Page 5 of 15
Homer, Alaska
Well we knew we missed the boat and we'd already missed the plane
This is Alaska.
Heading south from Anchorage there is something that looks suspiciously like a freeway. There are two lanes in each direction, controlled access points, big signs. About a mile later it looks less like a freeway but its still nothing to worry about, the divided part of the highway is gone but the extra lanes remain. By the time you get to Homer after driving the entire length of the Sterling Highway four hours later such conveniences will all be a distant memory. In Alaska a highway is what we might call a two lane road, a town is what we might call, well, nothing at all.
If you are lucky enough to make it to Alaska and smart enough to head south to the Kenai Peninsula (pronounced Key-nye), you'll find both sides of the road beautiful but the right side a little more distracting. The Seward Highway parallels Turnagain Arm (named by a sarcastic Captain Cook who at the time was looking for a Northwest Passage that just didn't exist), a piece of the Pacific ringed by snow covered mountains and dotted with enough scenic pullovers to make even Captain Cook want to stop and enjoy the view ever now and then.
One of the best ways to get around a big state is by a small plane, something even someone like I was able to sometimes take advantage of for a short but especially memorable day trip to Hallo Bay at Katmai National Park (see next page). That part of Alaska is wonderfully isolated, it is a place that is hundreds and hundreds of miles from the North American road network and where the plane's runway is often mistakenly referred to as the beach.
While the destination may have been Hallo Bay, the trip there wasn't all that bad either. From Homer (at the very end of the Alaska State Highway #1) the trip across the Cook Inlet was framed with distant volcanoes and glaciers that felt close enough to touch. After some back at home again research, I confirmed that this is in fact Fourpeaked Glacier, which is conveniently located right next to Fourpeaked Volcano (the high one on the left). Not sure what the glacial melt lake is called, but if I had to guess I'd probably go with Fourpeaked Lake.
Flying back from Katmai and near Seldovia, where the skies were clear but not as clear as intended. Dry conditions and a local idiot in Ninilchik who was grinding a shovel and had no fire extinguisher handy had mistakenly destroyed over eighty square miles of forest. The fire started on my first day in Homer (I had nothing to do with starting it and nobody can prove otherwise) and continued well after the rain started and I was already up in Denali.
The Homer Spit lies at the very end of the Sterling Highway (Alaska Route #1) and extends from the town of Homer over four miles into the open waters of Kachemak Bay. Most of the narrow Spit is open, although there is a commercial area, a few marinas, the road itself and at the very end a landmark hotel with unparalleled views toward the bay and away from the Spit. The road out to Lands End is the same as the balance of the Sterling Highway (one lane each direction with occasional passing zones) and is also marked as a Tsunami Evacuation Route, something which makes sense considering it is the only road in or out to safety. The area is prone to earthquakes (you know, that whole Pacific Ring of Fire thing) making the Tsunami threat both real and not (practically) survivable. Under normal conditions the trip from Lands End to high (enough) safe ground is at least a good fifteen minutes, one can only imagine that taking a bit longer during whatever panic might ensue when that Tsunami decides to show up.
The small Cessna plane that faithfully ferried me back and forth to Katmai held six people, a number which included a pilot and no co-pilot. Since I was traveling by myself I was given the co-pilots seat and able to pretend for an hour or two that I had more responsibilities than just taking a picture or two. What surprised me most from the cockpit was how bad the view was, the instrument panel was so large that the front window wasn't all that visible. That and flying a fairly old Cessna appears to be a hell of a lot of work.
Three more slides from my flight to Katmai National Park where I would foolishly walk among grizzly bears (those start on the next page). As amazing as that experience was, the way there wasn't too bad either. These pictures are somewhat self explanatory with the exception of the first. This top picture shows the very end of the Homer Spit in all its glory, suspended in the bay in every direction and an amazing place to be. I was able to secure a view room at the Lands End Resort at the very tip of the Spit, where my window looked out onto the beach, across the sea and straight to the Kenai Mountains. From my hotel window I was able to spot harbor seals and sea otters, as well as a rather rude sun that refused to set (or even pretend to set) throughout the entire length of my Alaskan trip. Damn stupid good for nothing sun.
Back in Homer, back on the Spit, where the smoke from the runaway Ninilchik fire is almost strong enough to fake a sunset. Almost.
