Birthdays in Homer

July 11th

I am jacked-up by chocolate cake, oatmeal squares, and homemade raspberry ice cream made
with coconut milk and maple syrup. Can't sleep, will take a planned melatonin soon, but am
enjoying writing by this lovely dusk lighting, at 11 p.m. There is a rose lower sky hovering above
the glaciers and higher peaks, with blue and darker hues creating a silence and loveliness that
only belongs to me and a few others who are luxuriating in this moment.

The day started out a glorious sunny, no clouds over the mountains kind of 64th birthday. So
fortunate was I. No rushing around morning, with the family sleeping in, Greta and Amelia
getting 12 hours of wondrous sleep, so appreciated by their parents, who also slept in, as did
Uncle Lael in the yurt. Mark and I got to laze, as well, in "M", and then had a date at Maura's for
b'day breakfast, in Homer, per Lyra's recommendation. Wonderful egg benedicts, ham for Mark,
veggie for me. We met the rest of the clan at farmers market, which was bustling, and Greta
grabbed us right away, and the stroll through the stalls was relaxing and fun.

I gifted myself with a fossil walnut ivory pendant, inspired by the artist's symbol of an abstract
kayak paddle, which called out to me. A sweet flower bouquet for Vicky was perfect, and kettle
corn for Mark. We visited with one of the grandmas of Lyra and Rob's friends from Anchorage,
another ultimate frisbee comrade, the grandparent being from Mountain Home, ID, and in a
wheelchair.

At Vicky's, Lael, Amelia and Vick were waiting for a hike on the cross-country ski trails, while
Lyra, Rob and Greta opted out, in order for Gret to bake Granny Vick an alternative b'day treat,
to the chocolate cake Mark bought. The four mile loop was welcomed, since there's been no
hiking nor biking since Denali. Got in a nap before the party with BBQ'd salmon, king crab and
oysters began. Vick's friend Carol also came, which was very nice. I hadn't seen her since we
three drummed together eons ago in Homer. She is a retired school teacher, still volunteering
with students, whose husband is retired Forest Service.

What a comfy afternoon and evening with beloveds and outrageous feasting. Vick and Carol
left about 8, and the rest of us sat outside, encouraging Greta and Amelia to run-off the
chocolate and sugar effects before bedtime, and chatted about politics, and other fun, silly
things.

Throughout the day, I was blessed with emails and facebook greetings, phone calls with Max,
Lucy and Doug, and feel full and loved. I try to inhale this positive regard in throughout my
whole body, instead of my past pattern of stopping it somewhere above my chest---not allowing
myself the truth and deserving of all this bounty.

I am 64, feeling old and youthful, simultaneously, both physically, intellectually, emotionally. My
spirituality is constant, and the joy of loving and being loved is more rounded, curved, softer,
than in my youth, with some worn, warm corners of my soul and psyche creating a mild
melancholy intermittently. The latter flees quickly, however, and I am left with a sense of
wholeness without expectations that can create tension, suffering, with the gift of being able to
embrace these moments now with joys and presence.

Beach Hiking in Homer

July 10

Today, we all rappelled down the steep cliff, via the thick rope Jane and Bill had secured there,
probably years ago, to access the miles of driftwooded and coaled beach, down from their
property. At the bottom, was a bog-full of high grasses and shrubs to make our way through to
the sand. It was a relaxing stroll, shorter than the younger adults had expected, and we
picnicked on the logs, feasted on smoked salmon, fruits, breads, crackers, nuts. Mark took
Amelia, who needed distraction, on an adventure shlogging to the "seal rock" when the tide
faded out, where, just a few minutes ago, there was a seal basking itself for quite awhile.

Francis, the Bochenek dog, a 6 y.o. big 'ol brown sweetie mix, loved us throwing nice, hefty
round sticks he so willingly returned. He is one of THE most kid-friendly canines yet, as
evidenced by how Amelia and Greta hug and kiss him to bits and pieces, with him just
embracing the love fully. Returning, we took another, easier rope trail back up, eating wild
strawberries along the cliff while pulling ourselves up.

Denali to Homer

July 9th

Sitting in Homer, Alaska, with my two god-kids and their families, sun is shining, clouds resting
on the peaks and glaciers on the Cook Inlet. This is our view from their friends' home, who are
commercial fisher-people and gone until Monday, so they have generously offered land for "M"
to rest on, and their house and yurt for everyone else. Mark and I arrived in Anchorage on the
7th, to Lyra and Rob's home, staying two nights and caravanning to Homer yesterday, with
Lyra's brother Lael, too, to spend birthdays with their mom, Vicky, who is a sister to me.

