John Rachal's Blog

DAY 32, June 22, Saturday

Because we didn’t want to lose our parking place by having someone park in front of our camper, thus preventing us from hooking up, we stayed in Pioneer Park’s parking lot as the hordes of runners, walkers, pushers of baby strollers, and other assorted humanity stormed the massive parking lot and prowled for a space since the race would end in the park. One small RV moved out, and we immediately hooked up and moved to his spot since it was well shaded in the afternoon, which is to say until almost midnight. We visited with neighbors and generally wiled away the day reading, writing, tending to one or two camp chores—including permanently repairing the leak that dripped on me in the middle of the night a few weeks ago.

About 8 pm, armed with backpack and rain jacket, I kissed my wife farewell and headed off to battle by walking the half-mile to the shuttle stop and riding over to a point a quarter mile from the start line at the university. Race numbers went into the 4000s, and well-wishers added to the masses. One might think that a mere 10 port-o-potties could be sadly minimalist for over 4,000 people, and one would be right. Possibly having overly hydrated, and definitely having a bladder whose outermost boundaries can fit in a gnat’s navel, I stood in a 75 yard long line waiting my turn and just emerged as the gun went off. I worked my way into the crowd and we shuffled and waddled forward and I crossed the start line about four minutes after the gun. It was a bit like a parade: Along the route there were surely two thousand spectators cheering, barking, partying, eating, even dancing. I found two ladies of a certain age walking and talking in what seemed a casual, unhurried pace, but I was hanging on for dear life to keep up about five or ten yards back. They would have dropped me altogether had I not resorted to a 15 yard jog every now and then. Everyone, including the dinosaur, the three blind mice ladies, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow, the giraffe, and certainly all the partying spectators seemed to have a grand old time. I finished with tired thighs about a quarter to midnight, a full hour or so slower than the last time I did a 10K, with Val waiting for me at the finish line. I need to walk more.

DAY 33, June 23, Sunday

We both slept in and eventually got on the road for Denali National Park, on Highway 3 heading south. Suddenly there was a moose and her two calves at the edge of the forest but, as with the grizzly the other day, we were too close when we spotted her and missed any chance of a photo, short of slamming on the brakes and backing up with a camper. I am typically the slowest driver on the road, often well under the speed limit. But a courtesy has evolved here: you hit a clear stretch for passing and you turn on your right blinker, slow down, and sometimes even partially move over to the shoulder to encourage people to pass you, which they do often with an appreciative wave.

Since we surrendered our month-away Denali National Park reservations, Val booked three nights at the Rainbow RV Park a mile or two outside the entrance to DNP and arrived there around 4 pm. It’s the usual RV park: gravel and dirt surface, water and electric hookup, separate dump station, maybe if you’re really lucky a few trees in your campsite, anywhere from 8 to 20 feet or so of separation from other rigs, sub-Motel 6 bathrooms (or what I imagine Motel 6 bathrooms to be), possible nice scenery in the distance (as here), but the immediate environs considerably less so. Picnic table, pay showers, very sketchy wi-fi. Paul B. Johnson State Park outside of Hattiesburg it ain’t, and by a long shot.

We meandered over to the park and stood in a line for bus tickets deeper into the park at the bus depot. To keep traffic down and preserve the wilderness of the park, you cannot drive more than 15 miles in to a campground at that point (where we had our original reservations beginning July 24). But you can take a bus up to 92 miles in, 184 round trip, for a 12 hour day. You can get off anytime and wait for another bus either going or coming. We decided to each go in as far as the Eielson Visitors Center, 66 miles in, and hope for wildlife along the way. All along we had planned to go in on separate days since even this 132 mile round trip is eight hours, and we didn’t want to leave the hounds alone that long. So Val goes in tomorrow, departing at 9 am, and I depart Tuesday at 8 am with a possible hike leaving from the Eielson Visitors Center, then returning on a later bus, provided room is available.

There have been some rumors that the U. S. Senate is considering a bill to move the whole park to Kentucky to make it more accessible. Alaskans I talked to are in quite a tizzy about this, accusing Kentucky lawmakers of a land grab, whereas those same lawmakers are saying it’s all for the public good. But the actual costs of moving Denali mountain itself, not to mention lesser mountains and all the animals, are likely to prove prohibitive, and most commentators view the project as unlikely to be realized.

DAY 34, June 24, Monday

Today was a pretty uneventful day for me, and a full one for Val. As planned, she took the 132 mile, eight hour round trip shuttle excursion into the park, while I hung around camp, took a long walk with Leo (Lucy has been feeling a little below par the last couple of days), and went to the Visitors Center and the post office. The day was cloudy, so Val did not get a view of Denali itself. When she got back to the shuttle stop, she called and amazingly my phone actually rang, so the dogs and I picked her up since it is only a couple of miles from our RV site. There are several little stores right by the RV park, and Val and I had dinner at Prospector’s Pizza.

DAY 35, June 25, Tuesday

Today was my turn to go into the park, and the weather was gorgeous, at least at the start. The grandeur and wildness of the park are quite stunning, though as with all extraordinary things, saturation can set in after enough time and make their extraordinariness seem rather passé. Still, the place is amazing, and the shuttle ride is a must for visitors, though Val and I agreed that we were happy to have chosen the 8 hour ride and not the 12 hour one—all on gravel and often quite curvy, with places where I swear we weren’t three feet from a precipitous and calamitous end. We saw Denali from about 75 miles—majestic even at that distance, but by the time we reached our turn-around point at Eielson, the whole sky was cloudy and the mountain obscured. Temperatures on the mountain have been recorded as low as 93 below zero—much colder than the coldest on Everest—and winds at 150 mph. Climbers have been blown off the mountain. I still well remember as a 14 year old staring at and being in awe of the Harvard climbers who had just returned from their six-week ascent in 1963, bearded, rugged, and somehow gigantic in my impressionable imagination. They were first to climb via the Wickersham Wall, and their VW bus said “Wickersham Wall Expedition,” and the fact that I remember that is testimony to the impression they made. You can google Wickersham Wall Expedition and see several pictures of them on or near the mountain, along with a reunion picture of most of them here a few years ago. Their ascent came exactly 50 years after the first ascent in 1913, one that required a full month just to reach the base of the mountain.

We had pretty good luck on the ride with wildlife, or at least with grizzly sows and two year old cubs. We saw one caribou at a distance, and another close, but lying down. Val saw a moose yesterday, and the driver said they saw eight yesterday, but moose in Denali have Tuesdays off, so my group missed them. The grizzly cubs were large, not substantially smaller than mama. One of them was taking a bath in a little pool of water, totally naked in front of God and everybody. In fact most of the wildlife go around naked in the park and don’t seem to think a thing about it. Custom is king.

We head out tomorrow, either for Denali State Park (not National Park) if they have a vacancy, or some spot along the road. Then on to Talkeetna, where Val wants to stay four nights.