Up the Wild Stikine

S T O R Y R O D

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Buckle up and hold on.

Take the .303 and a cut lunch.

Beyond the Inside Passage lies the real Alaska

Honda ADVE NTU R E: ALAS K A

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then it gets hairy. Huge sprays of white water engulf the sharp rocks protruding dangerously from the river bed

Where: Wrangell, Alaska Local Sights and Attractions: Stikine River, Shakes Glacier, Telegraph Creek, LeConte Glacier, ancient petroglyphs and AnAn Wildlife Observatory Activities: Hiking, fishing, sightseeing, golfing, bicycling, Accommodation: Stikine Inn, Zimovia BnB, GrandView Bnb, Rooney’s Roost BnB, Fennimore’s BnB, Thunderbird Hotel How to Get There: Alaska Airlines flies daily to Wrangell from Seattle (AS65) or Juneau (AS64).

The Alaska Marine Highway ferry system visits Wrangell four times a week in summer.

Contact for all activities: Australians can arrange travel to Wrangell with local Alaska specialist, Spectrum Holidays, 511 Whitehorse Road, Mitcham VIC 3132.

Wrangell

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he two mighty V8 engines erupt in an angry growl. The little jet boat spins wildly in the rough white water. Passengers scream and hang on for dear life as jagged cliffs and enormous boulders whiz past metres away. We lurch to a violent halt, prompting a deluge over the stern that inundates those clinging to the rails.

“How’s that?!” calls Jim from the shelter of the tiny wheelhouse.

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“Fantastic!” yell his saturated clients, still shaking the chilly mountain water from their hair.

Skipper, Jim Leslie is no show-off, but after some gentle coaxing he will execute a hair-raising ‘360’ for the sheer thrill of it.

Husband and wife team Wilma and Jim operate Alaska Waters, a tour company in the little town of Wrangell, Alaska, tucked delicately into a sheltered bay on the island of the same name. For many, the fishing hamlet is a whistle-stop on an Inside Passage cruise, but we’re here for a longer look at the charms of small-town Alaska.

Apart from the modest fishing fleet, a small squadron of jet boats operate from the village, ferrying tourists and sightseers in various directions to the acclaimed Anan Wildlife and Bear Sanctuary, salmon spawning grounds, nearby hunting and fishing lodges and any of the several mighty glaciers spilling great chunks of ancient ice into the pristine rivers.

Wilma and Jim’s signature adventure tour is a two-night, white water wilderness expedition up the magnificent Stikine River into the largely uninhabited forests of British Columbia. Jim pilots the Chutine Warrior upstream for six hours through

wide, shallow flats bordered by sheer majestic peaks and dense wooded fringes.

About halfway, we pull into a small island, Devil’s Elbow, a handy refuge for a BBQ lunch.

Safely ashore, he can put down his heavy weapon, our last line of defence against inquisitive grizzlies or black bears, and cook the sausages. Giant paw prints decorate the narrow silt beach, interspersed with impressions from moose, bear and even a wolf.

Onward through valleys and ravines en route to our objective of tiny Telegraph Creek, we overnight at the Glenora Guest Ranch, owned by pioneering frontierswoman Nancy Ball, a petite and sprightly 70-something. You won’t find her rudimentary cabins in any Michelin Guide: they are basic, tasteful, comfy and extremely authentic. But clearly the economic and physical strain of remote living is finally catching up with this remarkable woman.

Jim, Wilma and the rest of the crew are waiting for me on the other side of the river as Nancy ferries us across the angry stream. We all bid her a fond farewell and pile into the pick-up for the short trip back into Telegraph Creek - a small store, gas station and a few houses. The town’s main population was relocated recently to new

government-built housing, leaving the small wooden village to crumble. It feels eerily like a Western movie set.

The tiny, brightly painted inn and general store, Stikine River Song, almost on the water’s edge, is the centre of the town’s modest tourist industry and a beacon of civilisation amid the remains of the old town. Dan Pakula operates the establishment during the summer months, offering meals, accommodation and excursions to the trickle of visitors who come for the sightseeing, fishing, hunting and hiking. The immediate attraction is the local “grand canyon”, the wild, raging headwaters of the Stikine that begin here amongst the sheer, vertical cliffs and gullies and eventually join the shipping lanes near Wrangell, many miles downstream.

Next comes Jim’s tour de force. He and his twin-engined, 600bhp jet boat, are the only combo able to navigate the ill-tempered torrent this far upstream. The first sections are relatively easy.

Carefully riding the throttles, Jim flicks the craft back and forth, wriggling the stern through narrow passages between boulders the size of caravans.

Then it gets hairy. Huge sprays of white water

engulf the sharp rocks protruding dangerously from the river bed, the roar of the water drowning out the sixteen cylinders as Jim hurls us all up the ramp of water. For perhaps an hour we meet this challenge head on before Jim pulls up on a sand bank so we can “relieve the tension”; then it’s all aboard for the return trip.

After lunch, we’re down by the lake chatting to Simon, the local bush pilot who runs flight-seeing trips in his Cessna floatplane up along the same stretch of river and out over the high plateau. We’re soon looking down on what seems like a scale model of the impressive canyon we were battling within only hours ago.

Back in Wrangell the huge Norwegian Sun is in port, disgorging its cargo of 2000 sandal-clad, rubber-necked tourists onto the wharf. The more enterprising community members are out in force spruiking and displaying their wares, most notably Don the fisherman, tirelessly hoisting an enormous halibut up to his chin for photographs.

The town is split on the value of the big liners’ visits. Wilma’s company and many other local traders rely heavily on the massed traffic injecting valuable dollars into Wrangell’s otherwise modest

economy, but many big ships bypass the town in favour of nearby Petersburg. “Some folk find it hard to realise that the days of logging, mining and major commercial fishing are over,” laments Wilma.

“The town would shrivel up without tourism.”

A compact, superbly detailed natural and cultural history museum complements the gift, souvenir and craft shops and other downtown attractions, yet Wrangell remains an authentic microcosm of small town Alaska. Quirky, quaint, rough-around-the-edges maybe, but with an infinitely wholesome down-to-earth appeal a quiet village surrounded by some of the most magnificent scenery imaginable. n honda.com.au

GULF OF ALASKA

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