Some catching-up on previous days: Denali's 4th of July was spent relaxing, recuperating from
daily biking and hiking adventures. It was a social time, visiting with a gal from Homer, Gail, and
our other neighbors Dan and Garry, from Michigan (he's a part-time estate attorney and she a
retired special ed. teacher). Gail needed to leave camp early, and be by the water in Ketchikan
area, since she broke her wrist and was in a cast, feeling trapped here. Dan and Garry shared
this was the most relaxed five days they have ever had, with boon-docking for their first time, in
their newer version of Mark's View motorhome. Mark inspired them to stay longer than three
days, since Denali has to be savored for longer, if possible. He taught them how to use their
generator, solar panel, water and propane to lessen their dependency upon RV hook-ups. It
was empowering for them to be self-sufficient, walk the river-bed and ride their bikes from
"home."

On the 5th, we decided it was the clearest day for a shot of Denali, so we took the shuttle to
Eielson for the honor. We hiked the Alpine Trail, a thousand feet up to a wonderful ridge for our
lunch, and on our ascent, got to hook-up with our favorite ranger, Jakara, who led a hike and
talk. A slightly older male ranger came almost sprinting up the mountain, stayed at the edge of
the group, so Mark and I assumed he was her boss evaluating his underling. After greeting him,
we told him we happened upon our favorite ranger, and he said she was also HIS favorite
ranger. Again, I assumed he must say that about all his staff. Later, when meeting Jakara on
the eastbound shuttle, she said the guy is her boyfriend, who told her of our interaction. Her
mother and brother were also on the guided hike, from Baltimore; hence, the enthusiastic
boyfriend's visit.

Mark had never walked from the Stoney tour bus stop, to Eielson, so instead of riding up
Polychrome Pass for a killer last day, July 6, in Denali, we opted for what we expected to be a mellower hike. Off the shuttle, we lunched on the railroad ties at the stop, and were visited by an orange road maintenance dump truck, with a female driver, swooping in, who had a Santa-like face.
She gifted us with two popsicles, since she didn't think they'd make it with her in the heat. That
was such a fun surprise, being in the wilderness, with a Good Humor truck appearing out of
nowhere!

After a mile, we took a detour of over a mile walk through the tundra and a ravine, along a
shallow creek-bed, into higher willow shrubs. Walking back with his tripod and camera over his
shoulder, Mark's boot caught on a branch, and down he went on his tummy. Scared me, and I
held my breath, not knowing if he would have the air knocked out of him or what. Yay, he got up
fairly quickly and unhurt, so that makes two of us with falls during Denali outings. I hate falling
as an adult---so humiliating and unkind to these crotchety older bods.

 

We walked a total of just over 5 miles to the center, where we snacked, hydrated, and chatted
with the greatest father-daughter team from CA and Illinois. They were backpacking for 10 days,
and had just started a couple days, stopping to have their camp-stove corn chowder in their
aluminum camp dishes. The dad was a shoulder lengthed, blonde-grey haired slender hippie
dude, still livin' the dream and life-style, after retiring from being a lab tech several years ago.
He could have been a buddy from Humboldt days, and one whom you feel enamored with
immediately, like a golden retriever puppy-dog. After we told him of our Idaho home, he then
asked me where I was from before then. When I said Honolulu, he lit up, listing his University of
Hawaii stint, north shore abode and work, as a young guy. His young adult daughter was a
powerful, articulate, dark-haired woman, living in Davis, going for a MFA, a sculptress in ice and
oil, with a Ph.D. in plant biology. She's on a quest for her perfect iceberg, and will be going on
an Arctic expedition soon, with other scientists and artists. Her mother must be a pretty
grounded parent like her, and what a fun guy her papa is.

We were pooped that night, as well as all the other hiking and/or biking days, walking so slowly
into camp, that others noticed. Good-byes were shared with the neighbors and the camp hosts,
Beth and Dan, the latter giving us their email address to visit them in Borrego, CA, sometime
this winter.

