Pulling into the ferry terminal parking lot an hour or so before loading time, we found that many of our fellow passengers were already there, Marie and Philippe among them. Someone behind the desk had done their magic and now our friends were ticketed and ready to go. When we found them they were hard at work on a puzzle. Guess a lot of folks spend time waiting here as 3 or 4 other tables also sported puzzles, though no one was working on them. Over the course of the next hour and a half (the ferry was late) Philippe and Jim made quite a bit of progress. Occasionally being encouraged by other people waiting in the lobby and the ferry employees, too, who indicated that seldom do passengers get as close to finishing as these boys were. Marie and Susan mostly looked at the colors and wondered when they’d get to board so they could get some rest. Did we mention the ferry was due to leave at 12:30 AM?

Finally the ship arrived, folks got moving and Marie and Susan headed toward the door. JC (remember our friend from Fairbanks/Denali?) had clued us in long ago about insuring the best ferry experience. Since one can not sleep in one’s vehicle on the 40 hour ride down to Prince Rupert, B.C., the choices are to pay for a berth or sleep on the top deck in the Solarium. This was the area behind the ship’s bridge with walls of windows down each side and a roof about half way to the back of the boat, but open in the rear- so sort of outside, but with some protection from the wind. We planned on camping out up there on lounge chairs for the two nights we
would spend aboard. In order to get the primo Solarium spots we had been advised by JC to split up, one person parking the vehicle and the other getting on earlier with the “walk-ons”. Seemed like a good plan, but when the ladies left the guys were still hard at work on the puzzle, showing no indication of leaving with some 30 pieces of blue sky still laying out on the table. Hmmmm, well hopefully they’d make it. Otherwise it would be a long drive to get down to where they could pick up their women (if they wanted to even face what that might be like!

Susan and Marie secured the best looking ‘camp’ spot, out of the wind, but we would later find out was quite noisy due to the engine room right behind the bridge-who knew? They were watching from the back deck as vehicles started loading. Still no sign of Jim and Philippe as the rows of cars, trucks and a couple campers slowly made their way down the ramp onto the lowest deck. Not good. Then, just as the crew guy started waving on the row with the empty VW bus, the missing drivers appeared and made it to their respective rides just in time. Whew! It was quite a sight (and gave Susan a serious appreciation for the size of this ferry) when Thumper finally began the slow decent onto the “Taku”. Shortly after all were reunited on the top deck, Jim and Philippe admitted that they just couldn’t leave until the puzzle was finished-even though they were the very LAST people in the lobby-the desk crew was cheering them on as they raced against the departure clock. Fortunately they made it, with no time to spare, but with a true sense of satisfaction nonetheless.

Even though it was after 1:00am by the time the Taku pulled away from the dock, it was hard to settle down. The full moon was shining bright over the water and reflecting off the snow covered mountains on either side of the fjord with magical silver light. Haines was a sparkling little nook in the vast landscape growing smaller and smaller as we headed out into the night. Jim, Philippe and Susan shared sips from a flask of Pendleton (yes fans, the best whiskey ever IS available in the Great North) while Marie somehow managed to get to sleep despite the pumping engines. It was a long while we watched the passing of Alaska over the dark water. One by one the need for sleep overwhelmed the excitement and noise. Finally it was just Jim, who decided sleeping under the stars was the way to go, so he pulled his lounger out onto the open deck and snuggled into his trusty down sleeping bag.

Dawn was breaking as the Taku pulled into Juneau’s ferry terminal. The capitol of Alaska was not visible from here and in fact was about 10 miles away, so we decided to just take a walk along the road to stretch our legs for the hour we had on shore. A bald eagle, clearly bored of humans, watched us from the top of a pier. It was a crisp and clear morning with Alaska once again showing off her beauty. Here there were islands and inlets a plenty, all adorned in the rich greens of a well-watered landscape. Houses were tucked in under impressive trees, surrounded by plants that carpeted every surface that wasn’t rock. Many flowers were still in bloom, leaving us to believe that winter was still a little ways off here in the Inside Passage.

Back on the boat, the day was spent watching incredible landscape pass as we chugged along. There were sightings of porpoise and seals. Orcas, dorsal fins sticking 6 foot above the surface, fished for their lunch offshore. In the distance many times we saw pods of whales spouting and on a couple of occasions breaching, leaving us with the classic silhouette of whale-tail as they dove. The forward lounge was all glass and offered a comfortable, warm place from which to watch our progress. Though we had photos to download and stories to write, it was really impossible to do anything but watch this wonderful world go by. Susan had the pleasure of meeting a brother and sister traveling together back to the brother’s home in Ketchikan. They were both from Michigan. J Cathy had recently retired from the Coast Guard, where her last 15 years had been spent patrolling these waters. Scott had moved North after a visit to see her and never looked back. Though he admitted it was a bit hard to make a living in the fishing-town-turned-cruise-ship-mecca, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere

else. One of the things he said was that because of the isolation people get really good at entertaining themselves. Most all of the taverns in his town have live music nearly every night and there is a very active art community. As with most people we talked to, though they appreciated that the tourist dollars made it possible f or them to live in such a special place, there was still a collective sign of relief when the last ship left port for the winter. Scott and Cathy also had a remarkable knowledge of the sea life and geography of the region, which made for interesting conversation as we watched the water for signs of life.

