The Alaska Story - Part 7

Alright friends, this story is almost over. Thanks to several Greyhounds last night I am suffering, again, from hangoverus majoris. When will I learn? Probably never. When also will I learn that it's much too easy to get into arguments with loved ones when you are slightly, or significantly, intoxicated? Hopefully soon. Anyway, here is your next installment.


The Last Leg

Usually calm and unruffled, Sue was clearly distraught about our circumstances. When we told her that Dusty, Annie and Nick had gone over Sugarloaf by themselves and quite unprepared she almost came unglued. While we were all worried about our friends, it hadn’t really occurred to us that their lives could actually be in danger. Nate, Husband and I became immediately sobered by the thought of our friends stuck on top of the mountain without so much as a stove to keep them warm.
We were headed towards the cars to leave a note for Dusty explaining that we were on our way to Chuck and Karen’s. Rather than picking us up, he should drive straight there and we’d give him the details later. As we drove down the highway we saw three sorry-looking backpackers walking along the road. We knew at once it was Dusty, Annie and Nick. We all yelled out-loud in excitement upon seeing them. Sue pulled into the parking lot of a nearby lodge and dropped Nate, Husband and I off before turning around to pick up Dusty, Annie and Nick.
Husband, Nate and I stood in the lobby of the grand lodge looking quite out of place and pitiful. I was soaked to the bone, my shoulder was now immobile, we’d just spent three days camping in the wilderness and looked every inch like that’s where we’d been. Husband walked around the lobby in search of a cigarette vendor. Nate and I examined the huge 3-D map of Alaska while I tried to control my shivering. A woman approached us and asked me if I was okay. I smiled and gave her my best “Yes, thank you”, not wanting to get into details with a complete stranger. Finally Husband came back, cigarettes in hand, and we adjourned outside to indulge. Nate even joined us.
We hadn’t even smoked half a cigarette when Dusty, Annie and Nick pulled into the parking lot with Sue following behind. When Dusty saw Nate with a cigarette in his hand he proclaimed, “It must be bad if Nate’s smoking.” We all laughed at that but decided to save the details for Chuck and Karen’s house. Once again we loaded ourselves into the vehicles and drove back to Waugaman Village to retrieve David and Mary. When we were all together again we headed to Chuck and Karen’s house. We were all exhausted and our minds were set on hot showers and cold beer so our conversation was relatively limited during the drive. Husband and I were riding with Sue and she continued to tell us of the dangers of Alaska. She said that probably the reason Dusty wanted to go over the mountain was to avoid another river crossing. Apparently that is one of the more dangerous things one can do in Alaska, and many backpackers don’t make it home after drowning in flooded rivers.
Chuck and Karen’s house is a secluded paradise. They built a log home on many acres outside of Cantwell from the ground up, mostly by themselves. They cut and stripped all of the logs they used to build it. While they were stripping the logs, Karen filleted her thigh with the stripping tool. It was very deep, requiring stitches. They live two hours from the nearest hospital though, and the situation was pretty dire. So Chuck got the gun they use to staple the dogs’ wounds closed and proceeded to staple Karen’s leg closed. When they did finally arrive at the hospital the doctor examined Karen’s leg and said the staples looked great and to come back when she needed them removed. That is a tough lady. Thankfully that setback didn’t keep them from finishing the house. They picked out special logs to serve as columns inside the living room and paid particular attention to details like that. The kitchen counters are made from formed and dyed concrete and are simply gorgeous.
As we pulled into the driveway we heard the sled dogs barking to greet us. At that time they had about 30 dogs that they actually used to pull sleds in the winter. Neither Chuck nor Karen was home from work yet, but we were instructed to make ourselves at home. Husband and I were getting out of the car as Annie and Nick pulled up behind us. It was the first time we’d talked to them since we separated. Husband asked Nick how their hike was. His answer was chillingly serious. “I seriously thought we were gonna die up there.” This was coming from a cop. We couldn’t wait to get inside and share our adventures.
We took several trips back and forth from the cars to the basement in order to unload everything. What food we had left in the bear canisters was now soaked and inedible. Practically everything we had was wet and dirty, so Sue started a load of laundry. Once everything was unpacked and in the basement we headed upstairs to collapse for a while. Nick and Husband volunteered to get beer while the rest of us rested or started helping Sue get dinner ready.
Chuck and Karen arrived home shortly after Husband and Nick got back with enough beer to ease our aching bodies for the night. They were eager to hear about our trip in full detail. While David and Mary showered the rest of us were happy to tell our tale of adventure. I was almost embarrassed, feeling like our experience was minor compared to what they deal with at the park. But as we talked about crossing the Healy Creek, Karen’s eyes widened in amazement. This was obviously something she didn’t hear about every day. One of the things I learned from Karen is that you should always unbuckle your pack before you cross a river. That way if you do need to get out of it you’ll actually be able to. She examined my shoulder to make sure it wasn’t dislocated and decided it was most likely a pulled muscle.
After a couple of beers, it was Husband's and my turn to shower. The bathroom in Chuck and Karen’s is something out of a spa. The bathroom itself is spacious and airy. There’s a huge window in the shower and double showerheads. Not just double, but the giant heads that feel like you’re in a rainstorm. Lucky for Husband and I, Chuck and Karen are tall and short respectively. Chuck is easily a foot taller than Karen, like Husband and I. They have the showerheads adjusted for their height, which suited us perfectly. As I undressed for the shower I noticed that I had a fairly serious injury on my lower leg. About six inches above my ankle, my shin was swollen to the size of a lemon. Right in the middle of the blue and purple swelling was a hole about the size of a ’22 bullet. It was black, as if it was trying to scab over. I hadn’t even noticed pain in my leg since my shoulder hurt so bad, but it looked disgusting. I have no idea to this day how it got there. I showered the best I could through excruciating pain and in the end I felt wonderful. It’s easy to appreciate a shower when you don’t get one for a few days.
