7/6/14
Copper Center, Alaska
“Yukon Complete. All three
Canadian Territories Complete. The first
of my 17 goals complete.” With those
words uttered to my best friend, holidng more meaning than anyone could
possibly know without reading this Travelogue, I said to myself, “1 down, 16 to
go.” Readers of my Travelogue have asked
me just what those 17 goals, are I have said that, while I may allude to or
mention in passing some of them, I will only properly reveal them as they are
completed. One of my seventeen goals was
to visit all 3 Canadian Territories. I
have done that. The fact that I have
Completed them serves another goal, but it was not necessary to say Complete to
check off the goal. Each of the three
northern territories I have loved more than the last, from NWT to Nunavut to
The Yukon. They each had their own unique
charm. I loved Yellowknife and Iqaluit
and Whitehorse, each of them wonderful slices of Northern life. I loved Wood Buffalo NP, Nahanni NP&RoC,
and Kluane NP&RoC were each more wonderful than the last as well, and I got
plaques at each. There is absolutely no
need to return to any of these territories again, but I sure as hell want to.
The reinstall of Office worked, and I was able to upload my Travelogue
properly. The alternative would have
been bad, really bad. We got a slow
start today, and the fault can be assigned to both of us. When Sokol dawdles, I tend to do the
same. The limiting reactant was the VC
opening at 9 AM, and I had pretty much turned the day into a Munich Run to get
the stamp at Slana RS while leaving open the possibility of maybe getting the
plaque at the Copper Center VC. When I
travel alone, I can get out the door in 15 minutes after my alarm. I bet Sokol could do the same if he was on
his own. Somehow it takes us over an
hour together. It is like that
travelling with anyone. I’m not quite
sure the mechanics of it, but the basics is that we cannot work in perfect
harmony. I forget something, and then he
forgets something. We don’t both forget
something at the same time. It was the
difference between doing two hikes along the Haines Highway or one hike. It would not be the difference in getting to
Slana on time. We stopped at Tim
Horton’s for breakfast, which took longer that it should have. If I was travelling alone, I would have just
gotten something to go and eaten it while I drove. We had trouble getting gas, both finding a
place that was open and my card not working.
Eventually we did, also getting some supplies for the road. We made up a lot of the lost time on the
road, again pretending the speed limit was in mph and not km/h, and I had one
of my Davidoffs on the way. I knew that
I would have time to take pictures at the plaque and finish my Cuban before the
VC opened, but I also knew that, instead of two longer hikes, we would only
have one medium hike.
Our first stop was
the plaque, and what a plaque it was.
Canada knows how to treat their plaques property. The one in Quebec is at the center of the
city, and they practically design a whole plaza around the damn thing. Wood Buffalo NP has it prominently displayed
at a scenic overlook, while the one at Nahanni NP&RoC is not quite as
scenic but is along the trail to the waterfall.
This one put those to shame. The
overlook was one of the most beautiful sites I had ever seen, and they put the
plaque right there. The NPS could learn
a lesson. Sokol asked me why that was,
and I told him the truth. Our National
Park Service is unmatched. It is the
best in the world, and people take trips just to see National Parks, so they do
not feel the WHS designation is enough of an added draw to treat it properly,
not to mention tin foil hats scared about UN takeover of American land. We properly honored the plaque by taking our
first official Us in the park in the grass behind it and then taking copious
pictures. I lit up a Saint Luis Rey Asia
Pacifico Exclusivo and then made the announcement that opened this entry. It was a great cigar for a great plaque.
We got back in the car and headed to Rock
Glacier Trail for our hike. It was a
rocky trail that consisted of the rocks left behind from an extinct
glacier. When we got to the top of the
trail, right back on schedule, we sat down to take some pictures, relax, and
enjoy the view. I cannot imagine how any
WHS could compete with Kluane NP&RoC, but I know that Wrangell-St. Elias
NP&Pres will be even more amazing.
