Alaska 2026: The Tundra Wilderness Expedition
(Maps are courtesy of the U.S. National Park Service)
We get a great night’s sleep when we fall into bed around 6 pm local time – a combination of our bodies still being on Pensacola time and the body cost of a full day’s drive following a full day’s flight to get here. We were wide awake before 6 a.m., a really good thing because we had reservations on the Denali Tundra Wilderness Tour and needed to be at the pickup point by 7:40.
Denali Park Village is just across busy Alaska Highway 3, which is not busy on a Sunday morning so we get there, get a parking place and AdventureMan asks me if we have our paper with the confirmation. No. As we left the cabin, we were busy unplugging all the heating devices – fireplace, radiator, and the coffee maker and the microwave, washing up the breakfast dishes.
No, I had left it on the table, where I had put it, so I wouldn’t forget. We got back in the car, drove back to our cabin, I ran in and got the paper, and we were back in the same parking place in five minutes, still early so we would be on time.
The lobby was packed! There must have been two hundred people there for tour pickups. The first pickup was the Denali Raft Trip. It’s 40 degrees outside, and the rivers are formed from glacial runoff. Still, a group of hardy twenty-somethings is headed out on the waters for an Alaskan adventure, and a part of me momentarily forgot I am not a twenty-something and longed to be going on that trip.
We discovered that many of the guests to be picked up were from cruise ships – the Princess Line and the Holland America Line maintain their own hotels just up the road at a busy, very tourist-oriented center with lots of shops and fast food restaurants. A group of Windstar people arrived and were being given their instructions when our tour bus drove up, stopping in front of AdventureMan and I. We got on, and sat a few rows back from the front.
AdventureMan said “This is a Blue Bird bus!” We used to see them all over Doha, old school buses with names of American schools in cities that had long since updated their buses. It was not roomy or luxurious, but it was heated and had windows that you could pull down when we spotted bear, or moose, or other game.
Our guide, Mike, was excellent. Without sounding the least bit authoritarian, he laid down some routines which would make our next few hours together more civilized – he formed us into a working team.
“If you see something,” Mike said, “Yell ‘STOP!’ and I will stop. Don’t yell ‘BEAR!’ or anything else, just yell “STOP.” Then he explained about the clock system of pointing out a location, like twelve is the front of the bus and three is 90 degrees to the right, etc.
“And even if it turns out to be just a log in the field and you think it’s a bear, yell STOP! Don’t be embarrassed if it’s just a big rock or something, that just happens. If we all work at spotting, we’ll have a great day.”
And he was right. The people on the bus went up and down, and we spotted. It was a grand day.
I probably should tell you that it was a cloudy day, and then we had some heavy showers, and then we had an hour or so of snow. Truly! And between all that, we had some great game sighting, and heard some wonderful stories of the founding of Denali Park, and even had a Ranger get on the bus briefly and quote from a poem by a poet named Abby, a poem about the magical transformation we experience surrounded by the natural world. It was a lovely moment.
One of the funniest things that happened right off the top was one of the Windstar passengers talking about the hotel he had stayed in in Anchorage coming in a day before meeting up with his cruise.
“It looked good on paper,” he said. “It had all the bells and whistles, on paper,” he said. “But it was like a Motel 6 that was really a Motel 3.” I laughed along with everyone else, very happy that I was not the only one horrified by the hotel I had chosen in Anchorage.
Even before we entered the park, we saw a Mama Moose and her baby, and then another Moose. We stopped for photos for the first, but not the second, as it was on the railway tracks and Mike did not want to stop on the tracks, as there are trains arriving in Denali all the time.
Soon after, we saw Ptarmigan, the Alaska state bird, and little rabbits, and then, out sleeping in the tundra, a Mama Bear and her cub, maybe a year old. Mike had special equipment, a large camera connected to monitors throughout the bus, so even those not on the left side of the bus (us) could see the bear. We thought it was one big bear until the cub raised its head. Mike was also very patient every time we saw something, we could spend a lot of time until everyone was able to take photos, and the group worked together very politely.
Finally we reached a potty stop, with lots of potties, but thanks to Mike, we were the first bus to arrive, and even as we were walking to the potties, other buses, many many buses, began pulling up. We ran into some people we had met at the Mt. Denali North Overview, and had a delightful, if short, reunion before having to reboard our separate buses to continue our tours.
More bear. Dall Sheep. Ground squirrels, which Mike described as “Denali fast food for bears.”
