Due Up

My master plan of becoming one with the animals is almost complete.  I landed in this field 10 minutes outside of Anchorage and the sun was too inviting.  Forecasters had all of us expecting rain and 40's, but it turned out sunny and warm.  Hey, 60's is warm around here.  It always amazes me the temperature swings this environment can handle.  Take Fairbanks for example-- in 1961, a record low of minus 66 degrees F (put the shirt back on).  The year 1991 brought a record high of 94 degrees F (off with shirt and pants).  (Hey buddy, this is a family joint).  If one does the math-- remembering to carry the "1"... that's an extreme of 160 degrees!!   Hmmm...  what's colder,  minus 60 degrees fahrenheit or minus 60 celsius?  The scales cross at minus 40.  So minus 60 celsius is colder.  Not that it really matters since the nose hairs have frozen so much earlier anyway.  What else freezes?  Fairbankians... Fairbankanese... Fairbanksssiissnns... and their tires.  Rubber tires will freeze and roll like a block of cement.

Eklutna Lake in the Chugach Forest.  The Chugach borders and melts into Anchorage proper.  This paradise is only minutes outside of a street light, and offers year-round recreation.  I'm headed to the far end, where "Bold" airstrip lies.

The mix of greens in the trees are all over Alaska.  Alaska Birch and Black Spruce.

It's been a relaxing afternoon close to home base.  Tomorrow, if mother nature's weather smiles on us, it will be time to head out for some more exploring, likely for the rest of the week.  I'm hoping to make it up to the Brooks Range, towards the North Slope of Alaska.  The Brooks Range has been called the Serengeti of Alaska.  Tons of wildlife.  It's a little early in the year, and it's still winter up there, so we'll see how things go.  How cold and wet could it be?! Quoting one of the most famous travelers of all time, Marco Polo: "An Adventure is misery and discomfort, relived in the safety of reminiscence."

Denali

Another gorgeous day and I made my way north from Anchorage to Talkeetna.  This is the airstrip famed bush pilot Don Sheldon used for many years.  Known for exceptional piloting and daring rescues of distressed and lost people, Sheldon has received the highest civilian honors ever presented by the military.  His book, "Wager with the Wind" is a fascinating read.  A museum in Talkeetna features much of his life.  The federal government approved naming an "amphitheater" after him on Denali years ago.  He died of cancer in the 70's, and his daughter still flies and keeps his plane in Talkeetna.  So is it "McKinley" or "Denali?"  Same thing, but McKinley was the name of a politician, and Denali means "the high one" in native tongue.  Easy choice for me...

Main street in Talkeetna.  I'd been here once a couple years ago, but fell in love with it all over again.  Very small, but is the jumping off point for all the alpine excursions to Denali.  It's a little drinking town with a climbing problem.  So the town, which is relatively "young" by old town standards, continues its calling as a goods and services center.  Originally for mining gold and trapping, and now as a sleeping/eating/pub spot for adventurous climbers.  Supper was a nice treat, and I enjoyed chatting with a group who was leaving the next day for 3 weeks on Denali.  It's a fun town to walk around-- everyone is full of positive energy and hope for their big climb.  Statistically, 50% will summit.  Guided groups average slightly higher than solo groups.  At 20,320 feet, temperatures can reach minus 40, even in the popular climbing months of April-June.

Leaving Talkeetna and flying towwards the Alaska Range.  Denali is obscured in the clouds.  I'm flying at around 500 feet off the ground, which is close to sea level.  That puts the top of Denali almost 4 miles above me in a short distance.  Not surprisingly, it takes a pretty clear day to see the top.

Flying up the Ruth Glacier towards the Ruth Amphitheater.  Winding through the moutains is surreal.  Even the "foothills" are big.  There are 7 "little" mountains around Denali that are taller than 12,000 feet.  Denali is the tallest peak in North America.  While there are other peaks that are taller, none of them have the height from floor to top that Denali has.  The atmosphere is also irregular on the planet, with more atmosphere "stacked" at the equator, so the poles have less height to the valuable insulated and oxygenated air so vital under strenuous climbing.

