Denali | Alaska Part 5

This is Part 5 in a 6 Part Series on Alaska. It is a continuation of The Trip to Talkeetna | Alaska Part 4
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On the road out of Talkeetna early Saturday morning I hit some ice that sent my pickup truck fishtailing down the road. Now that I was wide awake from that excitement, it was time to see some wildlife and hopefully Mt. McKinley before I had to head back to get on the flightsee trip.

I decided that I would go into Denali State Park to look for wildlife and maybe do some hiking. I wasn't on the road very long when I saw a bald eagle on a branch out over the highway. I noticed it as I was passing it, so I was pretty far down the road before I got the truck stopped. There was no one around so I threw it into reverse and backed up to the bird. He just sat there the whole time looking confused at the crazy person driving back and forth.

I pulled into the first viewing area I found in Denali State Park. I was greeted by a great view of the Alaska Range, but according to the sign there was a mountain missing. McKinley/Denali was so socked in it appeared to not even be there.

I was optimistic that this day would turn around, so I kept driving north. It was nearing the time that I would need to turn around soon to make it back to Talkeetna in time for my flightsee trip. I found another turnoff and stopped to call K2 Aviation to make sure my flight was still going up. No service. I drove a bit further. No service. I knew I had service at the first viewing area where I stopped so I turned around and drove 20-30 minutes back there. I called K2 and they said it didn't look good. They eventually said they would take me up, but it would be a short flight and they weren't sure I would see anything. I would like to say I hung up the phone and maintained my optimism. But I didn't. I hung up the phone and cried. I'd come all this way. Denali was going to be my 60th National Park. I'd heard that the best way to see it was by air and now it was all falling apart. I was heartbroken. I was alone in the middle of a parking lot in Alaska, things weren't working out, and I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I was lonely. And I was disappointed. But after allowing myself a few minutes to sulk, my determination won out. I called K2 back and rescheduled the flight for the next day and decided to drive all the way to Denali National Park. In one phone call I had created about 8 hours of driving for myself. I now had a 2.5 hour drive to Denali National Park. Then a 3.5 hour drive to my next lodging. Followed by a 2 hour drive back north to Talkeetna for the flightsee trip the next day.

So I started driving. The drive to Denali was uneventful. There is some beautiful scenery, and it is sparsely populated. I drove for miles and miles without ever passing another vehicle.

I said I didn't do any hunting in Alaska, but it looks like I got a few kills.

As I was approaching Denali I drove through a tiny town with a post office, a gas station, and not much else. It had been hours since I had seen a gas station, so I decided to stop and fill up. Gas was over $4 a gallon. I guess when you have the monopoly in the middle of nowhere you can charge whatever you want. I happily paid a small fortune and went on my way.

The roads were clear the entire drive, but as soon as I entered Denali National Park they were snow covered. It was as though I passed through some portal and was instantly transported to a winter wonderland. There was snow everywhere.

I had read online that only the first 3 miles of the park road was open as it was now considered winter. I thought that couldn't possibly be true. It was. Those miles were open, but still snow covered. The last 2 miles are on a mountain and made for a terrifying drive.

The Visitor Center was also closed for winter. Thank goodness there is a Science and Learning Center that remained open and staffed by a ranger. She was able to recommend some trails for me and soon I was off hiking through the snow and across beautiful bridges.

It was a short hike. Less than an hour, I think. I could have stayed in Denali all day. Probably all week. Everything was so beautiful. The long drive was worth it for the short hike. I was hiking in Denali National Park in snow! Does it get more authentically Alaskan than that? The worst day of my trip quickly became the best. I'm so glad my determination conquered my disappointment.

I climbed back in my truck and drove all the way to Hatcher Pass Bed and Breakfast in Palmer. I've stayed in B&Bs before and they're not my scene. I don't dig the frilly rooms and the meals with strangers. This place is WAY different. It's actually a complex of several small log cabins. Each cabin has a mini-kitchen area stocked with breakfast supplies and you make whatever you want in the morning. The place is decorated with Alaskan artwork and decorations. I wish I had stayed here the entire trip! It was the nicest place I stayed, and one of the cheapest too! Unfortunately, I wasn't there very long.

I was up early the next morning and I started driving up to Independence Mine State Park. The road is a narrow, switchback filled journey up the side of the mountain. Yesterday's ice/fishtail incident still had me nervous and remember my motto for the trip was "I don't want to spend the holidays dead."

I soon pulled over and gave my friends at K2 a call. I talked to a guy named Chris and he said McKinley was out when he drove in to work and it was a beautiful sunny day so he expected the flight to go up. Time for more driving.

Back to Talkeetna I went. As I was driving into town, Denali is unmistakeable. It's no wonder she's called The Great One.

When I got to K2 I discovered that Chris was my pilot and it was just the two of us and one couple for our flight. The bad news was we wouldn't be able to do the glacier landing we had hoped for because off all the fresh snow. The good news was I got to sit in the co-pilot seat.

