Adventure travel Alaska style: Glacier flying

by Kent Wien on

If you’ve ever wanted to see Alaska’s beauty, but had no interest in hunting or fishing or if you think a cruise just isn’t thrilling enough, maybe you should consider a little glacier flying.

Having grown up in Alaska, I’ve always told my visiting friends that the airplane was the only way to unlock the most spectacular sights in the state. Sure, you can drive less than fifty miles from Anchorage to view the Portage glacier from a distance, but a helicopter or airplane tour is something you’ll never forget.

To get an idea what glacier flying is all about, just take a quick ride with Jerry Kallam, a pilot out of Palmer who’s about to take off from the Knik glacier. Strap into his Piper Super Cub by hitting play below. He’ll give you just enough time to fasten your seatbelt before starting the engine:

If simply landing on a glacier isn’t exciting enough, Matthew Keller of Blue Ice Aviation will fly you out for some glacier biking. Matthew claims it’s like mountain biking in Moab, Utah, even though the mountain you’re crossing is actually a glacier. He’ll provide the bikes and the experience includes much of the same views that Jerry captured above.

The other option might be a bit more tame and family friendly. Take the Alaska Railroad up to Talkeetna, where you’ll have an assortment of air taxis willing to land you and a few friends on a glacier, with some even offering a dog sled trip.

My wife and I did this years ago with Era Helicopters, and they even provided a crab lunch right next to the glacier. Think of it as adventure travel without the ice picks and crampons.

For those of you committed to a cruise up the inside passage, you can still get a bit of fresh air as well. Era and Temsco Helicopters both fly glacier tours out of Juneau and Skagway that are often offered through the cruise lines.

Afterward, you can rest assured that you’ve gone above and beyond what the average Alaska tourist or resident has experienced. To really see 99% of Alaska, you’ll absolutely need to leave the roads behind.

Kent Wien writes The Cockpit Chronicles for Gadling. If flying between glaciers isn’t for you, then come along with Kent as he takes you behind the scenes of airline travel, as seen from the pointy-end.

Alaska national parks: choose your own adventure

by Catherine Bodry on

You’ve probably heard of Denali National Park, home to the tallest mountain in North America. And if you’ve taken an Alaskan cruise you might have also visited Glacier Bay National Park. But a rental car and a willingness to venture off the tourist track will reward you with rich and wild experiences that many folks miss on a trip to Alaska.

Following are two lesser-known national parks that are a day’s drive from Anchorage, but first, a fact: four of the five biggest national parks in the US are in Alaska, and seven out of ten. They are home to grizzlies, caribou, salmon, and eagles, among many, many others.

The biggest national park in the US, Wrangell-St. Elias, is accessible by car and about a six-hour drive from Anchorage. It’s home to several 16,000ft-plus mountains, as well as well as the second-highest peak in the US, Mount St. Elias, which measures in at just over 18,000 feet. Once there, you can visit the historic Kennecott Mine, and drive the road to McCarthy.Much closer to Anchorage is Kenai Fjords National Park, a stunner bordering my hometown of Seward. Though most of the park is accessible only by boat (and there are plenty of tours out there), you can drive to Exit Glacier. Here you’ll find a small visitor’s center with guided hikes. Those with gumption and muscles can follow a long, difficult trail up to the Harding Ice Field – one of my favorite hikes and a truly rewarding one.

For more information on Alaska’s national parks, visit the NPS page on the state and follow the links.

The Alaskan roadhouse experience

by Catherine Bodry on

Last month, Up Here Magazine ran a feature on the end of the roadhouse. Even if you’ve never stopped at a roadhouse while driving long distances, you’re likely familiar with the sight of them: generally a larger main building with a few gas pumps and a small restaurant, and several cabins fanning out on either side. These days, many of them are sagging in the weeds and boarded up.

Up Here cites highway improvements and a drop in tourists for the shuttering of so many roadhouses along the Alaska Highway (or “Alcan”).

Though I usually camp off the side of the road when I dive the Alcan (I’ve made the 2500 mile drive from Seattle to Anchorage five times), I’m familiar with many of the grilled cheese sandwiches available along the way. I even had a toothless, bearded old sourdough recently offer to buy me and my friends shots at a roadhouse along the Richardson Highway. Authentic roadhouse experiences are clearly still available.

Though there are more derelict than functioning roadhouses these days, there is still a few you can visit in Alaska:Eureka Lodge: Billing itself as a lodge, which surely appeals to Anchorage residents wanting to take a long weekend in the mountains, Eureka nonetheless offers the standard roadhouse atmo. Cabins, a restaurant and lounge, a grocery and liquor store and gas pumps make this place a great stopover as you’re rolling into southcentral Alaska.

