I set out from Anchorage at about 6AM on Thursday, with the ultimate goal of getting to Homer at the end of the day - I had reservations set up at Homer Spit Campground. My philosophy of vacation travel, especially when traveling alone, is to have a destination point, and a general idea of cool places to see or stop at, but no specific plans. I enjoy getting out of the car to take photos at picturesque areas, and to look at geology at the macro- and micro-scales.
My first signficant destination was the Begich-Boggs Visitor Center at Portage Glacier, about 30 miles south of Anchorage. I took about 2 hours to go the 30 miles... I stopped along the side of the road 4 times along Turnagain Arm, where the 30-foot tide was coming in. Unfortunately, my timing was wrong to see the 'tidal bore' near Beluga Point... when the tide comes in, it can start as a 4-foot high wall of water coming up the bay. Which reminds me of another tidal bore I met at a party once... he sort of crept up on you, and put you to sleep with conversation. Although I couldn't see the mountaintops through the misty clouds and occasional drizzle, I could tell that the area was downright pretty.
I also stopped to shoot a roll of film of people who were salmon fishing in one of the rivers... it was only a little different from shooting fish in a barrel... several dozen people lined up, in places nearly hip-to-hip, each in waders and fishing garb, and all casting into the stream - every minute someone would pull out a salmon. The fishing seemed too easy, but at the same time, somewhat exciting.
The majority of the trail was flat - it was only when I reached the terminal moraine that things got steep. Not that there was much of a trail at this point... in order to pass further, it was mostly (sharp) rock-hopping. I stopped and talked for about 10 minutes with a toothless elderly couple from North Dakota; they were taking 3 months with the kids and grandchildren and touring the north in their RV. They had already driven to the Arctic Circle, and were on their way back south.
As I continued on, the drizzle got worse, making the rocks slippery for a stretch... it was still manageable, though. An Oregonian who worked for Intel caught up to me on the steeps, and we talked geology during the last 200 yards of hard incline to fresh ice. The lucky bastard was on a paid sabattical from Intel - he'd put in 7 years, and gets a 2-month vacation. The geology was cool... the bottom of the glacier was covered in debris - even though we were 'on ice' there you wouldn't know it unless you were a geologist (luckily, I am). We got to fresh, blue ice, and took pictures of each other standing on the crackling glass. We didn't see any ice worms, though... they are worms which are about the size of a pin, and live in the ice, feeding on pollen which lands nearby. The view back down into the valley was awesome, even in the damp weather.
I finished the hike around noon, and when I got back to the visitor center, the place was mobbed. Tour buses, campers, and a whole lot of people... much different from the sleepy little center it had been at 8:30. I wish that the moral of the story is that the early bird catches the iceworm, but alas, it wasn't so.
From Portage, I continued toward Homer, realizing that I still had 170 miles to drive. I only made two more signficant side trips on the way - I drove on Kalifonsky Beach Road, to the west of the town of Kenai, and I drove out to Anchor Point. K-Beach Road, as it's known, runs along the side of Cook Inlet, and according to two of my Alaska tour books, has great views of the volcanoes on the west side of the Inlet. Unfortunately, it was just foggy enough that I could only make out the top of Redoubt and Iliamna Volcanoes. The cliffs along the edge of the inlet were cool, though.
I also side-tripped to Anchor Point, a small village and park about 30 miles north of Homer. Anchor Point's claim to fame is that it is the westernmost road in North America which is contiguous with the national highway system. There's a sign there, and I took a picture of me, my rental car, and the ocean.
As the road leads down into Homer, there's a turnoff which overlooks Homer Spit, the 5-mile sand bar on which I was to be staying. A large sign indicates that Homer is the "Halibut Fishing Capital of the World." I was quite impressed, and took a picture just for the halibut (sorry!). Driving down the Spit Road, Homer reminded me a bit of Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket, with little gift shops and stores on the waterfront - slightly touristy, yet you knew that there are hearty people living there year-round.
I found my way to the Homer Spit Campground, where I had called for a reservation. Even though they had no record of the previous arrangements, I got a campsite on the beach, and set up my tent. Although I had driven through a heavy shower between Kenai and Anchor Point, the weather had cleared, and you could see the mountains to the east, across Kachemak Bay. Obviously, the mountains were the most striking difference between Homer and the New England coastline.
Cathy had recommended that I spend time at the Salty Dawg Saloon, located just up the street from the campground. This place was easily the coolest bar I've ever been in. The bar is a converted shack, with an interior of old burled wood, and cedar chips covering the floor. The most striking thing about the bar was the number of business cards, autographed dollar bills, and personal items thumb-tacked to the walls and ceiling. It seems that everyone who goes there leaves a momento behind... my expired AAA membership card and my voter registration card are now up there for all to see. I spent the evening at the bar, talking with Jim, a fisherguy from Wyoming, and several of his fish hippie friends. Jim looked (and smelled) like he hadn't showered in a week; I never would have guessed he's a pharmacist.
I left the bar at about 11:30 PM, and incredibly, it was still light out. Sunset had been at 10:30, and cars on the Spit Road hardly needed to have their headlights on. I walked back to the tent, and had a beautiful view of the full moon over Kachemak Bay.
I woke up at sunrise, around 5:30, but promptly fell back to sleep. After getting up at 9:30 and showering, I had breakfast at a local diner, and left for Seward.
| Main Page | Frontal Lobe | Table of Contents | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 |