Feeling at Home

So far, we had been spending all of our time on the Alaskan coast. From the Southeast, to Southcentral, Anchorage and the Kenai Peninsula. Now, we were headed to the interior. Our plan for Thursday was to drive North out of Anchorage to the Hatcher Pass area in the Talkeetna Mountains. There was a hike we researched at the West side of Hatcher Pass, called Reed Lakes. From there, we would drive back through Wasilla and then North to the small town of Talkeetna for the night.

We knew that Hatcher Pass would be closed. It’s usually shut down until July 4 weekend because of snow. But the road to the hike was outside the closed area so we were hoping to be able to reach the trailhead. We picked up some lunch about an hour North of Anchorage and then headed to Reed Lakes.

The road into the Hatcher Pass area got increasingly narrow and winding through the mountains. The Chugach Range was behind us toward the coast and we were heading into the Talkeetna Mountains. We made it up to the road turnoff for the trailhead and unfortunately the gate was closed. So we parked and debated our next move. This trail was one that we had been really looking forward to hiking. But we had limited time because we had to make it to our B&B by 5 p.m. for dinner and that was still at two-hour drive away. There wouldn’t be enough time to walk the 2+ miles down the road and then the 8-mile round trip hike, plus the 2+ miles back to the car. Reluctantly, we gave up on Reed Lakes.

Instead we drove up the road to see how far we could get on Hatcher Pass before the snow took over. Not very far. We parked at Independence Mine and reevaluated our day. Dave had noticed a trailhead a little way back down the road, so we went to check it out. When we pulled into the parking lot, we noticed a trail heading up a steep mountain straight up from the road – straight up. We weren’t sure exactly where it went, but decided that no matter where, it would be a great view from up there. Why not?

We geared up and started up, up, up the hill. Whoever decided to cut this trail had something against switchbacks. This trail went directly up and didn’t relent at all. The higher we got, the steeper it got. At a few points, we were climbing at a 45 degree angle and needed our hands out in front of us to steady and pull ourselves up the side. It took about 45 minutes to get to the first summit. But the views were completely worth it. We were immersed in the Talkeetna Mountains and had fantastic views out to the Chugach that we left behind in Anchorage.

Once we got to the top, we realized that there was a ridge line and then another summit, and then another ridge line and another higher summit – way off in the distance, with a flag at the top. The flag became our goal. What started as a random wandering ended up being a pretty intense hike, up and up. The saddles were still covered in snow and the summit was up high above some loose rock scrambles. When we finally reached the flag, we felt like we were on top of the world. As Dave put it, it was like being on the top of a 14er in Colorado without having to contend with the lack of oxygen.

We spent some time lounging in our summit victory before heading back. Working our way down the mountain was definitely much faster, but not easier. Our knees were yelping at us the whole way back to the car. But it was a great impromptu two-hour hike and it got us back to the car with plenty of time to reach our B&B by 5 p.m. We later learned that what we hiked was called Marmot Mountain, but no marmots were spotted.

Some new friends we met on the way down...

We actually reached the inn early, so we headed up to Talkeetna quickly first. The town was just as quirky as everyone had described it to be. It is a mountaineering town and the home base for people setting out to climb Denali. Talkeetna’s claim to fame is that it’s the launching point for flight seeing tours of Denali and trips to the mountain’s base camp for expeditions. It’s a main street with a brewery, tourist shops, a general store, local arts and crafts and a train station. And every few minutes, another float plane crosses overhead on the way to the mountain. It was sunny and warm and the beer garden patio was inviting, but we had to get to our B&B – so we decided to return in a few days on the way back from Denali.

From there, we headed back down the road to the Fireweed Station Inn. The B&B was at the very end of a gravel road outside of town. It was right along the Alaskan Railroad tracks. There were several smaller cabins on the property and one large main house. When we pulled up, Tom and his wife Hobbs were there to meet us. Tom had just gotten back from a drive to Anchorage to resupply the house with food. Hobbs showed us around the place and told us that we were the only ones staying there that night, so we could have our pick of the rooms. It was a no-brainer. We chose the large two-room suite upstairs.

