It’s a long drive from Chena Hot Springs to Denali. Steve splurged and bought us tickets on the train from Denali to Talkeetna where Steve and Darla have their cabin. (Well, near Talkeetna, about an hour’s drive out into the wilderness.)
Steve told us to meet him in the lobby at 6 am to make the drive. That meant no coffee for me. Steve promised to stop for breakfast along the way. (That meant an egg McMuffin and bad coffee.)
Steve and Darla had come up on different days, so had two cars. I’m glad they did. With all our baggage, we couldn’t have gotten 5 people into one car.
We packed and headed out. It was a two-hour drive to Denali.
We got to the train station two-hours early. Steve dropped us off and headed to his cabin. We went to check in and Buddy asked, “Are there any upgrades to our seats?”
The ever-patient ticket clerk allowed as how we could upgrade to Gold Class for one hundred and thirty bucks. Each. For those of you who know me well, you know I would never pay that kind of bread for an upgrade, but Buddy wanted to, so I shelled out the bucks.
We were seated in the Gold Class car with the domed roof and big, wide, comfortable seats. The dining room was underneath us in the same car.
“All aboard!” yelled the conductor and we were off.
Steve told us to meet him in the lobby at 6 am to make the drive. That meant no coffee for me. Steve promised to stop for breakfast along the way. (That meant an egg McMuffin and bad coffee.)
Steve and Darla had come up on different days, so had two cars. I’m glad they did. With all our baggage, we couldn’t have gotten 5 people into one car.
We packed and headed out. It was a two-hour drive to Denali.
We got to the train station two-hours early. Steve dropped us off and headed to his cabin. We went to check in and Buddy asked, “Are there any upgrades to our seats?”
The ever-patient ticket clerk allowed as how we could upgrade to Gold Class for one hundred and thirty bucks. Each. For those of you who know me well, you know I would never pay that kind of bread for an upgrade, but Buddy wanted to, so I shelled out the bucks.
We were seated in the Gold Class car with the domed roof and big, wide, comfortable seats. The dining room was underneath us in the same car.
“All aboard!” yelled the conductor and we were off.
Hurricane Gulch
I took the train from Portland to San Diego after taking care of my mother for six months and was extremely disappointed.
This was not the same experience. I kept looking for Tatiana Romanov and James Bond. We were leaving From Denali with Love.
We settled into our seats and enjoyed the beautiful scenery. Through the trees we could occasionally spy majestic mountains. A clear fast-running stream paralleled the railroad tracks and eventually crossed under us and emptied into a large murky river.
The steward came by and asked us to head downstairs for lunch. The lady sitting in front of us asked if we were travelling alone.
“Yes.”
“Would you like to join us for lunch?”
The tables in the dining car seat four people. Because the train was full, they needed us to double up. No problem.
Candy and Billy Bob (I’m sorry, that’s a dig at their Texas roots. He was really Bill.) were delightful lunch partners.
I had penne pasta with reindeer marinera sauce. Buddy settled for a hamburger. The food was great.
Afterward, we returned to our seats and continued to enjoy the ride.
We got back to our seats in time to pass over Hurricane Gulch. There was a “tour guide” somewhere on the train that kept talking to us over the speakers. For the most part his comments were inane as were his puns and jokes. He really needs some new material.
But when it came to Hurricane Gulch, he informed us that the bridge over the Gulch was the longest in the United States. (I wonder if he knows about seven-mile bridge in Florida?) and that it was the highest bridge in North America.
I could believe it. Way down below us was a tiny river that looked like a ribbon of blue and white. It was a big river, but it seemed like we were looking down from an airplane.
Buddy asked me if I was happy and, for the first time on the trip, I could say yes. It was a wonderful train ride.
Now for the $64,000 question: Did we see Mt. Denali? This was one of the objects of my Alaska Adventure. According to our tour guide we went right past it. The only problem was that the cloud cover was so low we couldn’t see the tops of the trees, much less the highest peak in North America.
This was not the same experience. I kept looking for Tatiana Romanov and James Bond. We were leaving From Denali with Love.
We settled into our seats and enjoyed the beautiful scenery. Through the trees we could occasionally spy majestic mountains. A clear fast-running stream paralleled the railroad tracks and eventually crossed under us and emptied into a large murky river.
The steward came by and asked us to head downstairs for lunch. The lady sitting in front of us asked if we were travelling alone.
“Yes.”
“Would you like to join us for lunch?”
The tables in the dining car seat four people. Because the train was full, they needed us to double up. No problem.
Candy and Billy Bob (I’m sorry, that’s a dig at their Texas roots. He was really Bill.) were delightful lunch partners.
I had penne pasta with reindeer marinera sauce. Buddy settled for a hamburger. The food was great.
Afterward, we returned to our seats and continued to enjoy the ride.
We got back to our seats in time to pass over Hurricane Gulch. There was a “tour guide” somewhere on the train that kept talking to us over the speakers. For the most part his comments were inane as were his puns and jokes. He really needs some new material.
But when it came to Hurricane Gulch, he informed us that the bridge over the Gulch was the longest in the United States. (I wonder if he knows about seven-mile bridge in Florida?) and that it was the highest bridge in North America.
I could believe it. Way down below us was a tiny river that looked like a ribbon of blue and white. It was a big river, but it seemed like we were looking down from an airplane.
Buddy asked me if I was happy and, for the first time on the trip, I could say yes. It was a wonderful train ride.