Poing and shoot and the colors are wild.

Building in Denali park is off limits.  Don Sheldon built this in the 1940's and it has been grandfathered in.  "Mountain House" is situated in Ruth Amphitheater and has windows on all sides, while reportedly sitting on ball bearings that allow it to rotate.  Want to spend a night there?  It can be arranged.

Landed on a gravel bar to refuel from my 5 gallon can.  Alaska range in the background.  Somebody pinch me.

Kodiak Kenai Valdez

Saturday morning was gorgeous, and good weather was promised for the weekend, so I headed south from Anchorage.  Here, the Homer spit on the south end of the Kenai peninsula, is a popular camping/RV spot for tourists.

Looking back on the Kenai peninsula and the Kenai Fjords.  I'm climbing high for the miles of open water I need to cross to Kodiak island.  That way I'll have more time to reflect on how cold the water will be when my engine quits over the ocean.

Kodiak Island airport.  All fueled up, heading south on the Island.

These eagles were the overseers of Seven Mile Beach, Kodiak.

Heading back north after a day of exploring Kodiak.  The sun was getting lower, and cloud decks and reflections made it interesting.  The land in the background is part of the Alaska peninsula which merges into the Aleutian islands, extending nearly 1000 miles southwest.  The Aleutians are the weather capital of the world, turning out some of the nastiest weather the planet has known, but you wouldn't know it today.

I'm racing the sunlight for Montague island, where I've heard a cabin sits on a bay.  A cabin is sounding real good after a long day of flying.  It's about 11pm.

Made it to Montague island, but the sun had set and I wasn't exactly sure whrere the cabin was, so I retreated here to Evans Island, which I had overflown 15 minutes prior and had seen a landing strip.  I was prepared to throw the tent out, but found a backdoor unlocked to a building and set up camp on the couch.  This is the next morning, and in a few minutes the sun will hit the airplane, melting off the frost and persuading the engine to come to life.

Next morning at Montague island-- found the cabin.  A huge expanse of beach made for a nice landing spot.  The tides around here can change drastically.  My tide tables put high tide at 3:45AM, and the water was now 15 feet lower than that.  The tides in the Knik arm change an average of 33 feet, putting it second only to the Bay of Fundy for the world's biggest tide swings (up to 50 feet).  Misjudging a tide can be costly for a cub parked on a beach.

Coming to an understanding with each other before another water crossing

More bears than humans on the island?

Shelter Cove on Hinchinbrook Island, as viewed from the beach.  Another hike to check out a different cabin.

Valdez, Alaska.  Lunch was a homemade treat from a nearby cafe, owned by a lady who moved to Alaska many years ago for solitude.  She lived in the bush for 9 months and then decided running water and electricity might be nice, so moved to Valdez.

The dark line in these merging glaciers represents the different speeds and erosive turbulence of each glacier.

I flew to Soldotna on the Kenai Peninsula to meet up with Gregg Motonaga and his wife Amanda.  We flew around on the western half of the peninsula for a couple hours.  Gregg making a low pass after I landed at a gravel bar.

More pics in the "Archives", such as "May 2007 Archives" at top left.

Evening Outings

Looking over the nose with the Kenai peninsula on the right and the Chugach mountains on the left.  The water is the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet. The inlet was first explored by Europeans in 1778 when James Cook sailed into it while searching for the Northwest Passage. It was named after Cook in 1794 by George Vancouver, who had served under Cook in 1778. Turnagain Arm was named by William Bligh of HMS Bounty fame. Bligh served as Cook's Sailing Master on his 3rd and final voyage, with the aim to discover the Northwest Passage.
Upon reaching the head of Cook Inlet, Bligh was of the opinion that both Knik Arm and Turnagain Arm were the mouths of rivers and not the opening to the Northwest Passage. Under Cook's orders Bligh organized a party to travel up Knik Arm, which quickly returned to report Knik Arm indeed lead only to a river.
Afterwards a second party was dispatched up Turnagain Arm and it too returned to report only a river lay ahead. As a result of this frustration the second body of water was given the disingenuous name "Turn Again". Early maps label Turnagain Arm as the "Turnagain River".