Steese Roadhouse: Way up on the Steese Highway outside of Fairbanks, this joint doesn’t even have a website. It has all the roadhouse standards, and is pictured above.

Silver Fox Roadhouse: Free coffee, cabins, and local gossip. The roadhouse also appeals to hunters and fishermen.

There are plenty more out there that simply aren’t on the web – maybe it’s time to plan a road trip and discover this dwindling part of American travel.

Only in Alaska: Driving the Alaska highway

by Catherine Bodry on

Driving the Alaska Highway (casually called the “Alcan”) is the ultimate road trip: more than 1400 miles of road, filled with mountain ranges,spindly boreal forests, po-dunk diner-and-gas-station towns, bison herds, scenic detours and flying gravel. Constructed as a link between Alaska and the contiguous US, the highway was completed in 1943, though the regions harsh environment forces nearly-constant upkeep.

If you decide you need a vehicle in Alaska, which is wise for extended stays considering the lack of decent transportation and the vast expanse of the state, you’ll need to get it up here. You’ve got three options: put your car on a barge and fly up, drive your car onto the ferry and ride up, or drive the Alaska highway.

The last option is likely the least expensive, and gives you a sense of just how remote Alaska is. Though the Alaska highway officially starts in Dawson Creek, Canada, and ends in Delta Junction, Alaska, your drive will be much longer. With gravel sections, frost heaves, inclement weather, and long stretches between towns, it’s important that you’re fully prepared for the unique conditions of driving to Alaska.

  • First, when planning your road trip make sure you give yourself enough time. You’ll likely be averaging less than 60 miles per hour on the trip – count on 40mph when you calculate your driving time. I’ve driven the Anchorage-Seattle route five times, and each trip has taken me at least three days; it’s around 52 hours of driving. On these drives I’ve encountered snow, road construction that held me up for at least an hour, full hotels, and a dead iPod battery that left me in radio silence for hours.
  • Even if you’re planning on staying in roadside motels — and have booked rooms in advance — bring a warm sleeping bag in case you break down. My first two trips I got rooms at the last minute, but now I usually set my tent up on the side of the road, out of view, somewhere. It’s much cheaper and I’m less tempted to sleep in and get the day’s driving started later.

Ditto for food; consider making up a batch of sandwiches before you leave so you’ll have something besides Doritos to dip into while driving.

  • Make the usual preparations such as checking your oil, filling your tires, making sure your spare tire is full and that your car is in good shape.
  • Have a detailed map so that you can gauge your next gas stop. Remember that from September to May, many small gas stations and motels close for the season. Your best bet is to fill up whenever you come across a gas station.

Detours:

No trip up the Alcan is complete without a soak at Liard Hot Springs. An almost ethereal environment, with turquoise soaking pools, gentle waterfalls, and steam blurring the leafy green trees above, Liard feels worlds away from the endless highway.

A long, scenic side trip is up the Stewart-Cassiar Highway, which winds 450 miles east of the Alcan. The Cassiar is narrower and than the Alaska highway, twistier and with fewer services. However, a cool detour (from the detour) is the border downs of Stewart and Hyder. These little towns sit next each other from across the Canadian-American border, and the only access to the American Hyder is either threw Stewart or up the narrow, 70-mile Portland Canal.

You can also visit Skagway or Haines via the South Klondike Highway or the Haines Highway, respectively. Both towns connect to the Alaska Marine Highway, another type of road trip in itself.

For more dispatches from the 49th state, click here!

Ten passengers we love to hate: Day 3 – Baggage claim vultures

by Catherine Bodry on

We already covered passengers who won’t move to the right on the escalator, and those who bring hot, smelly foods on to the plane. But my personal (non)favorite is those folks who press their shins right up the baggage claim conveyor belt, in the hopes that it might help them spot/claim/get to their bags faster.

People! At the Anchorage airport, there is a bright yellow line painted all the way around and about a foot and a half away from the baggage claim belt. This line is for you: it quite clearly indicates that you should remain at least that far away, so that other people can see and grab their bags.

The last thing I feel like doing after being crammed into a germy metal tube for however many hours is bump shoulders with and act polite to folks crowding around the luggage carousel. When you stand right up against it, not only do I have to crane my neck and hop up and down like a deranged cheerleader in order to spot my luggage, I also have to wade through you and others like you to try to get it. If everyone would just mind the yellow line, then every single person would be able to spot their luggage and not have to body slam accidentally bump into those who hover like vultures.

For more passengers we just love to hate, click here.