We had opted for them to cook us dinner and selected the sockeye salmon with quinoa, fresh veggies and a rhubarb parfait – with all of the ingredients fresh from Hobbs' garden. Tom grilled the salmon outside and smoked it with branches from an Alder tree – and oh my goodness, was it delicious. By far, the best salmon of the entire trip. If only we could grow Alder trees on the east coast so we could cook perfect salmon at home.

During dinner we chatted with Tom and Hobbs. We learned the history of the multi-year odyssey with their beautiful home. Back in 1988, before they met, Tom fell in love with the old house on the property. He said he didn’t know why, or what would come of it, but he had to own it. Later, he met and married Hobbs and they decided to work on making it home. They did some limited work on the outside of the house and moved in with the original interior. It wasn’t until years later that they decided to fully restore and renovate the property. When they finally took on the project, it took them six years and a lot of hard work to complete. We learned about the design ideas and many changes, the poetry sessions and verses written on the inside of the dry wall, how they lifted the house and poured a new foundation and how they worked so carefully to add new life while keeping the original character of the house. The result was spectacular. It was great to look at the old pictures and get to know the families that lived in the original house and understand the way that they lived at the beginning of the century in rural Alaska.

Learning about the community from Tom and Hobbs was great as well. They work with a local expedition group and often house climbers coming and going from attempts to summit Denali. Tom’s son also works at the base camp at Mt. Everest. We learned a lot about the local mountaineering culture. Tom also sits on the state board of fisheries, so he had a lot to say about the rivers and the over-fishing happening across the state. We discussed the politics of land rights, natural resources and conservation. And we lamented the unfair power that the state legislature has over the use (or misuse) of the wilderness. It was clear that Tom and Hobbs and their family loved their wild state and were interested in doing what they could to keep it that way.

Speaking of their “wild state” we also discussed the numerous mosquitoes now hovering outside the windows and the sow and her cubs that had recently strolled through their yard a few times in the last week. Not to mention, the time in the winter when a moose was blocking an intersection in town and Tom got so upset that he got out of the car and yelled at it and chased it away. His story gave road rage a whole new meaning.

As it had been up until that point, the conversations were just as rewarding as the sights and scale of the wilderness outside. Our stay at the Fireweed Station B&B, all tucked in upstairs in our mosquito netting, was just another reminder that we were far from home in a place where everyone made us feel right at home. Too bad we couldn’t stay. 

Our Favorite Kind of Day

Once we returned from the Kenai Peninsula, we already felt claustrophobic with the number of people in Anchorage. We needed to get back to the wilderness. It’s amazing how great it feels to be away from civilization and how hard it is to re-assimilate after being away for so long.   

Anchorage is Alaska’s biggest city, but it’s still relatively small by lower-48 standards. There doesn’t seem to be a distinctive downtown, but there are some great cultural centers and some good scattered restaurants and breweries.

We had opted to stay at the Parkside Guesthouse – a small B&B owned and operated by the family that runs Camp Denali where we were headed in a few days. We arrived at 10 p.m. at night and Carley, the innkeeper, was up and sweeping the front walk. “It’s Alaska summertime,” she said. “We’re always up!”

The house was beautiful. The family had completely renovated it about 20 years ago in craftsman style with lots of rich woodwork and stained-glass windows. She showed us to our room upstairs and let us know that breakfast was at 7:30 a.m. I’m sure we were asleep minutes after our heads hit the pillow, it had been a long day (a morning kayak and hike, a 4-hour boat ride and a three-hour drive!).

Originally, we had decided to hike close to Anchorage the next day. However, we were still frustrated that we missed out on our days in Seward because of all of the rain. So, Dave and I decided – what the heck, how often are we in Alaska? So, on Wednesday, we drove the two hours back to Seward and the Kenai Peninsula to hike one of the places that we had really wanted to explore – the Lost Lake Trail. Whenever we mentioned the trail to any of the guides, their faces lit up and everyone told us it was one of their favorite Alaska hikes. So off we went on another long drive and this time, since it was finally clear, we actually got to take in the sweeping views of the Seward Highway.

The weather was very un-Seward-like, blue skies and warm weather. And there were at least five other cars in the Lost Lake Trail parking lot, so we felt confident that we weren’t out there alone with the bears.

