Days 12-13: July 18-19 – Denali Sled Dogs, the Rock Creek Hike, Fairbanks and Homeward

We woke early, to another rainy day, to go pet the sled puppies and see a demo of their sledding prowess. These dogs rock like a Jovi concert. You’ll see the photos and know that I do not tell falsehoods.

After the pups, we headed out on the Rock Creek trail, a three-mile hike with some 20% grades that would end up leading us back to the Visitor Center. My cousin, Phil, and I did this very hike two years ago and it was awesome. I’m fat and old so that 20% grade at the front end of the hike was an arse-kicker. Julia had the choice to do the Rock Creek or the Roadside, which as the title suggests, follows the side of the road. Translation: it’s a weak ass hike meant for three-year olds and elderly folks on the rolly-seat walkers, but not for THIS GUY. She chose wisely, but as it was for me following behind the eternal outdoorsman, Phil, Julia lagged behind and thought she’d soon fall face first into the greens along the path where she would expire and inevitably become moose feed.

I knew from experience that this hike was rough, but I also knew that once you got past it, it was mostly downhill from there. I’d really hate to tackle that path from the other end. I would take my last breath in the first 45 seconds. Poor Julia struggled, just as I had, for the first 15 minutes to the point that after the millionth time I gave her the old, “We’re almost there…” line, she uttered in hatred and disgust, “F**k Dave!” This simple phrase became the official quote of the day and, perhaps, of the trip.

After the hike we had lunch and got back to the Denali Railroad Depot and headed north to Fairbanks for the night. We met some Irish folks on the train who were also staying at our hotel, so I called for the shuttle for the four of us. They sent a single cab for four peoples and eight pieces of luggage. But wait…that’s not all. Once we arrived at the Springhill, the Irish folks were told that their room had been given away because tour buses pulled up and they needed the rooms! We assumed we were also moving to different lodgings, but they had a room for us. None of it made sense, but we got up to our room, dropped our stuff and ran outside to get a taste of the nearby downtown Fairbanks area.

There was only one store open around the hotel and the woman in there was selling Billikens, the beloved impish creature/mascot of Saint Louis University. Including my time as a student and employee at SLU, I was there more than twenty years, so I know the history of the Billiken quite well, or so I thought. This woman told me that she had seen and sold Billikens older than 1908 when Florence Pretz, an artist in Kansas City, created and patented him as the "god of things as they ought to be." She said that it really is a good luck charm for the Eskimos (her words) and that they got it from Russia. I asked her to do a little research on that one and get back to me. Until then, my story stands. So even says the her own Alaska State Museum website HERE. Take that Fairbanks lady with outrageous Billiken claims.

Our shuttle was outside at 6:30 a.m. and took us to the Fairbanks International Airport with all six of its gates. The flight was relatively boring except for the super ridiculously awesome fact that Mt. McKinley/Denali was completely visible from the plan as we passed and I GOT PHOTOS! It was pretty sweet to see it from above along with the glaciers extending from it to the ocean.

And thus we continued our journey to Seattle and a five-hour layover. Ain’t no way I was sitting around until my eyes dried waiting for another flight. This is Seattle…home of the Mariners, the Space Needle and, most importantly, Ebbets Field Flannels, my favorite store on planet earth, her eight siblings and all of their moons. Not only does Ebbets boast an awesome selection of old school minor league jerseys, they also have Paco the dog. What could be better?

So we skedaddled out of the airport, jumped on the Link and headed downtown. We visited Ebbets and maybe a purchase was made. And if such a purchase was made, perhaps it was something like this 1942 New Orleans Pelicans (a former Cardinals farm club) jersey.

I just can’t remember. It all blends together now.

Before we left 408 Occidental, Paco was petted and we both drooled about our current location. Me and Paco, that is. Julia’s gotten much better about her drooling. We then made our way back up Jackson, had $5 awesome Thai food next to Union Station and got back to the airport at 4:22 p.m. with loads of time to spare, hence the penning of this post.

And here I sit waiting to board our flight to Chicago before making the final leg to St. Louis in the morrow where I will probably tell my work friends all about the trip since they probably didn’t check the blog. I’m sure I’ll also do a fair bit of moping that I’m not in Alaska and that I’m melting away like a glacier in the Hades-like heat of my home town. I can’t wait. That is all.

See photos of cool stuff HERE. I hope you like trains…