Denali

Day 17 -- Hanging out with Elton


Visitors to Denali National Park, the largest National park in America, comprising six million acres or three times the size of Yellowstone, are allowed to drive their own vehicles into the park on a paved road free of charge, but only for sixteen miles and no further. With sharp eyes and some lucky timing, they may see a moose or a bear on that short drive. Those wanting to see more of the park's grandeur or wishing to boost their odds of seeing wildlife, will have to purchase a ticket costing anywhere from $35 to $120 and ride a school bus another sixty to eighty miles into the park on a gravel road. "Sign us up. We'll take the $35.00 bus to Eielson" The Eielson visitor center is located 67 miles into the park, an eight hour round trip. Our bus will leave in an hour at 9:30 in the morning and will return at 5:30 this afternoon. "Yes, we do understand that it is a school bus and that you provide no food or water. Go ahead. Sign us up."

The reason that the beige bus ride costs so much more than our green bus is that on the beige bus, you get a driver that will provide a narrative along the way. On green bus rides, such as ours, the driver is not required to say a word. But as luck would have it, our bus driver, Elton, was delightfully glib. He entertained and educated us for perhaps six of the eight hours we were in his care.

For example, as we wound around a hairpin turn, only twenty inches in from a certain-death drop off, he would say things like "Often, riders ask how far it is down these cliffs to the creek bed below. I tell then it's usually about fourteen bus rolls. Maybe a good driver could do it in twelve." We laughed, albeit nervously.

Between the beautiful scenery, the anticipation of spotting wildlife, and Elton's humorous and informative commentary, the hours flew. There weren't may rules for us to obey or procedures for us to follow. We were advised that it generally worked best for a person spotting an animal to yell "Stop" and then to reference a point on the clock, i.e. 3:00, to indicate where to look. About forty minutes into our bus ride we heard "Stop... 9:00". We looked out the left side of the bus and there he was.

Elton explained that it was fine for us to lower the windows and take pictures, but he advised us to keep at all times our arms and cameras inside the bus, and to only speak in whispers. "It's not a safety issue", he explained. "It has to do with animal psychology.  If animals see big green metal moving things in their environment day in and day out, they become used to them and pay no attention whatsoever to them. There is no need to fear them, or even acknowledge their presence. But if those same animals see red or blue sleeves or flailing arms protruding from the green metal things, or if they hear strange noises coming from them, their interest will be peeked, or worse yet, their fear may be aroused."  Made perfect sense. The bull moose was huge. Most of them in the park are. Elton informed us that moose are the world's fastest growing mammals. A baby moose, dining on perhaps the richest mother's milk in nature, will grow one pound a day for the first thirty days of its life. Then, for the next three months, as it learns to eat the leaves of willow trees, it will gain between three to four pounds of weight per day.  I thought those kind of results were only obtainable by humans on a cruise ship.

Thirty minutes later we spotted Dall sheep high on the side of a mountain. Even with binoculars it was difficult to see them.

Then, a short while later as we rounded a bend, we got very lucky.

"Stop... 2:00". "Cindy, where is it?" "Right there, to the left of the tree". "Oh, yes..."

Caribou are plentiful. There are about 2,000 of them in the park, as compared to 350 grizzly bears. Also called reindeer, caribou are social animals, usually traveling together in groups of ten to fifty. However, when we saw them today, they were either by themselves or with two or three others. When it is time for them to migrate in the spring, they group together in herds numbering in the thousands.

"Okay, we've seen three of the big four", Elton announced. "Here's hoping we can get the last one, a grizzly, checked off before we get to Eielson." Yesterday, we saw a mother and two cubs in the valley off to your left." It wasn't to be. In fact, it didn't look like we were going to get the job done, as the next two hours passed by with no bear sightings. A few more caribou. No bears. Then, just 15 minutes before we would reach the Eileson visitor center, where we would turn around and retrace the trip back to its point of origin, a pair of grizzlies were spotted.

