It was dusk when we arrived to our cabin in Trapper Creek, and the resident moose was part of the welcoming committee as we headed down the road to the Northland Inn. When I opened my car door to go in search of the innkeeper, a dog’s head lunged into the car from out of nowhere…it was like being in a Disney movie…I thought it was going to talk, or maybe even sing!
This was the perfectly peaceful place to spend our last evening in Alaska, especially after the whirlwind our trip had been. After settling in, we re-packed our bags for airline travel, sorted our souvenirs and recapped our recent fun memories. We prepared an enormous box to be shipped home and we had a “family meeting”...the kind we have when something out of the ordinary is going to happen...about my big decision.
For the entirety of the trip the standing question to me from all sources was, “So are you going to Nome?” I would hem and haw at the prospect of staying behind in Alaska and seeing the Iditarod finish, and John (who has a great respect for unique opportunities and a great respect for my individuality) would interject, “Yes, she is – she just hasn’t told me yet.”
Even with the encouragement of John and Rhiannon, and lots of arm-twisting from the company we were keeping, it was not an easy decision to make. I do have responsibilities, starting with being an “at HOME” mom. And Nome isn’t exactly a metropolis…getting there and finding a safe place to stay could be impossible. It is far out on a peninsula in the frozen Bering Sea and the only way in/out during the winter is by plane or Iditarod Trail! What’s a girl to do?? No-brainer…I cancelled my flight to NJ.
Early the next morning our last hoorah was a 20 mile snow machine ride on trails carved into deep snow that weaved through evergreen & birch forests and over frozen lakes and bogs. Beautiful, fun, peaceful…all of the above and then some!
Later as reality hit and we were straggling and loading our baggage, we had the cabin door propped open. The dog appeared again…it walked right into our room promptly at 11:15 and we are all pretty sure that we heard it say, “This is your friendly reminder that check-out time is 11:00 a.m.”
Friday, March 13, 2009
NORTHERN EXPOSURE
If you read Rhiannon’s first blog post, you might recall that she outted my snobby opinion of west coast attempts at decent pizza. The joke’s on me.
For our last night in Alaska, we had arranged to switch gears from Iditarod mode and hit the road heading north in hopes of seeing Denali (aka Mt. McKinley), Talkeetna, and Trapper Creek, where we’d spend the last night of our family vacation re-grouping in a cabin. It was snowing as we drove and the cloud cover usurped the amazing view of the mountain that was so close, yet totally out of sight. Still, it was a beautiful drive amid the snow-covered evergreens and curious ravens (the contrast of solid black ravens in the pure white snow is one of my favorite visuals on this trip!).
We arrived to Talkeetna and it seemed like a snowed-in ghost town. I never saw snow piled so high in front of buildings. There were some signs of life though, and in fact several businesses were open, but it was difficult to even distinguish a window from a doorway because only the tops were visible! Naturally, it was Rhiannon who spotted a purple sign reading “Mountain High Pizza Pie”…and I said, “No” before she even asked the question. But we soon realized that our options were limited and our tummies were empty, so I begrudgingly went along with the pit-stop plan.
Things were looking up immediately! The place was surprisingly active, I could spread out with my lap-top and get WiFi, my favorite west coast beer was on tap, Little Feat was playing in the background and for the first time on my trip I saw vegetarian options on a menu!! I finally found the crunchy side of Alaska!!
Two hours later I was still at Mountain High Pizza Pie and feeling like one of the regulars. After enjoying a delicious pizza with all (and only) appropriate topping options, I continued to catch-up on writing while John had in-depth conversations with several locals, including a Denali National Park Ranger who was just off-duty. Meanwhile, Rhiannon was very happy to meet a family with some children and a dog outside, and I think she had two ice cream cones for herself while I was pre-occupied. I still can not get confirmation on this, and since John is covering for her, he must have had at least two also. Fact: Alaskans eat more ice cream in the winter than in the summer. Apparently you CAN sell ice to the Eskimos!
