(There’s a reason there are more pictures than prose on this page. The reason is the pictures, even though they don’t do Alaska justice.)
When I was just out of college I sat down to read a book in Rockdale’s library, written by an elderly travel author. He said:
“Don’t go to Alaska when you’re young. If you do, everything else you see in your life will be a disappointment.”
He was right.
Sue and I had two main goals when we made a quick trip to the 49th state at the end of May.
I wanted to see 20,320-foot Mt. Denali. She wanted to see whales. As you can see, both those goals were achieved in spectacular fashion.
ALASKANS—I won’t say I had any trepidation about meeting Alaskans on this trip but I wondered how I would find them.
I’ve really known only one Alaskan in my life. That was the late Duane Vincent, legendary RHS basketball coach. Duane was as good as it gets as a coach. And he was a better man than he was a coach.
That sets a very high standard for my impression of Alaskans. And, you now what? They did Duane proud, especially the people at Talkeetna Air Taxi and Kenai Fjords Tours.
THE HIGHEST—The “iffiest” goal was seeing Denali. Most mountains create their own weather but the former Mt. McKinley is a special case.
It’s visible from the ground about 30 percent of the time. We went in May to maximize our chances of seeing it, even booked a small plane ride above the ever-present clouds.
We drove north from Anchorage as mist turned into drizzle, then rain.
But Denali has been known to thrust its crown above clouds up into the blue sky above. That was our hope.
Vikki and Amanda of Talkeetna Air Taxi talked to pilots above the Alaska Range and delivered the disheartening news. The summit was not visable.
Vikki found out we were staying in Anchorage, 125 miles away and offered to re-schedule next day.
We accepted. Vikki text-ed us early the next morning and said “come on up!”
THE TOP—That next morning, just north of Willow, I drove up a small hill and heaven burst into view before me.
It was Denali, crystal clear, and its acolytes, 17,400-foot Mt. Foraker and seemingly tiny 14,573-foot Mt. Hunter.
Except Mt. Hunter is higher than any peak in the other 49 states.
Pilot Dave then proceeded to fly us to the top of North America.
I could go on (and on) but just stare at the photo to the right. And it looked better than that.
BROWN TOO—The following morning found us at sea with Kenai Fjords Tours off Seward with an exceptional tour boat captain who introduced himself only as “Chad.”
We had scarcely cleared the harbor when he found the first whale. I thought my wife was going to jump overboard and pet it under its 20-foot-long chin.
So we had our whale sighting. Except Chad didn’t quit. He kept spotting them and expertly stopping for best views.
We simply could not believe it. Sue hadn’t been this happy since the night at the Kansas City Royals game when I ate her too-spicy hot dog and bought her one with less pepper.
By the day-long cruise’s end we had literally lost count of the number of whales we had seen. We think it was around 12-15, even the elusive Fin Whales, second largest mammals on earth.
We also saw orcas and humpback whales, seals, sea lions, otters, bald eagles, puffins and the magnificent Aialik Glacier creaking and groaning and “calving” ice into the bay.
I knew I was going to write about this, so I asked one of the crew what Chad’s last name was. She didn’t know.
On one of our last whales she opened the door for me and said “Brown.” I wondered how she found out my name. She smiled, “no, Chad’s last name is Brown.”
What a perfect trip.
PHOTOS BY SUE BROWN (THE GOOD ONES) AND MIKE BROWN
- Log in or Subscribe to post comments.