Evening came and after a satisfying meal drawn from the coolers and giant bags of food in our ’camp’ we wandered back down to the front lounge to enjoy the view. Though we were all quite tired yesterday’s very late night, no one wanted to miss the passage through Wrangell Narrows. This section of the route wound though a very tight series of channels that brought the ship as close as 20 feet to shore. That may not sound like such a tight squeeze, but let me tell you, it’s a sight you’ll never forget when the front crewman turns the spotlight to the left and you see LAND right beside you! It was a wild, slow ride through a series of lit buoys that marked the water deep enough for the Taku. We were all praising the captain’s skill as the hours went by and we were still in narrow channels where one mistake could cause the ship to ground. Again, the moon created a glowing, mysterious feel reflecting on the water and lighting the not so distant landscape. By the time we were through there everyone was ready to fall asleep, pounding engines or no.

Dawn brought us to Ketchikan, our last stop in Alaska. There was enough time for a quick ride into town to check out the famous totem poles that adorn various street corners and parks.

Our bikes had not gotten as much use on the trip as we had hoped, but on this fine morning they were just the ticket. It was pretty exhilarating to blaze along the water-front the couple miles to the historic downtown. There was no one on the street and it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves, except for the gazillion birds that were everywhere, looking to snack on the salmon that were fighting their way up the rapids in the creek that runs through this part of town. Like many of the coastal towns in this part of Alaska, Ketchikan is literally perched on the water’s edge with little flat ground available so structures go UP and many are built on stilts. There is a kind of crazy wooden sidewalk that clings to the rocks behind a stretch of buildings in the original part of town, which was build during the gold rush. All in all, we wished that we’d had more time to go exploring here. Guess we’re just going to have to come back ;-)

Late that afternoon we arrived in Prince Rupert, British Columbia. It was our last night hanging out with Marie and Philippe as they would be staying a few days waiting for the ferry to Victoria Island while we would be heading inland to catch the Cassiar Highway South down to Vancouver and into Washington on our final leg of the journey. We decided to cook up a long awaited Cajon feast with the shrimp that had been chilling in our fridge since Haines. Several possible campgrounds were identified on our tourist maps so we headed out of town hoping to get settle before night fell. Sadly, what they don’t tell tourists is that they take down the signs for the provincial campgrounds when they close them for the winter. Darn Canadians! It was quite a few kilometers before we realized this, of course, and with night falling we decided to just bivy in what looked like a Department of Transportation parking lot a little ways off the road. Not a very special camp for our last night, but Jim made up for it by cooking us super yummy bbq shrimp Paul Prudhomme style. It was well received by all and by the time we had licked the dishes clean it was getting pretty late. And cold. Once again we were so grateful for our sweet little Thumper, which provided a wonderfully comfortable and warm place to enjoy the final evening with our friends.

Morning came along with a large truck sporting the BC Department of Transportation insignia. As the driver pulled alongside the bus we watched out the window and wondered if our luck in free roadside camping had just run out. But no, he was just curious about why the hell anyone would camp here! Philippe explained our search of the night before, which amused the driver it seemed and he wished us all luck as he drove off. After enjoying a morning espresso, the time came for us to say good-bye.

We parted ways grateful to have had the opportunity to spend time with such awesome people. We headed east along the Skeena River, which wound through series of mountains for many miles inland. Along the way we stopped at a closed park, which though unsigned, was easy enough to find. We had read that it held one of the last stands of old growth cedar in BC. These are the giants from which totem poles are traditionally carved. It was a blissful autumn walk through a forest of fallen leaves and along a crystal clear creek. The trees were amazing! You could hardly get a real look at the whole grove, thick and tall as they were. Imagining carving one of them instilled a new respect for those people who could and did. We spent a long while wandering there and grooving on the silent majesty of the place, again so grateful to be where we were, doing what we were doing.

We still had one more chance to experience the native art and history of this area by visiting ’Ksan, a reconstructed Gitxsan village. This amazing collection of traditional log buildings houses a museum along with the Kitanmax School of Northwest Coast Indian Art. To wander the grounds and contemplate the tools, cloths and items of daily life was to gain a deep appreciation of a culture that has lived here for centuries and still thrives in this lush environment. We spent a long time here, imagining a life where the gifts of nature were so abundant that families gathered and hunted all they needed together, leaving a lot of time to create amazing art. They made even the most simple of tools with such elegant and beautiful designs. How different would our world be if, like these folks, the true measured of wealth was how much one gave away…..

