When #49 becomes #1

I have, on more occasions than I can count, listed my interests as history and National Parks. Jen and I have spent many days of our summer vacations visiting sites that are related to those two areas of interest that we share. We had visited 46 states and 33 National Parks prior to this summer. Last August, after eating dinner with our friends, John and Gretchen, we decided to plan a trip together to Alaska—a state that is home to eight National Parks and plenty of history. The trip was full of more history and scenic National Parks than we could have even anticipated. 

The first National Park we visited was Denali, which includes the highest mountain peak in North America at 20,310 feet. Formerly known as Mount McKinley, the name was first assigned as a tribute to the 1896 presidential candidate. After his 1901 assassination, the name became more of a tribute and harder to change. The move to use the indigenous Alaskan name Denali (great one) started with the park’s creation in 1917. In 1980, the National Park Service changed the name to Denali National Park and the mountain name was changed in 2015. As the state of his birth, Ohio members of Congress vehemently opposed the change, but the official change was supported most everywhere else. 

When we landed in Anchorage, it was pouring rain and there was low-lying fog—typical of summer Alaskan weather. As a result, the two-hour drive was not very scenic to Talkeetna, our first lodging location. Alaskan summer days are long, sunrise at 4:30 AM and sunset at 11 PM, so I was up at 6:30 AM the next day and wandered down the short path from our cabin to the Susitna River where a clear view could be seen of the Alaskan Range, hoping Denali would be visible. Only 30% of Alaskan visitors get to see Denali because of rain and clouds. In fact, the mountain is so high, it makes its own weather, so a clear day twenty miles away is no guarantee the mountain will be clear. At the end of the short path at the river's edge, I turned and there it was as clear as day: the Alaskan Denali Range. It was breathtaking-—so much so that I quickly summoned the others. We were very blessed as during the five days we spent in the area, Denali was visible every day. Words can’t possibly describe its grandeur. 

The park itself provided opportunities to view wildlife. We saw giant moose down to fox pups. The most exciting encounter took place as we hiked a riverbed and two hikers in front of us started to motion wildly and juke side to side. We thought they were joking with each other until one started to yell “Watch out!” and then I heard it: splash, splash, splash. It was a large Caribou running in the riverbed towards us, and by the time I turned, the gentle beast and its huge rack was a mere ten yards from us. The poor guy was likely frightened by us, especially with the two hikers acting erratically. The big fellow veered off into the brush and what he likely considered safety. Besides its mountains and wildlife, Denali is also the only National Park that patrols in the winter with sled dog teams. We were able to tour the kennel, visit the dogs and see a demonstration, adding to the splendor of the visit.

Best photo I could get of the big fellow.

The next park we visited was Lake Clark. Lake Clark is only accessible by float plane or boat, and it was the first time for all of us to fly in a float plane. In the simplest of descriptions, it was a cool experience and smoother taking off and landing than expected. Once we arrived, we boarded a small boat with a guide for the four of us and went salmon fishing. Jen proved to be a natural and John was the best. I caught one salmon, lost one … you know, the one that got away. I also reeled in a trout, but we threw him back. Part of the day was spent bear watching, but we only saw one bear; however, better opportunities would follow. Most notable, the scenery in the park was majestic. 

Our next park was Katmai National Park. We flew into this park on a float plane also. Katmai is most noted for an area called Brooks Falls, which first opened as a fishing resort and is now a prime spot for viewing bears. Brown bears gather at the falls to pack on the pounds for winter by eating salmon as they make their swim up river to spawn. Remarkably, salmon journey hundreds of miles adjusting from freshwater to saltwater because they develop an extra kidney—something I envy—and then return to the spot where they were hatched to spawn, at a nearness the size of a baseball infield. This in itself is amazing, but even more amazing things were to be seen at Katmai. 

When you first arrive at Katmai, every visitor must attend bear school. A fifteen-minute class includes a film and presentation by a park ranger to make sure people understand both etiquette and safety precautions necessary for an area where one is likely to encounter bears. The park service does a great job preventing human to bear interaction, from requiring you to keep all food in a locked building and only eating in a designated area with an electrified fence to reminding visitors not to cheer when the bears catch salmon. Most important was to never run from a bear. It's noteworthy that even with all that the bears eat, 94% of salmon make it to their spawning ground, so bears only catch a small portion of the run. 