The Lost Lake Trail connects with the Primrose Trail for a 15-mile thru hike. We decided to hike the 7.5 miles to the lake and return to the parking lot. The trail meandered through many different environments over a slight, long, incline to the lake. It started in the forest and worked its way up to fields of Alders. Once the Alders disappeared, we were up in the open tundra with miles of sweeping hills around us and the gorgeous white-capped Chugach Mountains in every direction. When we turned around, we could look way out across Resurrection Bay and where we arrived in our boat the day
before.

Thankfully we saw no wildlife, just some runners and mountain bikers and the occasional dog. It was just the two of us, the blue skies and a great workout. It felt really good to get out into the wilderness together.

We were finished in about five hours and headed back to Anchorage to change and have a big late dinner. We went to Sacks Restaurant downtown. It was one of the best meals of the trip so far. Dave had oysters and then a salmon with wasabi and ginger. I had a pear salad, followed by a mix of halibut, salmon, clams, mussels and scallops in a tomato sauce. And Dave tried his favorite beer to-date on the trip, Midnight Sun Brewery out of Anchorage.

It was a perfect day of hiking in beautiful country followed by drinks and a good meal. Our favorite kind of day.

Our Own Private Wilderness

Sunday morning, the 15 or so “floating alternative” guests were back on vans headed on the return trip to Seward. Clouds and rain had returned, but the seas had calmed. It was time to finally head out to the Kenai Fjords Glacier Lodge.

After an early breakfast, we all left the Kenai Riverside Lodge and made the 45-minute trek to Seward. By 10:30, staff were loading our luggage on the small boat we were taking out into the bay. We joined up with the other guests who had been originally scheduled to leave that morning. Given the several-day delay for guests, we found out that our boat would be the first to arrive at the Lodge for the season. The staff had been there for weeks preparing to open and the word we received is that they were anxious for us to arrive and the fun to start.

Alaska Wildland Adventures (AWA) has been around for many years. The president, Kirk Hoessle, has opened several lodges across the Kenai Peninsula. Nearly 20 years ago, he eyed the piece of land out on Pederson Glacier Lagoon on Resurrection Bay as an ideal spot to put an eco lodge. But at that time he wasn’t ready to build it. In later years, the Port Graham Native Corporation claimed the land that included the lagoon area. They did not want to see the land overly developed, but they also wanted people to have access to enjoy the wilderness. Kirk was honored that they approached him to ask if he would be interested in building a wilderness lodge on the site. Apparently, they continued to solicit him over the years until he finally felt that we was ready to invest and expand his business. It would be a major undertaking to build a lodge in such a remote place.

Through meeting Kirk and reading books on the history of the lodge, we formed an understanding of the challenges he overcame to create the destination. When he finally starting building,  it took two years – or about 10 months of non-winter work – until it was ready to open. The only way to get materials to the site was by water. Over the two-year period, he loaded five barges with more than 90 tons worth of materials – including more than 100 panes of glass (which he accomplished with none of it breaking!). Also, he did whatever he could to reduce his footprint on the land. The very limited number of trees that were cut down were incorporated into the main lodge structure. He put moss blankets down to make sure his machines did not destroy the thick green carpet that blanketed the forest. And he built the small cabins elevated off the ground to have less of an impact on the land underneath. The lodge is maintained off of a propane generator, to eliminate possible fuel spills, that switches over to battery power at night and the water system is spring-fed.

The Boat Trip

The trip out to the lodge is an event in itself. We were on a very small boat, with less than 30 of us on board – including a guide from the lodge and a local expert on the area and sea life. The trip was scheduled to take almost five hours, with plenty of stops along the way.

Although the seas had calmed, the weather had not. Unfortunately the trip out was in clouds, wind and cold rain. But we were covered in rain gear and the back outside area of the boat had a roof – so we were able to spend most of the trip outside. We pulled out of Seward and out into the bay along the towering shoreline. The tops of the mountains were still in the clouds, but the scenery was gorgeous nonetheless.

