Denali National Park to Talkeetna, AK – 161 Miles The day started out like most recent days: cloudy, overcast, and drizzly. After dumping our waste tanks, refilling our fresh water tank, checking e-mail and uploading last night’s blog, we pulled out of the National Park at about 9:30 or 9:45. We were disappointed that the cloudy weather all four nights and three days in the park never allowed us to see Mt McKinley, but it was time to move on.
The Parks Highway south from Denali is in overall excellent shape, with just a few short areas of frost heaving. I could easily have driven the speed limit of 65 mph, but like to stay between 55 and 60 for the sake of fuel economy. We made a fuel stop at Cantwell, still in the light rain. The sky started clearing the farther south we traveled, but mighty McKinley, off to our right, was still shrouded in clouds. There are several overlooks and view points along the way where the mountain is visible on a clear day, and believe me, we stopped at every one of them. But still no luck. We were getting desperate. You see, when we first stopped at Denali I optimistically bought a tee-shirt that proclaimed me to be a member of the 30% Club; i.e., one of the 30% of visitors who actually get to see Mt McKinley. That is because McKinley is so massive it creates its own weather, which is usually bad. On average, the mountain is hidden from view two out of every three days in the summer; thus the 30% success rate for seeing it. Anyway, I was beginning to realize that I could never wear my tee-shirt in honesty.
At one of our viewpoint stops we overheard a lady say she had been in Talkeetna for the past few days and had seen the mountain from there. We hadn’t planned to go to Talkeetna – it’s off on a dead-end spur which branches off the Parks Highway a hundred miles north of Anchorage – but as we approached the highway junction, we were out of options. According to the Milepost, there were no more spots along the highway where McKinley would be visible. On a whim, we turned off on the spur road and drove the 14 miles up to Talkeetna, telling ourselves we could spend the night here and continue on to Anchorage in the morning. By now the clouds overhead were breaking and it was actually getting warm, but as we pulled off the road into the Talkeetna overlook, the view of the Alaska Range to the north was still solid clouds. Dang!
So we drove into the little village of Talkeetna to check out the two RV parks and to find the local church for Mass in the morning. We found the church, but decided we’d rather boondock at a spot we’d seen coming into town, so we headed back up the low hill south of town. The McKinley overlook sits at the top of this hill, just a half-mile before our boondock spot, so we stopped once more to take a look. Sure enough the clouds were actually thinning and we could begin to see what looked like a huge mountain peeking in and out of the mist and clouds. Soon we could see not one, but two large snow-covered peaks towering above the 10,000-ft foothills between us and them. We knew McKinley was visible from here, but weren’t sure of the orientation of it and the surrounding 14- to 17-thousand foot peaks immediately around it. Surely the large peak on the left was McKinley. It was still hazy in the distance, and the background sky was flat white – terrible conditions for photographing the mountain from our location, at least 50 miles away. But I set up my tripod and began shooting away, taking probably 60 photos bracketed at different exposures and zoom settings, and hoping I could enhance the contrast with Photoshop when I get home. Meanwhile, the clouds were moving in and out, and slowly an even more massive shape began to emerge to the right, or east, of the peak I had been shooting. Oh crap! Had I wasted 50 shots on the wrong mountain? About this time a local came riding by on a bicycle, so I confirmed with him that the new mountain was truly Mt McKinley. Oh well, at least I wasn’t still shooting film. Mt McKinley slowly drifted in and out of the haze, never showing its entire summit, but still dwarfing what turned out to be its 17,400-ft neighbor, Mt Foraker, and their “little” brother, 14,573-ft Mt Hunter. The clouds soon closed in, hiding all three peaks. We closed up shop and drove back down into the village to have a dish of ice cream to celebrate our good fortune. Maybe tomorrow will dawn a clear day and we’ll get a chance to see the full mountain in all its glory. But even if not, I can wear my tee-shirt without feeling like I’m lying to myself.
A quick word about Talkeetna is in order. It’s a tiny burg of old log cabins from bygone days, but spruced up as shops, bars, and restaurants. It’s located on the bank of the Sulsitna River, and began life as a trading post and riverboat stop in the mid-1890’s. The Milepost calls it “a unique blend of old-time Alaska small town and modern tourist destination.” A bumper sticker on a car proclaimed, “Talkeetna – Where the road ends and life begins.” If that’s not the town motto it should be. I saw very few out-of-state license plates, and judging by the appearance of most of the people in the shops and outdoor restaurants around the square, I’d guess it’s the weekend playground for Anchoragites (or whatever you call people from Anchorage). It’s also a hub of bush-pilot activity, with several air charter services offering sight-seeing flights to and around Mt McKinley. In the late spring it’s the hub of activity for McKinley climbing expeditions, flying the climbers and their gear up to the Kahiltna Glacier at 7200 ft for the start of their climbs. It’s a charming town, and I’m glad that serendipity brought us here.
No comments:
Post a Comment