Denali National Park

Before I write anything more, let me get this out of the way: Denali National Park is overrated. There, I've said it. It may sound like sacrilege to some, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, it's not that it is not beautiful, breathtaking, humbling, and all of that, but you don't have to go into the National Park (click on the map to the left for a full-size version) to experience all these things. Instead, you could just go back down to Cantwell and take Highway 8, the "Denali Highway" and be just as in the middle of nature as you are in the park. If Mount Denali is what you are after, chances are you will not see it anyway because it makes its own, bad weather. And the only way you can get into the park is inside a very uncomfortable bus, but more on that later.

Sunrise over Denali

We awoke to a most beautiful sunrise early in the morning. Rarely have I seen such a striking sunrise with deep reds across the entire eastern sky. The above picture is quite blurred, but the best I could do with my little digital camera.

We headed out towards the Denali Wilderness Access Center at the entrance to Denali National Park, from where we were scheduled to take the 7:30 a.m. shuttle bus into the park, all the way out to Fish Creek. These shuttle buses sell out quickly and should be reserved well in advance, as they are the only transportation into the park. They are converted school buses, painted green, that are not only very uncomfortable, but also offer only obstructed views&the window dividers are all helpfully at eye level. And then there are the fellow passengers, of course. Shy at first, everyone quickly gets used to each other and becomes friendly, which leads to endless joking that is not funny. "Look! Rock sheep!" You see, these sheep are not really sheep, they are merely rocks that look like sheep. Hence, rock sheep. Get it? Precious, even after 8 hours of repetition.

Colors in Denali

In the end, though, Denali is still Denali, and minor quibbles aside, it is a place of stunning grandeur. There was a mix of rain and sunshine, which led to rich contrasts and gave the place at least a semblance of scale. Spotting animals in the wilderness was everyone's first objective, and we saw some, though not many. In order of increasing ferocity: rock sheep (haha!), squirrels, goats, caribou (one), and grizzlies. I only managed to photograph grizzlies, and here are some pictures:

Grizzlies in Denali

A walk in the park with the cubs

Out for a tasty berry snack

Grizzlies in Denali

People don't bother you when you are at top of the food chain

Even Grizzlies appear small here

It was a long ride into the park in the back of an uncomfortable, hot and dusty bus, so after our turnaround, we decided to get off and hike around on our own for a while. This turned out to be an excellent choice, for once the bus had left us, we were all alone, it was quiet, and nobody was pointing out rock sheep anymore.

Ericca in Denali

We went off the gravel road and into a glacial riverbed, a sidearm of the Toklat River, along which we hiked back towards the Toklat River ranger station, which we new to be only a few miles down the same river.

Spring and glacial waters mix

The sidearm of the main river clearly had a different source, as you can see in the above picture. Glacial rivers always carry lots of silt, whereas spring-fed rivers are clear. The majority of rivers in Alaska is gray, as on the right, flowing from the large glaciers in the Alaska range.

Walking down the riverbed

We made out way back down the river, with an incredibly strong wind at our backs. At the ranger station, we waited for a little while and caught the next shuttle bus back. Different people, same jokes. There is something universal about the human experience, isn't there?

A stormy day in Denali

We returned to the Wilderness Access Center around 4:30 p.m. and had dinner at a pizza place in the town that surrounds the park's entrance. I'm not aware of any name for the place, but it could rightly be called Princess Town because every business appears to be owned by Princess Cruises.

Colorful Alaska

Finally, we drove the few miles back to our motel and turned in for the night, tired from a long day. The night was again fully overcast, and we could not see any northern lights.

Anchorage to Healy

We had an appointment with Talkeetna Air Taxi at 9:30 in the morning, so we had to get up early in Anchorage to make the two hour drive to Talkeetna. The drive itself was not too spectacular because it went through mostly flat terrain and the small Parks Highway was thickly lined with trees on both sides. At milepost 99, hang a right, and you will be in Talkeetna before you know it. Talkeetna is a beautiful little town of about 700 year-round residents, located at the confluence of three glacial rivers: the Susitna, Chulitna, and Talkeetna. It lies in the flat, glacier-ground plains that lead to the mighty Alaska range, which can be seen in the distance.

