Catching up on yesterday and today...We got up early yesterday, to ease our minds about
getting down, off the Knob, Mark worried that it may be slick from yesterday, last night, and this
morning's ongoing storm and rain. Breakfast and shower waited until we were reassured. "M"
and Mark made it down smoothly and easily, with him gripping and then loosening on the
emergency brake. The ester hill we were on top of, consists of glacial run-off gravel, rocks and
sand, so the ground was still solid, gritty with secure grip.
"M" and the trailer were rejoined, we ate, and drove off for Denali Park. More boreal forests
lined our way, with noticeable terrain changes, but still dotted with the lakes, rivers and creeks
so appreciated. Getting to the park, we checked in for our camp reservation, road and shuttle
permits, went to the visitors center to ask about taking the trailer in, since the young university
woman staff checked with someone, who "thought" it'd be okay, at the reservation center. Mark,
however, wasn't sold, since four years ago, a ranger at Teklanika campground was adamant
that he could not have it there, and the on-line reservation literature clearly stated no
unnecessary pull-ins were permitted, unless camp survival was dependent on the extra tote.
At the visitors center, we spoke to an older, white-haired and bearded staff, who was very
lackadaisical, slow-movin' and talkin', and he thought, for sure (but did not really know the fact),
we'd be able to take the trailer (with our kayaks, bikes, extra gear). Eh,not sold, so Mark pulled
up his previous reservation confirmation, reviewed the no extra wheels part, and decided we
should not push it, in case we are sent back to the entrance, after the thirty mile drive to
Teklanika.
With that issue closed, we strolled the funky, charming boardwalk through the shops,
restaurants, cafes, ice cream palace (where we enjoyed moose tracks, and smiling mutually at
everyone coming out, and lunched on fish and chips and halibut tacos at another small
establishment). Mark got himself a t-shirt with "Alaska Fast-Food" printed, with a bear chasing a
wolfe, all chasing a guy. Funny. He and I share a quality and/or fault of a sweet tooth, and have
indulged in purchasing a total of two pounds of fudge in the last month on the road, with the
majority sinned yesterday of the 1.5 pounds. We marketed in one of the three tiny grocery
stores, at the end of the rustic strip mall, "Sled Dog," that was recommended by a couple store
staff, to stock up for the 10 day camp in Tek. One gal working in a super outdoor clothing shop,
had been an outfitter for ROW in Coeur d'Alene, several years ago, and has worked for another
in Denali. Another young guy in the market, was from Boise, and admitted north Idaho was
betta. Lots of German and East Indian accents and language along this entire trip, too.
Ready to settle, Mark found another boon-dock site, before our campsite reservation started
today, just outside of town, along the Nenana River and with a clear view of the mountains. The
storm had cleared the brown smoke haze, so it is such a gift to behold these stellar brown (and
some snowed) peaks with the most beautiful emerald green cascading down the slopes. We
sat outside, in the back of the trailer, out of the wind for a spell, before dining on clam chowder
and blueberry bagels, with almond butter and jam, which tasted so good.
Afterwards, we watched the first Harry Potter film, which Mark has had, but this was his
initiation. He has read the entire series, and has been very impressed with the actor reading the
books-on-tape. It was fun watching his delight, and sharing this level of fantasy. Afterwards, we
took our evening stroll in between the three other RVs along this river, and called it a night.
This morning, being Saturday, I wanted a real breakfast, which means eggs for me, after my
protein drink throughout the week-days; although I was willing to forego this, if we needed to get
going for our Teklanika reservation, in order to get a good site. Mark felt we could linger
somewhat, so we went to this fantastic, beautifully decorated and cuisined place "The Perch,"
which took us through cheerfully painted cabins, encouraging one to follow the multiple
groupings of wooden moose, up to the restaurant. It was well worth the hunt, and was a 20
year-old business of Leslie's, with her mother from Salem,OR, assisting her in the summers.
Leslie's seasonal job is working for some of the Alaskan based military "camps."
The interior was done so creatively, with a two-tiered type beam-work, table-tops perched upon
lacquered, graceful stumps, window alcoves with Leslie's friends' lent bronze sculptures of
wildlife (that were of gallery quality), and naturalist photos framed on walls. Great food. Mark
had creme brulee French toast, which he felt was great, but more like a dessert. He was
expecting French toast with a side pitcher of creme brulee sauce to ration and pour. I had a
yummy omelet with mushrooms, reindeer sausage and swiss cheese, with Srincha (?) sauce.