Elizabeth, the ship captain, was on a lookout for sea life for us. The great thing about this small boat, and full-day trip, was that if we spotted sea life, we headed straight for it and spent time observing the animal. Over the next few hours we saw all sorts of amazing creatures – sea lions, sea otters, eagles, puffins, mountain goats and humpback whales. Lots of humpback whales. Whenever a whale appeared on the surface and we saw either a tail or a blowhole spout in the distance, we headed straight for it. Then, the captain would shut off the engine and we would float there silently watching until it resurfaced. Not only was it great to see these huge animals up close, but to hear them too. The whales forced air out through their blow holes in a large huff and puff that you could hear from quite a distance. It was usually the first indicator that a humpback was nearby. One whale spent a lot of time on the surface playing. It started slapping its large fins on the water, making loud sounds that cut through the misty air. It was quite spectacular to linger there, bobbing in the small boat in silence, listening to these huge animals in their environment.

The staff provided sandwiches on the boat, as we rounded the tip of the peninsula and started heading up into Aialik Bay and to see some glaciers up close. We worked our way into a small channel and up to the face of the looming Holgate Glacier. Being in such a small boat made this a much different experience than our boat trip into Glacier Bay. The captain pulled the boat up to the allowable ¼ mile away from the face, stopped the engines and let us float there for a half hour. The glacier cracked and moaned and calved ice chunks into the water. Every now and then a large air pressure release would echo in the channel like a cannon shot. It was like a living breathing creature that spanned almost a mile across and several hundred feet high.

From there, we headed straight for the lodge. As we approached the black sandy beach, a line of expectant staff gathered waving and ready to meet us. They dropped the ramp and we climbed down to the beach and our new home for the next few days. The staff loaded our bags onto a small ATV golf cart and we gathered in a small group and started our 15-min hike to the main lodge. The rain was pouring down, but everyone was all smiles. We all felt like we were in a special place, five-hours away from civilization by boat.

Half way along the walk, in the middle of a rainy meadow, surrounded by snowy mountains, a large glacier and the ocean, the lead guide stopped us to give us the “bear talk.” There were no brown bears there, but there were plenty of black bears. So far, they’ve all lived together in harmony. But they reminded us that we were, indeed, in the wilderness and that we needed to be bear aware whenever wandering on the grounds.

We arrived at the lodge and gathered with refreshments by the woodstove for our orientation. Since we were the first guests of the season, the company president, Kirk, was there – and he welcomed us all. We got a rundown of our cabin assignments, and an invitation for an afternoon canoe trip on the lagoon. We decided to pass on that, and took a nap in our cozy cabin instead. The cabin tucked in the forest with a back porch with a private view of the lagoon and a massive glacier and snow-capped mountains. This place was awesome.

Later that evening, we gathered at the bar for drinks and appetizers before being seated for dinner as a group. During the cocktail hour, we signed up for our staff-guided excursions for the next day. We opted for a full-day kayak tour to a nearby glacier. For dinner, we sat with Kim and Kris from Anchorage. They were our age and just there for one night. Kim works for an Alaskan tours company, helping clients build their dream Alaskan vacations. She was there to experience the lodge, because she sends so many of her clients there. Her boyfriend, Kris, is an environmental consultant who works on projects across the state. Currently he is working on relocating a landfill in the arctic that is beginning to slide into the ocean because of melting permafrost. By the time dinner was over, the rain had stopped and the skies had begun to clear. Blue, finally! So Kim, Kris and John and Johanna from NY, and the two of us decided to take a walk back down to the beach to enjoy the newly sunny evening.

John and Johanna headed back after awhile and we stuck with Kim and Kris for another hour or so wandering on the beach, in the marshes and along the lagoon – always keeping our eyes peeled for bears. The sun was lowering in the sky (but not setting) and the mountains were drenched in golden light and the water sparkled. Kim and I talked and talked about Alaska and our lives while the boys wandered, explored and took pictures.

When we made it back to the lodge we joined our friends Louise, Bob and their son, Ben, skipping stones and drinking beer and wine before the 10 p.m. bar close. Louise and Bob knew the president, Kirk, and so when we returned to the lodge, he agreed to unlock the closed taps and keep the alcohol flowing. All of us, including Kirk, stayed there until well past midnight chatting about Alaska, the lodge, conservation and life. It was a great evening.