Denali beyond the Susitna River

Mount Denali, or Mount McKinley, as it is known outside of Alaska, is seen in the picture above, and he is the reason we came to Talkeetna in the first place. The naming of said mountain is rather interesting. Denali, which in the Athabascan language means "the great one" or "the high one," makes perfect sense. You could imagine some Athabascan's looking at the mountain and thinking to themselves: "That sure it the biggest mountain I've ever seen, let's call it Denali." McKinley is a less obvious choice, but that only makes it more interesting.

William Dickey, who was prospecting in the area in the very late 19th century, loved nothing more than to argue with his travel companions about one of the hottest political issues at the time: whether the monetary standard of the United States should be based on gold, as the Republicans wanted, or silver, which was supported by the Democrats. Dickey was a Republican, his companions Democrats. So when he got back home, he reported his "discovery" of the large mountain and named it "Mount McKinley," in honor of William McKinley, a Republican leader and then president, who led the United States through the Spanish-American War and was assassinated in 1901, half a year into his second term. But mostly Dickey did it to spite his travel companions.

Now, that seems like a goofy reason for a mountain to have a name that nobody in Alaska likes, so why is it still called McKinley? Well, a mountain's name can only be changed by the U.S. Geographic Names Board IF it is not being considered by Congress. And since 1975, when a name change was first officially requested by the residents of Alaska, Ohio Congressman Ralph Regula, who occupies the same seat that William McKinley held (who later also became governor of Ohio), has prevented the Names Board to enact any changes by including a single sentence as a budget amendment stating that McKinley is the permanent name of the mountain. Hence it is Congress's business, and the Names Board cannot touch it. Sound strange? Sure does, but it's true. Call Ralph, if you don't believe me.

Approaching Denali between the Tokositna (left) and Ruth Glaciers

But in keeping with the wishes of the Alaskans, I will henceforth refer to the mountain as Mount Denali. And Mount Denali, we were told, is best seen from the air because there is now other way to comprehend its scale. This is probably true, although to really understand how big the mountain is, one would have to climb it, which thousands of people attempt every year. To do this, they fly from Talkeetna to Base Camp, which is nestled between the two peaks of Denali, still a several days' hike from the top. Mount Denali's north face is about 15,000 feet tall. This makes it the largest mountain wall in the world. Indeed, Denali stands higher from its surroundings than Mount Everest because the Himalayas are so tall to begin with. The Alaska Range, by contrast, rises from only a few thousand feet elevation, which makes the peaks all the more impressive.

Denali's twin peaks: North (left, 19,470 ft) and South (20,320 ft)

What we were told is true, a flight around Mount Denali is expensive, but worth every penny. This is one of the few truly magnificent experiences in life, and if you are ever in Alaska, do not miss it. Having said that, I am not sure that I can tell you much more about our flight than to show you a few pictures. Keep in mind that these were taken with my little point-and-click digital camera, but even with a big, fancy camera, I could have never done the scenery justice. This experience is exactly that: an experience. To really understand, you just had to be there. And even having been there, I still feel like it was all on a scale that was simply too large to grasp.

Turning into the 747 gorge - literally big enough for a Boeing 747

Following the Ruth Glacier back South

Terminal moraines insulate the ice below

Back to Talkeetna airport

Our ride: a DeHavilland Beaver

After this almost two hour-long flight, we strolled around Talkeetna for a while, which had by now filled up with cruise ship passengers who were on an inland expedition organized by one of the two (really one) cruise ship companies that own Alaska. But more on that later.

Talkeetna Central Station

We really liked Talkeetna, and it was to remain one of our favorite towns among all those we would see in Alaska. A train follows the tracks north into the lakes, and it is one of the last trains in the world that you can actually flag down to get a ride. I suppose there are not too many passengers, and it is not exactly a bullet train.