Leslie took pride in sharing a couple other recipes, in addition to the creme brulee French toast
(Karo syrup, brown sugar and butter on the bottom of a baking dish, wheat bread over this,
cover with mixture of eggs, cream, vanilla, with a heavy plate pushing all down overnight, bake
at 275 degrees, and serve upside down with berries). Her version of eggs benedict consists of
replacing English muffins, putting hash browns in muffin tins, and then sautés mushrooms,
spinach and onions, and tops off the potatoes with this. Then, the eggs and hollandaise sauce
are served on these. I just wanted to stay for more nurturance for da mout, and have lunch and
dinner with her, to-boot. Driving to the highway, Mark and I were in wonderment over just how
much work that must take for Leslie, with 26 cabins and a first-class restaurant on the steepest
hillside, and in the boonies of Denali.
I got to sing happy birthdays to Deb and Vicky, before no wifi nor cell reception for ten days, and
make sure Delia gets love flowers to honor her mama's passing. When we leave Denali on July
7th, we'll head to Lyra and Rob's in Anchorage (my god-daughter and her family), and caravan
on to Homer, to celebrate b'days with Vicky, Lael and his partner Marah, hopefully, whom I have
not met.
At the visitors center parking lot, in overnight camping, the trailer was left. Kayaks secured with
nifty locking, steele-cabled straps, and the transfer of items into "M" began, lasting about an
hour. A generator, two gasoline and water containers, propane tank with hose, outdoor
Kokopelli mat, camp chairs, solar panel and chords were dragged, bungy-chorded in "M." Mark
set-up rack in back of her for the mountain bikes. It was great teamwork, and I am consistently
impressed, in-awe of Mark's technical and organizational know-how, his thoroughness in
ensuring safety and survival in his traveling home.
Traveling past the 10K race runners, Mark recognized a woman he met two years ago in the
campground here, with her family. This park's unfolding drive takes one through and around
these marvelous, magical valleys of refreshing green tundra, contained by those brown and
green forested mountains, with glacier-glazed peaks in the background. Mark kids me when I
compare the views to paintings, since these are the real deals that artists emulate. The analogy
is to a kind of impressionist-like mistiness, softness of the lines of color that closer hills do not
possess with their sharp, defined lines. The former distanced mountains and valleys create
sensations of openness, peace in my chest and breath.
When we got to the ranger's entrance hut, we had to show him our camp and road permit.
Sitting inside, was that older guy ranger, who told us we could probably take the trailer in with no
problem. Funny. We fantasized how we could have blamed him, if we had followed his hunch,
and been turned away.
As usual, we eventually got Mark's special spot in Teklanika. For the first hour, we thought we
had rationalized scoring a spot next to the only one with a view of the Teklanika River, that was
occupied by a tent, and then a truck drove up (no vehicles can go out of camp, unless leaving,
and all take shuttles, except for professional photographers who have to prove they are well published)
with a "pro-pho". When we were visiting with the camp host, Beth, who Mark ran into
this last year in Borrego, CA, where she and husband Ron, snowbird, she shared the
photographers were busted today by one of the shuttle drivers. They went within 10 feet of a
grizzly, which is against the park rules. Beth said the drivers take this seriously, being protective
of their park's wildlife. Anyways, the photographers left soon after we got there, and we decided
to move everything over to their and Mark's campsite. It is much more open, airy, with that view
of the river. So, we teamworked again, lugging stuff into "M", or just walking things next door.
Nice afternoon walking to where the shuttle will pick us up tomorrow at 8:30 a.m., to Wonder
Lake, around the campground, and out to the river (which reminds me much of the Copper
River, minus the winds). Salmon burgers for dinner outside on the picnic table. At 7:30 nightly,
there are ranger presentations in the outdoor amphitheatre, and we attended one tonight on
birds and bears of the park. It was full, and the female ranger was great with the kids there, too,
getting them involved in raven smarts demonstrations, rewarding them with skittles. We both
want to hear the one on wolves later this week.
The sunny and warm evening was passed with sitting outside at our river view, reading, and
now, oh my gosh, it's 10:30, dusk-lit, and time for bed.
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