I had no idea! Because tundra is a thin layer of soil atop permanently frozen soil, bear eat a lot of roots (we saw them digging furiously for roots) until berries and nuts begin to ripen. A bear will eat about 200,000 berries a day. But their most efficient protein is ground squirrel.
At the turn around point, a raven’s nest on the support of the bridge we had just crossed. We got out and stretched and walked at every opportunity – it is a long tour.
On the way back, more bear, and this time, they walked right up to the bus and alongside without seeming to be aware we were there.
And a fox! I didn’t think I had caught him; he moved so fast. It wasn’t until I uploaded my photos that I saw I had captured him:
I did tell you, didn’t I, that it was snowing once we got to the second set of bear, and the Dall’s sheep?
The raven’s nest on the bridge at Mile 43, where we turned around. The white stuff is snowflakes falling.
All in all, it was a lovely day, a great wilderness tour, and a lot of fun. We were bundled up, and we had heat in the bus, but we had so much fun we forgot it was drizzly for a short while, and then we also had snow. It was more than six hours before we got back to the drop-off point and back to our cabin. It was a long, exciting day.
Time for a nap. After a day so full of learning, exploration and the excitement of spotting different game, we needed quiet time just to soak it all in.
We had dinner at the Denali Park Village, and it was a combination of the divine and the ridiculous. I ordered the Halibut, and it was really good. It had a crisp, tasty coating, as cooked perfectly, and had a delicious sauce. It was served on a bed of wild rice, and had corn and peas with it – simple and simply delicious.
AdventureMan ordered a charcuterie platter, and when it came, his face couldn’t hide his dismay. He just laughed. His first charcuterie board ever was at the Lake Restaurant in Glacier National Park, where the server showed him which was elk, which was venison, and which was wild boar – all locally sourced and processed. Even the mustard was local, with local jams, fruits; it was an abundance of delicious flavors and textures – at the Lake Lodge. At Denali, he had expected something with Alaska specialties. Not at Denali Park Village.
What he was served on this night was the equivalent of Ritz Crackers and store bought cheddar cheese, something that approximated blue cheese and supermarket cold cuts. Worse, the meats were very fatty. It had some really nice grapes, lots of grapes.
We laugh at things others might not find funny. We laughed at that dismal charcuterie board. I shared my halibut with AdventureMan. The halibut was really good.
We had gotten chilled on the Wilderness Tour, and even with the fireplace and the radiator, we couldn’t seem to get warm enough. We took hot showers, piled on every blanket, and snuggled under them until we fell asleep. We slept wonderfully.
Other Than That, Mrs. Lincoln, How was the Play?
That’s the punch line of a really bad joke, and it came to mind today as my good friend from Michigan was asking me, after a long conversation about the current disasterous state of events in our country, how AdventureMan and I are getting through the cold days in Pensacola.
Honestly, the weather is glorious. AdventureMan is busy keeping the bird feeders full (he calls them the squirrel feeders) and breaking the ice in our water barrels. The skies are clear and the stars bright and sparkly when the sun goes down.
It IS cold.We are having waves of cold weather, with a little warming in between. Because it goes below freezing frequently, we’ve got our more fragile plants covered, including 2 avocado trees I’ve grown from pits, that are over 10 feet tall 😊. My roses are the first plants I cover; I brought them with me from our former house. They are white, pure white, with a little bit of pink in the center, only visible when they are first blooming. I try to take good care of these roses! We also cover our plumbago, which grows well in this part of Florida.
“And what are you cooking?” my friend asks, she who made a huge frost covered cake to celebrate the storm in Michigan.
“Pork with Apples and Onions,” I replied, “And an Autumn Plum Torte only with peaches, which turned out to have all the taste of sugar, butter, and flour.” I should have known that the peaches I bought in January would not have much flavor.
The weather will dip even further starting Friday, so I am cooking up a big pot of chili tomorrow.
Win, Seahawks, Win!
Important to know, and one of today’s most highly asked questions: Is a Seahawk a real bird? And the answer is: YES! A Seahawk
is another word for Osprey!
Now you Know!
Win, Seahawks, Win!
Waiting for Snow
Lest you think I sit around between trips finding things to rant about, I will share my Saturday with you.
I am religious. I am a believer. LOL, here is where Catholics and Muslims have something in common – when I say “I am a believer” my Catholic friends think I am Catholic, and my Muslim friends think I am Muslim. Sooner or later we get it all figured out. I believe in a Great Creator, without whom nothing was created, and who is magnificent beyone our ability to understand. I believe he cares about us on an individual basis, and that he wants only good for all of us, whether we agree or not. I do not understand why he gave us all free will, and I know it would be a terrible world without it. I believe God is infinitely merciful.
