Living in Alaska - Life in the Last Frontier

Yesterday, we woke to sunshine again, but it didn’t last all day unfortunately. Around 4pm, the rain came. And it came in buckets. The temperature dropped too, and we had to kick on the heat in the camper.

Steve went fishing yesterday morning (again, plenty of pinks but no silvers). When he got back, we leashed up Sedona and went for a walk on the Dock Point Trail. It’s less than a mile, but has a steep climb at the beginning. My glutes were burning, that’s for sure.

The Dock Point Trail winds through some pretty vegetation, and there are two overlooks with views of Valdez Bay. The last time I was on this trail, was when I learned that my mom had passed. Those memories came flooding back strongly. Hard to believe she’ll be gone two years on Sept 1st.

Here are photos I took from the Dock Point Trail:

There’s a beach here in Valdez. Granted, it’s a gravel beach, but the water is sheltered and shallow enough to do some splashing in. The other day, there were several families enjoying the sunshine with a dip in the water and some picnicking. Yesterday, no one was there.

After our walk, we dropped Sedona off at the camper, and headed out to the Old Valdez Townsite. On the way, we made a stop at the Valdez Glacier viewpoint. There were low hanging clouds, so we couldn’t see the glacier itself, but there were icebergs in the glacier lake.

At the location of Old Valdez, there are a few informational signs which tell about the various buildings that used to stand there. When the big earthquake of 1964 hit, the original town was destroyed by not only the ground dropping into the bay, but by the resulting tsunami too. All that’s left are concrete foundations in some places.

A gravel road took us out to a marsh. A stream wound its way inland from the bay. In the stream were salmon, fighting their way against the current. Hundreds of gulls and other seabirds were dining on fish entrails. The smell of rotten fish was overpowering, so we didn’t stay too long. The view of the mountains across the grassy marsh was beautiful.

Our next stop was the Valdez Pioneer Cemetery. There aren’t any directional signs leading to it, but we remembered the street we needed to turn on to get to it. It’s also on the edge of the marsh near the bay - a very peaceful and beautiful location.

The Old Valdez Cemetery was in use from the late 1890s through 1916. It wasn’t the only cemetery used in Valdez at the time. Records indicate that there were approximately 60 residents buried in this cemetery, but after years of neglect only 32 gravesites could be found. It is unknown why this cemetery was abandoned, but some think that it was to create another cemetery closer to the road which was more convenient for the townsfolk.

There’s a sign which reads:

The deep water, ice free port and nearby mountain passes leading to the Yukon and Alaska gold fields, made Valdez an ideal starting point for the rush to the North. Many people risked the harsh conditions to seek their fortunes by mining and prospecting, while others saw more opportunity in providing supplies and services for the gold seekers. Some just passed through town, while others established homes and businesses. In this cemetery lie some of those brave adventurers and their followers or dependents. May they rest in Peace.

There are two graves located outside the cemetery boundaries. One grave is that of Geneva Harris Braxton and the other belongs to Josephine Zaroff (18 months old). It is thought that these graves were set outside the boundaries because these individuals were ‘non-white’. According to signage, Geneva was a “mulatto woman”, married to a white man. She and her husband owned and operated the Glacier House - a roadhouse located 70 miles from Valdez. Little Josephine Zaroff was a native child.

One of the grave markers we found was a real surprise. James Howell was born in 1815 and died in 1916 - at the ripe old age of 101. How amazing is that?!

On the way back to the campground, we stumbled upon a hidden lake. There was a young family with a toddler enjoying the peace and quiet of this hidden gem. There was a tree swing at the edge too. It was easy to imagine peals of kid laughter at this pretty little spot.

As we drove through town on the way back to the campground, I asked Steve to stop off at the huge carved statue created by Peter Wolf Toth so I could get a photograph.

From Wikipedia:

Peter Wolf Toth (born December 1947) is a Hungarian-born sculptor who immigrated to the United States and settled in Akron, Ohio. He later studied art at the University of Akron. He created a series of sculptures called “Trail of the Whispering Giants” to honor Native Americans. Overall, he has created more than 60 sculptures, including at least one in each state of the United States and several provinces of Canada.

I had some kind of a bug hit me last night. Steve cooked up a delicious meal of steak, baked potatoes and corn for dinner. A few hours later, I started getting shooting pains in my stomach. We went to bed, and I tossed and turned for about an hour trying to get comfortable. Nothing helped.

Once the nausea hit, I knew it was going to be a bad night. And it was. Ugh.

I feel marginally better this morning. I managed to get coffee and a bagel down, but my stomach is still not altogether settled. I hope I’m feeling back to normal by tomorrow - and our wildlife cruise.

The weather today is overcast and chilly. I don’t want to waste the day, so we’re going to go out and walk around town in a little bit. Have rain gear, will travel. *grin*