For our last night in Alaska, we had arranged to switch gears from Iditarod mode and hit the road heading north in hopes of seeing Denali (aka Mt. McKinley), Talkeetna, and Trapper Creek, where we’d spend the last night of our family vacation re-grouping in a cabin. It was snowing as we drove and the cloud cover usurped the amazing view of the mountain that was so close, yet totally out of sight. Still, it was a beautiful drive amid the snow-covered evergreens and curious ravens (the contrast of solid black ravens in the pure white snow is one of my favorite visuals on this trip!).
We arrived to Talkeetna and it seemed like a snowed-in ghost town. I never saw snow piled so high in front of buildings. There were some signs of life though, and in fact several businesses were open, but it was difficult to even distinguish a window from a doorway because only the tops were visible! Naturally, it was Rhiannon who spotted a purple sign reading “Mountain High Pizza Pie”…and I said, “No” before she even asked the question. But we soon realized that our options were limited and our tummies were empty, so I begrudgingly went along with the pit-stop plan.
Things were looking up immediately! The place was surprisingly active, I could spread out with my lap-top and get WiFi, my favorite west coast beer was on tap, Little Feat was playing in the background and for the first time on my trip I saw vegetarian options on a menu!! I finally found the crunchy side of Alaska!!
Two hours later I was still at Mountain High Pizza Pie and feeling like one of the regulars. After enjoying a delicious pizza with all (and only) appropriate topping options, I continued to catch-up on writing while John had in-depth conversations with several locals, including a Denali National Park Ranger who was just off-duty. Meanwhile, Rhiannon was very happy to meet a family with some children and a dog outside, and I think she had two ice cream cones for herself while I was pre-occupied. I still can not get confirmation on this, and since John is covering for her, he must have had at least two also. Fact: Alaskans eat more ice cream in the winter than in the summer. Apparently you CAN sell ice to the Eskimos!
DOES THIS MEAN WE HAVE “ADMINISTRATIVE EXPERIENCE”?
After the Iditarod re-start we explored nearby - and now somewhat famous - Wasilla, Alaska. We spent our night there in a hotel overlooking the beautifully frozen Lake Lucille. As we searched for a place to have dinner, let's just say we got the lay of that land very quickly.
The highlight for me was visiting The Iditarod Headquarters which also serves as a museum to the race and the history behind the race (the 1925 serum run to Nome via a dogsled relay to thwart a diphtheria epidemic).
If you’ve ever seen, sat or played on the statue of the dog in Central Park…here’s the connection: That is a statue of Balto who was the lead sled dog when the serum arrived safely to Nome against all odds. He was hailed as a hero everywhere. The unsung hero was Togo who did most of the work on the last leg of that relay, but went missing and was thought to be dead. Balto took his place in the lead position on the sled for its critical arrival to Nome, and thus got all the glory.
NYC has the Balto statue…but Wasilla has Togo. That’s right…Togo eventually showed-up in Nome surprising everyone, and now he is stuffed, posed in a glass box, and gazing towards Russia in perpetuity.
The highlight for me was visiting The Iditarod Headquarters which also serves as a museum to the race and the history behind the race (the 1925 serum run to Nome via a dogsled relay to thwart a diphtheria epidemic).
If you’ve ever seen, sat or played on the statue of the dog in Central Park…here’s the connection: That is a statue of Balto who was the lead sled dog when the serum arrived safely to Nome against all odds. He was hailed as a hero everywhere. The unsung hero was Togo who did most of the work on the last leg of that relay, but went missing and was thought to be dead. Balto took his place in the lead position on the sled for its critical arrival to Nome, and thus got all the glory.
NYC has the Balto statue…but Wasilla has Togo. That’s right…Togo eventually showed-up in Nome surprising everyone, and now he is stuffed, posed in a glass box, and gazing towards Russia in perpetuity.
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