From Talkeetna, we went back to the Park Highway and continued on our trip towards Denali, which we actually passed to get to Healy and our very nice Motel Nord Haven for the night. Healy has about 1,000 residents, and it serves mainly as a starting point for trips into Denali National Park, our destination for tomorrow. We had Spaghetti and Meatballs at Rose's Diner, a converted trailer, right next door, along with all the locals, who discussed things like what to do with the moose they had just killed with their car when their freezers were already full with two bears. You know, the kind of stuff that occupies the mind in Alaska. Waste not, want not.

Minneapolis to Anchorage

Alaska. Or Alaxsxaq, the Great Land, as it was known to the first inhabitants of the Aleutian Islands. And they would know, for their ancestors had traveled far: from the eastern steppes of Siberia farther and farther East, until they finally crossed the Bering Straight and made their way down the coast of their new continent and eventually followed the Aleutian Islands back westwards until they could go no farther. It was they who greeted the first European explorers and told them the name of this great new frontier, which is now the last, according to the license plates of its present residents.

Whether or not the Aleutians were actually aware of the true vastness of this peninsula, which is large enough to be called a sub-continent by some, the name is certainly appropriate. Descriptions of Alaska invariably end in superlatives. Alaska is, for example, the largest of the United States. If it were split in half, Texas would still only be the third largest state. Alaska is the westernmost, easternmost, and northernmost state. 10,000 lakes? How does three million sound? And yet, for all its size, only North Dakota, Vermont, and Wyoming have fewer human residents than Alaska's 670,000. This, then, is Alaska: a juxtaposition of extremes, in which nature with its crass geology, large animals, and sheer size dwarfs the tiny human development that has taken hold here over the millenia.

But I get ahead of myself. We left Minneapolis on the very last Sun Country flight of the brief 2007 season. Sun Country usually means a relatively relaxing Humphrey Terminal at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, direct flights, snacks on board, and friendly staff. And so it was today, the check-in line was non-existent, and neither was the security line. The Monday after Labor Day must not be the most popular travel day of the year, fancy that. The airplane was half empty, and the almost six hour long flight turned out to be quite enjoyable.

Leaving Minneapolis

Not only was the flight enjoyable because it was not very crowded, but it was a beautiful day across North America, and we were treated to some beautiful views of, at first, our friendly neighbors to the North, and then what we had come to see: Alaska.

Oh, Canada

Into the Great Wide Open

Little Italy?

The Harding Icefield

The weather was so good that we could even see Mount Denali on the horizon as we descended into Anchorage. Anchorage itself is not much to write home about, in my opinion. To me, it mostly stands out as the great FedEx transportation hub through which all the tasty Apple products pass on their way from China to Minneapolis when ordered online.

Millions and millions of iPods served daily

At the airport, we quickly picked up our rental car for the week, a Dodge Caliber. If you ever wonder what is wrong with the American car industry, go ahead and rent a 2007 Dodge Caliber, and all your questions will be answered. It is a true lesson in complacency. Remember when we used to laugh at the Japanese cars? Nobody is laughing anymore. Except the Japanese, of course. The Koreans are next, and then the Chinese. How you can seriously expect to stay in business if you make cars like the Dodge Caliber is beyond my comprehension. That's really all I have to say about that anymore.

We checked into the Voyager Hotel, which I cannot quite recommend because the non-smoking rooms smelled pretty smokey, but it was okay. A stroll through Anchorage's downtown mostly revealed how small the town is and how insignificant its history, in the grand scheme of things. Alaska, it seems, is all about the outdoors, nature. People are an afterthought at best, unless they carry and spill over a million barrels of oil, as did the Exxon Valdez on that fateful spring day in 1989.

Well, we are here. Tomorrow we head North, towards Talkeetna, and ultimately Healy, outside Denali National Park. Then we will see the Alaska for which we came here, the one that was promised us by the views from the airplane.