So in the midst of some of the political horrors of January, I texted a friend and said “I need a meet-up.” We met up this morning at a local cafe and hashed out our lives, just normal stuff, families, husbands, children, and what we CAN do to make a difference. I have a friend from high school, and a friend from college, and friends from almost every post where we lived. We don’t always see one another, but when we need a good connection, we get on the phone – yeh, old school – and it’s like we’ve never been apart. When I need to re-balance, when my emotions are unmanageable, my friends help me recenter. Thanks be to God. At the cafe, I also saw another old friend, of a different political persuasion, and we were delighted to see one another, reminding me that our current differences are temporary, and mendable.
I arrived back home to the aroma of garlic and peppers sautéing; AdventureMan is making beans! We have been informed it MIGHT snow tonight, it is hovering just above and below freezing and a big pot of beans is a perfect hot weather meal.
Birds on the Bayou are chowing down, the fish must be running. We have pelicans plunging, an eagle chasing off a hawk, a cormorant and a heron.
Last year, almost this same time of year, we got several inches of snow. In previous years, I have seen a flake of snow here and there, but last year was a special confluence of factors – humidity, cold, polar vortex and a series of cold dry days in which the snow first fell, and then stuck around. It was like wiping away all the bad, a clean, clear new earth, few cars driving, lots of walking and lots of playing. Maybe we all need to play a little more. Pensacolians love a good snow, and it doesn’t stick around long enough to get old.
Our house is warm, we have a big pot of beans cooking, we have friends, I’ve recovered all my lost-for-a-very-short-time passwords and life is sweet. May you be equally blessed; may all your problems be little ones.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Revisiting Life in Tunis
Sunrise getting close to Tunis.
You may be a little hazy on where Tunisia is:
We recognize Carthage and Sidi Bou Said, but everything is so much more built up.
Saint Louis Cathedral up on the hill, we remember. Oh wow, Wikipedia tells me it is no longer a cathedral: Since 1993, the cathedral has been known as the “Acropolium”. It is no longer used for worship, but instead hosts public events or concerts of Tunisian music and classical music. Currently, the only Roman Catholic cathedral operating in Tunisia is the Cathedral of St. Vincent de Paul in Tunis.[1] Hunh. Acropolium.
We had exactly the day we needed in Tunis, thanks to this fine man, Noureddine Boukari. We found him through Tours by Locals, and he corresponded with us to determine exactly what we wanted to see and experience in our precious few hours in Tunis.
He was there to pick us up as we exited the boat. He took us directly downtown, along Habib Bourgiba to the Central Market and the souks as they were opening. It was a great beginning; the Central Market hasn’t changed much in forty years; people can still find the freshest fish and local vegetables as they do their daily shopping.
LOL this thrilled my heart!
This was so much fun for me – probably because as a young wife, shopping for food was challenging at first – buying by weight in the markets, always carrying our own bags to put our vegetables in. I have so many hilarious stories, mostly because I was so ignorant, and had to learn new ways.
Noureddine introduced us to friends who were shopkeepers, and they had a great time talking with AdventureMan.
As I type this up, I hear the words in French and Arabic for eggs, parsley, pumpkins – it comes roaring back, words I haven’t used in a while.
And we head for the souks, which are just opening. The whole medina area is SO clean now!
The Hotel Royal Victoria on the right used to be the British Embassy a long time ago, right at the main entry to the souks.
I didn’t do a lot of shopping on this trip, but I found in these souks a beautiful silk scarf hand woven in Mahdia for my daughter-in-law and a huge red sefsari in the old pattern for the woman who stays in our house and cares for the cats while we are gone, and who, like me, loves textiles.
These date pastries/cookies are so delicious. Noureddine is taking a box to his family.
Our chariot awaits. We drive around Tunis and arrive at the Bardo just as all the tour groups are leaving. Noureddine leads us through the centuries of mosaics. The Bardo is more beautiful and more organized than it was all those years ago.
The Bardo itself is a former palace. Now it holds priceless mosaics taken from ruins of houses built throughout Tunisian history (Tunis, Carthage, Dougga, Kairoan, Djerba – it is impressive.)
The imagination and the execution of the work is exquisite.
Below is an intricate ceiling.
View of Tunis from the Bardo Palace.
A treasure discovered with hundreds of gold coins and one silver coin (at the bottom).
Ancient Punic Gods. Some are really hideous.
This is the house where once we lived, but not in this house, in the house that used to be there. I am glad Noureddine found the address, but it is not the house where we lived. But it IS on the way to Carthage and Sidi Bou Said, and to a delightful lunch of bric, and couscous.
