Juneau

High St Juneau

 

Anchorage may be the largest town in Alaska but down the road a few hundred kilometres is the capital city of Juneau, a larger coastal town of 31000 people. This is the centre of black bear country and they can be found regularly wandering through town. What is strange for a capital city is that Juneau is only accessible by air or water.

Many of the local people in this area fly floatplane aircraft the way others might drive the family car to and from the shops. The town has some interesting architectural features if you can see past all the “Big Sale” signs. Behind the main street are many Government buildings as Juneau is the Alaskan Capital The main Juneau shopping district is flagrantly pitched at the cruise ship market with three or so streets full of t-shirts, winter jackets and diamonds. Yes, diamonds are the specialty of this town allegedly cheaper than elsewhere in the world but they are not (shhh! Don’t tell the tourists).

There were three ships in port as we docked so there was plenty of eager tourist dollars up for grabs. Everything in town was lauded as being 50% off or more which was a little suspicious as the signs looked several seasons old.

As an example, a friend wanted to buy a diamond bracelet that was tagged at $US88000. Over the course of the day, and four visits, we got the price down through $50000, then $30000 and at the end of the day a last offer of $13000 + 5% sales tax. We settled on $US11000 flat and got an appraisal for $US24000.  Can you figure that out?

Enough talk of shopping, we took to the air in a Sea Otter floatplane to go salmon fishing up river. In the air we passed over several active glaciers and landed upriver at Taku Lodge. This lodge is famous for the story of one of its owners, Mary Joyce.

In the early 1920’s, Mary was the private nurse for the owner of the lodge, Hack Smith, the son of a wealthy lumber baron. Similar to the way Rose Porteous inherited a good part of Australian mining baron Lang Hancocks wealth, for services rendered, so did Mary. Mary became owner of the mountain lodge after Hack unsuspiciously died of a heart attack whilst hunting.

One day Mary decided that she needed bread and milk so decided to run her dogs down the road to Fairbanks and while there attend the Ice Carnival and maybe sell a dog or two. Some planning was needed for this, as Fairbanks was one thousand miles away so Mary allowed three months for the snow trek. The wooden sled was dusted off, the huskies all tethered up; a few Mars bars in the backpack and off she went. Mary averaged 20 miles a day in temperatures of -20 degrees celcius, quite a feat for anyone but quite a feat for a woman in the 1930’s.

Mary is a rightfully a bit of a heroine in these parts and the Spartan Taku Lodge is a humble shrine to her strength of character and resilience in an unforgiving climate and a male dominated time in history.

The fishing was great and the eating was better, washed down with Alaskan brew. Ten salmon gave their lives to the cause barbequed over Alder pinewood with brown sugar and bush lime.  

For those of you, who have read this far, firstly thank you, and secondly, allow me to share a fleeting personal experience some might measure as being one of those important moments in life. Satiated from a hearty lunch, I went outside to sit on the verandah and take in the Taku Glacier creeping slowly towards me in front of the lodge.

I immersed myself in the sounds of the cracking glacier opposite the lodge and the sight of majestic fir and snow covered mountains that towered above when a feeling welled up that I was unable to identify or control. Surprisingly, unchecked tears ran down my cheek in a silent conversation with nature that words cannot define or explain. I share this as I think I was meant to. It was fleeting, it was from somewhere deep inside and I have never felt it before. Nature was speaking to me and I could hear it. One of my friends then called to me and the moment was lost but the conversation will be with me forever.  

You might not need to come to Alaska to converse with nature but it sure has all the necessary elements and is beautiful beyond words. Add this to your bucket list, at the top.  

So, enough of that metrosexual malarkey, and back on the float plane to Juneau. We headed straight for one of the seven places on earth that you must eat at in your life, “Tracy’s King Crab Shack” on the waterfront. It is a shabby little caravan with a less than clean and semi water repellant tent erected beside it but the food is first rate and the ambience a unique experience. We ordered a plate of King Crab and a few beers and toasted life.

I am now reflecting on a very new and humbling experience that I do not yet understand.