Leaving Valdez...Harder than we'd thought

We woke early on Tuesday morning in hopes of getting a standby spot on the ferry over to Whittier, but alas, even arriving hours before they loaded we were 7^th in line. As the gentleman working the ticket window said, “Not a chance”. Oh well. Plan B, which was hugely appealing due to the extraordinary landscape in which we found ourselves, was to go on a hike then head out to Talkeetna. The fog had lifted while Jim fished the day before and the mountains surrounding this little bay had revealed themselves. OH my! One of the tourist booklets we got somewhere along the way had a title “Valdez…even Mother Nature has favorites” and I have to say they spoke the truth. Snow covered peaks that dropped straight into the sea. No less than 4 glaciers visible right from town. The water here is an unbelievable green-blue and so calm, during our stay, that it mirrored everything.

Sea Otters and Harbor Seals were playing among the boats, catching salmon and generally seeming to have a fine time. Eagles, bald and golden, as well as many other birds seem to love it here as well. The Exxon disaster, which was 20 years ago now, caused a serious backlash against the oil companies. Significant practice improvements and much tighter supervision seem to have really benefitted the area, which is not to say that it’s been a full recovery, but many of the species are thriving again.

So off we went down to the Slough trail, which winds through a forest of elder trees and past two HUGE cottonwoods and out into the wetlands along the sound. Salmon were swimming up the little streams (I mean really little-so shallow their dorsal fins were out of the water much of the time) and many had obviously already laid their eggs and were dead or dying in the gravel. Kind of crazy seeing it all just like they taught us in school! We wandered out to the beach and walked along marveling once again at our luck and at the small rocks (of course) that where everywhere here. So many had been rounded into discs of varying sizes it was amazing. We found a nice spot and settled in to just enjoy it all. Across the bay we watched as the ferry grew kind of big and then very small, making it’s way out to Prince William Sound and beyond. What we knew to be a huge tanker came in, but looked it looked so insignificant against the water and mountains it almost seemed like a toy.

While I collected and sorted rocks, Jim got creative and built a Goldsworthy-style stone egg. It came out great and may still be standing if the tide hasn’t washed it away. While we were both absorbed in our rock-play Jim called to me quietly and pointed up the beach. Moseying along toward us, clearly in no hurry, was a Brown Bear. Jim had the wherewithal to pick up his camera and get a couple shots. I, on the other hand, was running through all the ‘what to do in a bear encounter’ information I had read in the past month. “No running”. That’s good, cause the beach was rocky and I’m sure he was much faster than me. “Try to look big”. OK. I walked slowly next to where Jim was sitting and put my arms up over my head. “Talk firmly and calmly to the bear”. Hmmm, calmly? My heart was pounding so loud I figured he could already hear that, but he was still walking straight for us. “Hello Mr. Bear. Nice to see you….” He swung his head up, seemed to finally recognize we were not a big rock that had mysteriously appeared on his familiar beach and shot off into the brush. Wow. Some sense of relief there, but also a wish that I had waited so we could have checked him out a bit more. It was way beyond cool to see this giant creature in his home, looking for fish or berries or maybe just enjoying the stellar day. We stayed a while longer, kind of hoping he’d appear down along the water somewhere, but I guess we were enough of a surprise to keep him off the beach the rest of the morning. And the salmon were running all over the place, so perhaps he just went for sushi.

Making our way back across the wetlands toward the truck I think we were both feeling the same sense of not wanting to leave. Valdez is an extraordinarily beautiful and special place, among the many we have seen on this journey. We took our time, stopped at the espresso shack and to get some post cards.

We drove slowly out of town listening to their community radio station, entertainingly enough in the middle of their fund drive. Getting back in the car after a photo stop on the edge of the old town site some 3 or 4 miles up the estuary we decided to go back to KCHU and make a donation. After all where would KAFM be if folks just thought about supporting it? The drive back in was breath-taking; the scenery that had been obscured by fog on our first ride in was out in all it’s glory. Made me glad we’d turned around. So did the visit with the nice folks at KCHU. Jim gave them a couple CDs for their collection (Hot Buttered Rum, Big Water and Pimps of Joytime). We got a nice hat for our donation as well as a sense of being part of a cool little community if only for a day. As we headed out the second time, we swung by to get one last espresso from the girl in the hot pink fishnets.