Catch The Next Cessna To A Lodge Deep In Alaska’s Wilderness
“Come on, lady, let’s go!” I look at the sky. A layer of clouds thick as parachute silk canopies the land. Somewhere behind this veil is Mount McKinley, the highest mountain in North America, and all the other peaks that make up the Central Alaska Range. Yet this pilot wants my husband and me to get into his pint-sized plane a Cessna 206 that’s smaller than the toy airplane my children play on in the neighborhood park and soar with him through the narrow passes.
No visibility. No radar. Just (pardon the pun) blind luck.
“Trust me, ma’am. There’s no better way to see Alaska, and no other way to get to Denali Wilderness Lodge. Unless…” - he pauses - “you’d prefer a two-day horseback ride.”
I climb in.
Minutes later we’re in the air. The rumble of tour buses, which clog the streets of Denali Park Headquarters, gives way to the roar of the plane engine, and I sit huddled in my seat, praying that the pilot can find his way through the mountainous maze.
Suddenly the clouds lift. “There it is, lady. Alaska!”
There it is, indeed. From our vantage point at 6,000 feet, words like “vast” and “pristine” take on new meaning. For the next half hour I don’t see a single house, a single car, a single road. There’s nothing but glorious wilderness filled with mountains and trees and rivers and glaciers.
And, oh yes, animals.
“Look down there.” The pilot points to a speck of white. “Dall sheep,” he yells over the steady hum of the motor. “And over there, a bear.” I press my nose to the window. Sure enough.
By the time we land on a gravelly strip, I’ve seen three sheep, four moose and one bear. “A bonanza,” says the pilot. We crawl out of the plane and look back to see where we’ve been. A rainbow arches over the narrow space between two mountains.
“So here we are,” murmurs my husband. “Somewhere over the rainbow.”
We walk into the main lodge, and the rainbow is replaced by a scene straight from Ernest Hemingway. There’s a rhino head on one wall surrounded by other, more local, trophies: bear skin, moose and deer antlers, sheep heads…. I start to count the heads and skins, but give up after reaching 27. I’d rather try out one of the overstuffed leather chairs and listen to the Andre Segovia music that’s playing softly in the background.
A few minutes later, Terry Hartz, the lodge’s summer manager and winter caretaker, welcomes us and ushers us into the big family-style kitchen. “Help yourself,” he says, pointing to jars filled with chocolate chip and oatmeal-raisin cookies, platters laden with biscotti and lemon bars and bowls filled with apples and nuts. “There’s always juice in the box, coffee, tea and hot chocolate on the stove.”
Mmmmm, I like this. I suspect Hemingway didn’t munch biscotti, but 100 percent authenticity isn’t my goal. After all, the only shooting I’m going to do will be with my camera. This former hunting lodge is now an eco-naturalist camp.
We later learn that Denali Wilderness Lodge started back in 1907 as a hunting camp to provide meat for early gold miners. Later it became the home base of master guide and bush pilot Lynn Castle, a legendary character who reveled in the hunt.
He’s responsible for most of the trophies in the big-game room, although some (like the rhino) were probably the result of trades with hunting buddies who’d returned from African safaris.
Today the camp consists of 28 log buildings, all hand-crafted from local spruce. Most guests sleep in small duplex cabins that are simply furnished but have private baths.
Some stay in the six-bedroom Cheechako Gold Rush Hotel, which was originally built for the wives of hunters. Now it resembles a turn-of-the-century bordello, complete with Victorian furnishings and a crankstyle phonograph.
But we don’t spend much time in our room. There’s too much to do. Although the resort technically occupies only 22 acres, it’s surrounded by 2,000 square miles of wilderness - all criss-crossed with trails for hiking and riding.
The lodge offers a variety of guided activities or, says Hartz, “you can explore on your own.” He assures us that we’re not likely to run into a grizzly - “They don’t come around the camp much” - but tells us how to behave if we do.
Prudently, we decide to stay with the group. We choose a morning hike and an evening horseback ride. The sky is cloudless and the weather crisp, not cold, so we pass up the parkas, boots, mittens and wool socks that the lodge makes available for guests.
Kat, one of the seven naturalists on staff, leads us up a steep path to a blueberry patch and, as we munch straight-from-the-vine delicacies, explains some of the ecological and environmental intricacies of south-central Alaska.
We’re ravenous when we return. But not to worry. Denali Wilderness Lodge is well-known for its meals. We have roast prime rib of beef along with salad, cauliflower, Dijon potatoes and strawberry shortcake. Every morsel had to be flown in, except for the fresh herbs grown in the greenhouse. Even the fuel that runs the kitchen - propane for the stove and diesel for the refrigerator - was delivered by air.
“It’s rather exotic, don’t you think?” asks an enthusiastic dinner guest who just flew in from Anchorage, more that 200 air-miles to the south. “In New York we take cabs.”
MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: If you go Denali Wilderness Lodge is open from May 25 until September 13. Overnight stays start at $235 per person per night with a two-night minimum. Fly-in day tours begin at $180 for breakfast or lunch and go up to $325 for a full day including horseback riding. As the lodge is only accessible by air, all prices include Alaskan bush plane flightseeing to and from Denali Park headquarters. A flexible flight schedule accommodates passengers from Alaska Sightseeing and other major cruise lines as well as guests with individual itineraries. Year-round reservations: 1-800-541-9779.