Words cannot describe the beauty I saw from above Denali National Park. Pictures won't do it justice, but hopefully these will hold you over until you get a chance to go see it for yourself.

Ruth's Glacier leading to Denali

The Great One: Denali 

Mt Foraker, Mt Hunter, Mt McKinley

Denali's Wickersham Wall

Denali was worth the wait. I've never seen anything so magnificent.

Flight 93 Memorial

Part of what inspired me to commit to this National Park Challenge was the fact that I’m surrounded by so many parks, but I had so far been unwilling to go see them. Many parks are just a few miles out of my normal routes, and yet I was too busy to get where I was going to stop. 

That’s how it is with the parks of Pennsylvania. I’m no stranger to PA. I spent 99.9% of 22 years there. And yet I’d only seen three of state’s 15 National Parks. 15 National Parks?!?!?! My home state has 15 National Parks?!? I needed to see some more. I took a day of my vacation a few weeks ago and saw three of them.

I can’t say I recommend seeing three National Parks in one day. These three were all fairly close together so it seemed silly not to, but if I’m honest it was overwhelming and exhausting. I was physically...and emotionally drained after my visits and I still had 3 hours in a car to go!

To save your brain (and your emotions) from overload, I’ve broken the day up into 3 separate posts.

The first park I visited that day was the Flight 93 Memorial. Out of the 54 parks I’ve seen, this was by far the most difficult. 

In the few months of this challenge so far, I have realized that many of the parks don’t celebrate inherently happy occasions. I’ve visited several battlefields and a plantation. It’s no secret that we are a nation with a shadowy past. But that was the big difference - they were all in the past. I only knew of these events from history books and documentaries. I had the intellectual knowledge that all of these things had happened. But with the Flight 93 Memorial, I had the memories of it happening. The Flight 93 Memorial was just a field in Shanksville when I was a kid. There was no reason for it to be anything else.

My story is no more or less unique than anyone else’s story of September 11, 2001. I remember where I was, who I was with, and how confused I was. I had a case of the invincibility syndrome - “It can never happen to me. It won’t happen here.” When in reality it nearly did. Flight 93 crashed less than 150 miles from my house.

I’ve only recently begun to consider the fact that I don’t know what it was like to be an adult before 9/11. I was a junior in high school when it happened. I didn’t fly until after it happened. My country has been at war for nearly half my life. And I know many people who were born after 9/11. They will never know a world without such an attack on and in our country. These facts are so much my reality that it took visiting this National Park to realize them.

At the Flight 93 Memorial I only saw fields, trees, and one homestead in the distance. The only sound I heard was heavy machinery building the future Visitor Center. It’s remote. One of the remotest parks I’ve seen so far. I was just driving along a country, two lane highway when I saw the sign of the turn off. Then it was an even narrower, winding road that took me up one hill and around another until I was surrounded by nothing but greenery. So different from Washington, DC - the intended target of the plane and only 18 minutes away.

The memorial is simple. Elegant. At the end of a black walkway, there is a wall with a panel for each passenger and crew member that lost their life. Panels are engraved with the individual’s name and flowers and gifts were left at the bottom of some. The wall follows the flight path of Flight 93.

The black walkway borders a field. The crash site. A boulder marks the approximate place of impact. A neighboring hemlock grove still has a bare spot from where the plane hit. The crash site is fenced off and remains closed to everyone but family members of the victims. Although enough DNA evidence was gathered to identify every passenger on the plane, the field is still filled with remains. That was a sobering thought. Hundreds of acres, still closed. The explosion was that big. Flight 93 had only been airborne 46 minutes. What was meant to be a non-stop flight from Newark to San Francisco was ended nearly as soon as it began. And 7,000 gallons of jet fuel had to go somewhere.

The mowed section shows the flight path.

Side view. Note the bare spot in the hemlock grove.

Flight 93 was delayed 25 minutes on the morning of September 11th. In a cruel twist of irony it eventually departed 4 minutes before the first plane hit the World Trade Center. 4 minutes. 4 minutes separated the 7 crew members and 33 passengers from the lives they knew...forever.

In 30 minutes from when the hijacking began, the passengers and crew knew their plane was part of a terrorist plot and decided to do something about it. What would have happened had they not?

What would I have done? I like to think I’m brave. I love my country. But in 30 minutes could I call those I love, say goodbye, then give up my life to create a better life for them? Thank you to all of you who have put yourselves in danger to create a better life for us and safer country. We can never repay you. I think the passengers and crew of Flight 93 are 40 of the greatest patriots this country will ever know. They didn’t sign up for this. They were off on business trips and vacations. But they were given a choice. They left Newark as airline customers. Probably annoyed airline customers because of the delay. But they died in a field in Pennsylvania as heroes.

A trip to the Flight 93 Memorial not an easy one, but it’s a trip I encourage you all to take. It’s more than just history. It’s our lives. We will never forget.

Learn more here: http://www.nps.gov/flni/index.htm