I woke up around 6:00 am. Taking a moment to orient myself, I wandered over to the window. I realized where I was the minute I saw the jagged line of mountains guarding the entrance to Alaska’s Denali National Park, trying to defend against a small army of gift shops that pop up in late May. I also remembered how jam-packed the day was supposed to be. My parents were already up and packing. I joined them to help complete the task, and pretty soon we were enjoying our breakfast in the hotel’s dining room. While my mom went to the front desk to confirm the departure time for our first adventure of the day and my dad went to get the backpacks, I grabbed a couple of rather tasteless scones, and put them in my backpack (knowing we planned to skip lunch). Walking through the lobby, I stopped short in front of a six foot tall stuffed bear standing smack-dab in the middle of the room, wondering how I missed seeing it when we arrived the night before. I was about to dismiss it from my mind, and move on, when a bellboy walked over and asked, “Do you know the story behind this bear?”   When I answered “No,” he proceeded to tell me: “When the hotel was being built, four people were killed by this bear.  The owners of the hotel put a bounty on the bear, and the bear was killed.” “But,” said the bellboy, “only later did they realize the hotel was built on the bear’s den, and it had separated her from her cubs.” With images of a people killing bear stuck in my head, my parents and I boarded a bus bound for the heart of a national park, known for its many grizzly bears (huh, didn’t really think that one through at the time).

The bus was the color of evergreens, rusty, and dented in several places – yet, somewhat appropriate. Once seated on the bus, we were greeted by the driver. He introduced himself as River White (his real name) and then told us a joke: “My sister Brooke, is always babbling.” ha, ha! Our hotel, the Grand Denali Lodge, sat on top of Sugarloaf Mountain. The curvy and treacherous ride down the mountain was over as soon as it had begun. In no time, we were in the park, and immediately saw a mid-sized female moose. Spectacular scenery opened up, and for the next thirty-to-fifty miles, the landscape was a sea of white, dotted with green pines. This turned into rolling hills and valleys, with the same combination of colors, before turning into rugged, majestic, snowcapped mountains speckled with grey rock. At first glance, the mountains seemed quite small, but their size greatly increased upon realizing how far away they were from us. Five moose later, we saw two large herds of caribou crossing a partially frozen river with little difficulty.

River announced a pit-stop, and I was able to depart from the bus, albeit stiffly. I walked out onto a scenic overlook and there, before me, was a frozen river with a backdrop of a lone mountain towering over a green blanket woven out of evergreens.  It wasn’t long before we were off, again, exploring Alaska’s vast tundra. The terrain started to become rockier, and we steeply ascended up the narrow road. At one point, the rocks to our left dropped away leaving a near vertical wall down into the valley far below, and we found ourselves on a sliver of road that clung to the cliff face.  Due to road conditions, road width, and the age of the bus, this leg of the journey was simply horrifying (nearly causing my heart to stop) traveling so close to the road’s edge. A little way down the road, I saw a large group of Dall sheep romping around on steep cliff faces and overhangs. While I was watching the Dall sheep, another, more observant passenger, pointed out a rather large grizzly bear digging up roots. The grizzly was pretty far away, so we continued on. Travelling deeper into the park, we came to a location where the cliff face to the right slowly changed colors from a dull brown to a collage of bright yellows, dark reds, pale beige, and extravagant oranges. Here, River welcomed us to Painted Pass. We stopped half way through Painted Pass to enjoy an amazing view of Mt. McKinley.

We eventually arrived at Toklat River, our ultimate destination. Upon arriving and receiving permission to walk over, and through, the partially frozen river, I took off in a flash. The river was extremely shallow and contained many protruding rocks, blotches of dry land, deep snow cover, and ice. It was difficult, but not impossible, to transverse. I persevered—trudging along, at times sinking in waist-deep snow, praying snowshoes would fall from the sky, and hopping from dry spot to dry spot, until I reached the middle. Once there, I took a few pictures and settled down to relax. It was incredibly tranquil. The only sounds were the serene chirp of the birds and gently running water, the air was cool and fresh, and the sights were simply astounding. There were, in all directions, mountains with sharp stone peaks stabbing at the crystal clear sky, their bases dressed in evergreens, or a coat of deep-blue ice and snow, or both. I enjoyed the solitude and a feeling of freedom. However, I did not want to be left behind, alone forever on the river, and headed back to the bus. 

The ride back from Toklat River was no less spectacular than the ride there. Returning, we came upon a large grizzly bear rolling around on the road while another was digging for roots along the roadside. After what seemed like decades, both bears crisscrossed the road a few times and headed toward our bus. River allowed me to sit in the foot well of the swinging door to take pictures. This put me within three feet of the bears; the only thing separating us was 1/16 inch glass. Ten miles down the road, thinking the excitement had come to an end, we saw a bear chasing a moose! Fortunately, the moose escaped. We eventually arrived back at our hotel with stories to tell and naps to take. I barely had time to charge my camera’s battery before we tackled another adventure.

Denali National Park is a haven for wild life, and an endless expanse of freedom. I appreciated my time there, and cannot wait to go again!