Excursions

After an early breakfast the next morning (there’s no sleeping in here) we were able to make our own lunches for our kayaking adventure. It was a very small group of us going. Just the two of us, our two guides, Laura and Devon, and Laura’s parents (from Alaska) who were visiting for a few days. We hiked down to the beach and got to know each other. Since all of us had kayaked before, we quickly moved through the safety and skills talk and got underway. The plan was a 7-mile round trip to the Aialik Glacier, with a few stops at beaches along the way – including Slate Island, for lunch. The skies were blue, the weather warm and the seas calm.

We pushed off in our double kayak and started heading toward the glacier. All was well for the first hour or so as we glided along. Sea otters kept popping up to say hello near the boats (actually thinking that we were whales and probably scared for their lives…). The water was turquoise blue and it matched the sky. We were warm (which was unusual) and having a great time.

But then a breeze started to blow. And then it was a wind. I could feel myself getting chilly, but I thought it was just because we were getting more into open water. We put on extra layers and kept going. We started to reach the ice fields. Small to medium chunks of ice surrounded the boat. Devon asked us to go single-file, following her, as she maneuvered her way and made clearings through the ice. But the task got more and more difficult as the wind continued to pick up. The ice kept coming, it was getting bigger and we were all having trouble steering our boats. When I finally took a moment to look around, I realized that we weren’t making any forward progress. It was like kayaking on a treadmill. And the ice from the glacier was getting blown out into the open water and was surrounding our boats. It was an incredible sight, but it made for very difficult kayaking. That’s when Devon and Laura made the decision to call off the outing. It wasn’t worth the effort anymore.

When we turned around to face the shore, the view was entirely different than when we had left. The wind had pushed all of the ice behind us and it was piling up on the beach. We now had to re-navigate all of the ice blocks as the wind pushed us from behind. All of the ice had now built up on the beach and created a 10-foot wide barrier that we couldn’t get through. We couldn’t return to the spot on the beach where we started, so we had to move down to another section of the beach. Which meant, when we landed, we all had to haul the boats a really long way back to our starting point. After several hours of beautiful and difficult paddling, we managed to get a great workout but didn’t even make it half way to our halfway point. The experience just shows how the Alaskan weather can change so dramatically even in only an hour or two.

Since our full-day adventure was foiled, the guides offered to take the two of us on an afternoon hike up the ridge by the lodge after lunch for some great views. Laura and her dad joined us, along with a new guide, Grace. It was Grace’s day off, but she thought it would be fun to come along on the hike. The ridge hike was several miles uphill to a summit with fantastic views of the ocean, mountains, lagoon and glaciers. Sections of it were so steep and muddy that there were ropes to help us pull ourselves uphill. Along the way we spotted a bald eagle in its nest. We were also lucky that not only was Laura a naturalist studying environmental studies at Stanford, but that she and her dad were Alaska natives who knew everything about the flora and fauna around us. We stopped throughout the hike and learned so much from them about our surroundings. We even found out which plants were edible and sampled them all, munching on salmon berry flowers the whole way up.

The summit was beautiful, with sweeping 360-degree views. It was a fantastic afternoon, with really fun people – and a great way to make up for our having to turn back on the kayaks that morning.

That evening, we had another nice time chatting with everyone at the bar followed by another good dinner. But this time, dinner finished with a show. Immediately following dessert, we heard a gasp and everyone ran to the windows. A black bear appeared on the dock and headed right up to the back deck. He paused, and shook his wet black fur for us, spraying water in every direction. We all peered out the window while he flopped down on a log and proceeded to rub his belly. And then, just as quickly as he appeared, he bolted, taking off down the beach and disappearing quickly into the forest. It was perfectly choreographed, as a friendly reminder that we were not alone out there. 

After dinner, John from NY joined Dave and me for another walk on the beach – in the opposite direction that the bear traveled. We walked over to the beach where we took off with our kayaks earlier that morning to check out the ice still left on the sand. Most of the chunks from that morning had either melted or floated away. But several dozen were still scattered in the black sand, with the evening sun reflecting off their random angles. John is an amateur photographer in his retirement, so he and Dave were down in the sand, enjoying opportunities to capture the melting ice sculptures.