We camped that night on the river that had fed these families for centuries. The next morning we had an opportunity to visit a gift shop and found some wonderful treats for our own loved ones back home J. Then on we drove along the river, through tiny towns and miles of forest, noticing the dusting of snow covering the surrounding mountains. Another night spent on a dirt road camped above a roaring river. Finally we were approaching our last border crossing, but not before we got to explore the lush and fruitful Fraiser Valley just to the east of Vancouver. This temperate little haven boasts rich and productive farmland a lot of which seems to be producing organic food. There is a wonderful program, “Circle Farm Tour”, which maps out farms that welcome visitors and sell their products on site. We decided to forgo a visit to the big city and spend the day checking out the local farm scene. It was a blast! We found several honey producers (one of which sold mead ;-), a great dairy with hand made cheeses, a hazelnut orchard and a wonderful
little place whose owners were a potter and a coffee roaster. We joked that we had seen a glimpse of Amber and Judd in 20 years. Theirs was a delightful property, with an old farm house surrounded

by over flowing gardens still bright with color. The pottery shop shared space with the roaster (built in 1910 and still working beautifully!) and we found a pretty impressive collection of coffees, including a VERY yummy Cuban bean. We sipped and enjoyed a cup of that while we wandered the rest of the property. In addition to their other endeavors, they had displayed a pretty nice collection of antiques in one of the outbuildings and also around the gardens, all for sale. A rather large chicken yard housed many feathered friends, whose eggs were also for sale.

Behind the chicks were a couple large beds of vegetables and a pasture for goats beyond that. Over all quite a lot going on, so much in fact that our hostess admitted they were faced with the prospect of having to hire employees to keep on top of everything. Seems the push for local food had almost quadrupled their business this year and they could not keep up!

After a very satisfying day of exploring, we made our way to the border crossing as night was falling. Again, except for a rather lengthy wait for our turn, it was smooth sailing. No need to explain the giant log in Thumper nor the, seriously, hundred pounds of rocks (or the yummy fresh food we bought in Fraiser Valley ;-). We had headed up to Rainer State Park, finding once again a sweet little camp spot just off the road. We’d made it back to the States and though we still had another week or so of driving and visiting friends it felt as though we’d come to the end of our great Alaska adventure.

One thing we have surely come to realize on this trip, no matter where we go Our People are there… and they can usually be found at the farmers market or the brewery. In Haines the market was over, but the Fun-guy was still there in the parking lot a couple days a week. We learned a lot from him and got some really lovely dried mushrooms. We also got the coolest emergency fire starting kit ever. Just a piece of old saw blade run against a slice of magnesium glued into a small piece of wood. You could set the fuzz from your pocket on fire. It was pretty remarkable how that burst into flame with the spark. We enjoyed just hanging out and talking with him about Haines, fungi, eagles and burls. And bears. He told us about a spot on the river outside town where the bears go to feed on salmon running up the river to a lake about 5 miles past the ferry terminal. Sounded like a place we’d check out the next day before our midnight departure. Somewhere along the line we assured him the next day would be sunny, like it always was when we were preparing to leave a place. He smiled skeptically and said, “it’s been a while, but you never know around here”.

The Haines brewery was out at the fairgrounds, on what appeared to be an old Alaskan main street. Turns out it’s a set from the White Fang movie, filmed here a while back and set to be burned down until the town laid claim and turned it into a pretty sweet tourist area. Paul has been providing the good citizens of Haines with a local brew for the past 10 years. He makes a fair selection of beers and a good barley wine, too. We stayed and visited a while, enjoying the sample platter and the photos and notes sent from people all over the world who leave AK with a growler then take pictures of it from wherever they go. It’s quite a fun collection. By the time we were ready to leave it was dark and, being disinclined to drive all the way back out to the Eagle Preserve, Jim asked if we could park right there. Paul responded that he was on the Fairgrounds Board and could not say one way or the other. We took that for a good sign, pulled over by the woods at the back of the parking lot and settled in for the night.

Of course October 2 dawned as clear and fine a day as you could imagine. It was so lovely just driving back into town. Haines lies at the end of the longest & deepest fjord in North America----just at the upper tip of the Inland Passage. Again with the mountains vaulting from the sea, tipped and flowing with glaciers down to forest and wetlands filled with wildlife and back in to the sea. Like the other coastal places we’d visited it is hard to fully describe the extraordinary beauty of water meeting land in Alaska. Lunchtime found us parked by the boats, sorting out things for the ferry journey. As we were finishing up a familiar vehicle pulled alongside us by the dock.

Philippe and Marie! They had gone to Denali, seen the mountain, spent a night in the snow and decided to make a B-line from Fairbanks to Haines to see if they could make the ferry that night. There was a chance of a cancellation on an unpaid reservation. Wouldn’t it be fun camping out on the deck with our traveling friends! Of course, we’d been shut out of the ferry ourselves in Valdez so we hung out for a while catching up

before deciding to meet later out by where the bears go fishing. As we were getting ready to go, a woman came by and told us a shrimp boat was just in and selling off the dock, if we were interested. Why, of course we were. We’d been waiting for off the boat food the whole trip and here it was our last night on “Alaskan soil”. Just to sweeten the deal, turns out this was the boat Jim photographed coming in a bit earlier. Love that real-life foreshadowing! Down to the dock we went to find a couple guys cleaning shrimp. That they had done this before was clear from the casual way they were ripping heads from bodies. It would take a while

for them to get through this boatload so we arrange to return later and get 5 lbs, which we’d share with Marie & Philippe, hopefully having a little bit extra to freeze for some future meal.

