http://www.mahaysriverboat.com/
907/736-2210
I wanted to go "flightseeing" around Mt. McKinley and land on a glacier. But, as is often the case, we were socked in due to the weather and resultant low visibility. As I considered my options for the day, one caught my eye: a 4-hour jet boat safari into a canyon on Class III rapids. It sounded interesting and like a good way to see more of the area’s backcountry while still making my afternoon train. The price of $120 (including lunch) seemed high, but it was half of what I was going to spend flightseeing.
The boats are sturdy aluminum flat-bottom, glass-enclosed jet boats capable of operating in very shallow draft areas where traditional boats can’t. The high velocity, constantly shifting, shallow glacial fed rivers that bisect this country are navigable only by this sort of craft. We sped through the water dodging piles of glacial gravel, trees, and other woody debris. The boats sliced through mild rapids splashing the glass enclosure around us. This type of boat is literally the only way to get to some of the remote fishing camps or cabins along these rivers in the summer. In winter, these waterways freeze solid and can be driven on by sled (snow mobile), ATV, or even heavy construction equipment. We passed a huge excavator that had been driven there from town over miles of ice. The owner of the home site there was preparing his lot and probably a couple for neighbors over the summer. He would drive it back to town when the river froze again this winter.
There was an older couple from Wisconsin on the boat. The man mumbled and sandwiched his words together illegibly. His wife was a bit heavy and uttered a high-pitched "ooohh" every time something mildly exciting occurred. We pulled to the bank and went ashore to see a real trapper’s cabin built by the tour company’s owner back when he was a homesteader running a trap line. As we disembarked, the lady said, "Ooohh, I’m not so sure about this!" "I’m not an outdooorzee person." With a little extra encouragement from Kelly, our guide, she braved it anyway.
Come to find out, Kelly is from WV, as am I. She comes from a fairly well-off family. Upon graduation from a private college, she and her friend loaded a minivan and drove cross-country then to Alaska. Kelly never left. Now she dates the boat tour owner’s son and lives in a 10x12 cabin with no water or electricity and just exudes happiness. Kelly was extremely knowledgeable about the local flora, fauna, and folklore. She explained a lot, from how great dried spring moose droppings are for starting fires to how the Native Athabascans were able to live in three-sided shelters in the extreme cold and deep snow that befalls this area. All the while, she packed a 12-gage bear gun for our protection. Later, she jumped into the frigid water up to her thighs in order to help tie off the boat.
Aaron, our boat pilot, was also an interesting character with his eccentrically bushy brown beard. He is a native of Talkeetna. Seasonally, he guides big game hunts for an outfitter on Kodiak Island. He exhibited a level of calm, agreeable patience in every situation that was made possible, I’m sure, by growing up here. Aaron married the girl who won him in the annual bachelor auction a couple of years back (see my Talkeetna overview). He knew her beforehand, though, so it’s not as quirky as it may sound. After work, Aaron was going fishing. He heard that a few of the kings may have already made their way this far inland, and he was going to his secret spot to find out. Even though, it was probably too early for the kings to be in, he and his wife were out of salmon and she was pressuring him to bring some home.
Neither she nor Kelly are in the "Women of Talkeetna" calendar. They both were pressured to be in it but were not sure how the final product would look and didn’t particularly want to be associated with some of the "ladies" who were featured therein. I said, "I think I met some of those ladies you are talking about last night." "You went to the Tee Pee didn’t you" Aaron said. "It’s really dark in there, isn’t it" said Kelly. We talked about my going on to Seward in a few days and how much they liked the Keni Peninsula, except for Whittier. Aaron said "You have to go through a long tunnel to get there." "Everyone lives in the same building, and they get practically no sunlight." From what I gather, even Talkeetnans think that people from Whittier are weird.
Aaron pushed the powerful boat through the raging water until we reached the pinnacle of our trip near a large freshwater inflow named Disappointment Creek. A group of miners coined the name when they found no gold there. Mr. Mahay (owner) is the only one to have taken a boat much farther past here. Apparently it gets very choppy and dangerous beyond this point. After stretching our legs on a gravel bar, we headed back to the dock, this time with the flow of water. Overall, it was a great day filled with adventure, insight, and good company.