Birch bends

So what is fireweed and how can you remember the names of the Pacific Salmon? Two powerful questions that almost everyone has managed to live without knowing. Well, not for much longer.

Fireweed is a plant that is quite virulent in this part of the world. When it first establishes itself, it grows low across the ground, bright red. I saw a spot where a farmer had mown the strip out the front of his farmhouse. It was a strong patchwork of red and green. Given half a chance, the plant grows vertically very quickly, maintaining its vibrant red colour. When it flowers, it produces a bright pink flower in a progression up the stem. When flowering finishes, the locals say that Summer is over and Fall has begun. Soon after, the skin surrounding the seed pods splits and feathery seeds emerge from a large gossamer mass and float off with the slightest breeze to land in the next potential habitat. The other folk tale about the fireweed is that the height of the plant at the time of seed release will be the height of the snowfall in winter. Some of the plants in the Lodge we were in last night would indicate a very heavy fall this winter. It is prolific in the area and fills great swathes by the road with colour.

The story with the Salmon requires the use of a five digit hand. (One of our fellow travellers has only four so we need to be specific.) There are five types of Pacific salmon.

The thumb reminds us of the Chum.
The pointer finger can poke you in the eye giving you a Sockeye.
The middle finger stands tall and proud as a King.
The ring finger is not so much gold as Silver.
And the pinky finger is for the Pink Salmon with a hump on its back.

The common names for the salmon are, in the same order, Chum dog, Red, Chinook, Coho and Humpy.

Feeling better now? Here is one more.

Today we saw two lots of Trumpeter Swans. One pair had a cygnet. Normally they are the last to leave to fly south, but would normally have gone by now. These last ones are still here. The very pleasant weather may have kept them here.

On our animal quota today we continued to see lots more beaver lodges and I spotted a young moose. It was gone in a flash. Someone said they thought they might have seen some Dall sheep and a couple of eagles flew by in the opposite direction. We came across some elk scat but I do not consider the poo of an animal as a "sighting". It could count as a indicator, but no more.

We began our day in a leisurely fashion because, although our bags had to be out by seven, we would not leave until 10.15.

I was not really prepared for what I saw today, but I was not totally unaware of its potential.

Yesterday we went through the yellow forests of Silver Birch, Aspen and similar deciduous trees. They were all shades of yellow, orange, gold and occasionally the remnants of green. The dappled silvery trunks gleamed where the dark grey, green and smoky blue conifers of previous days had held a velvet darkness. Today we moved through mixtures of these and the colour contrasts were startling and, in the words of Hercules Poirot, "c'est incroyable!". He is not given to admiration of nature, but I feel he might have acknowledged this.

It might seem strange to be channelling that particular Belgian but I have now been travelling with the same group of people for some time, on trains, on buses and staying in accommodation next to each other, and that is just the sort of thing that Agatha Christie would have used to create a mystery. What secrets might emerge, what dastardly past might some quiet person have revealed about themselves, and who might be on the tour for entirely misleading reasons. Right now we are in a wilderness lodge, at the end of the season and people are reducing in numbers. It is just what she would have liked. I do not think I should allow my imagination to identify the victim or the perpetrator or red herring and so I must stop this speculation immediately! Far too dangerous!

We were taken to our train ("the Midnight Sun Express" from Talkeetna to Denali) that is a cut down, smaller and more cheaply, but not less cheerfully run version of the Rocky Mountaineer. This train would take us on a five hour journey through to Denali National Park where we have been assured we will see many animals in the wild. The journey was extraordinary. "C'est ca".

We wound our way through valleys of yellow looking down into chasms and glacial melt and fallen trees. We looked up at hillsides that were speckled and vibrant with autumnal colour. My camera went nuts.

Then we noticed a few changes, and trees began losing height. We had moved from Taiga (a Russian word describing that terrain) to Tundra. Why Russian? Well this part of the world, after the First Nations and before the British, Canadian and Americans got involved, was actually Russian territory. It was set up as trading centres for fur pelts but as the demand and supply for animal furs fell, the cost and complexity of supporting this colony became too great. They refused to sell to the British (they were fighting with each other) and the Americans were heavily in to acquiring as much territory as they could, so the Russians sold Alaska to the Americans for two cents an acre.

Anyway, back to the train journey... we arrived in the tundra. The plant life was shorter and sparser because of the permafrost that typifies the land as tundra. Different, lower growing grasses, sedges, heath plants and bog plants became more frequent. The higher peaks were bare because the cold, ice and snow denied the plants any warm space to grow or usable water to feed on. The colours became stronger as rusts, reds, pinks and purples crept into the palette. Frequent ponds, some large and full of life and others, anaerobic, foetid and dark, dotted the landscape. The brilliant sky with some whispy clouds, created by sun on the snow peaks of nearby Mt Denali and its neighbours, hovered overhead. When you see the pictures, and if they show the accurate colours, you will want to know whether they have been colour enhanced or photoshopped. They have not. Even the cheerful and ingenuous staff would stop working and say "Wow!" every now and then. Most of the time the area does not have clear skies and visibility can be a problem. Our weather committee saw to perfect weather again today.

I had a vague notion of something familiar about the sights but it was not until later that I realised that this was the place where Ansell Adams, the beautiful b&w landscape photographer, took many of this more famous shots. Please enjoy the photographs and be prepared to be amazed. They are nothing like Adams' shots but they nevertheless tell a story of the splendid isolation of the place.

We arrived at our accommodation in the early evening, got settled in to the place where we were told life would get basic, but found it very pleasant and had wifi. We were asked to be ready for dinner by 7.45 because we would have a dinner and show in the theatre. So, true to our nature as a group we were all there, refreshed and ready to be entertained.

The food was not as lavish as most of the other meals we had had, for which most of us were quite relieved. It was some very plain salad with a "biscuit " (read flat scone) followed by mashed potato with bacon bits then some barbecue braised brisket and some poached salmon in a very light lemon sauce. Dessert was an apple crumble with cream. Everything was brought out in platters and we served ourselves by passing the platters up and down the long benches. Our serving staff were the performers and they came out in costume and character. Ours was a "ditzy blonde" called Molly who was a show girl. Others had rough and ready pioneers, mountaineers or representatives of the First Nations people of this area, the Athabascans. They told the story, in song and dance, of the settlement of the area and efforts to climb Mt Denali which appears to be a very difficult climb. Everything was accompanied by a very talented pianist who, obviously having been tipped off, or overheard us speaking, put together a medley of Australian songs: Waltzing Matilda, Home among the Gum Trees and the Vegemite song. We did, as was expected, sing along.

It was a charming evening, performed by quite a few young performers trying to get their start in life and who showed talent. When it was over we were sent to bed. No-one seemed to be too surprised or concerned about this. We were ready for sleep. Moreso, because we knew that breakfast would be at five am before a six am start on a natural history tour around the park. This is where we have been assured of more animal sightings. My camera will be charged and ready.Read more