My tired and bruised feet!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Haines, AK, USA to Congdon Creek Campground
Kluane Wildlife Sanctuary
Yukon Territory, Canada

OK folks, here’s where the story gets interesting. The Rockies are breathtaking, but this was indescribable. No major wildlife to report, a few black bears (pics) on the way. We made one sweeping turn that took us round a mountain base and across a wide span of Gladstone Creek. It was a wide valley of a riverbed, and the signs warned Rvs of turbulent cross winds. We didn’t experience any, but Roger and Anita did in their coach. The visitors’ center was just there, so we pulled in. A great center. They had powerful scopes trained on the Dall sheep herds high on the mountain ridge. Magnificent. We watched, photographed and grabbed more brochures and hurried down the road in search of our campground.. We were ahead of the Lounge Lizard Caravan so we picked out a site and set up. The Lake was vast and beautiful, the sites were wide and wooded and the MOSQUITOS were big, black, swarmed and plentiful. Holey moley. They attacked in regiments. They laughed in the face of death by deet, Johnson’s Backwoods Spray made them giddy with power. It would take great machetes to get through this jungle of bloodsuckers.

We joined up at the Mehlers campfire and the birds were closing in on us with songs and chit chat. They were “gray” Jays and were looking for an obviously accustomed hand out. They were almost eating bread out of Phyllis’ hand. entertainment As the sun dropped to the top of the Tioga, I figured it must be around 8PM. It was indeed 8:05! It was time to dig out of the mosquito swarm and go inside. Tomorrow was another day.

Barry made an early run into Destruction Bay and returned with the news that he had a dandy hiking trail, recommended by the counter girl. We gathered the troops, our lunch, water, binocs, fone (?) cameras and bear spray, bells and whistles and away we all went to Box Creek Trail. OMG It was a river bed/rock slide/foot bruiser of a walk. We got home around 1:30 somebody’s time. Without my fone, I can’t keep track of the time changes. By 3:00 we were ready to go again. This time, my suggestion.

Behind the visitor’s center is a remaining portion of the old Alaska road bed. At this section’s end are various trails that follow the sheep trails high into the mountain’s forest. The trail we chose, first one we came to, displayed a plaque dedicated to the memory of a woman who had died at the hands of a bear! A real confidence boost. Time to shake, rattle and roll anything that will make a noise. Larry and Barry had the bear spray, so everybody grouped around one or the other. With bear on our mind, we began to ascend a vigorous climb. It’s like the tortoise and the hare story. Larry is always the hare (being the baby of the group) and I’m always the tortoise (being the caravan elder), but we both manage to get where we’re headed, just not at the same time!

In the course of the trek, Larry got ahead of Anita and Roger who chose to head back. Phyllis, Barry and I were ambling up, up, up and saw bits and pieces of white fur. We then spied a large area under a tree where there where big pelts of fur scattered. Shudder, shudder. By now we had climbed enough that we could see lots and lots of animal trails leading to the places where we had seen the herds of sheep. Now we shaking the bells rattles our whistles and singing for all we were worth.

My progress was really slow, every few feet I would have to pause for a minute or two before climbing further. I just had to stay in the moment, one foot in front of the other, and I was ok. Of course we made it back to our vehicles safely, or you wouldn’t be reading this!

We had come in our truck with Anita and Roger, and Phyllis and Larry drove their jeep. We were about halfway back to the campground when we saw trucks and Rvs pulled over…..it had to be a bear. It was a young grizzly grazing right on the side of the road. It seemed to be all absorbed in the grasses and occasionally, would plunge into the earth with those long sharp claws, making holes as fast as you can imagine. People were pouring out of their vehicles and walking up to get their photos - ignorant. After quite a long time P and L headed on, but we were glued and mesmerized.

Little Grizzly started to move on and actually strolled right in front of our truck brushing against the grill. I had already penned its original name - Blondie, and the more we watched, the cuter Blondie became. Down toward the water now - for a swim? Catch a fish or two? Munch on the grasses there…of course… No - wait - Blondie stopped just before the water’s edge. With that, Blondie covered a sizeable section of the beach in poo! With our very own eyes, we watched….and, AND….I got the photos to prove it! Blondie then washed front paws in the lake. So cute. We watched as Blondie chose a rock or a fish from the water and played with it like a cat would - throw it up in the air and bat at it, pick it up and do it again. The a swim, then a sit in the water, then back to playing. The young grizzly walked along the water’s edge watching two ducks rapidly approaching. Now what. Duck soup? The ducks didn’t wait to find out, and Blondie watched as they flew away. There were remnants of a pier so the pilings became playthings…we watched as the young grizzly pushed each one down into the water! That done, Blondie strolled along, but we lost sight because of the bushes. Time to rash and tell Phyllis what she missed. That done, it was time to put my bruised feet and exhausted legs to bed!





from the MABARRY, over and out.