Alaska: Day 2: 7-7-93: Glacier Bay - A One Horse Town

8:30 a.m.

Unfortunately, I had a fitful night's sleep. Part of the insomnia was undoubtedly caused by my excitement at having arrived in "The Land of the Midnight Sun." The other part was my inability to cope with said solar coup. I fear it will take my body a while to adjust to a 1:30 a.m. sunset and a 3:30 a.m. sunrise. Even the two hours of "night" is a joke, because it touches merely the fringes of dusk. Well, I'm sure I'll adapt eventually, but right now I feel like proverbial shit.

In my never-ending quest to spend as much time as humanly possible in airports, I "woke up" at 5:30 a.m. and took the 6:50 a.m. bus to the airport -- even though my flight doesn't leave until 11:00. (Is he bonkers, you ask?! No. It's just that the cheapest transportation is the $1 People Mover Bus -- my shoestring budget doesn't allow for the luxury of another taxi ride -- and its hours are absolutely ridiculous! After this 6:50 shuttle, the next bus doesn't run until 3:30. What's the Deal?!!) So here I sit at 8:45 a.m. in the outrageously priced Food Court inside the Anchorage Airport, hoping beyond all hopes that I can kill two hours relatively painlessly. The fun doesn't end here though, because I can look forward to a four hour wait in the Juneau Airport before my second-leg flight leaves for Gustavus (Glacier Bay).

Enough about that. On a lighter note, I ordered the "Breakfast Special" and was afforded the opportunity to savor my first taste of reindeer meat. Once I overcame my initial aversion to consuming one of Santa's Helpers (Was it Dasher or Blitzen or one of the others? Please don't let it be Rudolph -- he's had a tough time of it already, not being able to play in any reindeer games, and all), my taste buds informed me that it was pretty good stuff. Basically, it tastes like sausage and resembles cut frankfurter.

As a final point, I must mention that I was trepidacious, indeed, to check my backpack on another plane, so I sought "carry-on" status for it. But after quibbling with (and soundly losing to) a flight attendant with a bee up her butt, I begrudgingly acquiesced (though I was smart enough to remove all the buckles).

1:20 p.m.

"Excuse me, Miss -- Juneau where I am?" (No response) "Oh well, Alaska later!" As evidenced by these half-hearted puns, I am desperately trying to fritter away a suicide-inducing wait at the Juneau Airport. One hour down . . . a scant three to go!

Before this mind-numbing stopover, I was feeling pretty good. Although in an aisle seat once again, I had a better view out the airplane window. The mountains were glorious: sharp, frosted peaks as far as the eye could see. Slithering around the colossal granite outcroppings were ophidian rivers, glittering reminders of the ancient paths of determined glaciers.

Somewhat awestruck by the view, I didn't even mind the airline lunch, unbelievably my third such processed, reheated Chock Full O' Preservatives entree in 24 hours. These mummified meals, along with a half dozen bags of salt-infested peanuts, have served as my main source of sustenance since leaving New York. I sure hope this is not indicative of my diet for the rest of the trip -- unaccustomed as I am to junk food, my body will surely revolt. I can just hear my family and friends cheering me on, applauding this new ("more normal") diet. Sorry to disappoint you folks, but my body is a temple, and I plan to get back to a healthier lifestyle real soon. . .

. . . In the meantime, however, I think I'll go grab another bag of peanuts and get wasted at the airport bar.

10:00 p.m.

After imbibing an "Alaska" brand pale ale, I read another hundred pages of The Firm until my flight arrived. This time I had a window seat (indeed, I had my choice of dozens of seats, the plane being only a quarter full) and lucky I did! Cruising at an amazingly low altitude of 6,000 feet, I saw some of the most majestic scenery yet . . . mountains, snow, rivers, bays, countless acres of pine trees . . . green on black, white on green, blue on white. . . earthy, refreshing, alive! We flew above at least two Piper planes: I sat slack-jawed as we passed over them -- I've never seen other airplanes out of a jet window before, let alone so close by. Finally, we descended to the runway, spooking a flock of seagulls (the birds, not the band), who uniformly dipped away in an alabaster wave.

Getting off the plane proved to be interesting, because we deplaned outside on the open tarmac -- I felt like a guest star on Fantasy Island ("smiles everyone, smiles").

----------------------------------------My Ride-------------------------------------------

The Glacier Bay Lodge Bus took me, of all places, to the Glacier Bay Lodge. The population of Glacier Bay is about 200: there is one street, three stop signs, zero stop lights, one gas station, one post office, one store, one restaurant and one school (with a June 1993 graduating class of two). That's it! I'm not kidding! That's the whole town!

We arrived at the Lodge, and I went straight to the men's dorm facility where I met the only other occupant. His name is Steve, and he has been in Alaska for two months. He's a 20-year-old Industrial Design major (he designs and constructs bicycles) from Oakland, CA. He seems like a nice enough guy, and we hit it off pretty well. He's going on the same cruise as I tomorrow, so we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other. At Steve's suggestion, I decided to hike the scenic Bartlett River Trail. After a slow start (I was a little rusty, hungry and tired), I really got into the hike, and it was a beauty. It was a rugged, winding trail which went through a wonderfully lush rainforest replete with towering Sitka Spruce, Hemlock and Alder, and carpeted with moss and fern.



------------A Rainforest Scene Along The Bartlett River Trail-----------

The trail ranged from rocky outcrops to manmade wooden bridges to muddy quagmires, finally ending at a natural estuary, breathtaking in its scope and diversity. A grassy field gave way to a mini waterfall and a rocky stream -- bordered by bright purple patches of Alaskan Fireweed -- which in turn, gave way to Glacier Bay itself, peppered with some heavily forested islands. Beyond the bay were sparkling mountaintops. Wow!

-------------------------------------Alaskan Fireweed----------------------------------

After taking a few well-planned pictures and suffering at least three of the infamous Alaskan mosquito bites (natives jokingly refer to the mosquito as their state bird), I took one last longing look and beat a hasty retreat. I was itchy and starving (it was now 9:00 but as bright as noon), and I made it back to the lodge in record time.

I ran to the Lodge restaurant, and even though I flinched at the prices ($17.50 on up), I decided to treat myself to my first real meal. I bought the Alaskan Sampler, a thoroughly delicious combination of baked Alaskan Salmon, beer battered halibut and Dungeness Crab. It was excellent, and I managed not to cry when the check was presented.

Well, it is 10:45, and I'm too pooped to pop! I think I shall leave the warm comfort of my fireside berth in the lodge and head back to the dorm. I have a long day tomorrow (the cruise leaves at 6:45 a.m.), and tomorrow night I sleep on Mt. Cooper!!