Half-Day Redemption Attempt

The boat taking us back to Seward didn’t leave until 2:30 p.m. the next day, giving us an opportunity to sign up for a morning excursion. Along with Laura’s parents, we opted for a half-day kayak trip to Slate Island – the halfway point that we weren’t even able to reach the day before. We all felt the need to redeem ourselves after being thwarted by the wind. But alas, just as we sat down for breakfast, the guide let us know that the wind had not relented and the trip was canceled. So we changed our plans again. We signed up to take the canoe across the lagoon and then hike across the inlet to visit the upper lagoon at the face of Pederson Glacier.

Apparently, the wind was raging in the lagoon as well. Because, what was a leisurely canoe paddle for everyone who did this excursion the day before, was now a serious workout as we all paddled with all of our might to get across the lagoon. Our shoulders all stung when that was done. On the other side, Riley and Randy, our guides, walked us about 1.5 miles across the inlet – stopping along the way to examine plants and wildlife. We reached the upper lagoon and had about 30 minutes to explore and play on the ice floating beneath the glacier. Then we hiked back and canoed our return across the lagoon for lunch.

The Departure

After lunch, we found our favorite guides and exchanged goodbyes and contact information. Dave and I hiked down to the beach in advance of the other guests to spend some extra time in this beautiful place before leaving. We had some time to play with some sea otters that were poking their heads above the surf to check us out.

We boarded the boat and headed back out onto the bay. This time, the skies were clear and there was no chilling rain slowing us down. We spent the entire boat ride back outside hunting for wildlife. Miles and miles of gorgeous mountainous shorelines were now visible to us that were hidden on the trip out. And we had tons of whale sightings, with some tails lifted high into the air very close to our boat. It was a great afternoon on the water. 

It was certainly difficult to leave this remote wilderness lodge, our new friends, the sunshine, the mountains and the yet-unclaimed kayak destinations. The only logical answer was that we would need to return again! The Kenai Fjords Glacier Lodge is truly a special place. But back in Seward, we already had our sights set on our next destination. We reclaimed our car and headed on the 2.5-drive north to Anchorage, just in time for pizza and beer at the Moose’s Tooth pub. Our trip was only half way done and there were still many adventures to come!

A Floating Alternative

Throughout our 19-day trip we counted that we were going to take at least: 11 planes, five boats, three rental cars and several school buses. It’s Alaska, where everything is unpredictable, so with those types of numbers, you’d have to assume that something would have to go wrong. But so far, everything has been running like clockwork.

When we woke up Saturday morning (May 31), we packed our bags, cooked up our homemade waffles at The Paddle Inn and set off into the drizzly day to meet our next boat in Seward. The plan was to take a four-hour cruise to a remote wilderness lodge for a three-night stay in Resurrection Bay on the Kenai Peninsula. It was one of the places we were looking forward to the most. As we drove to check in at the dock, we looked out on the promising blue skies carving out the clouds in the distance over the bay. Finally, the rain was clearing and just in time for the journey to the lodge.

We arrived at the tiny office for the Kenai Glacier Lodge at the Seward docks and were greeted with “Are you the Benders? Did you get our phone message this morning?” No, we hadn’t. We barely get signal anywhere in this state. Reacting to her concerned look, I took a deep breath and prepared for what they needed to tell us. “The seas in the Gulf of Alaska are too high and we can’t get any boats out to the lodge today. But we have two alternatives for you to consider,” she added quickly before I had a chance to react. Option one, take a van out to their luxury wilderness lodge on the Kenai River for a full-day raft float down the river with a guide or, option two, reschedule your trip. Without a moment’s hesitation, we both responded, “option one of course!”

We would be heading inland to the heart of the Peninsula to the Kenai River Lodge owned by the same company as the Glacier Lodge - Alaska Wildlands Adventure (AWA). We’d spend the night there, and then they’d bus us back the next morning to set out to our original lodge on the water. This change made us thankful that we had booked three nights at the Glacier Lodge, so losing one day didn’t alter the trip too much.