Brik!
Fresh fish, which Noureddine skilfully deboned for us.
Vegetable couscous. I’ve never tasted carrots as delicious as those grown in Tunisia.
We have a lovely walk around Sidi Bou Said before heading back to the ship.
On return to the Viking Saturn, as instructed, we had our shore passes out and ready to give to the official collecting them. But there was no official collecting them! No one was collecting them! We still have them! Just in case.
The sun is setting over Tunis.
As we sail away, a flock of gulls trail us, hoping for a hand out!
Just in case you are, like me a map person, this is a general idea of the route we took today:
And Now I Can Relax
The last event is over. Christmas has been decorated and celebrated, we have feasted, we have opened gifts. It is Christmas Day, we are just home again from a wonderful morning with our son, his wife, and our grandchildren. It has all been exhilarating. I am exhausted from interacting with people I love. I am relishing the mid-afternoon Christmas Day silence.
AdventureMan is in charge of dinner for tonight, and he is excited about the preparations. I am excited about what he has chosen and equally excited that I am totally off duty.
You may have guessed by now that as well as being introverted, I am also very mildly OCD. The gifts I look forward to the very most are my annual calendars; one for the quilt workshop, one for my bathroom and one for the kitchen. Even with three calendars, there are times I get busy thinking about something – a project I am working on, an obligation I need to fulfill, a problem that needs resolving, or even, to my shame, a book that engages me so entirely that the real world flies out the window.
Even with three calendars to remind me, there are occasions when I space out, don’t show up where I have promised, and face the consequences, not the least of which is beating myself up.
With my first minutes of spare time, I opened my new calendars and transferred all my current appointments and obligations to the new year. Hope springs eternal that I can keep myself organized, on track and faithful to my commitments.
One of the moments of delight in my day today was seeing my granddaughter organize her 60 shiny new Scrunchies by colors, and within the colors, by shades. She did it beautifully, sensitive to distinctions between shades and tints and color groups, exactly as I recently did with my quilting fabric collection. Sometimes a little bit of OCD is productive. There is something so satisfying about colors arranged just right.
Another thrill, on this beautiful Christmas Day, was seeing an American Bald Eagle soar past our window headed for a tree on the Bayou. We see him now and then, but not so often that the sight becomes common, and fails to thrill.
AdventureMan just checked in, ready to nap. He said “Oh! I forgot I am on duty for tonight!” and I said no, not if he didn’t want to be. This is a day to relax and to be happy. He can take a pass, fix the duck breasts tomorrow, or the next day. We have plenty in the refrigerator to feast upon, and we can cut ourselves some slack. It’s been a complicated month, full of turmoil and uncertainty, and it’s ending well. Giving ourselves time to breathe when we can is a good thing.
I hate to think that seeking peace over excitement means I must be old. There are times in my life when I couldn’t bear the boredom and needed to fill my days with events and activities. Even now, I prefer my life to have points of interest and unpredictability; it keeps things interesting. Then again, after a month of uncertainty and unpredictability, of COVID infections among those I love, and projects where we were reliant on others to meet our needs, a month with an unexpected death and ceremonial duties, a month when I couldn’t swim, one small day of peace and reflection is not such a bad thing.
Avian Thrills
I wish I had photos to show you, but there are moments where if you run for the camera, you miss the moment. I’ve had three moments in the last week that thrilled my heart.
A week ago, after a big storm, as I pushed open the curtains I saw hundreds of pelicans, swooping and circling just in front of the house across the street on the Bayou. Normally, pelicans fly all sort of relaxed and then, suddenly, plunge into the water for a fish, but this time, they seemed agitated, and there were a lot of them. I watched, and after a while I saw there was a big flock of ducks on the water, and the pelicans (I am speculating here) did not want the ducks there. So they were swooping the ducks and swooping and swooping, and eventually, the ducks got rattled and flew away.
Four days ago, as I stepped out the door, a huge bird flew over my head to a nearby tree, carrying a fish. I signaled to AdventureMan to come out and see; he thought it was an eagle, and after watching him tear at the fish (never dropping it, skillfully done) I agreed. He didn’t seem to mind us observing. That was very cool.