Leaving Denali on the 7th, was a sad thing to do for me. The peace, beauties, wildlife, solitude
and expansive wilderness were imprinted, and I don't know if I will ever return. I am so grateful
to Mark for sharing this gift, and understand why he would want to do so, for the emotional/
spiritual solace and thrill, simultaneously embraced.

Before hitting the Parks Hwy. to Anchorage and the Bocheneks', we closed Denali with brunch
at The Perch, where we started out. Both of us had the special eggs benedict, that watered my
mout, the last visit. Yum...hash brown baskets topped with sautéed spinach, cheese and onion,
with poached egg and hollandaise sauce. Magnificent! We had fun laughing and talking
gibberish with the waiter/chef---a great way to hit the road.

In Wassila, we nurtured "M" with a wash, and she cleaned up real good. The only association I
have with this town is Sarah Palin, and I still don't understand why she said she could see
Russia from her home there. But then, who can grasp why she was placed in that vicepresidential
nomination race, in the first place, and thank God she didn't have to continue
making faux pas like the multitudes we were put in stitches about----thank you Tina Fey!

Two days in Anchorage with the adult and younger god-kids, Greta and Amelia, meeting Lael's
sweetie Marah, then chatting around his magnificent table-top he made for Rob and Lyra's
Axiom business, (I liken to a Davinci balancing act of outrageous and lyrical beauty) was all
quite fun. On the 8th, we ran errands, did laundry, marketed at Costco and Fred Meyers for restocking of "M." Dined in the city, and fell to sleep exhausted.

On the road for Homer on the 9th, with another delicioso stop at the Bocheneks' favorite ritual
cafe, in Girdwood, The Bakery Shop, for grilled cheese specialties, and they were! It was a
rainy day for car-rides, and dear Mark suggested taking each girl, Greta and Amelia, for a ride in
"M", which they loved, of course. He is a natural toy for them, and they each sang, marched in
their seats to John Phillips Sousa, and other silly songs in his repertoire. The last leg at Mark's
anticipated The Moose Is Loose donut shop, in Soldotna, was pretty cute, since Lyra was raised
with a very strict nutritional life-style, and donuts are not in HER repertoire. Her hubby Rob, a
mid-western boy raised on casseroles and donuts, got to savor his first glazed donut witnessed
by his mate, and took an apple fritter to go, to-boot.

Got to Homer, to Vicky's for dinner: to go pizza and beer, with Vick's home-grown salad fixings,
eaten in her dense and lovely backyard and gardens. We were all ready to bed down, left at a
good early evening hour, to our place at Jane and Bill's, where one leaves emotional loads
behind to gaze at this idyllic scape of a family park sloping down to the water and awesome
peaks.

Bicycling Denali

July 3rd

Happy birthday Dad. He would be 106 today; died in l985, of pneumonia, due to prior stroke.
Mom would be 101, and also died of pneumonia after a similar massive stroke, 12 years ago.
They were older parents when we were young; although Mom and I were 37 and pregnant with
me and Lucy. She was 40 with Tracy's pregnancy, which is not uncommon these days.

The 1st and 2nd were rainy all day, except for this glorious blue sky and sunshine last night
towards bedtime. It was difficult going inside, and I realized how the grey and wet created a
feeling of Christmas with the evening warmth and light. We really did make the best out of the
wet, hazy and smoke-odored spells (there are over 300 fires now in the park).

Starting with a leisurely, sweet morning of visiting, coffee in bed, breakfasting, reading and Mark
working on his photos, was wonderful, listening to the rain and being warm in "M." Later in the
afternoon, we walked to the Teklanika River bridge, through the braided river bed, over rocky
and sandy terrain, with need to go to shore paths intermittently, when we couldn't cross too wide
water. Again, walking sticks have become a blessing and a great balancing support, as well as
Goretex for the constant rain. Walking back on the road, we put in a three hour hike.

Tired but relaxed, I napped/meditated, Mark photo-hopped, we had din-din, and before our
evening stroll around the campground loops and bed, we had a great time singing along with
Mark playing guitar. At about 4 a.m., he got dressed and pulled down the flapping, wind-blasted
awning, so we were tired that next morn.

