More gray clouds, more rain from Sterling to Wasilla, where we spent the night listening to mosquitoes and rain.

The next day took us through Denali National Park. The mountain ranges appeared and disappeared in clouds and haze.



At one pull-over, we found ourselves in a growing crowd of travelers who had stopped at the recommended view, eager to see and photograph the McKinley/Denali peak. Intrepidly, we climbed a pile of dirt to get a better view. Everyone joined in speculation as to which peak was which, and the sun did shine down on us briefly, but we never were clear about what we were seeing. We left the congenial gathering, tracked in dirt from our climb, and drove on. That inspirational view of Denali never appeared to us.

Later, I began to smell something burning. It was strong. We decided that the haze dulling the beauty of the mountains on both sides of us had to be smoke.

That afternoon, we stopped to stay the night in Nenana, a small town at the juncture of the Tanana and Nenana Rivers. We had lunch at the Rough Wood Inn restaurant. It was late, we were the only customers, and the woman who owned the place seemed happy to talk with us. She showed us a print-out from a website that mapped fires in Alaska. In that one area, there must have been at least fifteen or so burning, some of which were controlled burns. Apparently, not a rare occurance.

Her friend joined our conversation; a woman who lived in the bush. Oh, about a hundred miles away. No one within a hundred miles either. She had to fly in and out. And didn't do that but once or twice a year. She and her husband built and were building their 3-story log house. Had a big garden. Canned. I didn't try to hide my fascination and awe. I asked if they also knew how to handle their medical emergencies. She said if they needed help, they dialed 911 and the air force rescue would come right away. It was good practice for them. They had an antenna and could get 2 tv stations with good reception. Had a generator, passive solar and a windmill.

When we left, it wasn't with a pleasant aftertaste of the hamburger I'd ordered; it was her own lightly smoked salmon, brought to us on a small plate to sample. Some sugar, a little soy sauce, and hours of smoke. Red salmon. Sockeye. The star of the season.