I took the veil while in Alaska.

 Heading up the drive to my hosts' house, which they built themselves. Or are building. 

A nice, two-story house heated in the winter by one wood stove.

 A small section of the land which was being cleared of spruce and poplar. 

My task was to stack the logs into piles for later removal, and make piles of the branches. 

That was no problem. 

The problem was the huge mosquitoes that kept me company.

 I would go out swathed from neck to toe in insect repellant clothing, 

and they would hover around me in a cloud.

 I obtained a No See Ums veil--

yep, that's where the title of this post comes from :-)

--and they still managed to bite me. 

The happy individuals were the dragonflies who were large, fat, 

and delighted with all the fast food that took no preparation. 

One even landed on me to eat his prey, 

which I thought was restorative justice so I could get my blood back.

In a manner of speaking, at no cost to the dragonfly. 
I read a Fairbanks letters to the editor where people were asked,
what works to repel mosquitoes?
The best answer--"A 50 MPH wind."

 

 A secret about logs--poplar is much lighter than spruce, so much easier to manage.

The inn where we had supper one night.

A house mural in the vast metropolis of Nenana.

A very common sight;  RV's are everywhere in this area. 

You see them spending the night on pull-offs.

My hostess found a Husky Homestead tour for me over the phone, 

so I booked it (at a reduced rate)
 and drove up to Denali, two hours away, the next morning. 

I did some touristy shopping, and checked out available bus rides into Denali Park. 

The only one left was a six-and-a-half-hour one at 5:00, so I booked that. 

Then I returned to "Glitter Gulch", did more looking around at the shops, 

and went looking for the chateau where we were to board the bus. 

An ESL clerk (of which there are many) kindly pointed me in the right direction, 

and I pulled up in time to be the last boarder on the bus.

"Husky Homestead, where dogs are king."

Four time Iditarod winner Jeff King told us that the term "husky" in Alaska refers 

not to a specific breed, but to the job huskies have as sled dogs. 

These didn't look like one might expect, but are prize-winning sled dogs. 

So there are Norwegian elkhounds, Siberian huskies, Alaskan malamutes, etc., 

all under the category of huskies.

I kept thinking, 

'What if we as Christians, were so motivated, so passionate,

about pleasing the Lord in our lives?'

If you look closely, you can see Jeff being pulled on his four-wheeler (?)
 by his dog team 

on a short practice run.

 When the dogs realized he was getting ready to go out, 

the air was filled with a cacophony of "Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!" from excited huskies.

For the Iditarod, all dogs must be checked by vets, but nobody checks the mushers,
we were told.

One of the dogs happily bonding with his master, dignity forgotten.

On the treadmill, in lieu of jogging in place.

All who wanted could hold a puppy. 
Five or six litters had been born in the last two weeks. 
My puppy took one look at  my face and refused to open his eyes for the rest of his time. 
We were supposed to be socializing the puppies, but I instead traumatized mine.
I could have bought an official, small photo of me with the pup, 
but at $15, I decided they wanted it more than I did.
I also could have gotten Jeff King's book for $25. 
Instead I found it online for less than $2 plus S & H.

Modeling the snowsuit of a musher.

Puppies need exercise, too, just like hamsters.

After being chauffeured back to the chalet, I grabbed a Subway (my lunch and supper) and headed over to Denali Welcome Center, where I parked and ate the sandwich, 

killing mosquitoes as they attacked me. 

When I went inside to change into a fresh outfit, a tiny, elderly, Russian lady 

wearing a lovely pink dress with a matching headcovering, 

needed help in enticing water out of the restroom faucet. 

Then she asked me how to get water from the water fountain. 

There were only a handful of people in line for the bus, 

so when we boarded, we had plenty of room to move around and take photos. 

The two young guys in front of me had expensive cameras and a tripod.

A currently dry stream beside the highway. 

The area had been plagued with floods before my arrival, 

but was experiencing dry weather and 100 wildfires statewide.
Still, we saw snow a number of times in Denali Park.