Rain, rain again, with a stronger whiff of smoke, surprisingly, because of all the rainfall, but
lightning strikes may have also caused new fires. There was a park flood warning, and we were
shocked by the overnight transformation in all the rivers and creeks that day. Instead of the
narrow braided stream effect in the rivers, there were roaring torrents of water making the rivers
filled, wide and furious! We caught the 11 a.m. shuttle to Sable Pass with our bikes, and rode
back home to Tek, over the bridges with more full-on waters from the rains, through the five mile
wildlife area, and other areas where grizzlies have been sighted from the shuttles. I sang loudly
through the latter, and past the bear-chewed signed areas. Nothing, nada was spotted. Chalk it
up to the animals finding shelter from all that wetness and cold. Smart. We must have looked
like a couple of crazy old farts, with water just dripping from our raincoats and pants, with my
hood up and helmet squeezed on top, and Mark with his rain hat with round brim, topped by his
helmet. He looked like Ponce De Leon from Spain, or a brunette with a long bob. After three
hours, we were cold, with a layer too little on our torsos, but feeling satisfied, and having
another great adventure.

Dinner was hot stir-fry, preceded by another scrumptious nap, and then that gift of sunshine and
skies for our walk. The East Indian families do seem to outnumber all other ethnic travelers
here, which is neat, since the ones we have spent time with on shuttles, hikes, around the
campground, are engaging, sweet, enthusiastic about being in this wild paradise, too, and seem
to live in Seattle, Anchorage, Florida, Texas...all, so far, born in India. Anyways, last night on our
evening river walk, we chatted with a lovely young couple and their two adorable pre-school
sons, as we all threw stones to make a bridge to cross the fingers of river. They have lived in
Anchorage, from Richmond, VA, for the last year, for his job in development of the pipe-line, and
they all love being here, the snow, wilderness. Sat in our camp chairs for awhile, so hard to say
good-night to this light and blue, after almost two days of going without.

Today, the 3rd, we slept in til 8 a.m., due to Mark's wakefulness during the night and early morn
and my weird dreams, the worse being me losing a friend's cute, blonde and blue-eyed toddler
girl in Walmart. I looked at the cart after perusing the aisle for kids' b'day presents, and no girl in
it. She looked like several other little gals I saw, and when I woke, I so badly wanted to return to
the dream so I could find her. I woke feeling so incomplete, helpless. Haven't looked too
deeply at the symbols, however, since we got on with excitement over the gorgeous sunny day.

Between hiking or biking, we chose taking the shuttle to Eielson Center and riding to Toklat rest
stop on the river there. Before catching one of the green buses, I was engaged with a couple
from Holland, and Mark was talking to a gal on the bench who turned out to be the woman Vicky
had told me would be at Teklanika, from Homer, Gail. She hugged me when I told her Vicky is
my best friend, and gushed over how great a person she is. We touched in with her later
tonight, gave her some of our just eaten pasta, and sat with her at the evening ranger talk. She
seems to be on a form of life journey, via travel to Europe, parts of Alaska to explore. Nice
woman.

Our bicycle ride was another three hour up and downhill work-out, and with gorgeous weather
that brought out animals today. Mark got terrific photos of two caribou, very close to us, grazing
in the brush, and the other on the river bed. Beautiful racks and dark, almost black molting fur
mixed with a lighter brown. I had a certain distance of security and mutual respect calculated,
and asked Mark to honor it, which he did, willingly. A passing park employee in his truck,
stopped and pointed out a grizzly a good safe distance away, across the pass from us, which
was nice of him to do.

We trucked up some long hills in the road, and then were gifted with a freeing long ride down to
the Toklat rest stop. It felt wonderful speeding and slowing down, to make this ride longer
before ending it and shuttling back to camp. Right away, the first shuttle was able to take us
and our bikes. The buses have a well-designed and simple bike rack for two, in the front, with a
pulled out anchor for the tires and frame. I was just thinking that we hadn't had a young woman
driver yet, and voila, Anna shows up, perky, fun, and who Mark remembered because of her
dynamite personality, from two years ago. She's been driving shuttle for 10 years, starting as a
barrista in Denali before then. The gal is from northern CA, but makes Palmer area her home,
when not here.

Anna was the perfect host to end our exhausting and exhilarating biking with, and she
accommodated and assisted we passengers in spotting wildlife, i.e. the closest huge grizzly
grazing sighting, and drove slowly and cautiously, much like Keith our first driver. We visited
with her at the last rest stop, deciding to ride to Tek, and exchanged names with her.
We are sooo tired right now, after heavenly showers after the wildlife presentation, and delicious
chicken, mushroom pasta with marinara sauce. Probably an evening slow walk around the
campground and to bed. Another gratifying day.