Now for the $64,000 question: Did we see Mt. Denali? This was one of the objects of my Alaska Adventure. According to our tour guide we went right past it. The only problem was that the cloud cover was so low we couldn’t see the tops of the trees, much less the highest peak in North America.
Buddy and Steve in Talkeetna
The drive from Denali to Talkeetna was about two hours. That’s a long time for an aging bladder. Sure enough, about an hour into the trip, Buddy needed to stop.
Steve drove and Buddy rode shotgun, I curled up in the back seat and wandered in and out of consciousness. I felt the car stop and popped up. “What’s going on?”
“I need to go pee-pee,” Buddy answered, jumping out of the car.
Not a bad idea I thought. I could feel pressure in my bladder as well. I got out of the car and walked around to the roadside.
“Stop. Don’t watch!” Buddy yelled.
Being the gentleman that I am, I walked up the road about a hundred feet and turned my back. I was just done doing my business when I heard Buddy yell, “Help.”
I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I kept my back turned. “Help,” she yelled again, “I can’t get up.”
I turned and found her squatting in the bushes with her pants down. “My knees won’t work. I can’t get up.”
Now I wasn’t too fast on the uptake. Instead of pulling out my cell phone and taking a picture, I walked over, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up.
She was mightily embarrassed. “My legs failed me. I couldn’t get up,” she muttered as she got in the car.
Oh well, as the Bard said, “All’s well that ends well.”
We got to Talkeetna, Steve picked us up, and we headed to his cabin. Darla was not feeling well so she went straight home.
Steve’s cabin is a work in progress. The work is all professional quality (Steve does great work), but the plumbing isn’t in yet, and the wiring not complete. They have solar power, and the lights went off while I was getting ready for bed.
We had dinner and headed to bed. Buddy checked out before Steve and me. We sat and talked a bit, and I began to feel ill. My stomach heaved and I felt woozy. I knew these symptoms. I had full-fledged food-poisoning. I think it was bad reindeer.
I made a fast exit to the kitchen where I proceeded to throw up in the sink.
I fought it for a while, then I turned in. I went into the kitchen to wash my coffee cup and the storm started.
The deck was heaving, and I had to hold onto the sink to keep from being thrown from my feet. I hung on and looked out the window to see the extent of the storm.
The sky was overcast, and the rain dribbled, but there was no wind.
The deck heaved under my feet like I was in a force-5 gale. I clung to the wall and cabinets to make my way to the stairs. I grabbed onto the banister and eased my way down. When I got to the bottom, I had a problem. The deck was heaving and there was nothing to hold unto between me and the bed.
I ran for it. I stumbled across the room like a drunken sailor (get the reference?) and threw myself on the bed. I pulled myself up to a sitting position and the room swayed so badly that I thought I would fall over.
Remember I mentioned that I had Meniere’s disease? It hit full force. I was literally incapable of walking.
By the time I settled into bed, I wanted to die.
Steve drove and Buddy rode shotgun, I curled up in the back seat and wandered in and out of consciousness. I felt the car stop and popped up. “What’s going on?”
“I need to go pee-pee,” Buddy answered, jumping out of the car.
Not a bad idea I thought. I could feel pressure in my bladder as well. I got out of the car and walked around to the roadside.
“Stop. Don’t watch!” Buddy yelled.
Being the gentleman that I am, I walked up the road about a hundred feet and turned my back. I was just done doing my business when I heard Buddy yell, “Help.”
I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I kept my back turned. “Help,” she yelled again, “I can’t get up.”
I turned and found her squatting in the bushes with her pants down. “My knees won’t work. I can’t get up.”
Now I wasn’t too fast on the uptake. Instead of pulling out my cell phone and taking a picture, I walked over, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up.
She was mightily embarrassed. “My legs failed me. I couldn’t get up,” she muttered as she got in the car.
Oh well, as the Bard said, “All’s well that ends well.”
We got to Talkeetna, Steve picked us up, and we headed to his cabin. Darla was not feeling well so she went straight home.
Steve’s cabin is a work in progress. The work is all professional quality (Steve does great work), but the plumbing isn’t in yet, and the wiring not complete. They have solar power, and the lights went off while I was getting ready for bed.
We had dinner and headed to bed. Buddy checked out before Steve and me. We sat and talked a bit, and I began to feel ill. My stomach heaved and I felt woozy. I knew these symptoms. I had full-fledged food-poisoning. I think it was bad reindeer.
I made a fast exit to the kitchen where I proceeded to throw up in the sink.
I fought it for a while, then I turned in. I went into the kitchen to wash my coffee cup and the storm started.
The deck was heaving, and I had to hold onto the sink to keep from being thrown from my feet. I hung on and looked out the window to see the extent of the storm.
The sky was overcast, and the rain dribbled, but there was no wind.
The deck heaved under my feet like I was in a force-5 gale. I clung to the wall and cabinets to make my way to the stairs. I grabbed onto the banister and eased my way down. When I got to the bottom, I had a problem. The deck was heaving and there was nothing to hold unto between me and the bed.
I ran for it. I stumbled across the room like a drunken sailor (get the reference?) and threw myself on the bed. I pulled myself up to a sitting position and the room swayed so badly that I thought I would fall over.
Remember I mentioned that I had Meniere’s disease? It hit full force. I was literally incapable of walking.
By the time I settled into bed, I wanted to die.
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