If a visitor to central Alaska wants to see North America’s highest peak, they need a good dose of luck. Persistence is helpful too. Of the 600,000 folks who visit Denali National Park and Preserve every year, only about one-third will get the chance to see the massive mountain in all it’s glory. The rest might get a glimpse of a portion of it’s snow-covered slopes, but probably will see nothing at all, as clouds completely cover the mountain most of the time. In the weeks leading up to our Alaskan trip, the weather reports for all the areas we would be visiting were not good. As departure day approached we started to see some improvement in the forecasts for Seward and Homer, and those proved accurate. But the forecast for the Denali area never faltered – rain and cool temperatures were expected, and that’s what we got when we arrived on a Tuesday afternoon. Over dinner that night we consoled ourselves with the thought that while we probably wouldn’t catch sight of the mountain, the park was still known as a great place for wildlife viewing. The wild mushroom crostini, grilled sockeye salmon with house-made whole-grain mustard glaze and the seared scallops with pink peppercorn sauce were also helpful. Oh, and the bread pudding with blueberry sauce and lavender ice cream . . . very consoling. We went to bed extremely full and hoped the rain wouldn’t deter the animals from coming out the next day.

Wednesday dawned gray and bleak. The plan was to drive the fifteen miles of the park’s road open to private vehicles (another fifty miles are open to visitors who book a seat on a park service bus), then continue up the Parks Highway to visit the small town of Healy before returning to Prospectors Pizzeria and Alehouse for dinner. If we needed more consoling, I figured the forty-nine Alaskan craft beers on tap and some of the state’s best-rated pizza would do the trick. We entered the park just after 10 am, and, true to form, Denali was nowhere to be seen. A solid veil of clouds hid all but the nearest peaks. But almost immediately, our focus went from the views of the mountain to the views off the side of the road. We saw this . . .

And this . . .

And this . . .

And this . . .

There was also a lynx sighting (which happened too quickly to get the camera up but also, along with the caribou, was a first for us), a nice walk along the Savage River Loop trail and a look at a porcupine. Despite her excitement at seeing and photographing all the incredible wildlife, I reminded Heather that we still hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of Denali, so perhaps consoling ourselves with some of that pizza and beer at Prospectors was in order. Reluctantly she agreed to leave the park (although not before insisting that we drive the fifteen mile route again – just in case . . .).

The next morning dawned . . . clear and sunny! The plan was to make the 4+ hour drive down to Anchorage, return our rental car and catch our late afternoon flight to Juneau for the start of the Inside Passage portion of the trip. But we quickly decided to alter the plan to accommodate yet another trip into the national park to see if any other wildlife would present itself (bears please!) or the mountain could be seen. Our persistence paid off -not only did the mountain reveal itself, but we spotted two more caribou along the drive. By the time we left the park, the clouds moved back in and the rain began to fall once again. Lucky us!

After our flight to Juneau, and a night in the state capital, we boarded the ferry for the six hour trip along the Inside Passage to Skagway. Known as a jumping-off point for prospectors heading to the gold fields of the Yukon during the rush of 1898, Skagway is now a quiet town of wooden boardwalks and old west-style buildings that house businesses catering to the cruise ships that ply the waters of the Inside Passage. On days when no ships are in port – like the full day we were in town – things can get pretty quiet. Though it was a Saturday, most shops and restaurants were closed, and those that were open only operated for a few hours. On a side street we did find Sockeye Cycle Company, which rents e-bikes, and was open for business. The owner gave us a map of the area and suggested a ride out to the Dyea town site where we could enjoy scenic views of the Chilkoot Valley and see the salmon running up the Taiya river into the smaller creeks to spawn. Sounded like the perfect way to spend the day – at least until the Skagway Brewing Company opened its doors at 4 pm. The scenery was indeed beautiful – crossing the Skagway River just outside town, cycling around Nahku Bay and then arriving at the former site of the town of Dyea, which, along with Skagway, funneled gold-seekers onto the Chilkoot Trail on their way to the Yukon. The town sat on the flats at the mouth of the Taiya river, where salmon return to spawn every summer. We left our bikes by the banks of the Nelson Slough, a small offshoot of the Taiya, and marveled at the numbers of fish choking the small stream. Bald eagles, some with a brood of eaglets, perched on driftwood, apparently already sated from feasting on the profusion of fish in the shallow waters. Eventually we mounted our bikes for the return trip and a much-deserved beer at the brewery.

The following morning we boarded the ferry for the return to Juneau, where we would catch a short flight to Gustavus for our visit to Glacier Bay. That story in the next post, along with the completion of our trip with stops in Wrangell and Ketchikan.