Deflected to Valdez

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The rain came during the night, but I didn't have too much of a problem because I had gotten my tent up while it was still not raining the night before. The tent is fairly waterproof so far and only a little water came through the fabric. I was comfy inside with no difficulty. The only problem was getting it all dry enough in the morning to put away. But I did it.



Then I headed off down the road. I decided on Anchorage and headed in that direction. Initially, it seemed it was just going to be a bit of a boring drive. The scenery got better though. I stopped at a turnout to have a view of a really nice river valley and met a man from California who was also enjoying the view. He got to talking to me and told me about a place on the road towards Valdez where there were fishwheels in use. I had seen them in Dawson City, but the salmon weren't running there yet, so the fishwheels were silent.



Because it is much closer to the ocean in Alaska, the salmon are running here, and so the fishwheels are in action. I decided that I would go and have a look.



I headed into the visitor centre he told me about, but I discovered that it was the wrong one. It didn't have the mock fishwheels that he had described. It did have lots of information about people who wanted money, for tours and places to stay and such. The one thing I found that wasn't of that nature was the photo of a ghost town in Wrangell/St. Elias National Park. That sounded really cool. It was a copper mining concern and there was town attached to the company. When the mine closed down, the town was abandoned. It was being preserved and restored by the national parks service. The woman in the centre directed me down the road. I headed out.



When I found the visitor centre for the Wrangell/St. Elias National Park, I found the place the man, Steve, had told me about. There was a fishwheel outside and a lot of interpretive stuff besides about the national park. And I found that I really wanted to go in. But I knew that I had really been fortunate with my car on the trip up to the Arctic. I didn't want to test the durability of it again. And everyone I talked to told me the road was in bad shape at that point. I couldn't risk it. So I decided I wouldn't go in at this time. Until I got to the park. Then I might have changed my mind.



After viewing a film about the park and checking out their exhibits, I went into the Ahtna Cultural Centre for a few minutes. That's when I learned how much the natives knew. If only we had asked them. They have a clan system. At the current time there are 9 clans for their people. The 9 clans are divided into two lines, called moieties. The Ahtna are matrilinear and become of the clan of their mother. Everyone knows which clan they belong to. And the two moieties, the Raven and the Eagle govern who can marry. You may marry only from the opposite moiety. And when I was talking with the guy in the centre about it, it was clear the reason was to avoid inbreeding. This was something it took many centuries for our learned people to figure out, and why. I don't know if the Ahtna (and I remember other First Nations groups I have met who had such concepts as well, I think) knew why inbreeding would occur, but it was clear they did know it happened, and knew how to avoid it.



I also remember when I did my tour through the Kakadu National Park in Australia that the Aborigines knew about inbreeding as well and their elders made people from the same family taboo for each other, and “family” had some kind of broader meaning than we might think, relating to who could not marry to prevent inbreeding. It's fascinating to me. And it's amazing that we thought we were so much more civilized and smarter than the native peoples we encountered just because we had such modern seeming science and technology.



After the Ahtna Cultural Centre, I headed towards the national park. I reached Chitina and crossed the boundary into the national park. There was a bridge over the Copper River. And on the opposite side of the river, I saw a broad spot where the fishing of salmon took place. There were a large number of fishwheels there. Unfortunately, they were dormant, just sitting in the water. Well it was an improvement over what I had seen in Dawson City, but that didn't help me see them in action. Apparently Steve had either been there when people were using them, or he had been misinformed. I was disappointed.



This left me wanting to go into the park even more, having the disappointment of not seeing the fishwheels in action. I still knew I couldn't really go, but the desire was almost overwhelming.



But all was not lost. Upriver a short distance, I saw some people messing around on shore. I decided to head over and see what was up. It looked like maybe there might some fishwheeling about to happen. I drove over the very bumpy shore and parked to watch. There was a man who seemed about to enter the water. He did! And he started working on the fishwheel. He adjusted it, and then took the hammer approach to fixing something that was broken. He banged some part of it about with something else. Glad to see the natives have the same approach as we do. And eventually it began to turn in the current. Then he and his two companions left. The fishwheel just turned all alone. And no fish were put into the bucket. Well, at least I got to see it work. It's quite ingenious.