We headed back down, and I announced that I needed to take my second
official U of the park, so I walked back up the trail to do so. When I was approaching the parking lot, I
announced how epic the official U was, but I didn’t hear a response. Then I noticed the car was gone. If Sokol hadn’t pulled the same prank at
Great Basin NP, I might have been worried, but I knew him. I ditched my cigar outside the VC, arriving
right at 9 AM.
I was so excited for the VC. While they would not have Stamps, they would have a brochure and a gift shop. The gift shop was closed for another hour. Waiting for it to open would mean risking missing Slana, and I could not leave without a Kluane souvenir. Then I noticed that it was a gift shop for the cultural center not for Kluane NP&RoC. I walked over to the counter for Parks Canada, and I was greeted by a park ranger even more beautiful than the one I had fallen in love with at Wood Buffalo NP. Sokol once asked me why I am so attracted to park rangers. I told him it was quite simple: they have access to the Stamps. In Canada, there are no Stamps, but that does not make them any less attractive. I think I just love Canadian women because I so love Canada. It has to do with the implied emotional attraction theory. I took a shot, and I asked her if she had any souvenirs. Anything I could put on my dresser would work. They had pins that said Kluane. It was exactly what I wanted, the single most perfect souvenir, so I gave her the amount in American money, telling her to keep the difference when she tried to make change. That pin was worth an order of magnitude, maybe two orders of magnitude, more than what I paid. I asked her about the distances for the rest of our journey, and she confidently quoted times much less than I had estimated.
We were now ahead of
schedule. There was only one road to the
border, and all the stops were along it, so I didn’t bother with the GPS. In fact, I am challenging myself do the whole
trip, well Phases 1 and 2, without the GPS.
Our first stop was the Tachal Dahl (Dall Sheep) VC. The ranger there gave us some advice on an
unmarked trail to see the glacial valley.
It involved a very bad service road, and we weren’t sure we were even
going the right direction, but we found the trail, lighting up Black Markets
for the walk, and taking our third official Us along the trail, Sokol having
taken his second official U at the VC. After
the trail and having seeing one of the famous Dall Sheep, our next stop was a km up the Alcan at the point where the Alcan
originally began. It was a steep trail
up to an overlook, and I knew we would not make it the whole way, but we found
a nice place to stop and look over the highway.
We ditched our cigars right before we got in the car, and that was
that. We were done with the park. It was a straight shot on the Alcan to border
and then one turn onto the Richardson Highway to get to Slana. We would only stop for gas and food, which we
would do as quickly as possible.
We were right on track, and it was looking like we might even have time for the plaque. That posed a problem, being so ahead of the original schedule, we would now have about 8 hours to kill, and I didn’t think we had 8 hours of hiking in us. I also knew that I would not enjoy Wrangell as much without sleeping in a bed. We stopped for gas, and I got a burger to go, scarfing it down as I walked back to the car. Down the road, we saw a black bear alongside the highway, and other people were stopping to take pictures, far closer than could be wise, but Sokol said I should try to take a picture cuddling the bear. I walked as close to the bear as I felt safe and took a selfie. Then I noticed that bear was getting much bigger in the frame. I turned around. It was walking towards me. I quickly walked to the car without running. I could have started running and told Sokol that I just needed to outrun him. I got to the car before the bear did, and we were back on the road, laughing about how epic it was. That was when we hit the construction, which set us back half an hour, but I had a Puro Sangre to keep me sane. We were now looking at a Munich Run to the Slana, and the plaque was out of the question. Fortunately, I figured we could take our time in Copper Center and then make our way into the park at a leisurely pace. It was about 20 miles to the border when I saw something that was clearly a border checkpoint on the opposite side of the road. I didn’t get it. How could Canadian BSA be 30 kilometers from US CBP? It was.
