Home Page

We left Anchorage on Saturday, August 11 and headed south on the Seward Highway. It was a beautiful drive through verdant mountains dotted with dozens of lakes. The brilliant fireweed, lining the highway, made it all the more spectacular.

When we reached Seward, we checked into the Bear Creek RV Park about seven miles outside town. We had really wanted to stay in town at one of the beachfront parks but they don’t take reservations – it’s first come, first serve – and they were packed. Oh, well – we do have waterfront spots reserved in Homer later in the week.

As we drove into the town of Seward (population 2,500) we were awed by the setting. Flanked by rugged mountains and sparkling Resurrection Bay, Seward is incredibly scenic. The city serves as the gateway to Kenai Fjords National Park. On August 12, we boarded Renown Tour’s Glacier Express for a 6-hour, 120-mile tour of the bay and the National Park. We chose this tour company because a National Park Ranger was on board to narrate during the trip. As we cruised, we were reminded of parts of the Hawaiian coast with similar steep cliffs, green hillsides and crystal clear blue water. Just outside the harbor, we saw two sea otters floating on their backs in the bay. They were so cute! The National Park Ranger on board explained that they have such a high rate of metabolism, they must consume 25% of their body weight every day. Wow! Don’t I wish???

During our cruise, we saw Dall porpoises, humpback whales, and Steller sea lions. From the bird world, we saw tufted and horned puffins, common murres, and many other types of sea birds. We passed by a number of glaciers and dozens of islands and bays. Jerry enjoyed the cruise a lot. I would have enjoyed it, too, had I not forgotten to take a motion-sickness pill. After two hours, I was wretching and trying to die. So, the beautiful photos along the way are to Jerry’s credit.

We cruised into Aialik (Ay-eye’-uh-lik) Bay and stopped at Aialik Glacer, one of the few tidewater glaciers (i.e. they empty into the ocean) that is not receding. It was incredible to be so close to the face of the glacier and hear it creak and groan before pieces of it crashed, loudly, into the ocean. Some of the ice sections that fell were so large they created waves. I stayed glued to the fantail of the ship, where the ship moved least, praying to feel better. I finally gave up and went inside to a comfortable chair and fell asleep. It was good to reach shore and put my feet back on solid ground. Whew! I won’t make that mistake again. I will take my Bonine, I promise!

On Monday, August 13, we drove to Exit Glacier, one of the many glaciers in Kenai Fjords National Park. During our visit, we hiked to the terminus and learned that Exit Glacier descends 2,500 feet over its nearly three-mile length. It, along with 31 other glaciers, is fed by the Harding Icefield, which covers more than half of the 607,805 acre Kenai Fjords National Park, at 50 miles long and 30 miles wide. Named for President Warren G. Harding, who visited Seward in 1923, the Icefield is a relic from the past ice age. The Icefield conceals a mountain range under ice that is several thousand feet thick. As it recedes, it uncovers glacially carved valleys that fill with sea water to form stunning fjords such as those we saw on our cruise yesterday. Interestingly, Harding died of a heart attack only two weeks after visiting this grand place. For you word lovers, we did learn a new word here: Firnification – the process of compacting snow and ice into glaciers.

We visited the Alaska SeaLife Center in Seward on Monday afternoon. Built at a cost of $56 million, this is an impressive facility, funded by the settlement from the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill. As the only coldwater marine-science facility in the Western Hemisphere, it is said to be one of Alaska’s finest attractions, and serves as a research and educational center for marine life. The center also provides rehabilitation for injured marine animals. There are many regular exhibits but, without a doubt, the highlight of our visit was the series of two story-deep, glass-sided tanks. Upstairs, we had the above-water view of seabird rookeries and recuperating harbor seals, while below deck we were eyeball-to-eyeball with prowling sea lions and puffins diving for dinner. We spent a delightful afternoon there and highly recommend it to those who visit Seward.

We continue to marvel as to what a small world we live in. We went into an ice cream shop in Seward and a familiar-looking man stepped in line behind us. Jerry and I looked at each other as if to say, "I know him, but who is he?" – you know how it is when you see someone in unfamiliar surroundings. I asked the man where he was from and he replied with a grin, "Where do you think I’m from?" When I said, "Arkansas", he got a surprised look on his face, too. We then explained that we are from Arkansas and he introduced himself as Jay Dickey. We all had a big laugh but what are the odds that you would run into a former Congressman from your home state in Seward, Alaska? Strange, for sure, but it was good to see a familiar face and have a visit with hometown "folk".