Then off we went our separate ways to get those prelaunch errands done. For us that included laundry, showers and a trip by the library to post a story or two through their internet. We couldn’t resist swinging by the Fun-guy to say goodbye and he was smiling big at the cloudless sky. By the time we actually got out the Chilkoot River at the end of the bay there was orange in the sky and an incredible full moon was rising. Eagles soared over the water across a background of cedar and black spruce trees climbing the hill on the other shore. Completely stunning beauty on just another day in Alaska.

Almost the moment we pulled past the closed ranger booth Jim spotted a Mama Brown bear and two cubs crossing the road ahead, up into the woods. As they disappeared we watched the river down along our right side for signs of others. It took a few turns of the road, but there was the tell tale stopped vehicle with binoculars looking out the window. A BIG brown bear was fishing right across the river. He looked very healthy. And oh man! Nothing has ever been cooler than watching this critter wander the side of the river, occasionally swatting at a salmon and inevitably catching it between his paw and the rocks to add a few more pounds to his already autumn sized frame. So casual and oh so powerful, he was the undisputed king of this extraordinary place. His fishing spot was just where the river flowed out of Chilkoot Lake. Another striking blue-green expanse surrounded by gorgeous trees, which hugged the shore as the mountains shot up into the darkening sky.

Stars were visible as we drove back down river to our dinner spot. For several days we’d been planning a feast of local scallop to celebrate this point in the journey, so despite the vast quantity of shrimp chilling in the fridge, we once again busted out the Skaryd girls’ favorite holiday recipe. Alaskan scallops were as incredible as we’d been told and went down easy as we watched the moonlit river flow by. Since we had a couple hours before the ferry loaded we couldn’t resist cruising back up to the lake in hopes of one more bear sitting. Lucky us! The “king” was still fishing and though there was not enough light to really see him well, we could easily hear him on the other shore, snorting and splashing. Jim decided this was a prefect opportunity to take a night sky photo and got the camera and tripod set up down on a small beach near the parking area. We heard a bit more splashing and snorting, suddenly realizing that the king was swimming, rather quickly, across the lake straight for the beach where Jim was set up! In the surprise of the moment it took Jim a minute to grab the gear and something in that set off a flash of light, which caught the bear’s attention. He popped his head up, starring at his projected landing site, I suppose trying to figure out what the heck was up there. Fortunately this resulted in a change of course and he came out of the water about 50’ further down the shore. We both just stood there in amazement as he ambled off toward the campground. Who knew a bear would swim like that? We had heard a story about a bear being spotted almost a mile off the coast near Seward, but that had seemed, well, so unlikely. Now we know. And with that last exhilarating wildlife experience we set off to the ferry in hopes of finding our friends would also be passengers.

Leaving Homer was turning for home, though where that exactly would be was yet to be determined. We made it a ways up the highway heading north along the west side of the Kenai Peninsula. Our camp this night would be high on the cliffs above the water, with views of the volcanoes through the clouds across the Cook Inlet. Next morning found us driving back through Ninilchik, retracing our path all the way around the Turnagin Arm, through Anchorage and Palmer. Thanks once again to the Milepost that Janet and Karl gave us for the trip, Susan found us another sweet riverside camp with a lovely fire but you could feel the chill in the air. Winter was coming for sure. Now that we were heading to Haines to catch the ferry south it seemed almost race to beat the change. Another day of serious driving got us to Tok, where winter was already set in-all the camp grounds in town were closed and the temperature was dropping as we headed to the State Park outside town. Fortunately, they were not closed, as the roadside options were quite limited. That night the pipes froze. Hmmm, at this point Susan is thinking perhaps we have lingered just a bit too long in the North Country. Jim’s not too worried as the pipes are fine, we have plenty of propane and a wonderful place to call home no matter where we are or what the weather is like outside. We are finally getting just a taste of what is to come for the people who call Alaska their home. Tok is known as being consistently one of the coldest places in North America with temperatures pushing -80*F quite often… yeah… that’s 80 degrees BELOW zero. Jim is inclined to put his shorts away at that point.

Our last day of driving in Alaska started chilly, but clear. We turned south from Tok, which took us into Yukon Territory. It is an interesting border crossing here as you leave Alaska at one checkpoint and drive 18 miles before you reach the Canadian checkpoint. Guess if you get out of one country and aren’t allowed into the other, at least you have 18 miles of land you can call home. The Canadian Border Guard was curious about weapons onboard our rig and we assured him we didn’t have any guns at all. “Any bear spray?” he asked… “Nope” we replied. “Don’t you go on hikes?”… “sure”…”Aren’t you worried about bears?” “not really”...”Do you have anything that can be used as a weapon?”… “Well… we have a piece of wood that we can use as a club”. He passed us into Canada muttering something about not being responsible for tourists who get eaten by bears.