At the first pit stop, where we alighted and headed for the restrooms/outhouses.

A mosquito who jousted with me and lost! 

By the tour's end, my window was adorned with the remains of seven unlucky bloodseekers. 

If you look at the oval, you can see a brown bear (grizzly?) who has just crossed the stream. 

His wife is still in the stream, partially obscured by branches. 

Don't ask how I knew it was his wife (insider info).

A picture I took while looking the other way. See how close we are to the edge?? 

That's a looong way down if the driver got distracted! 

Why, if I hadn't been leaning the other way most of the time on the high passes, 

we might have gone over. :-D  

And buses coming around the switchbacks didn't help my presence of mind, either. 

But what was worst was when someone would call out for a closer look,

 and the driver would back up on the curve. 

I finally closed my eyes and began to catch up on my prayer life. 

Unfortunately, one of the guys in front of me caught me at it, 

not realizing that I was being spiritual. 
No, I grinned sheepishly and admitted to being a wuss.
 But after all, what are a few moments of terror out of six and a half hours of pleasure?

I don't mind heights as long as I am in control of my speed.

 

At the next stop there were nice photo ops. 

The drop-off behind me is just a few yards away.

Clearer in this pic.

An unafraid bird who allowed me to snap his picture.

Toklat River, the turnaround point. 

I didn't spot any Dall sheep for sure, but did identify one of their trails down to the river.

Wearing caribou antlers and my trusty travel vest. 

It was a good thing I'd worn the vest and brought my jacket. 

On the return journey, the two photographers (who, by the way, wanted me to take their picture) opened three or four windows, then apparently couldn't get them closed again. 

It was COLD.  

I pulled up my hood and wrapped my neck pillow around it, and was still freezing. 

You'll be thankful to know that I did eventually thaw out, however.

A welcome sign at the deserted rest stop. Happily there were rest rooms open, however. :-) 

The one bus that usually came after ours showed up and left, making us the last leaf on the tree. But at least that precluded meeting any traffic on the way back.

Endless beautiful mountains....
A caribou is in dead center.

"As a matter of fact, yes, we DO own the road." 

Caribou on their way home from work. Or whatever.

A funnier pic of the same pair.
This was probably at 11:15 pm. (They must work long hours.)

We returned back to the welcome center five minutes early, 

and the ten of us disembarked and headed for our cars. 

My borrowed car wasn't where I remembered, and I tried not to panic. 

Good thing my hostess didn't call me at that point, because someone had called her and told her that she had seen their (semi-unique Caprice Classic) in Valdez (I think it was). 

Fortunately, I had merely misplaced the parking lot, it being one of several.

so by 1:35 am, I was "home".  I saw a moose by the side of the road though, 

so stopped to take his picture. 

I rolled down the window and asked him to smile, but he said his wife was right close by,

so he didn't dare give me a smile.
She didn't comment. *grins*

A local moose who has been hanging around one of the shops in town 

to boost the visitor numbers.

(Taken by my host. Thanks, host.)

Taken by host's wife, I think. Thanks, host's wife. You know who you are. :-) 

There were high viewing decks, 

where people waved to us, also from the open perches.

 Moose antler arch beside Morris Thompson Cultural Center in Fairbanks.

 A hunter's tent exhibit.

 Scenes in Alaska.

 Man against polar bear.
"That's MY fish."
"No, MINE."

 Snowmobile ride, anyone?

 Athabascan clothing,  presumably.

 Alaskan collage.

 Cultural Center flower garden.

Flags line the highway as I head for the airport.  

In honor of my visit, I presume? :-) 

My return flights were long, 

but shorter in time than my trip up, and no delays, cancellations, or lost luggage (like the trip up), thank the Lord.
I'll miss the family, church folks, family devotions, the mountains,
but not the mosquitoes.

Finally back in Columbia.

It was a great visit (thank you, hosts!!!), even though I returned home exhausted.

It was wonderful to see Paul and Vicki at home.