I stopped off at a gravel bar around 10pm for some hot noodles, some crackers, and a stretch of the legs.  I had flown to Whittier, which was little more than a shipping yard on the other side of Portage Pass as one is heading southeast from Anchorage.   There was a moose on a gravel bar nearby, but a couple of approaches to the nearest landing spot proved too tight for me to get in for a landing.  Fortunately, this bar did not disappoint as the sunset progressed.

Flying home around 11pm I was mesmerized by the awesome sunset.  God has a paintbrush!

Anchorage while on approach to Merrill Field Airport.  Until tomorrow--

I Have Arrived

The new Firman pod is on, and now I just need more junk to stuff in it.  It'll carry extra fuel, survival gear, donuts, and a shrubbery-- a pretty one-- not too expensive.

Making maximum use of the real estate for take off.

31 inch Alaska Bushwheel Tundra tires make a good platform for using a little water on landing

A gravel bar playground

Bird's eye view of the landing strip in the middle of the river, just long enough.

I required stopping on this gravel bar for a PB&J sandwich.

You stopped short?!  That's my move!  (Seinfeld anyone?!?...)

Fun landing spot with a water approach and a couple snags sticking out.

Heading North

Heaps of stuff have been crammed into every nook and cranny, and it's time to go.  I have everything I can think of.  Kinda low on food though.  If I had ham I could have ham and eggs, if I had eggs.  I was planning to fly to Alaska on the Alaska Highway, but got talking with a friend Loni a couple days ago and learned he was headed up with his friend Mark, both in supercubs a couple days after I was planning to go.  So it was decided to be a caravan of three.  I met them in central WA at noon on Satuday.  High noon.

My new headquarters for the summer.

After clearing customs in Kelowna, British Columbia, and while enroute to Quesnel, we take a little time to land at a gravel bar.  Loni Habersetzer, in the middle, teaches off-airport flying.    Loni can make something impossible look graceful in his supercub.  He's a personable guy that's fun to hang out with.  Check out his webpage in my Links section.  Mark has the other supercub and Loni and he have been friends for years, and Mark has some good years of experience behind a supercub.  Good times all around-

Quesnel, British Columbia.  Campfire and a tent for the night.  Good sleepin'

Smithers, B.C.  Where the women are a kind of Lake Wobegon variety and the men are trying to hold their planes down from the wind.  This gal ran the gas truck.  It was only noon, and we were planning to make it to Whitehorse, Yukon by tonight.  Mother nature had other plans, and 60mph winds were just ahead of us on our route.  It was already bad enough, and we landed crosswise to the runway in the grass between the runway and the terminal because of the wind.  We stayed in Smithers for the night to wait for the wind to calm down, which it did the next morning.

Leaving Smithers, headed for Dease Lake, and then Whitehorse, Yukon.  The wind quit, but low clouds and rain/snow made things interesting.  A regional commuter couldn't land because cloud ceilings were about 300 feet off the ground.   We got a special VFR clearance and took off.

My $1.97 thermometer from Lowe's.  Hey, it works...

 

Mark taking off in his cub.

Northway, Alaska.  Back in the USA!  The weather between Whitehorse and Northway was dicey.  We started as a flight of 3, but Loni and I got separated from Mark in the mountains and poor visibility made it impossible to get re-connected.  We ended up taking different canyons, and Mark had to land on a gravel bar because the weather forced him down.  So we arrived a couple hours before him in Northway, and he made it in later.  Northway was out of fuel (not entirely uncommon in AK) but a supply truck arrived just before we left, so we didn't have to use our spare cans we carried.  The bus driver arrived while we were waiting.  He looked just like "Otto" from "The Simpsons."

The visibility through the pass goes down a bit

I landed in Merrill Field, Anchorage, Alaska and got out of the plane to find a rainbow in the background.  How cool is that?

SuperCub N897SP

It's a 1955 Piper SuperCub, and it's family has explored the ends of the continents.  Let's see if it's got another 'round of exploration in it--