OK, before I start on this you need to understand a few things about me.
1. I'm not a tree hugger or uber nature lover. I like AC. I like real plumbing. I'm not afraid of the great outdoors, and I'm willing to get a little dirty as long as I can take a shower pretty quickly after that happens.
2. I don't know jack crap about National Parks. Or State Parks. My family was not one that camped. I have been to the Grand Canyon. I have driven through the Arches thing in Utah. I attended a wedding at Governor Dodge. And I hiked in Arizona twice.
3. I love oddball people and I think we are all oddballs in our own special way. We all have a story, no matter how mundane we think our own lives are.
All that said and much to my surprise, the earth moved for me in Denali ... both literally and figuratively.
Denali National Park is 6 million acres of wilderness, served by a single, 91-mile road. I'm going to say that again. 6+ MILLION acres with ONE road. The park is larger than the entire state of Massachusetts.
Now that you've got your head around that, there's more. Only the first 15 miles of that 91-mile road are paved and accessible to private vehicles (you and the Griswolds in the station wagon). The remaining 76 miles are gravel and can be traversed only by tour buses and only during warm enough months. In fact, the road is not always wide enough for two buses to pass, so use has to be coordinated to avoid a dangerous game of chicken.
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This is a tour bus, just in case you had visions of fancy motor
coaches in your head. The Visitor Center is behind on the right.
Almost camouflaged, as intended. |
There are roads leading to the park on the north and south sides, but they end at or before the park's borders.
REGRET 1: I didn't know any of this when we arrived after a 4-hour train ride with a bus transfer. A little research would have made this leg even more incredible. What I knew was the lodge was beautiful and there was a bit of "civilization" across the street, which made me happy.
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| Civilization, complete with Subway and Harley-Davidson. |
(Note: Our cruise and subsequent land tour were booked entirely through Princess Cruise Lines. All of the properties were owned by Princess. All of the tours we purchased were through Princess. It's a bit like going to Disney where your "freedom" is a bit restricted and your life is run by Walt and/or Mickey. And, like Disney, it can feel a bit claustrophobic and controlled to me.)
We arrived on a rainy day. It cleared up by 8 p.m. when we were scheduled to leave on our three-hour ATV adventure ... Land of the Midnight Sun, remember? The rain had made for a wonderfully wet, slippery, pot-holed and bumpy course. The truth is, I took a few photos. But absolutely none of them did the extraordinary views we climbed any justice, so you won't see them here.
Suffice it to say ... Magnificent doesn't begin to describe the images that bounced off our wide eyes. We saw a moose, up close and personal. I got a small crush on our 16-year-old native Alaskan guide who's name escapes me. And I impressed my husband with my 4-wheeler driving skills. (This girl's papa taught her to drive dirt bikes and go-karts long before Jim came along!)
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Oh, and our rain gear was freaking adorable! We also had
white plastic grocery bags tied around our shoes. Tres chic!
I spent half of my time taking in the unbelievable views and
the other half looking over my shoulder at Jim, mouthing,
"Look at THAT! Just f&cking LOOK AT THAT!" |
That night, while we were lying in bed, drifting off the sleep, I experienced my first earthquake. It was a 4.61, lasted long enough for my half-groggy brain to register the noise of pictures banging on the walls and to think, "Hey, I think this is an earthquake! Wonder what I'm supposed to do?" but not long enough to voice that to Jim. It was bizarre and over so quickly with no sirens and no one running in the halls or onto the street. So we fell asleep.
The next morning, we were herded onto the appropriate bus and, after seeing it had no bathroom, I was not exactly impressed. I assumed this would be the kind of tour that old people take ... some fun facts and figures spouted by the driver, a stop at a lookout point, the opportunity to buy a souvenir and then back to the lodge.
I was right. And I was wrong.
Meet Gary.
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Please excuse the photo. It was taken on the
sly with my phone in less than ideal conditions.
Note the ponytail. It was salt-and-pepper gray
and appropriately wimpy and awesome. |
Gary loved Denali. Gary loved Denali with every fiber in his being. Gary has dedicated his life to Denali and to spreading the gospel of Denali to the rube tourists who are only on his bus because the excursion came free with their vacation package.
Gary had a radio-man's voice ... that of a character player in an old-time radio show, versus the smooth, slick announcer voice of an adman. It's gravely and his words are delivered hard, through a tight, square jaw where his back teeth meet before his lips can soften each sound.
I could have listened to him all day. He drove Jim nuts. Which is par for the course in our relationship, BTW.
Gary is a veteran and learned to drive a bus in the service to avoid peeling potatoes. Upon his discharge, he started driving truck as a way to pay the bills and raise a family, thereby maintaining a CDL.
He made a trek to Alaska one fateful year on what I assume was a psychedelic-mushroom-infused backpacking trip full of free love and the planets aligned. Gary realized his calling. He has returned every summer season since from California, where he lives in a travel trailer to afford this lifestyle, sharing his vast knowledge and engaging personality with those of us who visit.
(I might have made some parts of this up for effect, but you get the idea. However, I do think Gary would enjoy the way I fleshed out his story. He's a master storyteller himself and I believe he'd appreciate my effort to draw the right picture for you.)
Simply put, Gary knows everything about Denali. The tour company he works for does not provide a script for drivers. Anything he shares is based on his personal research and passion.
Gary's got enough passion to fill a cruise ship.
He told us the story of how Denali came about. He reiterated the crucial importance of keeping Denali wild and free. There is a reason there's only one road in. There's a reason he stopped the bus to pick up a piece of styrofoam on the side of the road. There's a reason there's no development to exploit the purity of the wilderness like there is in Yellowstone and every other National Park.
It is truly unlike any other place on earth.
And after one of his heart-string-tugging, beautifully paced soliloquies, he reminded us that this land really WAS our land and that we had a responsibility to preserve it. Then he said he was going to turn off his microphone and asked us to take it all in. "This is your park, afterall."
And I cried.
REGRET 2: I didn't buy Gary a beer.
And, last but not least ...
REGRET 3:
I didn't run here.
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There was path from our hotel into the park. Jim doesn't run and
I wasn't comfortable going into the wilderness by myself. We did walk
a mile or so down this path and back, but I should've gone for a run. |
After two nights here, we boarded a bus for Fairbanks ... the last stop on our adventure.
Exercise: Nothing formal. We walked a little, but there was nothing I'd call real exercise.
Food Splurge: Pizza one night for dinner.
Hair Day Rating (1=worst, 10=best): One decent day and one wet day ... we'll meet in the middle with a 5.
For more about Denali:
http://www.nps.gov/dena/index.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denali_National_Park_and_Preserve
And, yes, this happened while we were in Alaska. Told you it rained a lot:http://www.cbsnews.com/news/dozens-airlifted-from-flooded-denali-national-park/