We sadly left Seward (it was one of our favorite stops to date) and headed north on the Seward Highway to its junction with the Sterling Highway then turned west to the coast along Cook Inlet, then south to the town of Homer on Kachemak Bay. We checked into Heritage RV Park, our most expensive park so far ($70+ a night after discounts!), where we would have full hookups and a space right on the water.

Homer is an interesting little town of 5,000 souls set against a backdrop of glaciers, peaks and fjords. And the community spirit is large here. If you don’t believe me, visit the Pratt Museum in Homer. Many community members were homesteaders, drawn to this area in the 1940’s. Their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren now fill the town. We were able to visit with one of the original Homer settlers who now volunteers at the museum. She and her husband, natives of a small community near Poplar Bluff, Missouri, bought an old Army truck, built a flat bed on the back of it, loaded up all their worldly possessions and struck out for Alaska some 60 years ago. When they reached Homer, they staked their land claim and began their new life. There were no jobs to be had. Life consisted of surviving – building and maintaining a cabin; planting, harvesting, and storing vegetables for year-round consumption; hunting animals and fishing to feed the family; and trading for goods like cloth to make clothes. This really was a frontier and these were the people who tamed it. The Pratt Museum has captured much of this pioneer spirit and the community bond that resulted. Visit the museum and you will gain a true feeling of what it’s like to be a part of this community. Interestingly, just before our visit there, we heard on TV that Homer has been named the "Best Wilderness Town to Live In" by National Geographic – quite an honor, I’d say.

Southeast of town lies a five-mile long needle of land called the Homer Spit. Generally known as "the Spit", this is where most of the tourists congregate in the summer months. Here, you can feast on seafood to your heart’s content, shop for specialty gifts, arrange bear-watching trips and go fishing in search of 300 pound halibut. We opted for the bear-watching and made arrangements with Hallo Bay, Inc (not located on the Spit) for a five-hour trip to Katmai National Park.

It was one of the highlights of my life. The flight in the bush plane to Katmai National Park was spectacular but there really are no words to describe the feeling of being on the ground, within only a few feet of 20 grizzlies fishing for salmon. I was overcome with excitement and awe. We saw, among the group, three mama bears: one with three cubs, one with two, and one with a single older cub. And we saw a number of male grizzlies. We learned so much about brown bears from our guide, Dave, who has been studying bears for 20 years and guiding for five. In our group, there were three Germans, four Australians, and us. We were instructed to stay close together, as bears view their world in "size". If they see our group as bigger than they are, they won’t bother us. If there is only one of us, we might not be so lucky. It was an awesome experience – one that I will never forget and would like to repeat some day. We even got to see two of the mama bears nurse their babies! It was the most amazing experience to hear the cubs purr like big kittens and to see mama and babies curl up together for a nap. I can’t do it justice with words. You just have to look at the photos.

I do have some observations about our trip so far:

Alaska is an incredibly big state. It has over 34,000 miles of coastline – more than the rest of the U.S. combined. It is the largest state, by far, with 586,412 square miles of land area. In fact, if you divided Alaska in half, it would still be larger than any other state. Eat your heart out, Texas! On the average, there is one person per square mile.

Alaskans do love their coffee as evidenced by coffee houses and free standing kiosks every few blocks. There are no large chains here, just independently owned shops that make fabulous coffee. I am hooked.

Interestingly, I think we have seen every camping mode that exists. We have seen tents, of course, and all kinds of recreational "vehicles" including pop-up campers, campers that slide into the back of pickup trucks, pull-around trailers, fifth wheels, motorhomes of all sizes and shapes, and we’ve seen a family pull their ski boat into a campground and sleep in it. We even saw a vehicle with a German license tag in the Anchorage campground that looked like a converted garbage truck. We didn’t know if they had come to camp or to clean up! But the thing that has shocked us most is the number of older people who sleep in their cars. At many of the campgrounds we’ve stayed in, we have witnessed older folks (older than us!) who rent a campsite, pull out their cooking gear and prepare their meals, then sleep in their cars. I can’t imagine . . . we suppose that it’s the only way they can afford this adventure and it makes us sad. But, then again . . . good for them, for doing it! Sure makes us feel a little guilty sometimes as we bask in "luxury" in Bubba.

There are many, many foreign visitors from all over the world. It seems that the rest of the world is in awe of our last frontier, too.

Alaskans have a quirky sense of humor that is often displayed in their naming of places and things. Guess it comes from too much time in the dark of winter. Among our favorites: Wrecking company in Wasilla - The Happy Hooker. Bar south of Fairbanks - Skinny Dick’s Halfway Inn. You gotta’ wonder about these guys.

Tomorrow, we begin to work our way toward Valdez via Palmer and Glennallen. Until next time, happy trails to you . . . til we meet again!