Denali NP - Polychrome Ridge Hike

June 30th

Wow, it's been four days now in Denali, with six more to go. Polychrome Ridge was our goal
today, so we, more leisurely without running for the bus, got to a shuttle at 8:55, with our most
informative driver yet, Tim. He educated us about the wildlife area that is closed to hikers, due
to previous grizzly habitat needs; pointed out the chewed wooden signs the bears and cubs are
attracted to, possibly because of the kind of paint or varnish used. The next designed sign was
framed with nails, and these intelligent mammals developed these into back scratchers for
themselves. The cabin where wildlife biologist Adolph Murie lived on the East Fork of the Toklat
River, from 1939-1941, was pointed out to us. During those two years, he studied the wolves to
assess if they were destroying the Dall sheep and caribou populations in the park, as most
believed. His theory was that wolves were keen predators that help to maintain healthy
populations of the prey species, by taking out the old, sick and injured, making everything
around them stronger, healthier, more agile and alert. Part of us wanted to stay on Tim's ride to
Kantishna, the last stop in the park, where there are several private lodges, cause he is so
good, but hiking called. Mark said the ride is way too long, and not as stunning as our first
shuttle to Wonder Lake, anyways.

Polychrome Ridge 

At the stop at Polychrome, we let Tim know we were off, so he knew how many empty seats
were available for others like us later, who picked-up the shuttles along the way, post-hikes,
walks, backpacking. This was Mark's fourth or fifth Polychrome hike, doing it two and four years
ago with folks like Christine, his daughter, and other families, couples he met in camp or on the
shuttles. We started up the steep narrow, mostly rocked trail, so one has to focus on each step,
and lean forward, not looking at your surroundings or view, until stopping; otherwise, this part
could see tumbling down with great injury. It took us about forty minutes to scale to the
outrageous ridge and out to the point that overlooks the symbols of the "Polychrome" dubbing:
the Alaska Range of multi-colors and varied heights, glaciered or not, with those sloping green,
green valleys of red, copper, golden mountains. The Toklat River, another of the myriad of
"braided rivers" throughout the park, streams flowing down the mountain valleys, and that great
winding park road with the forest green shuttles, tan touring and multi-colored lodge buses
provided the ground floor. I found a stone the shape of Idaho, and topped one of the four cairns
signifying the joy of accomplishment experienced by former and we current trekkers of the ridge
and point.

The wind fluctuated between whipping our hats all over the place, to milder, warm pockets of
stillness, as we walked over rocks and tundra on ridges heading east. For me, this was my first
ridge hike that I can recall, and the awe-inspiring Denali scape embraces, floods over and within
my senses. We really felt we were on top of the world, with each ridge presence. PBJs, sitting
on the soft, dense and colorful tundra, tasted so good, preparing us for the steep, long return on
the other ridge side.

Mark cautioned me about stepping consciously and slowing over the tundra on the descent, due
to uneven depths. The zig-zagging with our poles, helped to save my knees, and was a very
pleasant, buoyant way of hiking downhill. There were high shrubs further down, and I felt more
reassured with intentional talking, you-whooing, with our bells on walking sticks, since this
terrain was potential bear habitat. Higher on the ridges, we'd see occasional Dall sheep and
ground squirrel, and rare caribou scat. One of our ranger lectures focused upon the hunting
strategy of wolves and Dall sheep. Because the latter scurry up to the peaks, where grizzlies
are not fast enough to follow, evidently, the wolves, however, are fast and wily, and meet the
sheep from the other side of the mountain. No wolf scat today, and no sheep sitings either.
It was fun following the game trails, with only a very short bush-whacking through the tall
shrubs close to the road. We hiked for about four hours, and it felt a victory hitting the road,
waiting for the next shuttle to cart us home to Teklanika, after a 15 minute wait. With all the rain
we could see on other mountains, we felt fortunate to encounter only a few minutes of drizzle on
the ridge, and were so warm on the descent, that stripping off rain-gear was a relief.

Showers in "M" were heaven, our fourth day without (which has been fine, with sponge-baths
daily for me), in order to conserve for our ten days here. Luckily, there is potable water in the
campground, so we are not desperate. We do have to watch the grey tank limit, and will deposit
some clothes washing water down the toilet or the designated dish water drain the camp
provides behind the outhouses. For a campground, this is very conscientious, with recycling
bins, food storage and flammable goods closets, as well.

