Day 10: July 16 – Denali to Kantishna

So this post is a couple of days late. Sue me. Your case will be tossed out.

We took the 7:45 a.m. Denali shuttle to Kantishna along the park road – all 92.6 miles of it. This means that we parked our buttocks on a green school bus driven by Young Santa or Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart (aka Thomas) for a round trip that took twelve hours, four hours of which were spent in the a nice driving, chilly, Alaska rain. Compared to the 66-mile road to the Eielson Visitor Center bus I took two years ago, this one sucked and here’s why.

Technically, the shuttle bus is just that, a shuttle bus. It’s similar to taking the city bus from Point A to Point B, but with a bit more interaction with the driver. But it is not the driver’s job to stop to point out a moose doing the lambada with a caribou at 10 o’clock or ground squirrel sling shotting a pine cone at the forehead of a grizzly David and Goliath style. That would be a nice benefit, but you’re paying to drive 92.6 miles and back, not to be entertained by Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Rogers doing the moonwalk. I get that.

HOWEVER…

As mentioned previously, in June 2009, my cousin, Phil, and I boarded the Eielson shuttle driven by one John Allen – naturalist, poet, artist, bus driver and all around awesome guy with an out-of-control Rollie Fingers mustache. For you non-baseball fans, Google it and be ashamed of yourselves. VERY ashamed. Denali is awesome, but Mr. Allen added depth, humor, knowledge and memories to an already amazing Alaskan journey. In a nutshell, I was spoiled by that experience, like an only child on Christmas.

That being said, Young Santa was at a disadvantaged from the get go and he hadn’t even pulled up to our stop at the Wilderness Access Center. Add to that the nasty, rainy, chilly weather, and poor Thomas the Train was toast from the outset in the court of Dave opinion. While John Allen he was not, he could have dropped the monotone voice and not said, “I’m not even going to be looking for wildlife.” Thanks Thomas. Good morning to you too. I’m so pleased I have the privilege of spending another 11 hours and 59 minutes in your engaging company. Did you remember to lock your trash can when you left Sesame Street this morning, you jack wagon? And what was with the lead foot through the park? Did you have a hot date with Louise the Lumberjackette that you had to make before she toddled back into the forest for a night of logging? Jeez, dude.

Actually, in his defense, which I hate that I’m saying, while it felt like he was doing 45 on the park road, when I sneaked a look at the speedometer, the most I saw it register was 20 mph. But I bet Young Santa rigged it for the sake of appearance. He seemed shady. And what do you do with a beard to your naval when you aren’t playing the role of Gandolf and the market for a young Santa is slim? It can’t be for the sake of fashion or the overall hotness quotient (OHQ).

I know that John Allen retired, but accept the responsibility of following in his bus tracks and attempt a shred of his awesomeness. For a native Alaskan, you tarnished my soul and made Julia’s experience almost piss poor and for that, I hate your beard and the face to which it is connected. And, Mr. Young Santa/Jim “The Anvil” sir, if you ever stumble upon this post, please don’t hack me up with your ulu knife in my sleep. These are only words. Sticks and stones, Anvil, sticks and stones.

That heavy criticism being lobbed, he was knowledgeable and would speak when spoken to, but it wouldn’t have taken much for him to be A LOT better. The other issue, out of Santa’s control, was Mother Nature and the lack of wildlife sightings or, I should say, up close and personal wildlife sightings like those of June 2009. John Allen must have channeled St. Francis the 4,993 from his final resting place in Assisi because animals sprinted out of the tundra frantically waving, shouting John’s name and holding up signs crudely written in their own feces (they don’t have Sharpies) reading, “Hey John…Look at me!” Needless to say, such an experience is not guaranteed nor is it a usual occurrence, but that was my experience and, as I said, I was spoiled by John Allen.

Once the trip concluded, we waited for our ride back to the Crow’s Nest for dinner at The Overlook. I checked my messages to find out that our white water rafting trip for Sunday at noon had to be cancelled because we were the only two registered. So we were now on the 8 a.m. trip. Bye bye sleep! And, thus, the reason Day 10 is a day late. Too bad…so sad…tell your mom…tell your dad. Yes…I am eight. Deal with it.

And while you’re deal with that, check out the Denali National Park (and other) photos HERE.