Getting to Anchorage, at last!

Hello,

Happy holidays to everyone! I left off last week with our trip into Tok, Alaska. We stayed at a rather comfortable place with a restaurant and bar named Fast Eddy’s. The room by comparison to the shoe box in Haines Junction, Yukon was palatial and luxurious. We slept well, the dog slept well and we were able to get a reasonable start in the morning, or so we thought, until a portly single woman traveling the Al-Can to Virginia alone struck up a conversation about the dog. Zev tends to inspire random doggy related conversations wherever he goes and in some cases, like this one, unwelcome conversations. It’s not that the woman was rude or mean or even smelled bad, it was only that it was 10 below zero with a moderate wind and idle outdoor conversation seemed painful at best since my hair was still wet from the shower and freezing rapidly into white icicles. I tried to politely exit the conversation about how great big dogs are, but then innocently, my father stepped outside and asked the unfortunate questions about where she was traveling to. She rambled on about how she was excited to travel the lone Al-Can highway in winter, across over 5,000 miles of rugged and unforgiving terrain to be with her family for Thanksgiving. Her dog (a Maltese if I remember) was previously shipped to Virginia and was anxiously awaiting her arrival. With that, our now somewhat later start began as the snow started to fly.

We discovered that our two way radios had succumb to the cold overnight, and refused to function, so we started out of Tok in a blinding snow storm with no real way to communicate. About 12 miles outside of Tok the snow was falling so hard that the road in front the U-haul (driven by my father), had all but disappeared and even more frightening, the 20 yard space of road between my car and the U-haul was disappearing along with the U-haul. At times, I flashed my lights and honked the horn to get my father’s attention, but failed. After we both slowed to a snails pace, our radios finally perked up, warmed only from the heat of the car. I radioed my father to get his opinion on the driving conditions. We both agreed that if things did not clear up soon, VERY SOON, that we would turn back to Tok, wait for the snow plow and then travel behind the snow plow. The families we had started traveling with had decided to make a break for Anchorage the night before in Haines Junction, but we were tired and in need of food, so we decided to part ways prior to heading for Tok.

The roads did clear somewhat, and we made it to Glenallen, Alaska around lunch time. We stopped to fill up with gas and scrape the icky snow off of the back of the U-haul in a vain attempt to make it more visible on the road. Inside the small gas station, we were offered free coffee by a young man who seemed painfully lonely and in dire need of conversation. He nearly followed me into the bathroom chattering on about how his gas was cheaper than the other station in town, and how the elderly gentleman at the gas pump was a local native who just turned 83, but could take down a moose single handed or something like that. I tried to be polite and my father patiently smiled until we were ready to go. I gulped my coffee, thanked him and motioned to my father that it was time to go. The kid then followed us out the car, wearing only a t-shirt, to continue his rambling. All I could think was that this poor soul was willing to risk frost bite to converse with another human being! Yikes! Glenallen is one of the colder spots in Alaska with the day time highs this time of year not even making it out of the negative teens, and the night time lows are in the negative 20’s. Sunshine aside, it was down right cold, and most certainly NOT t-shirt weather. I felt compelled to drive away quickly just to force him back inside so he didn't freeze right there on the spot.

Further on down the road, we poked along toward Palmer only stopping once or twice to look at the Matanuska Glacier, and for a migrating heard of Caribou crossing the highway near Hatcher Pass. Oddly, a few were all too happy to pose for us momentarily but we weren’t fast enough to click any pictures. We also pulled off to take pictures of one of the peaks at Wrangle St. Elias Park that stood over the valley like a giant white snow-cone, but the wind was howling and I know that it was well below zero, so I urged my father to hurry up and take the picture. The wind stung any exposed skin (noses & cheeks) like thousands of tiny razors. Standing in the bright sunshine reminded me that I could get frost bite and sun burn all at once!

When we got back on the road, we noticed that the winds and freezing temperatures had lifted tiny crystals of ice and snow into the air, and it appeared as though we were driving into an enchanted forest. The ice crystals seemed to dance through the air picking up small doses of sunshine and reflecting them around like little mirrors. My words are really inadequate to describe how incredible and surreal seeing all of this was to me. I’ve never seen anything like that before and even my father was mesmerized by these lilting, microscopic ice crystals. Presumably, those were the “razor” like stingers that the wind was carrying to our exposed skin. We both found it difficult to concentrate on the road and swerved a few times from just not paying attention.

Coming into Palmer, 38 miles North of Anchorage, we knew we were on the home stretch. I called Chris to let him know where we were, and got directions to our apartment. Then, out of nowhere, a dense icy fog shrouded the valley and stayed with us until we were just entering Anchorage. I somehow managed to lose my father temporarily in traffic as we came into our neighborhood, and we yammered back and forth over the radios on how to get back on track. A few minutes later, just as the sun was setting (at 4:30), we pulled into the parking lot at the Hillside Chalet (note: the description of "Bavarian Style Living in the Heart of Anchorage" is a bold faced lie!).

More to come soon- eat lots, Happy Thanksgiving, stay warm, and have a great weekend!

Vered
…and Zev too.