It felt wonderful laying down, listening to the afternoon rain for an hour, while Mark washed
some of his and my clothes outside, under the canopy. Stir-fry shrimp dinner, and listening to
Abba and Peter, Paul and Mary, warm and drizzling outside.

Denali NP - Eilson

June 29th

Pulling the shades up, to assess whether this may be a Denali siting day, we concurred "yes,"
let's go for it! Blue skies with horizontal light wisps of clouds. We rushed through breakfast,
getting our packs ready, lunch done by Mark today (so glad he made turkey sandwiches and
took along our daily fudge ration with trail mix with peanuts, M&Ms and yogurt chips, since
yesterday's PBJs and trail bars just didn't sustain me throughout our shuttle ride), a sink full of
dishes, and scurried to catch the 8:40 shuttle to Eielson. Cut through an empty campsite and
had to jog the last bit, hearing and seeing the green bus pulling in.

The first bus was crowded, so that Mark sat and shared the seat in front of me. At the first pitstop,
he suggested we ask Keith, yesterday's driver, if there was more room for us, which
worked, so we got to sit next to eachother. I liken this shuttle to ferrying, with down-time to just
be, really. When I considered taking my book, Tisha, (Mark's recommendation about a young
teacher, during the gold-rush days here in Alaska, whose first job was in Chicken), but knew I
wouldn't be able to take my eyes away from scanning for wildlife, and awing over this
magnificent land again. Lots of caribou today, and outstanding shots of Denali, with only light
clouds below her peak, so Keith stopped for us to photograph around Sable Pass. Everyone
felt so lucky to see her glory, since yesterday she was camouflaged. There was a cheerful
camaraderie between people near us, sharing open windows for more photo ops, and loving the
grandeur and fortune.

Keith picked up about 5 young adult backpackers, who were on their way to Wonder Lake,
where they live while volunteering to work on the few trails in the park. Denali's philosophy and
protocol is to encourage visitors to create their own adventure in hiking through the tundra,
which is actually more protective of the eco-system, than creating defined trails, which are more
invasive. It is difficult not to ease-drop on the shuttle, with those next to you, and we had an
interesting group behind and across: an attorney for the farmworkers in CA, a knowledgable
male trail crew member, and several ladies from Madrid, who sounded intelligent and fun, with
their Espanol banter and laughter, and pulled-together European look.

The young trail worker was being grilled by the lawyer about the park. The former shared there
is current dialogue about whether more trails should be created, to draw more people, but it
sounded as though many more are opposed to this, and prefer how the self-forged hiking
experiences maintain the integrity of Denali. Tomorrow, Mark and I will do the latter, at
Polychrome, where he and Christine improvised two years ago. He pointed out their "trail" while
on the shuttle yesterday and today, and I am fascinated and a bit apprehensive with this new
physical concept, but game. May there be similar weather as this super one.

When we arrived at Eielson, more photos were taken, and then lunch tasted so good with our
view of Denali and the incredible variety of mountain panorama blessing us. The young woman
ranger, Jakara, from Baltimore, who Mark engaged yesterday on the shuttle from Toklat (where
there is a bunkhouse for some staff), came out for her break and to see who was out here, she
could chat with. What a treat that she found us! She is a haole girl, with pony-tailed blondebrown
hair, whose parents were hippies; therefore, her name she said. Mark likes to tell people
I was, too, which I qualify as being a wanna-be one, as many of us middle class kiddos were,
back then in the early 70s. This gal has it made from April through September, as an
interpretive ranger here (she has had other non-park jobs, and scored this one five years ago),
and loves living here. I do envy her cool ranger hat she dons when outside, with the official dark
brown leather NPS band around it. She backpacks, hikes on days off with her friends who also
work for the park. The rest of the year, she travels and then works in Maui, for a whale touring
business, as a naturalist guide! I just roared. Good for her, I say. We shared about Hawaii,
places we all have been. Yesterday on the shuttle, she gave Mark a hike suggestion, up to a
waterfall, where we'd have to get off shuttle at Sable Pass, which we'll probably investigate one
of the days left.

