Mt. McKinley in full view!
As most weekends come and go, Mike and I experience some kind of Alaskan adventure. This past weekend was no different. On Sunday, Mike and I went down to the Salcha River in search for fresh raspberries. When we arrived, we decided to have our lunch under the shade of a beautiful Alaskan Birch tree. Once we finished our “gourmet” ham sandwiches and trail mix (we eat good you know!), we set out on our quest for berries. Within seconds, we found bushes loaded with red, luscious raspberries. An hour into picking, I looked at Mike’s bucket and was in shock. His bucket was not nearly as full as mine. Where were all the berries? Then I heard Mike mumble, “One berry for the bucket and two for me. Two berries for the bucket, three for me.” Without wasting any more thoughts on Mike’s berry picking, I realized that I would bring home the berries and Mike would eat them. At the end of the day, we brought home 1 ½ gallons of raspberries.
Since I have this week off, Mike and I drove to Denali National Park on Monday. Mike had planned a nice, easy hike for us to Mt. Margaret. Arriving at Savage River, we put on our backpacks and headed for the hills. On the short walk to the starting point of our hike, I read through the “Hiking Denali” book that Mike had used to plan our hike. I wanted to know more about our easy hike. The first thing I read was, “Beware of Bears.” This was very comforting. On this nice, easy hike, we could encounter bears. So, in reality, a nice, easy hike could turn into an encounter with a massive, sharp-clawed, man-eating grizzly.
Without anymore thoughts of bears, Mike and I headed up hill. We passed through patches of blueberries. Occasionally, Mike would reach down, pick a few, pop them in his mouth and then smile as he swallowed. At this point in our journey the most ferocious thing we encountered were marmots. Marmots are small rodent-like animals that make their homes by burrowing holes in the ground or living in one of the many rock formations.
After about an hour of climbing what seemed to be straight up the mountain, I began to get tired and my feet were burning with blisters. When Mike and I stopped for a break, I looked at my dear, sweet husband and said, “Honey, how are you feeling? Is this hike as easy as you thought it would be? I’m hurting!”
He looked at me with smugness and replied, “I feel fine. I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.”
Did my ears deceive me or did I just hear my husband joke about my age? With a grimace, I retorted, “You’re day is coming!”
Four hours later, Mike and I were within view of the peak of Mt. Margaret. The only thing that stood in the way of us reaching our goal was a heard of Dahl sheep. From a distance, these sheep looked cute and harmless as they grazed on the tasty, mountain grass. Thinking of how nice it would be to get some close up pictures of Dahl sheep, we moved in closer. The male sheep had his back end to us. I began to take some pictures when I noticed a female sheep looking at us. She was grazing with her baby lamb. As she gazed down upon us, she began to look a little agitated. I nudged Mike and said, “Hey. Look at that one. She looks mean.”
As I said those words, she began charging down the hill towards us! I yelled at Mike to give me the bear spray. Surely, bear spray would work on a sheep. I know it’s not sheep spray, but I didn’t think she would notice. In my panic, I heard Mike yelling, “Go! Go! Go! Get down the hill!”
I turned to look at Mike and he was high-tailing it down the hill. Then, I turned to look at Mama Sheep and she was still headed my way. Without further thought, I sprinted down the hill after Mike. I never knew a 40 year old woman could run that fast. I’m almost positive that I could have outrun any Olympic athlete. As I passed Mike, I smiled and said, “See ya at the bottom, kiddo!”
I finally ran out of breath about half-way down the mountain. The sheep was long gone and out of site. After a short rest, Mike and I made our way back to the bottom and to the Savage River. Without giving much thought to our sheep encounter, we took off our shoes and soaked our tired, sore feet in the ice-cold glacial waters.
With our feet feeling somewhat rejuvenated, Mike and I began our drive back to Fairbanks. As we sat in the car for the 2 hour drive, our muscles began to stiffen. When we arrived at home, we took hot showers, crawled (and I mean crawled) into bed and drifted off to sleep.
About an hour later, Mike awoke screaming like a little girl. “Help! Help!” With tears streaming down his face, he kept screaming in pain. I did not know what was happening. Should I call 911? As I tried to assess what could possibly be happening that would create such agony, I finally realized that he was having leg cramps. Mike Calvin’s famous words rang in my head, “I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.” Ohhh, this would be worth every blister on my feet. However, I could wait to rub it in until later. I heated a hot pack for his legs and wiped the sweat from his brow. As I watched the pain give way to sleep, I turned over, smiled to myself and replayed the day’s events until my eyes gently closed and I was asleep.
