Get to the Last Frontier!

Quick Tips:

Best Way To Get Around:

Whittier is beautiful in winter. A harbor village on the other side of the mountains from Hwy 1. A cruise ship port in summer. Darn quiet in the winter. Lots of folks cross-country skiing. I prefer walking/hiking. Bear and moose sightings. Be wise! Services are limited. Stay out of the freight yards--walking there is a federal offense. Do not attempt to walk back through the tunnels! High risk of avalanches in the mountains. This isn't Palm Springs!

Update: The Adventure. Two of us set out on a bright winter day to see the other side of the mountain. Two middle-aged women. Dare I say? Both experienced winter hikers, but when we found outselves in over 14 feet of snow, we realized we had a serious think coming. We arrived in Whittier via the train, which is slow and uncomfortable during the snow season. Our view of the magnificent Prince William Sound was frosted on all sides by millions of pounds of cold, white snow and blue ice.

We began our walk by committing a federal crime as we walked along the tracks through the train yard. Our destination somewhere ahead, an old cafe/bowling alley. A bit of nattering between us. We were on the wrong side of a long, long train. My dear hiking buddy Anne led the way as we climbed up into and through the cab of a locomotive. A second crime, I'm sure. We left the train and pushed on through the deep snow to the cafe. Coffee and candy bars. Suddenly a new thought. We were about to miss the return train back out to the highway where we'd left our Subaru.

We moved as quickly as one can when in such deep snow and made it back to the train just as it was pulling out of the station. A missed train meant a 2-day wait in Whittier. We would have had to knock on doors until we found someone willing to take us in. Don't do what I did! We threw both experience and common sense to the winds. It was very hard going in all that snow. Was it dangerous? Yes! Was it stupid? Incredibly! Was it an Alaskan thing to do? Certainly!

In the non-summer months it is best to pile on layers of clothing with particular care given to what you wear on your head, hands and feet. Jeans, sweaters, sweatshirts, turtleneck shirts, tights, long underwear etc.

In summer jeans, short pants (rarely) tee shirts and sneakers go a long way. I advise people who travel to Alaska to save room in their baggage for tee and sweat shirts bought along the way. They make great souvenirs and you can get some use out of them in Alaska.

For footwear, we used to wear big, heavy hiking books for hiking and serious walking but have long since given them up. In summer I prefer sneakers. In winter footwear sometimes called 'snow trackers'.

For outerwear, I prefer to wear a fleece vest as long as possible before it becomes absolutely necessary to put on a jacket. I like the freedom a fleece vest gives and they can be very warm if you shop carefully.

I can't wear wool socks. My feet get too dry; so I stick to manmade fibers.

I like to wear a polar freece hat also. The best polar fleece is made by Maulden Mills in the US. I crochet a lot of wool hats and sometimes wear one of those.

For gloves I prefer polar fleece to wool for the same (dryness) problems mentioned in 'socks'.

Many people walked past us in the parking lot as we worked with very cold hands to tape the window back into the truck. That's not to say a request for help would have been denied, but Alaska women are known to be very independent. A man might get his head bitten off for offering a hand!

A clean window might have been easier to work with, but the old blue Dodge truck hadn't seen a wash in years. Filling up the dual gas tanks cost $60 back then. A ton of money! Changing a tire could be a nightmare and there were six of them! A giant Tonka toy but very reliable.

Summer tourists know the Parks Highway as a paved route to Denali Park and Fairbanks. Wide enough but often crowded with traffic. Off season, the crowd long gone, you can drive for a long time before seeing a light in a store or a passing truck. Lucky for us the Road House was open. An hour of fiddling and we packed up to continue on our way to meet our husbands and son Brian at the end of a rafting trip on the Talkeetna River. Rafting trip! Why? Their theory was that it was a good time to make one last trip of the year before winter set in hard. The mosquitoes were dead and the bears should all be denned up. Wives that we are the idea that they might fall into the river and freeze to death had passed our minds. The guys were wearing heavy wet suits and boots such as divers wear absolutely promised to float. They had two survival packs, food, a good tent and a lot of vodka. We called their raft Queen Mary. After the drowning death of my cousin on a rafting trip in British Columbia the guys had installed a rowing frame. A bush pilot flew them out to start their trip at a lake nearly covered with trumpeter swans. A very noisy night with little sleep before they began rafting.

We worried and felt stiff as frozen fish when we arrived at the planned pickup point, under a bridge on the Parks Highway. We pulled the truck off the road and set up to watch the river, much higher and wilder than we'd expected. Our hearts felt cold dread when we saw the Talkeetna rescue 'copter head upriver. We made a lunch out of candy bars and finished the coffee. Neither of us said a word for hours.

The men arrived a many hours late, tired and cold and stinking from days spent in the wet suits. Kiss me! Yes as we were so glad to see them again and alive. We helped haul the soggy raft and gear out of the river and loaded it into the truck bed that had 'caught' our rear window. The husbands weren't the least concerned about the quality of our repair, and we drove the 200 miles or so back down to home in the Chugach mountains above Anchorage to put the guys in hot showers as we made a big, hot dinner.

That truck rolled another 20,000 miles before being sold with the window still duct-taped in. Obviously I recommend having a roll of duct tape at hand if you're going to out driving around Alaska. That and a good supply of Snickers bars is sure a good idea also.

For those of you who wonder about the validity of my 'duct-taped window' and '14 1/2 feet of snow' stories about Alaska, I have a witness/reference who lives out in the Chugach Mountains southeast of Anchorage. She knows an awful lot about Alaska as she's been there since before the Big State got famous and important. Her son Brian is one of the best known wilderness guides in Alaska. (E-mail me if you want his web site address.) I've known that fella since I could carry him around. Now he can carry me, my husband and our dog. He's grown up to be a fine fella, and we're very proud of him!