We then got to the 141st Meridian,
and there was a beautiful Welcome to Alaska sign, along with a view of the
border, the world’s longest unfortified border, just a clearing cut into the
trees, as far as the eye could see. We
considered taking our last official Us in the Yukon, but there were a couple of
other people around, and I commented that I did not want to get arrested for
defiling the border. We took a bunch of
pictures instead, and I felt a twinge of something looking down the border
along that clearing. There was something
beautiful about it, such peace between two countries. The official border crossing was just up the
road, and, by the time we had finished taking pictures, the last car from the
caravan we had been stuck behind due to the construction was going through. We didn’t lose any time from the stop. The guy asked us the purpose of our
visit? Sightseeing in Alaska. Sightseeing?
Tourism. Okay. Then, another guy came and asked what was in
Sokol’s hands. Apparently his DAT
flashcards, which he had been using to test me on college chemistry, looked
like foreign visa cards. We all got a
big kick out of it, and then we got our passports back and were on our
way. We both had to U at the point, and
I wanted to fill up at the next chance.
We saw a gas station soon thereafter, but we weren’t sure if we wanted
our first Us back in Alaska to be unofficial Us. Fortunately, there was a woods behind the gas
station, and we realized that if we went into the woods instead of using the
outhouse at the gas station, we could count them as official Us, so we did that.
My calculations had shown 90 miles to the Tok Junction and maybe another 30 miles to Slana. It shouldn’t have taken more than an hour and a half, which meant we would be there at 4:30 PM. That’s when it started to rain, which slowed us down a bit, but it was still looking good. When we turned onto the Richardson Highway at Tok Junction, still navigating the old fashioned way, it looked like it would be 75 miles to Slana, not 30 miles. It would be a true Munich Run. Fortunately, we found ourselves behind a car that was constantly doing 90, but it was raining, and his lights were not on, so it was hard to see him. At we one point we even broke 100 again (the first time being the first straightaway we found past the border), just trying to keep up with him. The actual distance was more like 50 miles, and we soon found ourselves at the turnoff for Stana. We got to the VC, technically a ranger station, at 4:45 PM. They had a brochure for all the parks of Alaska. I knew that I had already missed the Glacier Bay stamp on that brochure, but I decided to start one for the rest. I grilled the ranger about all of over available options. The park was open 24/7? It was. 24 hours of daylight? Not in this weather.
Our plan was shot, and we decided we would need to spend the night in Copper Center. She recommended the Princess Lodge. I did my stamping and got a pin and keychain. I knew that I would want my official pin to come from Copper Center, the home of the plaque, but I got it just in case. I would also do my WHS stamping there. As we drove, I realized that this plan was even better than the 2 AM hiking plan. I would get the Copper Center dateline, and we would start our day at the Plaque. We would also now have two full days in the park, both nights fully rested. Sokol called the Princess Lodge to make a reservation, and I was a little surprised that they had a room, since, when I had tried to get a room a week or so ago, they were sold out. Sokol said the hotel was off the Airport Highway, which didn’t make sense, either. Again, navigating the old fashioned way, we found the hotel. We went to check in. They didn’t have our reservation, and they were completely sold out. Sokol said that he spoke to a Brenda. There was no Brenda there. They had said on the phone there was a bar and grill and two restaurants. That was not the case. It turned out he had called the Princess Lodge in Cooper Landing, seven hours away from Copper Center. Understanding our plight, they frantically called around trying to find us a hotel nearby. Everything was sold out, except for these cabins in town. It was half the price, and I love staying in cabins when I visit a WHS. To boot, it was right in town, and there was a restaurant nearby.
