Earlier today we left Denali and headed for Fairbanks and the Alaska University nearby. There’s a great museum there with a film about the Northern Lights and the problems people have living in the dark for such a long period of the year. There’s also a wealth of information about the original Athabascan Indians and other tribes who wandered and settle in the area, and of course, the whole history of Russian settlement (Russian America, it was called!) and the eventual sale in 1867 of the land to the US, for the princely sum of $7.2 million.
We did a supermarket shopping stop and I took advantage of this to also visit a hardware shop where I bought a tent! and a stool to help me get from prone to upright. I also bought a pillow and a folding camp chair, so I am now completely prepared for the full camping experience, and to hell with the knees. I am now prepared to ignore them totally. In fact I have to, because having run out of painkillers, I tried to get something with codeine in at the pharmacist’s and was informed they will not sell codeine across the counter. I finally bought some tablets which I was assured would not interfere with my other medication – as long as I only took one a day. I’ve just found out it’s Paracetamol – and one tablet doesn’t even touch the sides. So it’s now mind over matter, ignore the pain, massage it away and visualise warm pink fuzzies. It works.
I am now sitting here in a beautiful spot at Chena Springs, partly enjoying the peace, the sound of the stream just behind the bus, the glow in the sky as the sun sink behind the hills – clear and fresh after a short rainy squall. The other part of me is steeped in disappointment as there is only one pool open and the water is 46C. So I haven’t had a go. After managing up to my knees only in the hottest pool in Australia recently, and that was about 42/43 I know it’s not an option here. A much younger member of the group has just told me it’s no worse than a very hot bath… but he’s 30+ years my junior and can maybe stand it – I know I can’t!
Sitting here at a picnic table, surrounded by outsize mosquitoes and little moths, I can hear the voices of some of the group inside the bus, Jonny’s distinctive laugh, the noise of the stream, a strange piping noise from a bird nearby – and apart from that, nothing. Some people have put up their tents, and moved mattresses out of the bus to sleep on.
Behind me is a little parking area where people have left their pickups, cars, a motorbike – and a little two-seater plane. Parked neatly in the row with other vehicles. Cute. The landscape has changed since Denali, the hill are high, but gentle. They are covered in spruce – and I can now recognise where they are affected by permafrost, and where not. There are also silver birch trees, looking light and airy next to the darker firs.
Tomorrow we have a long day of driving – to Chicken. I found out where it got its name: apparently some miners (gold – this part of the country was swarming with them) decided to give their settlement a name and as the town was inundated by ptarmigans, they decided to name it after them. But no one could agree on the spelling, so the town was named Chicken instead. Another nice story!
Patamateria 