The Writers were right

This trip to the northern hemisphere has helped me understand, at a much more personal level, what the poets were saying. Frost, the American, talked of two roads in a yellow wood and I have now seen the yellow wood, shimmering  and dancing in the lowering sun of late Autumn.  When the Brothers Grimm wrote of the dangers of getting lost in the dark and gloomy forest,  I have seen that too, with the trunks of trees so close together in the conifer forests that the sense of being trapped in perpetual darkness and obscurity and the lack of a point of reference to guide the abandoned child to safety, leaves both the child and the reader with a deep sense of foreboding.

The movement between the two happened gently, with some generous intermingling for a while and then the fading out of the Sitka Spruce and the thickening of the Birch forests to the point where the conifer is just an occasional reminder. I wondered, for a while, whether this was as a result of the fire that burned out over 700 thousand hectares of conifer forest a few years ago, or whether the frequency of patches of "ghost forest" after the sea stole the life out of the roots of the spruce after the '64 earthquake, contributed to the loss of pine forest. But I suspect that this is the natural order of things.

As we drove by on our bus, at one stage, I glanced down into a boggy patch of tree thinned, water logged land and saw a ripple then a gloop in the water near some horizontal trees and branches and I reckon it was a beaver. It had found its spot, thinned out the trees to build its lodge and was busily shoring it up for the winter. They are private animals so I guess that may be all I will see. The sign "Private Property" was not visible but understood neverthless.

Today, I also saw some of Keats "seasons of mist and mellow fruitfulness" in the enormous pumpkin and cabbage sitting up next to a building. This is a happy pastime for many of the inhabitants of this part of Alaska and this is the time of year when the giant pumpkins, some as large as 700 kilos and cabbages weighing as much as 60 kilos, win prizes at County Fairs. I doubt if the ones I saw were winners, but they were certainly big. I suspect they are also inedible!

Our special treat for today was a visit to an Iditarod Camp called "Happy Trails". It is owned by Martin Buser, who is a four time Iditarod Winner. This event happens every year in Alaska running from Anchorage to Nome, a distance of 1049 miles. The distance is significant because it is a thousand miles plus 49, because Alaska is the forty-ninth state of the Union.

The race is for dog teams and is an endurance race. As we learned at the earlier camp, the dogs just love it and can't wait to run. They have the same look on their faces as cattle and sheep dogs get when they know they are about to start working. They are intelligent animals and just sit around waiting to learn. If I had had students with half as much commitment to making their effort count as these dogs, then I am certain their results would have made them stand out with distinction from the crowd. We were shown a short film on the race, introduced to some very excitable dogs who just want to be with a human and taken through the procedure for dressing a dog for the race. In the worst conditions they would have a t-shirt to protect them from the rubbing of the harness, booties to protect their feet from the harsh ice, a fleecy lined water resistent overcoat to keep the body warm and even a nappy to protect the sparsely haired section around their nether regions. Frozen balls would hurt. The dog asked to assist with this display was thoroughly compliant but did start to get a tad anxious when too many questions meant he had to stay in his warm outfit for longer than he was comfortable. (This dog, "Rock", is actually quite famous as he was part of the fourth placed Iditarod team in 2014, competing in the same team as his brother "Roll".) They prefer it much colder and our group weather committee had arranged for yet another warm and clear day.

I had a lovely chat with several dogs and one took great pleasure in discovering that I was wearing a scarf. He tugged at it, sniffed it, nuzzled it, grabbed it again and decided it would be an ideal toy to play tug'o'war with. I didn't mind. He was being playful and I would have felt comfortable removing it from his mouth, but his owner called his name sharply and Storm dropped the scarf. I didn't say anything to the humans again, but word did get around the dogs that there was a scarf in camp today and it was good for tugging. Dogs made a beeline for me as I walked by and each wanted to find the scarf. I had to tie it up and hide it because they all wanted to play. Mind you, the dogs took great interest in all of us. They just hungered for attention and welcomed every bit.

