AK49 - it'll blow you away!

Spectacular. Magnificent. Fabulous. Stunning. Breathtaking. The words stand out like the mountains of Alaska. In 1867, the Russians and Americans agreed that this northern territory was worth $7.2 million. If you ever want evidence of gross underestimation, this is it. What price can one put on an environment so fresh, pristine, raw and unabashed?


View from the aircraft travelling south-east from Anchorage to Juneau.

As Phileas drove through and past the snowy mountain ranges, there was something remarkably captivating about them. Given a good day, with snow clouds come and gone, and the sun gleaming in a bright blue sky, Phileas found an almost perfect serenity alone in a pure wilderness; crisp colours, crisp air and crisp sounds. Alaska is the enigmatic type that gently woos in the most rugged of manners. Alaska is a great flirt, that elevates your feelings and yet ultimately leaves you, quite literally, out in the cold. Snow-brushed fir trees and lingering hills create the romance but the relationship begins with the first tempting encounter of frozen creeks, rivers and lakes which afford an exciting dalliance into that which is usually off-limits. Valleys tease the visitor with fields that call the innocent to explore their virginal snow, only to laugh in mockery as snow drifts and silent hollows hinder the unprepared's progress.


Funky icicles hang from our lodge near Hatcher's Pass.


A tidal glacier, the type to calve into the sea, pictured from the same plane to Juneau.

Yet Alaska, with its wealth of natural beauty, is as much favoured by what it hasn't got than what it has; raised aloft by what it has retained rather than what it has become. Largely isolated from 'civilised' development Alaska remains "The last frontier". The fact that roads are limited, communities seasonally cut-off or closed, running water can still be a luxury and the men occasionally fulfill the stereotype of a weatherd breed all add to the fascination which is unlikely to be found in the Lower 48.


Not quite the omnipresent sea/ski plane but RAP will appreciate the picture!

Perhaps blessed with unseasonal snowfall, what made April in Alaska particularly memorable for Phileas was being the only tourist in the village. Never before has Phileas had quite so much space to himself; whole dorm rooms, B&Bs, sledging fields, abandoned towns, highways, seemingly the whole state cleared for our arrival. Cruise ship mayhem begins mid-May. All shops and attractions miraculously open but hopefully quick business will not drain the friendly shop assistants we encountered of their welcoming conversation. Despite the abrupt environmental conditions, or perhaps because of them, Alaska seems to produce quality people. Ready to serve, help and be your friend, Phileas received a great warmth in a cold place.


Great people of Alaska: Al and Janie who put us up, Jim who shared our plane journey and Phil who shared our hostel in Anchorage.

Phileas has experienced some wonders of Alaska; but not all. Afterall, as Phileas was informed before and during arrival, April is very much the wrong time to visit Alaska. No bears, no salmon, few Northern Lights, no lush greens or rivers wild. With so much passion already aroused, there is much compulsion to return and view a different side to Alaska's personality.


Our transport for three and a half days from Juneau, Alaska, down the Inside Passage to Bellingham, Washinton.



Some people were keen to make full use of the open air. We had neither the tent nor the necessary copious amounts of duck tape!



We were happy with our recliners, outstanding legroom, hot water on tap and all important floor space. After two nights with high school children for company on their way to a music festival, we were left with the boat practically to ourselves. Time to gaze at passing mountains and passing porpoises.