Dear One and All,
Yesterday's trip into the heart of the Kennecott, St. Elias National Park, was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. (How many times am I going to say that!)?
Barton, Sarah and I left early in the afternoon to drive 60 miles back on a narrow dirt road. We came upon a Moose cow with her calf at about the 6 mile marker in a small lake with lots of forage. The sun was high and the light marvelous as our cameras sang away. The baby lunged clumsily through the water trying his best to get the hang of things, but probably hardly more than three weeks old, his efforts were comical at best; but mother stood patiently by proudly helping her new charge to learn how to get to the rich food at the bottom of this tiny lake.
The drive in from then on, except for really big potholes, was only eventful in the landscape department, but what scenery! The deeper we went into the park the more dramatic it became. We were traveling on a road that was built over the old railroad bed and our bridges were the hundred year old trestles perched high above rivers swollen with glacier melt.
Finally, we reached the last bridge before the restricted section of the park and walked across to be picked up by a shuttle run by a New Zealander. We went another five miles or so (still on dirt road) until we reached Kennecott, the old copper mine and the mighty glacier that flows by creating great heaves and pits in the landscape as the ice breaks up in three story building size chunks.
Barton went out to explore the ice and Sarah explored the little village that surrounds the mine while I interviewed Vicki Snitzler, the Planning and Events Officer for this vast park. She was a wealth of information. But, to keep it brief, this is the largest National Park in our country. It is larger than Switzerland and would fill New Hampshire and Rhode Island. It has six peaks in the top ten highest in the world and it is the home of the Trumpeter Swan and the Dalls Big Horn Sheep. We talked about the animals in the park and what has been impacting them. There has been an over population of Snowshoe Hare and the Lynx population has grown accordingly. Soon they will reduce the numbers of their favorite food and then their numbers will decline. Most of the big cats will not breed for a season or maybe even two if food becomes scarce. They seem to know instinctively that they will not have enough food for them to support cubs.
Vicki talked long and seriously about the effect of climate change in this park. The Trumpeter Swan nests in the tiny lakes and ponds scattered throughout the park. But, with things warming up, the lakes are shrinking and disappearing the Swans can't fly with their babies. If they are forced to move from a shrinking lake, they would be easy prey. This would have a profound effect on an animal that has just regained numbers enough to be no longer considered highly endangered. The trees are also suffering. The spruce are being attacked by pine beetles, these creatures have never traveled this far north before and are decimating the forest here; and an area that has never had fleas or ticks is now beginning to have fleas and ticks. The park biologists are deeply concerned, but I will learn more about that when I return here at the end of my trip to spend a few days to meet with the federal biologists with the reserve.
After a long and informative interview laced with video of the dramatic landscape and charming little village, I met back up with Barton and Sarah and we caught the shuttle back to the foot bridge and our jeep parked on the other side. Then we headed back down that long, dusty, rutted dirt road. We stopped to photograph a collapsing trestle and when we got back into the jeep, Barton spotted what he thought at first was a bear, but as we drove toward it we realized it was a giant black wolf trotting on the road ahead of us. Barton and Sarah, as patrons of the wolf, were suddenly enraptured with this experience. The very presence of this amazingly large wolf was breathtaking, but when it's your wolf, well, that's even better.
Needless to say, as we drove on headed for the end of our long dusty road, the energy in the jeep changed dramatically from a group of very tired, dirt road weary folks to three highly charged friends racing with conversation about our experience. Our return to the coach and Ken, who had stayed behind to take care of some much needed tasks, was filled with our stories and excitement from out day.
Today was not as dramatic from and animal standpoint, but, we actually went out and walked a Glacier. I got great footage of our experience, at least until Ken came and rescued the camera and headed for the Jeep for cover due to a major thunderstorm looming too close. Sarah injured her knee today at the Glacier (she has problems with rocks, they like to hurt her and seem to manage to on every trip they take), but I still had my walking stick tripod, so we were able to get her off the ice flow easily and home safe and sound.
All in all it's been good and tomorrow we head for the Musk Ox farm and the Reindeer farms as we make our way toward Anchorage and the airport to send Ken home for a few days so he can help his brother get married. For some reason he doesn't seem to think his brother can to pull that one off without him. It will be hard to see him go. He as been a stalwart companion, and a great friend and he has kept me safe and well cared for. He drove the 3500 miles to get us here and once here, he has put me in the right places at the right times. He has joined with me, camera in hand, to make sure we got all the images we possibly could or got the interview taped properly. To say that he will be missed, even for the couple of weeks he will be gone, is an understatement. But, he'll be back and I will be able to rest easy again knowing I˙ll be back on track with the help of my Expedition partner. Barton and Sarah will be with me all the way to Denali and then some and Lila will be joining me in Denali for the time before Ken's return.
Well, it's getting late here although you couldn't tell looking out the window. It's the longest day of the year and broad daylight at 10:00 p.m. It seems to be about four or five in the afternoon by midnight and broad daylight again by 3:00 a.m. We simply close the curtains look at our clocks, believe them and try to go to sleep. But, it ain't easy!
Cheryl should be getting the photo disks I sent to her soon and that means you will be getting photos of the trip sent your way, so be on the look out.
Take Care and God Bless,
Love, Susan