As I was leaving, I saw the people at a campsite nearby. I stopped to ask how long it would take to get fish. I was told, as with all other things that involve animals, it happens when the animals are ready. When they swim by, they get caught. It could take an hour; or it could have happened as I was driving away. I didn't really want to wait to see how long it would take.



Because I had seen the fishwheel in action, the overwhelming desire to head into the park was diminished somewhat and I was able to let sense rule and turn back towards the road.



I stopped at a little waterfall in a state park. The caretaker for the park was there and he chatted with me for a few minutes. He told me to head down to Valdez. There was a glacier to see and a couple of nice waterfalls as well. And the scenery was supposed to be marvellous. He compared it to Switzerland, but the mountains were bigger. I decided, why not. I was already much of the way there anyway. The man also told me about a place to camp that was free.



So I went to Valdez. The drive WAS spectacular. On the way, you pass through all these winding valleys between mountains, down at the bottom of the canyons. There was a glacier on the way, and you could apparently go right up to it to see. I almost went in, but decided it was getting late and I was hungry. The caretaker had told me of a fish and chips place that was good, but I didn't want to miss it by having it close early. I could go to the glacier on the way back out of the valley.



But then things went off the rails a bit. I arrived at the bottom of the valleys and was just about to Valdez when there was road construction that stopped me. It required following a pilot car through the area and it was long. The roadie told me that it was going to be 5 or 10 minutes. It was almost 20 before the pilot car returned. It was getting later and later. I didn't know if I was going to get dinner. But I got into Valdez just before 9 pm. The Halibut House was still open, but only just. They put the closed signs up just after I got my dinner. Whew! It was good fish. Unfortunately, I am just not good at fish. I can't tell fish apart, except for salmon. So whether it's a higher class fish or not, I can't tell. It's all wasted on me. I may as well have the cheaper stuff rather than the more expensive halibut. In any case, I had dinner.



I walked around Valdez for a while after that, trying to get a good view of the harbour with the mountains in the background. With the sun getting low, the view would be very nice and the lighting was getting to be perfect. But the harbour is all taken up and there isn't anywhere to go and look at it, really. Not that I could find, at any rate. This annoyed me. I looked at a couple of tour offices, but the one place that had prices posted was really expensive. I didn't think I would be doing anything much in Valdez. I was less than impressed, unfortunately.



Then I went looking for the camping place the guy had told me about. I found the lake, Robe Lake, but I couldn't find anywhere that looked like a camping spot, much less a free one. So I went back out to try to find a campground that might have tent sites. It didn't work out. I eventually headed back to the lake and just decided to have a go at sleeping in the car. I put the seat down and got out my sleeping bags to try and make it comfortable. The seat back is quite hard and I anticipated not having a very good night.



In fact it was a difficult night, although I did sleep fairly well. But I need something soft to put under me if I am ever to do it again. Maybe I can some foamy pillows from Walmart or something. We shall see.

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Photos

Alaska Scenery
Driving in Alaska is a constant barrage of amazing mountain scenery, unspoiled by the presence of gawking tourists.

Scenic Viewpoint
There were lots of signs pointing to viewpoints from the road...

Where's the View?
...that had no real view. It seems that Alaska has adopted a policy of not altering the landscape just for things like views. They should take down the signs though, because they make little sense under those circumstances.

Fishwheel
A First Nations fisheman sets up his fishwheel to catch migrating salmon. The wheel spins in the current, scoops up a fish and deposits it in a basket on the base.

Near Elias/St. Wrangell National Park
The road was too rugged for my poor little car, but the spectacular mountains beckoned me to come and take a look. I wish I had.

Descending into Valdez
Valdez is a city set in a bay at the base of a chain of mountains. They were described to me as North America's Swiss Alps.

Valdez
Despite the oil spill of many years ago, the area has recovered and is quite beautiful.