By the time Husband and I were done dinner was ready. Sue brought all kinds of food with her: spaghetti, salad, bread, I think even brownies or cookies. She went all out to make us a great meal. And it was great! Husband was very interested in the house so he and Chuck talked a lot about that. The rest of the night was in that vein. Lots of talking, retelling our favorite parts of the story we just made, talking about the rest of the trip for Nate, Dusty, Annie, Nick, David and Mary. They’d be kayaking near glaciers the next day and were all excited for that. As the evening turned into night the party died out, people made their way to bed, and Sue eventually went home. Dusty, Nate, Husband and I stayed up late into the night talking about everything and nothing. Dusty was really concerned that we’d had a good time and didn’t think of him badly. He felt terribly responsible, for some reason, about what had happened. We assured him that we’d had a life-changing experience, an incredible one at that. We’d seen and done things we never dreamed we would. At some time late that night the four of us called it a night and retired to our respective beds. The others had an early day and a long drive to Fairbanks or wherever they were going. Husband and I would also have a long day, but we didn’t have to leave quite so early.
I slept a somewhat restless sleep with every move sending shooting pains to my shoulder. Nevertheless, the bed was heavenly, much better than the ground. When we awoke Chuck and Karen had already left for work. Dusty and the gang were packing up their gear and having a light breakfast. Chuck told Husband that we could hang out as long as we wanted as long as we put the dog in before we left. We helped the gang pack up and soon said goodbye. Husband and I watched them roll down the driveway and down the road until they disappeared. We went back inside and cleaned up what we could before taking some time to enjoy the house a bit. We lingered on the deck and looked out over the mountains in the distance. The birds sang to us and the trees whispered their goodbyes in the gentle breeze. We were sorry to leave and wanted to soak in the last bits of beauty that we could. Soon we would be back to the reality of California.
Annie and Nick rented a car to get to Dusty’s house, and now Husband and I were returning it in Anchorage. We packed up the mid-sized sedan after making sure Chuck and Karen’s house was in order and started the two and a half hour drive to Anchorage. Our flight wasn’t until midnight so we decided to walk around the city and have dinner until we had to leave for the airport. The only remarkable things about the drive were all of the fireworks stands along the highway. By stands I don’t mean your typical “Red Devil” stand that you see every Fourth of July. These are STANDS, easily as big as a small convenience store with every type of firework imaginable. One of my favorites had two giant blow-up gorillas on the roof, of which one was wearing a pink and yellow polka dot bikini. Classic.
Anchorage sits on a large bay with various shipping liners dotting the water. Husband and I found a place to park that was in close proximity to downtown and the beach. We walked towards the large wooded staircase that led down to the sand. In the middle of the wooden platform stood a statue of Capt. Cook and a plaque commemorating his discovery of Alaska.
After walking along the ocean we made our way towards the tourist zone of downtown Anchorage. We meandered through the stores, browsing the 1000’s of moose and grizzly bear related items. After picking up a couple of gifts for friends and the hand-drawn map of the Nenana River Gorge we were ready to eat. After passing up a couple of very crowded restaurants we found a brewpub, I think called the Blue Heron. We were seated at a window booth that looked out over the expansive bay. The food was great; likewise the beer, and we relaxed and enjoyed our last few hours in Alaska.
When time beckoned to us that it was time to drop off the car, Husband and I walked slowly back to our parking spot and headed to the rental car office. After an uneventful car return we waited in the parking lot for the shuttle to take us to the airport. What can I say about the airport? Flying at this point in time is at best marginally annoying and at worst, the biggest pain in your ass ever. Our check in was somewhere in between. We had the advantage of carrying only our backpacks, which we had to check and we were checked in, boarding passes in hand, in relatively good time. When we got up to the terminal we spotted a Cheers, yes in Alaska. Husband and I figured the best way to kill time before our flight would be to drink, so we did. We sat in the Cheers, watching fellow travelers and reveling in our memories of the last few days. Eventually we made our way to our gate and prepared to board the plane.
The red-eye flight back to Oakland made me never want to fly again. My favorite part about it was the screaming child who screamed at the top of its lungs throughout the entire flight. It was almost humorous that the cabin lights were off encouraging people to sleep, but no one would attempt to silence the screaming child. At long last we made our decent into Oakland where my parents would be waiting for us. We were exhausted from the flight and from the trip, and happy to be back home. Although Alaska had been one of the best experiences in either of our lives, there was something very comforting about being home.
We told my parents about our trip as they drove us back to Sacramento. They were both in disbelief upon hearing about the Healy Creek crossing, but thankful that we were home safely. It still amazes me when I think back on our trip. An unbreakable bond was formed between the eight of us. We experienced something that will unite us forever, if only in our memories. I will never forget our adventure in Alaska, and look forward to passing this story on to my own children someday. This was one of the best experiences of my life and it taught me more about myself than I expected it to. I learned that I possess a strength I didn't realize I had, and that I am capable of maintaining a rational mind through the most challenging circumstances. Among the lessons I learned there, these are probably the most important to me. Above everything, however, the relationship and the memories I share with my traveling companions are the most important.