The snow covered mountains and pristine lakes lined with autumn colors went on for hundreds of miles. It was, again, extraordinary beauty unmarred by any sign of civilization, save long abandon (and very photogenic) log cabins and the rare gas station-general store outpost. And the old telegraph line. Curiosity got the better of us at one point so we stopped to explore the line looking for old glass insulators. No luck there, but come to find out much of the copper wire remained. Susan, being fond of copper and inclined to make things from it, managed to collect a few yards for a future craft project. Of course our minds were reeling with possibilities for all those miles of copper wire, but lacking sufficient space for ANYTHING else in Thumper or the truck we were satisfied with what we got. That night found us on a lakeside again, watching a pair of trumpeter swans gliding through the water as the colors of the sky changed and grew dark. Tomorrow we would arrive in Haines. But first we had to get back into the country.

Snow was falling that morning as we climbed the final pass that drops down to follow the river to the fjord that leads out to the ocean. The border guard we chatted with when re-entering the US for the second time on this trip was not happy about his temporary assignment to this most lovely, forested outpost. “The weather is terrible” he said. He much preferred Anchorage where he usually lived. “Less rain” Well, I suppose there is that, but a short time later, as the road pulled along side the Chilkat River into the heart of the Chilkat Bald Eagle preserve, I wondered again at his words. Perhaps he’d never come this far down the road. It was breath taking!

Almost immediately Jim spotted a trio of eagles feeding on something a short distance from the road. Not too long after that there was one in a tree and a few soaring along high above the river. We stopped at a pull off that boasted a number of sign boards educating us on the park itself (winter home to more than a thousand of these majestic birds) and the life cycle of eagles and all that is cool and amazing about them (the eagle’s eye is the same size as a human, yet they can see a field mouse from a mile away!). There was also a lot of information on the geological formation of the area as well as the flora and fauna of South Eastern Alaska. Lots of the same animals and plant life as up North, but generally bigger due to the rainfall, food sources and somewhat milder weather (this is a relative statement-it’s still Alaska!) One example provided was about Grizzlies. Up North they feed mostly on berries, grubs or whatever they can find, hibernating a bit longer and maxing out at about 500 lbs (plenty big!). Along the coast they are called Brown Bears, eat mostly salmon and some of the other stuff but can grow to 1000lbs! Having run into a couple of the northern cousins already we were hoping any encounters with bears twice that size would be from the relative safety of the truck. Brain filled with all this new information, Susan decided to take a walk on the river trail and look for more eagles, which she found and observed for a long time with the aid of binoculars (not having the gift of sight these great birds have). Such an amazing gift to watch and know these creatures survive and thrive in this challenging environment.

The road into town ran along the river, past several likely camp spots and a wonderful little grove of trees housing…two old silver trailers! Our people really are everywhere J We explored Haines, stopped at the Information center, getting the scoop on what to do while we were in town. Susan was happy to learn there is a museum with a well-known collection of Native art and artifacts.

There were also quite a few fun, little shops that we would be able to explore the next day. We went by the library to post a blog entry and marveled at the beautiful building in which it is housed. It’s a traditional log style with wonderful carvings, an amazing Totem Pole and lush landscaping. We believed that Susan’s sister, Barb, would particularly appreciate the high esteem in which the community obviously holds its library. J Satisfied there was plenty here to keep us busy until the ferry departure, so we headed back up the river to find a sweet spot to camp and hopefully a few more eagles.

Hmmmm, Homer. A place of legendary beauty and former home of our friend Jill Sheldon. It was, of course, raining when we pulled into town. That’s how it always it….the first day. The beauty was out there, we just couldn’t see it yet. We drove around getting oriented while Susan read from the various printed resources cluttering up the front seat. Once we managed to find our way out to The Spit, we found most of the places there were already boarded up for the winter. Good thing. You could feel in the air that’s not far off. We checked out town. A couple cool buildings, a few galleries and an old theatre advertising the film festival, with the opening gala that night. Well, that could be fun. Nowhere was really so inviting that we wanted to stop, though, so we headed out the East Road just to see where it went. Rolling along past individual shops, then houses, then fields and woods with occasional houses, all the while with glimpses of the water beyond, teasing what we would see if the clouds lifted. Around a bend and what did we find but Fritz Creek General Store and Post Office (they are one). OK, we've got to stop there and see if they have a postcard we can mail to our friend Fritz.

In the manner of general stores here, it is a sturdy log building that says “We’ve been here a long time and we intend to stay”. Inside there’s aisles with a lot of different stuff one might need out on the edge of the world. There is also the post office taking up one corner with its rows of old brass po boxes and a window for the clerk with brass bars and a polished old-growth wood counter. But then, unexpectedly, in the other corner was a deli with homemade organic soups and breads. Yummy! We hadn’t been talking about lunch, but how could you pass up squash, carrot & ginger soup? Or a carrot cake with the thickest crème cheese frosting you’ve seen since the last time someone made it at your house? We were not disappointed! In fact, we are still dreaming about that soup. We should have asked for the recipe.