After visiting with Jakara, we followed one of the established trails by the center, down towards
the McKinley River, saving our hutzpah and bodies for tomorrow's Polychrome hike. One can
get lost in time sitting and focusing upon each mountain, which we did for awhile, and then
trudged uphill slowly to the trailhead and buses. Along the way, Mark photographed a chipper
looking ground squirrel, busily chewing some tasty morsel ferociously.

We caught a 2:30 bus with Marilyn, whom Mark later asked at rest stop Toklat, if she was the
one who suggested passengers just close their eyes when rounding sharp curves on the
narrow, ultra-steep gravel road, since that's what she does. He had told me earlier about this
gal from years past, so it was fun meeting and chatting with her. She and her husband, Tony,
also a park driver, do this seasonally, and then live in northern CA, the remaining months.
Before semi-retirement, she had driven school bus. Marilyn was a down-home, chatty,
informative shuttler, with interesting facts about Denali and our route, moreso than our first
driver Keith. This woman did speed around corners by narrow spaces, by a caribou we could
almost have touched on the bank, and did she squeak to stops and/or slowing down by other
buses. Keith was the opposite: cautious, slower, appealed to our wildlife spottings and
searching.

At home, we dined on a motley assortment of family of origin foods for fun: Chef Boyardee
spaghetti not ingested since childhood (earlier on the road, we wondered if they even still made
this, and I found it in a convenience store), combined with left-over Prego and pasta, and
canned green beans that I adore, since my mom never served them. We smiled, and thought
"not bad," but also not great, and kinda in awe that our moms fed us on Spaghetti-Os, Chef
Boyardee ravioli, as well.

The second Harry Potter was watched, via my request. Mark, again, enthralled, and with goose
bumps at scary parts with spiders, serpent, eerie music and scenes, and fearing bad dreams
afterwards; although he really prefers to watch other things than movies, e.g. The Lone Ranger
series, documentaries, or read, computer. I had to gently persuade him to do the film tonight,
which was easily accessed and enjoyed by all.

Denali NP - Shuttle to Wonder Lake

June 28th

Rise and shine to a blue skied day, cool this morn at 4 a.m. We caught the Wonder Lake shuttle
at 8:30, which Mark recommended this first park day, to get a sense of the entire bus coverage.
Denali was covered by a blanket of white and dark grey clouds, but on the late afternoon return
trip, there was partial lift, and less than half of her snowfield and the tip of the peak were visible.
Of course we are anticipating a clear full view of this highest mountain in North America, at
20,360 feet. My friend Vicky, in Homer, informed me that most Alaskans only refer to her
majesty as Denali, never McKinley, since that president had nothing to do with it. Denali was
the original Athabascan name, for "The High One."

The shuttle ride went from 8:30 a.m., and back to Teklanika at 5:30 p.m. Mark and I chose to
walk to the campground, the last mile, from the restroom stop. Several caribou were spotted
today, with a couple taking their time in the middle of the road, and others grazing on the tundra.
On the return eastward, Keith the driver, said we may see bear at that later time, and sure
enough, a light golden grizzly was grazing on the hillside next to the right side of the road,
walked across in front of us, and then onto the left bank. Keith was worried this might be the
first day of the season one would not be viewed.

After a PBJ sandwich at 11:30, eaten at Eielson Visitors Center, and then two trail bars along
the after drive, I fantasized about spaghetti for dinner, so we feasted on hot plates of pasta, with
chicken apple sausage and mushrooms, with tapioca pudding for dessert. It is important for me
to document food intake, since it is always such an enjoyable part of our daily rhythm.
Tonight's amphitheatre presentation was on wolves, which was finely done by a humorous,
clever and informative male ranger, Jake. His plea was for us to show objectivity in assessing
our perspective of the wolves, including the larger, eco-system they effect, e.g. providing food
sources through their larger kills (caribou, moose) for others, such as grizzlies and ravens.
Bears will follow wolf howls, and ravens will also pursue the canines' location, knowing a feast
will be had. Jake reiterated the young, old or diseased game are hunted, which are more
accessible to the wolf, and he does not believe that by decreasing latter's numbers, will
generate more caribou for hunters.

Later, we walked to the river again, taking photos of what we've dubbed Pyramid Mountain, the
silted river fingers and the sweet lovely fuchia flowers, I think are dwarf fireweed. This late
daylight gives one more energy, until the bio-clock starts wearing down suddenly, catching-up to
the full day's activities. Again, after 10:30, and I am ready for the closure of another spectacular
Alaskan sojourn.