Valdez, Seward, Homer, Anchorage, Denali State Park and Coho
Let’s see, where did I last leave off? Oh, yes the belly of the ferry. The ferry spit me out in Haines where I stayed one night and not finding anything that sparked my interest I left and drove to Valdez. A great town set at the terminus of the Alaskan Pipeline and now infamous as the site of the worst oil spill in US history. Visible signs of the spill are mostly gone unless you dig down a few inches, but the long-term effects of the spill are still taking a toll on the local population of sea creatures. The town is ringed by towering peaks and sits on the north side of a protected bay with a narrow entrance. It’s hard not feel overcome with awe at the natural beauty of this spot.
One afternoon I hired a boat to take me out to the Columbia Glacier that calves directly into Prince William Sound. It’s a strange feeling to be on a boat moving slowly through the water as it weaves in and out of small and large icebergs trying to get close to the glacier. I felt as if I was sailing on some primordial sea and was sure I would see some misshapen sea creature among all the crystal blue pieces of ice, but settled for a couple of otters. The face of the glacier is three miles wide and hundreds of feet high and is in rapid retreat, a testament to our warming climate.
From Valdez I took another ferry over to Whittier and the amazing Kenai Peninsula south of Anchorage. Arriving in Whittier I decide to keep moving and head to Seward. Leaving Whittier requires driving through The Tunnel a two-and-a-half mile long single-lane hole through Maynard Mountain. Traffic runs one way for a half hour, then the other way, and every once in awhile they send a train through shutting down traffic in both directions.
Seward, which sits on the southeastern coast of the Kenai Peninsula in Resurrection Bay, was a place I found difficult to leave. The town is eclectic with lots of little shops and few cool bars to check out live bands or watch the Stanley Cup playoffs. I camped right on the bay and would watch sea otters dig clams in the eerie twilight that passes for night here in the north. It was in Seward that I decided after a few weeks of contemplation to adopt a dog.
I had checked out a few animal shelters, but nothing clicked. When I arrived at the Nikiski Extended Life Animal shelter, I knew I had found the right animal – only problem there was two of them. Both four-month old pups’ one male and the other female. I struggled with the decision, but decided to go with the Male based on a hunch that he was the right dog for me. He looks like a black lab, but has a white cross on his chest and four white paws. His mom was a border collie and his dad a lab-husky mix. He has a laid-back temperament and loves the van. He thinks it’s our den (which I guess it is) and guards it with every once of courage he can muster. I named him Coho after the Alaskan salmon and the town where we camped out the first night we were together.
Before I could pick him up, I had to drive back to Anchorage to fly to Seattle for my friend Mike’s wedding. It was a great little break from my trip. I got to see a lot of my friends and hung out for the weekend. I flew back to Anchorage on Sunday, bought dog supplies, picked up Coho and headed to Homer after a night camping out in a state park near the town of Cohoe.
I camped out on Homer Spit, a long stretch of land that extends out into the middle of Kachemak Bay on the southwestern shores of the Kenai Peninsula. I dedicated most of my time to roaming the beaches with Coho getting to know each other and figuring out our daily routine. Since I have gotten the dog, life has become very simple. Long hikes four times a day provide great exercise for us both; we usually cover eight to ten miles a day, which is keeping me fit and trim. I dedicate mornings to my writing, which leaves the rest of the day for eating, reading and a few errands when needed. Simple but good.
Anchorage turned out to be an enigma for me. Since the city is so spread out, I had a hard time getting a sense of the place. After spending so much time in towns that I can walk across in about ten minutes, I wasn’t sure how to approach Anchorage. It seemed like a typical suburban sprawl in the middle of gorgeous mountains and beautiful bays. There were some great parks in the middle of town where Coho loved to frolic, but other then that I had a hard time getting a handle on the place.
From Anchorage, we headed north to Denali State Park where we camped out on Byers Lake. We hike the soft dirt trails that circled the lake and enjoying incredible sunlit views of Denali the highest peak in North America. Coho went for his first swim in a cold mountain stream, earning his name. We were hiking down a trail when he refused to cross a long swinging suspension bridge and dove into the stream in a panic, afraid I was going to leave him behind. Swept along by the swift current, something I don’t think he counted on, he managed to make it to the other bank and claw his way up the ten-foot bank making his way back to me.
Now I am spending a week in Denali National Park, a little constrained by the restrictions on dogs here, but enjoying it none-the-less.
Until next time, Coho says woof.