Denali NP

It’s June 2024 and we’re off on an adventure of JG’s choosing: Alaska. He planned this trip and then our wonderful travel agent Deborah worked out the details. First moral of today’s story: use a travel agent unless you really like spending hours shopping on the internet. Thanks to JG, to Deborah and to the accumulation of Marriott loyalty points, I have not been involved with the pre-trip planning. Of course, during the days packing for this trip, JG and I hurled quotes at each other, one of us citing Ed Viesturs and the other, Rick Steves. Look them up, Pilgrims. 
Second moral of today’s story: the locals make like the wildlife. Just as the moose and the bear spend the months between May and September eating constantly in order to survive the cold months, the Alaskans need to make all their tourist money during the warmer six months in order to survive the cold months. In the summer of the $22 sandwich and the $10 coffee, maximum coin to the natives during the warm months enables them to kick back during the winter. Coming from the Bay Area, I thought Alaskan prices are almost reasonable. But I overheard a lot of sticker shock among the patrons from America’s heartland. 
The visitors here are mostly large, pinkish, older and well-groomed. They smell like cologne and like Downy fabric softener. The women have expensive multi-toned hairstyles and fancy manicures with high-carat diamonds on their fingers. The men wear jackets with yacht club or golf club insignia. Denali Park visitors have come from the salon and the country club. Where were the long-haired dirt bags who live in their vans? My wanna-be tribe in the BTS (Beat to Shit) Subarus eating cashews, wearing Keens, smelling like B.O. and lecturing on climate justice?  

I overheard an Ohioan describing the river rafting trip he took as being like “Pirates of the Caribbean” at Disneyland. Fascinating, how Disneyland shapes the cultural landscape. But one of the scariest things I saw was this sign at the Denali Visitor Center. 

While waiting for our bus to leave, I saw two out of about fifty ladies fall while trying to board the neighboring bus. Heavens, they are frail and vulnerable out here away from help. 

Most of the tourists arrive by train or bus. Then they view the sights by bus. There is a crapton of scenery. Guides talk up the possible wildlife sightings. “Keep your eyes peeled. Look through the trees, not at them. Maybe you’ll see a moose! Or maybe an eagle!” I am unmoved. It reminds me of the stupid little tricks we played on each other when we were kids. “Look! There’s an eagle! … Aw, you missed it!”
Interesting is the wet spongy diverse micro-plant life covering the native soil. It forms valleys and hillocks and looks like moss, creepers, evergreens, and tiny flowers. The seep gardens of central California are often based in limestone or basalt. These seep gardens seem based on swamp. 

I am fascinated by tree formations that look like dragons. 

Also wildflowers catch my eye, many familiar from our trips through the PNW. 

As the onboard naturalist for this trip, I look for Nature. And by Jiminy, Nature looks for me.