Since I have this week off, Mike and I drove to Denali National Park on Monday. Mike had planned a nice, easy hike for us to Mt. Margaret. Arriving at Savage River, we put on our backpacks and headed for the hills. On the short walk to the starting point of our hike, I read through the “Hiking Denali” book that Mike had used to plan our hike. I wanted to know more about our easy hike. The first thing I read was, “Beware of Bears.” This was very comforting. On this nice, easy hike, we could encounter bears. So, in reality, a nice, easy hike could turn into an encounter with a massive, sharp-clawed, man-eating grizzly.
Without anymore thoughts of bears, Mike and I headed up hill. We passed through patches of blueberries. Occasionally, Mike would reach down, pick a few, pop them in his mouth and then smile as he swallowed. At this point in our journey the most ferocious thing we encountered were marmots. Marmots are small rodent-like animals that make their homes by burrowing holes in the ground or living in one of the many rock formations.
After about an hour of climbing what seemed to be straight up the mountain, I began to get tired and my feet were burning with blisters. When Mike and I stopped for a break, I looked at my dear, sweet husband and said, “Honey, how are you feeling? Is this hike as easy as you thought it would be? I’m hurting!”
He looked at me with smugness and replied, “I feel fine. I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.”
Did my ears deceive me or did I just hear my husband joke about my age? With a grimace, I retorted, “You’re day is coming!”
Four hours later, Mike and I were within view of the peak of Mt. Margaret. The only thing that stood in the way of us reaching our goal was a heard of Dahl sheep. From a distance, these sheep looked cute and harmless as they grazed on the tasty, mountain grass. Thinking of how nice it would be to get some close up pictures of Dahl sheep, we moved in closer. The male sheep had his back end to us. I began to take some pictures when I noticed a female sheep looking at us. She was grazing with her baby lamb. As she gazed down upon us, she began to look a little agitated. I nudged Mike and said, “Hey. Look at that one. She looks mean.”
As I said those words, she began charging down the hill towards us! I yelled at Mike to give me the bear spray. Surely, bear spray would work on a sheep. I know it’s not sheep spray, but I didn’t think she would notice. In my panic, I heard Mike yelling, “Go! Go! Go! Get down the hill!”
I turned to look at Mike and he was high-tailing it down the hill. Then, I turned to look at Mama Sheep and she was still headed my way. Without further thought, I sprinted down the hill after Mike. I never knew a 40 year old woman could run that fast. I’m almost positive that I could have outrun any Olympic athlete. As I passed Mike, I smiled and said, “See ya at the bottom, kiddo!”
I finally ran out of breath about half-way down the mountain. The sheep was long gone and out of site. After a short rest, Mike and I made our way back to the bottom and to the Savage River. Without giving much thought to our sheep encounter, we took off our shoes and soaked our tired, sore feet in the ice-cold glacial waters.
With our feet feeling somewhat rejuvenated, Mike and I began our drive back to Fairbanks. As we sat in the car for the 2 hour drive, our muscles began to stiffen. When we arrived at home, we took hot showers, crawled (and I mean crawled) into bed and drifted off to sleep.
About an hour later, Mike awoke screaming like a little girl. “Help! Help!” With tears streaming down his face, he kept screaming in pain. I did not know what was happening. Should I call 911? As I tried to assess what could possibly be happening that would create such agony, I finally realized that he was having leg cramps. Mike Calvin’s famous words rang in my head, “I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.” Ohhh, this would be worth every blister on my feet. However, I could wait to rub it in until later. I heated a hot pack for his legs and wiped the sweat from his brow. As I watched the pain give way to sleep, I turned over, smiled to myself and replayed the day’s events until my eyes gently closed and I was asleep.
Fresh raspberries waiting to be eaten by Mike.
Kristie picking berries, NOT eating them.
Mt. McKinley in the distance
Mike and Kristie, before the pain began.
View of the Salvage River and valley.
Mike is feeling good. Wait until 1:30 a.m.!
With no one within ear shot, Mike practices his yodeling. 
Kristie rethinks this hike after finding multiple blisters on her feet.
Mike takes in the view.
Kristie takes pictures of Mt. McKinley.
Marmots are plentiful in Denali National Park.
A caribou grazes in Denali.Alaskan Wildfires
Smoke from fires between Nenana and Fairbanks rage out of control.
The sun glows an eerie red through the smoke and ash.
Visibility is reduced to under a mile because of the smoke.
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