Now unfortunately, there were not postcards, but that’s not stopping us from our mission to inform Fritz of his place here in Alaska. Jim snaps some photos and we pull out the little Dell printer and Voila! A postcard is created, written, stamped and mailed straight from Fritz Creek! Well, it’s not quite as voila as that actually, as the printer and photo card decide they just can’t communicate, so Jim has to download the photos onto the computer, with whom the printer has an issue as well. It was about an hour before the actual voila moment, but well worth it. Until about a week later when we heard from another homemade postcard recipient that the card arrived without the photo-Guess sometimes the satisfaction is in the process.

So now that we were all warmed up by the soup and inspired by our success in the postcard project we decided to head back to town and find out what we really needed to get around to doing in Homer. The nice lady at the Information Center was talking to the guy in front of us when Susan overheard her mention a Meadery. Say no more, except perhaps what hours it’s open and how to get there. For those who do not know, mead is made from honey, sometimes infused with fruit. It’s one of the earliest known intoxicating beverages and is usually very yummy. Off we went to taste the offerings of ‘Ring of Fire’ Meadery and we were again, not disappointed. They are REALLY into it and have been pulling in honey from a lot of different places to refine and enhance their product. We appreciated this and the history of mead and Homer provided by our lovely hostess Beth. By the time we left we had a few good ideas about how to spend our days here and Jim had somehow gotten it into his head that the Barley Wine Festival in Anchorage (in January!) sounded like a great idea. This was not the last time that idea came up…..

We spent the night in the town camp ground up on a hill overlooking Homer and woke to a kind of cloudy, damp day. While we KNEW the next day would be sunny, our second day a town is often a little sketchy. Oh well. We were still up for doing a hike or at least a walk and were interested in the Wynn Nature Center as they apparently had a lot of good trails and highlighted the traditional use of herbs and other plants at their demonstration gardens. Also, the area was in prime wildlife territory so we were hopeful of seeing, well, something. As a bonus, it was located on the hills high above town (1000feet) so the views were pretty spectacular when you could see, as we could now and again through the clouds. We arrived mid-afternoon and found ourselves vying with a school bus for space getting into the parking lot. OK so there are screaming kids running all over the place. We could escape them (hopefully) but then it turned out that the place was officially closed, though we were welcome to use the trails. They have over 140 acres here, but there were not any maps left. Ok. We had made it 7000 miles from home, we could follow a few signs….But before we left for the trail, the woman managing the kids told us, if we were interested in local goings on there was going to be something the next afternoon at the beach-people were getting together to do a human mosaic to create a giant salmon. It’s to raise awareness about the effect of coal on the environment here. Sounds cool. We’ll think about this. It’s always an interesting experience to participate in a local event. …

So off we went out on to misty moose meadow trail. Long story short, we had a wonderful explore out to a huge, cranberry filled bog then through the forest of red elders and black spruce and meadows of fireweed along the ridge, all the while expecting to see a moose or something. No luck. Finally we stumble onto the Moose Wander trail. At last, surely we’d be running into someone along here. And we did see evidenced, in the form of droppings. In fact moose poop was all we saw of the giants the whole afternoon. To make things more interesting, the trail got narrower and less clear as we went along, until finally it seemed to disappear all together. About 20 feet from the road. We turn away from the pavement and begin picking our way over fallen logs and dense undergrowth looking for the trail it seemed must be there. It had been several hours by then hiking around in the chilly rain. We were ready to get to Thumper and have a grilled cheese sandwich. Eventually we give up and walk the mile back on the road. No critters, but a lovely autumn walk in Alaska.

Ba ck into town and down to the spit we head to our next"destination". The Salty Dog was a pub recommended by friends and guide books. Marie & Phillip, our new friends from Switzerland had gone there and marveled. So we decided to finish our day out there then find a spot on the spit to spend the night. The wind was blowing pretty good when we pull up to park at a closed up camp on the beach down there. We had just passed a tent being almost flattened by it’s power. Looked like it might be quite a night out here. Jill had asked that we call from the Salty Dog, and it seemed an easy enough request to fulfill until we got there. The building is appealing from the outside, a stocky lighthouse amended by an old log building. Ducking in we were instantly reminded that Alaska has no tobacco smoking regulations in bars. Wow! Yuck. We stuck it out long enough to admire the thousands of dollar bills covering every vertical surface and most of the ceiling. But there was really no way to enjoy a beer there between the noise and the smoke. Oh well. Out into the blustery night.

Now, Susan had been looking forward to Kenai clam chowder ever since we learned Ninilchik is a huge clamming area (from Janet and Karl while we were still in Colorado). Imagine her delight to find a small seafood place just a ways up the road from the Salty Dog. And still open! Let’s just say it was the clam chowder of dreams and the halibut cesar was even better than it sounded J We were mistaken for Alaskans by our waitress, which was funny, but in a way understandable. We would fit in here. After completely enjoying our meal and the view of the waves crashing on the shore below, we headed out to find our spot for the night.

There really was not any place to camp exactly, since everyone had closed for the season. The spit is, as it sounds, just a narrow strip of sand and rock. Everything is completely exposed, so when we decided to park in one of the closed camps we realized we could be awakened at any point by an unhappy someone there to boot us out. But we figured the risk was worth it to stay on this famed peninsula.