While we waited for our shuttle in the office, we saw several other parties face the news and make the same choice we did. Everyone was in great spirits and we were excited to add something different to our itinerary. Close to 15 people (which was everyone) took option one and we all climbed into the van for the 45-min drive to the Riverside Lodge.

The van headed North up the Seward Highway, that we had explored in the rain the day before. Still no moose sightings that morning (we were truly starting to believe that there are no moose in the state of Alaska). About 30 minutes north, we took a turn to the West and headed down the road toward Homer. This was a great addition to the schedule, because we hadn’t intended on traveling this way in the original plan.

The clearing skies were working their way inland and the mountain tops were showing themselves to us for the first time. As the clouds lifted, we noticed that most of the high mountains received fresh snow at the peaks overnight, so everything looked dusted in confectioners sugar.

 We arrived at the wilderness lodge which was tucked in the woods along the Kenai River. There was a main lodge building and then a series of small individual cabins scattered in the forest and along the water. The staff gave us a warm welcome when we arrived and directed us into the small main lodge area for warm drinks, a warm fire and a very nice sit-down lunch. We had a great time chatting with fellow travelers Bob and Louise from St. Louis who were traveling with their son Ben who had just graduated from college.

After lunch, the staff assigned us to cabins (we were in Copper) and we all had about 30 minutes to prepare for our half-day river float trip. Most of us gathered down by the river to get geared up and listen to safety instructions. Tanner was our guide and he outfitted us with heavy rain gear and mud boots. That water was cold, and despite the fact that I was already swimming in the size of the jacket and pants, he assured me it was more comfortable then getting drenched in the glacial water.

The river was beautiful. It was a vivid, silty, turquoise blue. It started from glacier run off and snaked through gorgeous spruce forests and white sugar-dusted mountains. The group divided into two bright yellow river rafts. We were in the boat with the guide Tanner, and seated next to John and Johanna from Park Slope, New York. We pushed off and began our leisurely, four-hour float down the Kenai.

The sun broke through the clouds, the water glistened blue, eagles lifted off from the tops of spruce trees and we slowly drifted down the river taking in all of the sights and sounds. Along the way, Tanner taught us about the local ecosystem, pointed out birds, flood levels and named the mountains for us. We also learned about his history. His parents met and fell in love working at the Kenai Riverside Lodge years ago. They still work there in the summers and he now spends his summers as a guide there too. It was great having someone with such deep roots in the area steering us on this journey.

Tanner also explained the fishing culture on the Kenai River. That area is known for some of the best salmon fishing in the world. The Alaska King Salmon have two runs a year, starting in mid to late June. They head up the Kenai River and the adjoining Russian River to spawn. When that happens, apparently Alaskans and tourists go a bit mad. It’s known locally as “combat fishing.” Thousands of people line the banks of the rivers, shoulder to shoulder, two to three people deep, competing for the best lines for the best salmon in the world. Tanner pointed out the tremendous erosion on the river banks from where people slide down the sides to reach the shoreline. As a guide, he often floats down the river with a front-row seat to the mayhem. People can be so crazed, he said, that they elbow their way through hungry bears to catch the best fish. Combat fishing, indeed.

After a few hours on the water and still no major wildlife sightings, we arrived at the vans and were shuttled back to the lodge. We had a lovely relaxing afternoon, curled up on a couch at the main lodge – drinking wine, snacking and reading books in front of the woodstove fireplace. We had a nice dinner with the full group and spent a few hours chatting with Louise, Bob and Ben. Later, Dave and I explored the grounds and took a short nature walk through the woods along the river. Apparently, the trails were originally moose trails, but alas – still no sightings for us.

We had a cozy sleep in our little cabin. And per usual, there’s no sleeping in on vacation. We were up and ready for breakfast by 7:30 a.m.– with bags packed for the transfer back to the docks in Seward. The seas had settled and we were promised a boat ride to our lodge in the morning.

Alaska is wilderness and you can’t expect everything to go as planned. Here, you are at the whim of weather and nature. But if you select the right companies, as we did with Alaska Wildlands Adventures, you can sometimes be guaranteed a wonderful floating alternative.