We went to the cabins. When we checked in, the guy said that we were the only people here for the night. That was weird. Everything else around was sold out, and this was empty. What was wrong with these cabins? It didn’t matter. It was had to be better than sleeping in the car. We looked at the room and, deeming it perfectly decent, went to the restaurant. They had a very limited menu with nothing that was really on my diet. I then looked over to the table next to me and saw someone eating a huge steak. I asked the waitress what he had ordered? Prime rib. Could I get that? “He’s part of the crew and eats here every night.” Sokol and I looked at each other in total confusion. There was a reindeer sausage sandwich on the menu. I asked if I could just get a big plate of reindeer sausage with melted cheese? She couldn’t do that. She could just give me the regular amount that would go on the sandwich. I got that. During the 30 minutes that it took for our food to come, I got increasingly frustrated and angry. I was starving, and this was taking too long. We seriously considered just walking out, but there was nowhere else to eat in town. In the end, the meal was perfect, and it was plenty of food. The price was reasonable enough, as well.
After dinner, we headed back to the cabin. I decided that I would have a pipe, but there was a smoke detector, and the room was too small to risk it. We went outside, and Sokol asked if I had another pipe instead of his cigar. Since my pouch holds two, I offered him the other one, me smoking the Ardor, him the Ser Jacopo. I got us some beers and the Wi-Fi code. I proceeded to write this entry, and we started to smoke outside, but, between the bugs, the rain, and the wind, it was too bad, so Sokol covered up the smoke detector, and we went back to the room. I finished the entry while I smoked the pipe, us getting a kick out of the jokes that no one else understands. Best friends, just like brothers, develop their own language. It’s not necessarily a secret language, just one that is used out convenience and humor. I will now close so that I can publish this, upload my photos, and pass out before we begin Phase 1C of the trip. Phase 1B Complete.
I was so excited for the VC. While they would not have Stamps, they would have a brochure and a gift shop. The gift shop was closed for another hour. Waiting for it to open would mean risking missing Slana, and I could not leave without a Kluane souvenir. Then I noticed that it was a gift shop for the cultural center not for Kluane NP&RoC. I walked over to the counter for Parks Canada, and I was greeted by a park ranger even more beautiful than the one I had fallen in love with at Wood Buffalo NP. Sokol once asked me why I am so attracted to park rangers. I told him it was quite simple: they have access to the Stamps. In Canada, there are no Stamps, but that does not make them any less attractive. I think I just love Canadian women because I so love Canada. It has to do with the implied emotional attraction theory. I took a shot, and I asked her if she had any souvenirs. Anything I could put on my dresser would work. They had pins that said Kluane. It was exactly what I wanted, the single most perfect souvenir, so I gave her the amount in American money, telling her to keep the difference when she tried to make change. That pin was worth an order of magnitude, maybe two orders of magnitude, more than what I paid. I asked her about the distances for the rest of our journey, and she confidently quoted times much less than I had estimated.
We were right on track, and it was looking like we might even have time for the plaque. That posed a problem, being so ahead of the original schedule, we would now have about 8 hours to kill, and I didn’t think we had 8 hours of hiking in us. I also knew that I would not enjoy Wrangell as much without sleeping in a bed. We stopped for gas, and I got a burger to go, scarfing it down as I walked back to the car. Down the road, we saw a black bear alongside the highway, and other people were stopping to take pictures, far closer than could be wise, but Sokol said I should try to take a picture cuddling the bear. I walked as close to the bear as I felt safe and took a selfie. Then I noticed that bear was getting much bigger in the frame. I turned around. It was walking towards me. I quickly walked to the car without running. I could have started running and told Sokol that I just needed to outrun him. I got to the car before the bear did, and we were back on the road, laughing about how epic it was. That was when we hit the construction, which set us back half an hour, but I had a Puro Sangre to keep me sane. We were now looking at a Munich Run to the Slana, and the plaque was out of the question. Fortunately, I figured we could take our time in Copper Center and then make our way into the park at a leisurely pace. It was about 20 miles to the border when I saw something that was clearly a border checkpoint on the opposite side of the road. I didn’t get it. How could Canadian BSA be 30 kilometers from US CBP? It was.
