Sunday, May 27

Princess Cruises wasted little time getting us started on our first activity. At 8:15 am, we boarded the sternwheeler Discovery for a narrated cruise along the Chena and Tanana rivers.

I was totally impressed with the design and execution of this narrated riverboat cruise. Rather than just rely on the beauty of the river and surrounding scenery, the narrator and staff immersed us in Alaskan history and culture.

First up, a discussion on Alaskan bush pilots. For nearly a century, these legends of Alaskan aviation have been traversing the mostly roadless Alaskan wilderness in often brutal weather conditions and rough terrain. They allow remote, off the grid families and villages to occasionally tap into towns to resupply, get healthcare, and access other services.

In the middle of this discussion, a real life bush pilot flew in and landed next to our riverboat! How cool is that? Our narrator interviewed him over the loudspeaker, providing even more insight into his training and operating environment. Then he took off from the water and soared into the clouds.

Next up, we arrived at the training site for the late Susan Butcher’s famous Iditarod sled dog team. After an accomplished dog mushing career, including a remarkable 4 Iditarod wins in 5 years, she sadly died from leukemia.

Fortunately, Trail Breaker Kennels, where she lived and trained dogs with her husband, remains in operation today…right along the banks of the Chena River. For us, that meant a live sled dog demonstration (which are always more impressive than ones using deceased dogs). Musher Laura Allaway explained the training process, took a team of dogs for a ride, and answered questions.

Three key takeaways…

1. The puppy sled dogs eventually become confident at overcoming big obstacles in adulthood because they are introduced to increasingly challenging obstacles. The puppies on the banks before us were being encouraged to crawl over a small, manageable log…one of the first steps in their training. (One puppy, who “knew better,” just walked around the log. He was placed on the management career track.)

2. The dogs’ attitude, demeanor, resiliency, and toughness…and even the composition of their body fur, is a product of their training and living environment. It got me thinking, as I sat in a comfortable chair, behind protective glass, in a climate-controlled room…might we be a little mentally tougher, resilient human beings if we allowed ourselves to exist for a while in less than optimum settings? Hmmm.

3. The 3rd and best takeaway relates to why dogs are chained to individual dog houses at the end of day. For more on that, and my other lessons from sled dogs, check out my next book…Faith in the Margins…a 365-day devotional book.

Our next stop on the riverboat cruise was a tour of an authentic Athabaskan village. We learned how salmon are caught with a fish wheel, cleaned, smoked, and preserved. Other presentations covered animal furs, native dress, housing, and other cultural aspects of Alaska’s original inhabitants.

After re-boarding the boat, I made two food decisions: one good and one terrible.

First, the good. I ordered the hearty, delicious reindeer dog and reindeer chili. Once you get beyond the notion of eating Rudolph and jeopardizing Christmas for millions of children, it’s a satisfying meal.

Next, the narrator announced that free samples of salmon dip would be available in the stern of the ship. Without hesitation, I raised the aft portion of my body off my seat, rotated starboard, and headed for the stern. Why? I don’t know. You see, I’ve hated salmon since I was a kid. I knew that. And yet, there’s something powerful in the words “free sample.” An absurd logic train enters my mind…eat enough free samples in life, and you’ll save enough money to put your kids through college. Even though my kids have finished college, I had to get my free sample.

At the sample station, I picked up a cracker…by that, I mean a thin, crispy wafer and not the colloquial term for white people. I scooped up a generous glob of salmon dip with said cracker, because…larger the free sample, quicker my kids get through college.

As I placed the entire sample on the back of my disproportionately large tongue, I immediately knew something was wrong. This was the second most disgusting thing I’d put in my mouth in the past decade…the first being the Gravy Train beef jerky I inadvertently ate during a walk on the Appalachian Trail.

The sweet lady behind the counter (aka, “the cracka servin’ cracka”) asked, “Isn’t it delicious?” With the fishy manure wad still resting on the back of my tongue, I barely opened my mouth and uttered, “Fabulous.” Lying on the Lord’s Day…shameful.

I was in a serious dilemma. I was also in Alaska, with salmon—a cultural icon, stuck in my mouth. I had just immersed myself in Athabaskan, salmon-loving culture, for goodness sake. Still, I wasn’t about to put the “free sample” in my belly, even if that would delay my sons’ education.

In true Mr. Bean mode, I quietly made my way to the side exit door, found a secluded spot by the rail and looked around. No one was in sight…good. I curled my tongue around the fishy ball of drywall repair, and launched it about 30 feet across the water, almost reaching the starboard bank. I must assume the clump will be eaten by alevin (look it up), thus completing what naturalist Sir Elton John called the Circle of Life.

Still suffering from fish mouth, I boarded the bus with my traveling companions and we headed toward the Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge. Highlight of that bus ride, for me, was driving by the place where Christopher McCandless went to live off the grid, as documented in the book and movie Into the Wild.

All in all, a wonderful first full day in Alaska, save for the free sample of salmon mush.