This morning, as I stepped out to feed our outdoor cat, Emile, I heard a very loud “Who-who-who-who-WHOOOOOOOH!” It was so loud I jumped a little when it started, and then realizing it was a big owl in our little backyard forest, I just stopped and enjoyed the rest of it. I love the sound of owls, and I grinned, thinking of a little owl we used to hear in Botswana, I can’t remember the name (Pell’s Fishing Owl? Pearl Spotted Owl?) but we secretly called it the orgasm owl because it’s call was very long, starting with like who-who-who-who-whow-Whow WHow WHOw WHOW WHOW! WHOW!! WHOW!!!!! And after that huge crescendo, it would go quiet for a while . . . and then start up again. It never failed to make me grin.
Thousands of Ducks in Saint Marks National Wildlife Refuge
It’s an easy drive from Apalachicola, and we also have an agenda; we remember a particularly good barbecue restaurant not far from Saint Marks.
The drive is beautiful. It is still early, but getting toward mid-morning, so it is warming up. We are dressed for the cold; it is also windy so the chill just goes right through your clothes. You have to have a lot of clothes, in layers, or you are too cold to walk.
We stop on the way so I can take a photo.
As I step out of the car, and start walking on the grassy roadside toward the bulkhead, I suddenly step into a deep hole. The grass is just a cover, and the ground underneath is eroding. I managed to stay upright, but it was awkward.
That’s where I stepped.
Saint Marks had a couple heron, an egret here and there, a couple pelican, the St. Mark’s lighthouse, and a million ducks. If you have never read Jeff Vandermeer’s Southern Reach Book Series, this is the area and lighthouse I picture when we first enter the alternate world in Annihilation.
We walked a couple miles around the various ponds, and it is hard to envision just how many ducks there are in this protected area.
We found gardens of these empty oyster shells; they were beautiful.
We are happy with our walk, but we are cold, and we are getting hungry! On the way into the park, we passed the BBQ restaurant and it is open. Off we go.
Early Morning Walk in Apalachicola
We’ve been married almost 48 years, so AdventureMan and I know how to travel together with minimal friction. We are not alike, but we are flexible (unless, of course, we are tired, or hungry, or need a nap, and then all bets are off.)
We are on holiday. AdventureMan likes to sleep in. I am an early morning creature; I don’t even need an alarm, I just wake up. I can see the fragile pink of the early morning sky and I can’t wait to get outside and take a walk.
Have I told you lately how much I like pelikans? These ancient birds remind me of pterodactyls, beaky, angular, survivalists.
Colonial mansion, we toured it once.
A beautiful sunrise, and bringing a cold but clear and sunny day, great for heading to Saint Mark’s Wildlife Refuge near Wakulla Springs.
Sometimes my camera captures something spectacular and I am humbly in awe; I didn’t make this happen, it just happened.
Time for my coffee 🙂
“Do You Want to Reserve for Friday night?”
I was so excited. We are headed out, our first trip since February when we took our grandchildren back to New Orleans, as we so often did until March and the advent of COVID. We’ve sold our big house, are comfortably settled in our smaller house, and I am SO ready to resume a more normal life.
I had just finished telling AdventureMan about a restaurant in a hotel we have visited several times, but we’ve never stayed in nor eaten in. The menu looks fabulous! (The Franklin in the Gibson Inn, Apalachicola). He looked at me over his reader glasses, lovingly – and sadly.
“”So do you think everyone will be masked and socially distanced?” he asked me.
“Oh,” I responded. Deflated. Sometimes, for a short while, I can totally forget the new reality of masks and social distancing, and not eating in restaurants.
We decided that as we will be staying in a lovely place with condo conveniences, we can order out. It won’t be the same, but the food will be good, we can store our leftovers in a refrigerator, and we can be safe.
Sigh.
I’m still excited. Apalachicola is beautiful, and the hotel where we stay (The Water Street Hotel) is right on the estuary. There are screened balconies where, even in this chilly weather, we can sit out and watch the heron, and fishing birds, and watch the boats stream by. We can head out to St. Marks, famous for the large flights of migratory birds at this time of the year.
It will be cold. It will also be beautiful, and it will be relatively deserted, safe from those globs of corona virus floating around where human beings breathe. We can walk to our hearts content. I can take pictures.
We like birds. We are enthralled with their beauty. It gives me a happy jolt every time I see, from my little house, a pelican, or a stork, or an eagle, or a red shouldered hawk. No, we are not birders. We like birders, but cannot begin to generate their endless enthusiasm and capability for detailed observation. We just sit back and enjoy the moment.
Apalachicola is a very old Florida town, once famous for it’s timber, and once famous for it’s oysters. The recent hurricane activity has wiped out the tasty Apalachicola oysters, at least for the next few years, and has greatly wiped out the economy of Apalachicola. We look forward to lifting that economy, as best we can, with our visit, and we encourage you to do the same.
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