Family Hunger Genealogy

No, this is not what I had for breakfast.

9/18/2024 Wednesday –

I wake up at my boondock camp up the Portage Glacier Road on the way to Whittier, AK. I have turned off Highway 1 on my way south from Anchorage to Seward, which had been my goal yesterday if I hadn’t been distracted by the Bore Tide after I left the big city of Anchorage.

It’s a beautiful morning! Low cloud banks are rolling through the valley, reflected in the unnamed pond that I camp beside. Yellow leaves from cottonwood trees are beginning to fall on the ground. It’s relatively quiet with occasional traffic rolling down the highway every few minutes, which is a few hundred yards away. The noise helps me appreciate the silence.

The dirt road I’m on is next to this pond that has passed beyond its summer foliage with the stems of what appears to be lily pads and thick beds of old grasses remaining in the water. I noticed a lot more green vegetation of grasses, bushes, and deciduous trees in the woods here, different from the bright yellow of the higher elevation of Denali.

I had a good night’s sleep and the camper furnace was working well after I fixed it in Anchorage, so it was a great morning – a feeling of accomplishment.

Clouds were moving through the valleys, obscuring and exposing the grand mountain tops – a dynamic play of the senses. Lights and darks. Quiet and road noise. Contrasts noted.

I leave the camper dressed for a walk in my bright red ski coat, prepared for the cool fall weather. My Nikon is slung over my shoulder to hunt for and capture the beauty of the morning. As I explore, I feel excitement at experiencing a new home this day. I find large white swans on the far side of a pond, and I attempt to capture them with my camera but fail to satisfy myself – they can’t be captured! Nature wins again!

I step away towards the woods and find bear scat – a HUGE pile of it! Reflecting on my memories of the size of a pile of the smaller black bear scat from my neighborhood of Idaho, I consider this pile from local brown bear, a.k.a. Grizzly, as about four times the size – that’s just the brown part of the pile. This guy, whom I name Grizzy Bob, looks like he’s been partying on a bush full of bright red berries, and didn’t bother to digest it. Too much Ripple wine? The diameter of the pile at the furthest berry rolls was about 6 feet across.

I consider how old this pile is, and how long ago Grizzly Bob had his party. Is he alright? Is he still around?

I hiked further down the trail and found other campers. One was a customized bus with the words “Sacrebleu”, a French exclamation often used to express surprise, shock, or mild indignation, according to Google AI (I’m ashamed to say I had to look it up). On top of the bus was a kayak, and bikes were on the back – my kind of people! They got toys!

Further down the hiking path, a power pole had scratch marks from a bear about six or eight feet up the pole. I say to myself: “He’s not too big! I can take him on! Do I have my bear spray with me?” I feel around for which pocket it’s in.

I finish my short hike on this beautiful autumn morning, return to camp, pack up, and roll on down the road. I stop on the road to Whittier, AK at the Blue Ice Trailhead, which is very quiet. I’m all alone. I find a recently mauled porcupine, pretty big at about four feet long from head to tip of tail. I examine it closely and consider how fresh this kill looked. It looked like it had recently been slaughtered by some large predator, ripped open with muscles and viscera exposed, but not eaten. I was grossed out, so I took photos. I scan around to see if Grizzly Bob is watching me. I feel my guts tightening with anxiety, fear, respect, humbled, being very aware that this is not my neighborhood, and no one else is here to pick me up and stitch me back together. With trepidation, I continue down the trail to the water, eager to take pictures of the glacier. (See photo below.)

As I step back from the blue-gray water’s edge after “capturing” the glacier in my Nikon to my satisfaction, I ponder the larger ice field above which feeds the glacier from beyond my view. I consider the possibility of a hike up there, at least in my imagination as I know that’s pretty unrealistic.

I look down at my feet and see that I almost stepped on a partially eaten salmon. Yikes, that looks fresh! I look around and see a second fresh fish meal, which prompts me to return to the parking lot and the safety of my truck. Of course, this is after I photograph it. That bear’s mother did not teach him to clean his plate after moving on to the next course.

Back on the pavement, I find another car has arrived, so I know I’m not alone. I search and find three gentlemen at another place on the stream and ask if they are local people, as their license plates indicate. They claim they are tourists from Virginia, it’s a rental car, and no, they don’t know the local wildlife. They didn’t see the partially devoured porcupine. We go back to the parking lot to show them, and they remark: “Cool!” One guy bends down and says: “If I had gloves, I could feel it and see if it’s still warm.” I offered him some rubber gloves from my first aid kit, but he declines – such false bravado.

I find awesome travels further up towards Portage glacier and the town of Whittier, accessible through a tunnel which the highway shares with a train. This led me to Forest Service salmon spawning viewing sites and a campground with F.S. Rangers, who confirmed that the photo I took was brown bear scat, or Grizzly sign. The young Ranger from Utah commented that they don’t chew the cranberries and don’t digest them well so they just poop-blast them out this way.

I consider traveling onward to Whittier, but I rationalize that with so many distractions and side-trips, I would never reach my goals if I didn’t stay focused. I later view this highway with Google Earth and see what appears to be the highway through a tunnel under a glacier, or at least a very large snowfield. I have regrets now that I didn’t take this road-less-traveled.

I continued on to Seward, Alaska, and camped there in a city campground this night, staying two nights at Resurrection Campground with the comforts and false security of full hook-ups for my trailer.