It was a fantastic day. We saw a few more critters, including another pair of grizzlies on the return trip, and the scenery was incredible.  Although it was mostly sunny all day, the top of Mt. McKinley was obstructed by clouds.  Elton said he had only seen the top of the mountain six days this summer.  He also pointed out something interesting about Mt. McKinley.  As you may have guessed, the mountain was named after President McKinley.  However, he wasn't the President of the United States when the official naming occurred.  It took place just after McKinley was nominated to run for the presidency.  At that time there was a great debate about whether to back U.S. currency with gold or with silver.  William Jennings Bryant was championing the cause to pattern our system after the British, and back up dollars with sterling silver, while McKinley was an ardent supporter of gold.  The gold miners of Alaska naturally sided with McKinley and honored him by naming the tallest peak in America after him.

One thing that struck me as odd on today's bus ride was the fact that  we were only at 3,000 feet above sea level at the highest places on the route, yet that put us in the Tundra, well above the timberline. The base of Denali is only at 1,000 feet.  (Fairbanks is only at 500 feet). We learned that it is the temperature, rather than the elevation that plays the largest role in the growth of trees and vegetation. It's cold up here. Forty-one degrees when we woke up this morning. The winters are cold. Very cold. So, above 3,000 feet, the trees can't survive. This was one of those days you never forget.

At 6:00 pm we decided to head north to Fairbanks. After all, as the joke goes, "the forecast for today was mild and totally sunny. And the forecast for tonight is mild and totally sunny". Lots of daylight left. We got settled into a campsite in Fairbanks at 9:30 pm and headed to a restaurant that was still open. We sat outside and enjoyed the view overlooking a river. The icing on the cake would have been a nice sunset, but obviously, it was way too early for that.  Ha.

Day 18 -- Cruising Fairbanks by motorcycle

"Fantabulous", was the word Cindy kept using to describe the beautiful flowers we saw flourishing everywhere as we biked around Fairbanks. "It must be the cold weather that keeps them alive", she speculated.

 We had no agenda. We just thought we'd ride around and see what Fairbanks had to offer. Maybe we'll stumble onto something interesting.  Like that... those tents over there.

Turns out the sandhill cranes were returning to Creamer's Field in Fairbanks, Alaska to stage with other cranes and feed before migrating south to Texas, New Mexico and Louisiana. And today just happened to be the date of the annual festival to celebrate their return. We pulled into the Creamer's Field Migratory Wildlife Refuge and watched them glide gracefully over our heads. The trumpeting sounds they make is equally amazing. It's a deep bugle sound that emanates from their long tracheas, and it can be heard from over a mile away. What would a crane's favorite TV show be if they were inclined to watch TV? That's easy--So you think you can Dance. Cranes dance to find mates, relieve tension, thwart aggression and strengten their pair bond. Sorry, baptists.

Sandhill cranes form long-term pair bonds. They begin to reproduce when they are between 3 and 5 years old. The female lays only two eggs, and often only one colt will survive each season.

How this became a wildlife sanctuary is interesting. The Creamer family came to Alaska seeking fortune, just as so many others did in the Klondike gold rush of 1897. Charlie Creamer was just eight years old at the time. When he grew old enough to work, he was hired by the Hinkley family to milk and feed their cows. About that same time, Anna Carr came to Nome, Alaska, to join her sister's family and Charlie's employer, the Hinkleys. Charlie went off to serve as a soldier in World War I, and upon his return, he married Anna. They moved to Washington where he operated a chicken factory. In 1927, Charlie and Anna moved back to Fairbanks, borrowed $12,000 and purchased Mr. Hinkley's dairy operation. It consisted of 14 cows. What did Charlie Creamer name his new company? Creamer Dairy. Boy, was that a no-brainer, or just destiny. It became the largest producing and processing dairy Alaska has ever known. In the 1960's competition from the lower 48 and high property taxes in Fairbanks took its toll amd the dairy was closed in 1965. In 1967, with the help of state and federal funds, the community bought the 1800 acre farm and turned it into a wildlife sanctuary.

We mounted up and headed back toward the center of town. I had heard that the Museum of the North at the University of Alaska was considered a highlight by many visiting this city, so when we crossed University Ave, we decided to head to the college. The museum was indeed a highlight of our trip to Fairbanks.

Who's your money on in a wrestling match...

Okay, how about on a tag match with two tundra swans

Took about two hours for us to see the exhibits and artwork at the museum.   It was 5:30 pm.  "We'd better head back to the RV park.  You know how I don't like to ride the Harley when it's dark outside."  We coulduv and shouduv sayed in Fairbanks for at least another day.  It was a fun city.   Tommorrow, we're off to Valdez.  Watch out for that sand bar...