My calculations had shown 90 miles to the Tok Junction and maybe another 30 miles to Slana. It shouldn’t have taken more than an hour and a half, which meant we would be there at 4:30 PM. That’s when it started to rain, which slowed us down a bit, but it was still looking good. When we turned onto the Richardson Highway at Tok Junction, still navigating the old fashioned way, it looked like it would be 75 miles to Slana, not 30 miles. It would be a true Munich Run. Fortunately, we found ourselves behind a car that was constantly doing 90, but it was raining, and his lights were not on, so it was hard to see him. At we one point we even broke 100 again (the first time being the first straightaway we found past the border), just trying to keep up with him. The actual distance was more like 50 miles, and we soon found ourselves at the turnoff for Stana. We got to the VC, technically a ranger station, at 4:45 PM. They had a brochure for all the parks of Alaska. I knew that I had already missed the Glacier Bay stamp on that brochure, but I decided to start one for the rest. I grilled the ranger about all of over available options. The park was open 24/7? It was. 24 hours of daylight? Not in this weather.
Our plan was shot, and we decided we would need to spend the night in Copper Center. She recommended the Princess Lodge. I did my stamping and got a pin and keychain. I knew that I would want my official pin to come from Copper Center, the home of the plaque, but I got it just in case. I would also do my WHS stamping there. As we drove, I realized that this plan was even better than the 2 AM hiking plan. I would get the Copper Center dateline, and we would start our day at the Plaque. We would also now have two full days in the park, both nights fully rested. Sokol called the Princess Lodge to make a reservation, and I was a little surprised that they had a room, since, when I had tried to get a room a week or so ago, they were sold out. Sokol said the hotel was off the Airport Highway, which didn’t make sense, either. Again, navigating the old fashioned way, we found the hotel. We went to check in. They didn’t have our reservation, and they were completely sold out. Sokol said that he spoke to a Brenda. There was no Brenda there. They had said on the phone there was a bar and grill and two restaurants. That was not the case. It turned out he had called the Princess Lodge in Cooper Landing, seven hours away from Copper Center. Understanding our plight, they frantically called around trying to find us a hotel nearby. Everything was sold out, except for these cabins in town. It was half the price, and I love staying in cabins when I visit a WHS. To boot, it was right in town, and there was a restaurant nearby.
We went to the cabins. When we checked in, the guy said that we were the only people here for the night. That was weird. Everything else around was sold out, and this was empty. What was wrong with these cabins? It didn’t matter. It was had to be better than sleeping in the car. We looked at the room and, deeming it perfectly decent, went to the restaurant. They had a very limited menu with nothing that was really on my diet. I then looked over to the table next to me and saw someone eating a huge steak. I asked the waitress what he had ordered? Prime rib. Could I get that? “He’s part of the crew and eats here every night.” Sokol and I looked at each other in total confusion. There was a reindeer sausage sandwich on the menu. I asked if I could just get a big plate of reindeer sausage with melted cheese? She couldn’t do that. She could just give me the regular amount that would go on the sandwich. I got that. During the 30 minutes that it took for our food to come, I got increasingly frustrated and angry. I was starving, and this was taking too long. We seriously considered just walking out, but there was nowhere else to eat in town. In the end, the meal was perfect, and it was plenty of food. The price was reasonable enough, as well.
After dinner, we headed back to the cabin. I decided that I would have a pipe, but there was a smoke detector, and the room was too small to risk it. We went outside, and Sokol asked if I had another pipe instead of his cigar. Since my pouch holds two, I offered him the other one, me smoking the Ardor, him the Ser Jacopo. I got us some beers and the Wi-Fi code. I proceeded to write this entry, and we started to smoke outside, but, between the bugs, the rain, and the wind, it was too bad, so Sokol covered up the smoke detector, and we went back to the room. I finished the entry while I smoked the pipe, us getting a kick out of the jokes that no one else understands. Best friends, just like brothers, develop their own language. It’s not necessarily a secret language, just one that is used out convenience and humor. I will now close so that I can publish this, upload my photos, and pass out before we begin Phase 1C of the trip. Phase 1B Complete.
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