Alaska - Part XIII

[leftyjew]

I kinda want to get done with all of this, but Friday and Shabbas will probably take at least two entries each. Anyway, here's...

Thursday - Denali State Park

After we left Talkeetna, city of earthen roads, we drove on to Denali State Park. "Denali" is the Athabascan/Tanaina name for Mount McKinley and his wife, Mount Foraker, is called "Menlale". Alaskans and climbers all tend to use the name "Denali" for both the park and the larger mountain, so I'm going to use that. If you're a fan of President McKinley and want something named after him, maybe we can call Cuba or Luzon "McKinley Island" (While we're at it, we can name Puerto Rico "Foraker Island". Apparently in order to get a great Alaskan mountain named after you, you need to be a turn-of-the-century Republican from Ohio involved legistating the Spanish-American War. Or finance a trip to climb Denali.)

Anyway, nomenclature covered (rather caustically, too!) I can continue with the story.

We drive a ways along Parks Highway, and eventually see a big sign. Welcome to Denali State Park! No gate or entrance fee or anything. Very nice. We start looking for our site - Beyers Lake. We pass several places that seem campgroundy and eventually stop at a lodge with a storefront. I go in to ask if we've gone too far and figuring it would take a minute, I ask arctic_alpine to wait in the car. Big mistake. This was my closest encounter with real bush Alaskans. They were incredibly deserving of the redneck title. The husband had a white mullet and was eating a ham and mayo sandwich while sitting at the counter. The wife was a bit plump and kept pretty quiet except when spoken to. They had run this shop for 25 years. Yes, that's nearly my entire life. The woman was born and raised in the area (I assume that means within a few miles), and the man is originally from... somewhere else. Maybe even as far as Fairbanks, but I don't think so. They had so much to say, and I learned quite a bit. "Brown lie down, black fight back." "Avoid Troublesome Creek this time of year - it's called troublesome for a reason. The bears are gonna make sure you don't get their salmon." "This here is the best and prettiest trails in the state. Denali National Park?! This guy wants to go to Disney Land! They shove you on a crowded bus and it's as bad as anything you get in the Lower 48. With all the tourists, you may as well be in Yellowstone!" and so on. The conversation went on for quite some time, and I got a great map of the trails from them. They were good people - they weren't really trying to push me to buy anything and gave me tons of talk, advice, and information. I wish arctic_alpine had come in so she could meet them. Oh, and also, they had power kayaks. Those seemed like fun, but were pretty expensive to rent.

We keep heading the way we're going and eventually we get to the Denali part of the park. There's a gorgeous overlook with amazing views of the mountains. Denali is almost always covered in clouds. It's one of the stormiest mountains in the world, and climbers will often wait at high camp for more than a week just to wait for the weather to clear. Many who make it to high camp turn back from the wait. Most people who see Denali from the ground cannot see his peak clearly. It's a dangerous, cloudy and stormy mountain. He's also not a graceful mountain. There is no sharp peak - there are actually two summits joined together by a massive grumpy black-rock mountain covered in glacier.

Anyway, we saw a really beautiful view of a really imposing hulk of rock and ice. We read about the race to climb it and the lies involved. We ate some fruit, took photos, got annoyed at tourists and sat around a bit, and then we headed onward. But before we went on, we used the restroom. It was kind of a demarcation of sorts. The restrooms were bear-safe. They had no flush or trash. They were immaculate and the doors swung closed tightly. They had no sinks and no running water. There was potable(?) water from a pump on the other side of the parking lot. It was an interesting way to tell that we were in a park and not a civilization center. We went on.

Past Troublesome Creek (following the advice of the shop owners) and to Beyers Lake (following EVERYONE's advice). We got there, chose a camping site, and parked. This would be my first time camping. I'm still not used to nature being a consumer good, but it's the way the world works. "Nature" is some place you go to "get away". It's a vacation and not an existence on its own. It kind of weirds me out conceptually, but I do like the experience. Anyway, in a place surrounded by other campsites just like ours, some filled with RVs, a few with cars, many empty dirt driveways, we set up camp.