This time though, it seemed to be the same diverse crowd that usually traveled to this still remote area; wilderness buffs, a few executives, kids, and those just seeking great fishing holes and an escape from the mundane routine of life. People waiting for the thrill of hours battling and reeling in fish that were often times larger than themselves and hunting game that any sports enthusiast would envy. Trophy animals are the norm and not the exception. Alaska is all about a life that is bigger than yourself. Even if you don't relish the thought of bagging these mighty animals you will want to observe them from your car along with endangered species and creatures that are rare and sometimes inhibited. Animals you probably won't see anywhere else. They are native to the North Country. The animals that inhabit this vast expanse are at home and not particularly bothered by the people who come to watch them. They can be quite shy. Don't disrupt their native habitats; they may not have the social graces to make you feel welcome!
This time my flight to Alaska was four hours long with no stop overs. Even with the modern advances in technology; television shows, computers and movies as opposed to foreign radio stations speaking a language most on the plane didn't understand, the time seemed to drag. There were no playing cards distributed and even the on board popular magazines seem to have gone by the wayside. When we were young we used to play cards (provided by the airline) and impose on the Flight Attendants to help distribute drinks and clean up trash, all just to make the time pass. Imagine paying for the privilege of picking up trash! But a seed was planted that would flourish into a full blown career as a Flight Attendant later in my life. Was it the job or the Alaska experience that fostered such a dream?
I was to returning to the dreamland of my youth; looking for an experience that few ever achieve. It's a world of its own. If you could put a price on memories, I'd be a millionaire. Seeking to return to my childhood I embarked on a journey back to events so profound it ingrained into my being moments that cannot be diminished with time. Is a matter of fact they expand with the passage of time. I am not sure the real experience can even touch what my mind has envisioned took place in my past.
I was coming home. Upon our arrival the first night we were surrounded with stores, hotels and airports that certainly did not resemble the 1969 experience. But there was an essence that was profoundly familiar. Something had not changed. I could feel it.
As a child I remembered sighting moose on a regular basis. Squirrels in the back yard would have been family pets had my pet poodle not chased them incessantly every morning on her trip outside. They would sit up in the trees and chirp down at her while mocking her efforts to climb the tree and capture them.
Hunting licenses were not for single animals but rather you purchased one license for moose, bear, dall sheep and unlimited fish. Fishing on the Kenai river was simple; you just went when you wanted and to your favorite hole. None of the land was privately owned and anyone looking for a morning of excitement was welcome, if you could endure the giant mosquitoes that vied for your hole.
Weekend trips around the peninsula provided more experiences in a small radius than most have in a whole state. The Kenai River was the Salmon capital of the area and Russian culture was present at every turn. Small Russian Orthodox churches were plentiful. Deciphering road signs that were engraved with the native language were fun to try and transcribe. Crabbing on the “Spit” down in Homer, only an hour's drive away, was only half the fun. The other half was riding home with live crabs stored in a large tub of water in the back of our station wagon.
Short cruises out of Seward and Whittier into bays that are filled with marine life and glaciers are a rich adventure. Monumental glaciers, calving into the bay are quite a site. It is Sea World in the wild with marine life and feathery friends that only inhabit these shores.
After spending the night in Anchorage we arose early and inadvertently took a tour of downtown Anchorage. We were seeking a homestyle breakfast complete with native Alaskan sourdough. None of the places we found were touting this specialty so we finally conceded and went to a restaurant with an Alaskan motif - Gwendies. After surveying the menu for sourdough pancakes and only finding one item unique to the state, reindeer sausage, we waited for the waitress to come and place our order. I inquired if they had sourdough, instead of regular pancakes and sure enough they did! Maybe it's just a “given” in this part of the world. Anywhere else would specify this gold panner's delight. Here it seems to be just understood that you can have it.