So we pulled into a sandy spot in one of the smaller campgrounds, Jim cautious not to send Susan into flashbacks of the narrowly diverted disaster of a couple days prior. The wind was wild, pushing nice size waves against the breaker rocks just below the site and it was ROCKING Thumper. Jim oriented the trailer to minimize the surface area getting hit directly, but that really didn’t change the experience of the wind moving our 2,200lb trailer like a branch on a tree. We felt as much as watched for a while as nature showed her stuff. After a time we turned to writing and downloading photos, still there was no sign of things dying down. If anything by bedtime it was howling louder than ever. I guess you would have to call it a restless night but something about it, cradled there in our cozy nest, was comforting. It was awesome, in the truest sense of the word.

Seward to Ninilchik

We head out of Seward totally understanding why Leeann had decided to move here and spend a couple years living here. It is really a quiet little town with an influx of tourists in the summer but with a true local community at its center. It’s a working town not completely based on tourism. We really enjoy the pace and atmosphere here and, once again, think how easy it would be to hang out here a bit longer. Alas, we head north out of town and stop by The Pit Bar one more time to see Shelly. We ask for her at the bar but they haven’t heard from her since she left for the football game. They don’t seem to worried. They just figure she had a REALLY good time and will come back when she is ready. We get on the road and start retracing our tracks north (once again… the road goes in and stops so we have to go out the same way) and head North. It is already early evening when we leave and Susan has scoped a campground not far out of town where we can get a shower and do laundry. This has become a pattern for us here… camp in the bush for free most of the time but then find a pay-to-stay campground where we can get an internet connection, a real shower and reload on clean clothes. It is great being so self-contained where we can stop anywhere and have full power (12v DC & 120v AC) as well as hot water, shower and toilette all in our little Thumper. Our destination is Bear Creek, which is still open and will wait for our arrival. Susan checks in and finds that the young lady (probably 20 or so) behind the desk is the oldest of 9 children and is in charge of her siblings while the parents are on an anniversary getaway for a couple days. She looks kind of beat but cheerfully gets us set up. We pull into our spot and get comfortable for the night.

The day dawns bright and clear on the Kenai Peninsula, a place that Susan has wanted to visit for many years. It is a mystical landscape, the way the tree covered mountains rise out of the waters and the small streams cut deep canyons in the bedrock and create tall waterfalls almost everywhere you look. The fog hangs low and cuts the mountains in half so the tops just float in mid-air and appear much taller than their listed 3000’.

There is a side road. Really. It is a little by-pass that takes an alternate route for about 17-miles before dumping us back on the original road. There was a trail down to a lake that Susan read about was about half-way along the road so off we went ready to take a hike. The trail takes us through the fairly dense woods, across a slope where a fire had burnt years ago and down towards the lake. We met a family that was hiking out and they let us know that there were a lot of bear markings on the trail ahead. We thanked them for the info and continued onto the lake. It wasn't long till we began to see random piles of berry-mush in the trail which is winding it's way towards the lake. The area is pretty wide open due to the fire so we feel comfortable continuing our hike as we could see quite a ways all around. We made it to the lake and began waking along the bank and the number of berry-mush piles grew quite a bit and in both quantity and freshness.

These bears really need to add something else to their diet... seriously. There are rotting salmon and fresh bear tracks all along the beach and Jim is getting to that place of really feeling that we were being watched. The crazy thing about our walk there is that despite the distractions of keeping an eye out for a bear, Susan looks down and finds these rocks all painted up just lying in the beach... one is painted up with a native bear design and another had the word "Love" painted on it. Such a random find on this beach full of rocks. Susan thanked whoever left these for us and takes them with us as we make our return trip back to Thumper. We never do see the bear that was keeping an eye on us, but we sure know he is close by the whole time.

We don’t think we will make it the whole way to Homer today. When it comes to driving, we have been on the pattern of finding a place to camp somewhere around late afternoon. Jim doesn’t really like the idea of driving at night and with Susan looking (and hoping) to encounter a Moose he doesn’t want to chance it. We have really been enjoying finding a spot and getting settled and then going out on a little walk to stretch our legs and explore the area. Tonight is no different as Susan has done her research and found us what sounds like a great little campground on the Cook Inlet. We drive into the campground to find our spot but we aren’t too impressed with the campsites there. There is a road that goes down towards the beach and turn down that way to see what we find. We discover that the road leads us straight to the water… like right out to the beach. The Inlet is there in front of us and across the miles of water is Mount Redoubt, which is an active volcano and has recently put on a pretty good show. In fact, from this point, we can see 4 active volcanoes along the opposite coastline… quite an impressive sight. We talk to a couple who have been camping out on the beach all summer and they tell us that we can camp anywhere on the beach and point out some good spots. We talk a bit about it and decide to head out on the beach to find a spot.

The “beach” is not like a typical beach where it is all sandy. It is probably 100’ wide at low-tide, with the first 30’ or so made up of small, flat, round stones. This is followed by a 30’ band of mostly sand and then it turns back to the stone down to the waters’ edge. Fishman set up camps out on the beach every year during the fishing season pulling out trailers and boats. It sounds just fine for driving out in a pickup. We turn Thumper towards the beach and head on out to find our spot about a mile up the shore. We didn’t get very far before we found that the beach isn’t really suitable for driving a 9000# camper on and is more sucking us in than holding us up. Jim keeps trying different parts of the beach, from the dryer areas to the wetter, and finds that none of it is good for driving and decides to turn around and get back to the road.

