We woke Monday morning to find storybook houses and touristy shops lining the harbor at
Ketchikan. We watched from our balcony as the Diamond Princess nosed up and
propellers shut off. Though Ketchikan Alaska gets something around
170 inches of rain each year, (similar to living in a fish pond), the sky was
mostly clear and cool. Every inch of ground that wasn’t paved or built on,
seemed to be green!
We dressed in
layers, as we’d been advised to do, and wore our hiking/walking shoes. Jeff
hadn’t planned any paid excursions for that day, but having studied his
guidebook, he called a taxi for us and we rode up the 45 degree angle road to a
trail head. (We girls had to convince him to hike first, shop later. I don't know if we thwarted his strategy to minimize purchases (You don't really want to carry that up a steep, slippery trail, DO YOU?) or whether he just hadn't thought about it.)
The hike was labeled moderate, and that was only because it
was so meticulously maintained. Think
about a 1300 foot rise in a mile. That’s about a 20% grade. They put warning signs on highways when there
are 5% grades!
The path was crisscrossed with brooklets and waterfalls . A
plant called ‘devil’s club’ looks very tropical, but is covered in vicious thorns. It is said to have medicinal properties, but
the berries, though eaten by bears, are toxic to humans. The moss was
mattress-thick with Disney Land style red and white polka dot mushrooms nestled
in secret little nooks.
The first overlook rewarded us with a view of the bay and
the islands beyond. To call it breathtaking would be untrue. Our breath was
long gone from that steep hike! BUT if
we’d had any left, the view would have taken it.
We clawed up another half mile or so with another 700 foot
elevation gain. We crossed an avalanche scree field on an 8 inch wide path. But I suddenly remembered
that nobody gives out blue ribbons for enduring difficulties and so I yielded
to my fellow hikers pleading and turned back. :>)
On board, they’d given us a booklet of on-shore bargain
coupons so we’d be lured into the tourist shops. Just as there are soaring
green mountains enclosing Ketchikan, there are mountains of cheap souvenirs for
collecting green stuff near the dock.
But many of the stores offered free stuff with any purchase and when we
poked around a little, there truly were some bargains. We got a nice ulu knife, (a skinning knife
with a curved blade. . .you never know when you’re going to need one of those)
and some other clever odds and ends.
Ironically, they had nice rain coats embossed with “Ketchikan Alaska”
for $20. They were good quality and an
ideal fall/spring weight. I kept
reminding myself that I had a rain coat and didn’t know anyone that needed one
but I kinda wanted it. I resisted the temptation
and then later in the trip, I left my new black rain coat in a Wasilla restaurant. The coats like that in other tourist traps
cost at least double and mostly quadruple.
Thomas was jealous of the wool socks I bought. I got some
free jewelry that I really like and will either give as a gift or wear myself.
The fun thing was that they were all cheerful about giving the free stuff, and
it wasn’t embarrassing to collect it. Tricia is resolute about her souvenir budget and helps me to consider the who, what, and why of vacation shopping.
The ship was set to leave at 1:00pm, so we made it back to
the ship by about noon. We didn’t want
to miss the midday feeding frenzy on board, or have to pay for something in
town. But I had stashed my ulu (or is it
Oloo?) knife in Tricia’s backpack and we had to go through ship security
every time we got on board. The backpack
set off the alarms and the fellow asked Tricia if she had a knife in her
backpack.
‘Uh, I don’t think so,” she answered. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do!” he said. “You have an Alaskan Ulu knife in
there.” Happily, they didn’t throw her
overboard as a terrorist and merely told her to stow it immediately in her
luggage and not to have it out while on board.
I admit it was a dirty trick to put it in her backpack but it was
innocently done!
We were a little earlier than other on shore travelers and
got a nice window seat in the dining room.
Something of a common fear drew many passengers to watch the docks for
late comers. People came running from
the dark reaches of Creek street, (the red light district in earlier years),
their arms loaded with embroidered sweatshirts and Hematite jewelry. One set
pulled up in a minivan, right to the bottom of the gangway, a full 15 minutes
after the “all aboard”. They left the van and all ran into the ship. That got
the folks in the dining room chatting to be sure. But after another 10 minutes, the driver
returned to the van and she didn’t seem especially stressed. I guess she was a tour guide and not a
passenger.
That night we went to a comedian’s show. He had given a short presentation in the
welcome aboard show and he was very entertaining.
I’ll write about Juneau tomorrow. We had the most DARLING tour guide, I could
write volumes. I think it’s safe to say
that I LOVE that tour guide and always will. In fact, we invited him to come
for Christmas with his adorable wife. We
even have his phone number on speed dial on our cell phones! But I’ll save that story for tomorrow.