The one-mile trail from the visitor center to the viewing platforms at Brooks Falls is an easy hike, except you must be on the lookout for bears and yield the right of way if there is a bear on the trail. We didn’t encounter one on the trail, but when we landed, there was one on the shore. That bear, like the others, had no interest in us thanks to proper wildlife management. The trail to the falls includes two elevated walkways that have heavy steel gates so that you don’t find yourself on a walkway with a bear and no place to go. 

Our good fortune continued as we arrived at Brooks Falls. There were thirty bears at the falls. Even our pilot commented that it's unusual to have that many bears there at one time. Again, I will start with saying my words can't do justice to both the sights and sounds of the bears in action. We were awestruck at this opportunity to view nature and hear it as well. The sound of one bear growling at another was a quick reminder of their raw power and, in case you didn't take bear school seriously, this was not a zoo. Jen described viewing the bear as “enthralling. Being that close to so many hungry brown bears was surreal.” 

Our final park was Kenai Fjords. Fjords are formed by glaciers and are long, narrow inlets with steep cliffs. This park includes the Harding Icefield, which boasts 40 glaciers. The difference between an icefield and a glacier is glaciers move, icefields don't. A ranger made the analogy that an icefield is like a lake and the glaciers are like rivers flowing from the icefield. We started our stay in Seward where Kenai Fjords is headquartered with an 8.5 hour cruise to view multiple glaciers and wildlife, and again we were wonderstruck with the experience. Viewing a tidewater glacier up close was special, and witnessing calving—pieces breaking free from the glacier and falling into the ocean—was unforgettable for both its sights and sounds.

We saw a great variety of wildlife, from porpoises to puffins. Nothing was as special though as watching a large pod of whales “bubble netting.” Bubble netting is a hunting process for humpback whales who submerge and swim in a circle, exhaling and singing, causing bubbles that act as a net that pushes small fish together and to the surface. The whales follow them to the surface, gulping down the fish as they come out of the water. We were able to watch them break the surface and then turn to repeat the process, their tails coming out of the water as they dove back down. The biologist on the boat said it's unusual to witness this and we saw three different groups of whales do it. Simply amazing. 

Humpback whales bubble netting while seabirds gather for leftovers.

The Kenai Peninsula and its surrounding area, including Katmai, Lake Clark, as well as Kachemak Bay State Park, are the most scenic and beautiful areas we have ever visited, and thus my title, as Alaska, our 49th state, became #1 for us. It wasn't just the scenic beauty. It was also the people, so I'm going to briefly describe three historic events I learned more about while in Alaska. 

I knew some details about these events, but going to some museums and visitor centers gave me a new perspective on the special people of Alaska. During World War II, Alaskans were subjected to air attacks by the Japanese after the Aleutian Islands of Attu and Kiska were invaded and the Japanese held the islands for a year. Some Alaskans had to evacuate their homes until the threat ceased when the Japanese withdrew in 1943. In 1964, Alaska experienced a 9.2 earthquake. It was one of the worst earthquakes in North America; 131 people died in the earthquake and 119 more died from a tsunami caused by underground landslides in the ocean. The earthquake lasted four minutes and was followed by many tremors and subsequent earthquakes. Some communities were completely destroyed, and the ground dropped 10 to 15 feet in places. As one survivor described it, “The trees bent and the ground disappeared.” It’s the first time we visited a place with Tsunami Evacuation Route signs. The last historical event is one known by nearly everyone: the 1989 Exxon Valdez disaster. What struck me most as I gazed at the beautiful Alaskan shoreline is the fact the amount of Alaskan coastline impacted would stretch from Philadelphia to Chicago if you compared it to the United States’ lower 48 states. What Alaskans overcame in all three cases is a testament to their fortitude. In fact, I couldn’t help wondering if those events played a role in the hospitality we experienced. There was a notable difference between Alaskan residents and those who were there for seasonal work. For all these reasons, #49 has become our #1 destination. 

As always, thanks for reading the History Lowdown.