Ya know that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize you might be getting into a bad situation but already have gone too far to just call it off and have to keep going forward in hopes of getting out of it all without having to call your insurance agent and report some “minor water damage”? Well… let’s just say we were getting to that point. With some effort, Jim gets turned around and heads back towards the exit. We are just getting to that point of “Whew! That was close!” and are turning towards the road when all forward momentum stops and we start sinking into the sand. At this point, Jim thinks that Susan should go out and take some pictures of the event but Susan is battling that sick feeling you get when things just don’t look good at all and you might just end up on the evening news in the “Stupid Things Tourists Do” segment. Jim keeps trying different angles and techniques at getting us back onto solid ground but all attempts end up the same way… tires turning forward but Thumper just digging deeper into the beach. We try 4 or 5 different exit strategies when our camper friend comes over and explains to us how the fishermen get out. “They just back up onto the semi-solid part by the water and get a running start at it”. Ok… let’s try that and see what happens. We back up as far as we can and our friend stands up on solid ground and directs us. Jim gets Thumper moving parallel to the water along the beach and then turns towards the road where we are being directed. Thumper slows in the sand but keeps moving this time. Our camper's female companion, who is sitting in her chair reading a book, pumps her fist and cheers us on as we creep towards the road surface. Susan is still fighting that sicky feeling of seeing Thumper half submerged on the beach as we reach the road and get traction enough to pull us out of the sand. We never do stop to thank our cheerleaders for their help in extracting us off the beach and don’t stop moving until we hit the stop sign at the main road.

We drive south towards the small town of Ninilchik (ni-NIL-chik) to check out an official state campground that is, reportedly, situated on solid ground. We are both still coming down off our adrenaline high as we turned down a road that takes us to the old Russian Orthodox church overlooking the the water. This is a nice diversion from our recent experience and we get out to explore this beautiful church set on top of the hill. There is a trail leading from the church down the hill to the small, simple fishing village. It is a serene setting with the sun getting low and water and mountains in the background. We take a walk around the grounds before heading down to the campground where we hope to kick back and have an adult beverage celebrating our escape from the YouTube archives.

There isn’t too much to see at the end of the road in Ninilchik. It ends up that the campground is pretty much shut down but the camp host, Rick, was still there and finishing up cleaning up the area. Susan asks him if he had one more night in him and he responds, “I’m done here, you can stay all winter if you want.”

We talk to Rick for a while and learn the story of how he ended up as the camp host here 14 years ago. Seems he got kicked off of one beach after spending a month or so there and he moved to this beach. The ranger who kicked him off the first beach found him camped here where he was cleaning up the trash from folks partying on the beach during the past winter. She decided he wasn’t a bad guy and offered him the camp-host position. After hearing the duties expected of him, he accepted and has been spending the summers here ever since. “This is my front yard all summer” he said as he pointed out over the water. Rick has a pretty good life here and then he heads south to Montana to snowboard all winter. Susan and Jim try to figure out if they can get their name on the list to be the next camp-hosts when Rick decided to call it good.

Jim gets a fire going and Susan cooks up her extra-special, “best-fish-on-the-planet”, “Christmas Scampi” Halibut-instead-of-Scallops wonder dish for dinner. Someone up on the hill behind our camp whistled at us. Jim waved at them and we continued tasks at hand but soon we had visitors. Marie and Philip walked down the beach towards our camp. They are the couple that we saw at the camp in Seward and we stopped and talked to on the trail up on Exit Glacier. They recognized Thumper from their camp up on the ridge and decided to come down and say Hi. We invited them to share our camp and fire so off they went to move their camp down to ours. We all spend the evening out on the beach around the fire and getting to know each other.

Turns out, Marie and Philip are from Switzerland, probably around 30 and are on an 8-month journey around the world. They flew into Northern California and bought an older VW bus to drive around on the U.S. leg of their trip. They made it as far as Fort Nelson in Yukon, Canada when it started giving them trouble and now they are waking up each day wondering if it will start. “The engine is broken” is what the mechanic told them. It needed to be replaced, but they couldn’t afford that, so they decided to just keep going until they can’t anymore. We have a great night of talking and sharing and trying to keep warm around our fire before calling it a night and heading to bed.

We wake up to a cold morning and invite our new friends over for breakfast, coffee and a warm place to start the day. They are taking it as it comes, but Marie is starting to find the autumn temperatures a bit hard to live with in the bus. And now they are headed to Denali, in hopes of seeing the mountain before winter sets in there. Hmmmm, it's going to be waaaaayyyy colder up there. Thanks to Rick, we've inherited a pile of good, dry wood so we help them load it up in the van & give Marie a pair of extra thick wool socks. The night before we had taught them about heating rocks on the fire to warm their sleeping bags. So wishing them luck we send them on their way and head out to find Homer.