After the demonstration of harnessing and taking the dogs for a spin, we were introduced to the puppies. This lot were only eight days old and still had their eyes shut. They were tiny warm bundles with little murmuring grumbles in their chests, the sort of soothing noises creatures have when they are well fed, warm and at ease. The humans gave all the cooing and ahhing we always make when we come across baby anythings. Lots of photos later we got back on the bus and were presented with a bootie each. It had been worn and so was the genuine article. I could see the dusty footprint in the sock where it had been in the dirt!

To his credit, the owner of these dogs has won the Idita rod four times, a remarkable accomplishment. But of greater significance to me, is that he has won the best kept and maintained animals in the competition, five times. He cares about his animals' health and well being and ensures they are well cared for. That speaks volumes!

We arrived, after some delays because of roadworks, at a tiny tourist village called Talkeetna. It is a First Nations' name but the town took little more than the name from the indigenous. It had eateries, gift shops and places to book tours. It was a charming place that almost disappears each winter. Main street is the only street. It was very welcoming.

Ross and I ate fish and chips, but it was nothing like a piece of flake and fries we are familiar with. They had small, deep fried pieces of halibut and salmon. It felt very odd indeed to be eating deep fried salmon. It is a dish served sensitively with a crispy skin on one side and a squeeze of lemon and some black pepper on the other, when served at home. Here it is the fish for every day and you do with it, anything you want. Ross took another leap into eating local today by downing a root beer. He said it was like sarsparilla. Ross took off for walk to see the river and I made it into a gift shop where I added some more pieces to my charm bracelet that will represent this holiday. I already have a very heavy charm necklace covering my European vacation and when I get time to connect them all I will have a matching bracelet. Success came in the shape of a dog sled charm and a moose charm today.

I must stop now to make a further comment on moose. The segue seems appropriate. It seems that Alaskans tend to regard the moose in a similar way to how we treat the roo. It is often road kill on the bigger roads. They have a special arrangement though. You can register for road kill. If a moose is killed on the road, the authorities contact you and tell you where it is and you go out and collect it and use it for food or skins or antlers or anything else you want. If no-one wants it, the authorities pick it up and take it to charities who then cook it up for the homeless. Sounds very sensible to me. Apparently the moose we saw the other day was a right tiddler. As I write this blog I am finishing off my dinner of blueberry salad (salad leaves dressed in balsamic vinegar, then liberally sprinkled with candied pecans, blueberries and goats cheese. Delicious), and just above my head is the head of the biggest moose. OMG! It is enormous! It is leering at me which is giving me the heebie jeebies.

Our final stop for the day was Mt Denali. It used to be called Mt McKinley and we were given a very patriotic explanation of its significance by our bus driver Jesse. It is the 82th highest mountain by overall height in the world, but that is not considered worthy of much celebration. However, their efforts have revealed that the highest mountains are in the Himalayan range. These may be higher above sea level than Denali, but they start on a high plateau and Everist itself is a peak on top of the plateau. The driver, a man born and bred in Idaho, proudly points out that McKinley (he still prefers the old name but insists that "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet" - Shakespeare is our fourth poet today) is, in fact taller than Everist because it rises from the plain which is essentially just a short distance above sea level. It stands at about 20,310 feet, or 6190 metres, above sea level. This makes it the tallest mountain in the world by the adjusted measurements.

It is quite a stunning looking mountain. It is highly photogenic and my camera hungered for more. Our tour director, Bill, just could not believe our luck at having a cloudless sky and clear sunshine gleaming off the snow covered mountain. More often than not it is cloudy, misty or obscured by rain. The last few times he was here he could not see it at all.

We are staying at Mt McKinley Princess Lodge which has viewing verandahs, huge windows, cushioned chairs and bar service in the main lodge. We were told to prepare for basic existence, but this aint it! Our room faces north which had me a bit excited because it would mean facing the mountain and any potential aurora (yes....... still waiting.....) . However, when I opened the curtains we had a great view of a tree and the roof of the building next to us. Oh dear! I intend to stay up as long as I can this evening in one of the cushioned chairs to see if the aurora will come before midnight. I can't manage anything beyond that because we must be up early to catch a train through the mountains to Denali National Park tomorrow. Maybe that is where it will get to be "wilderness".Read more