Sat 10th May 2003, Talkeetna

Last night at 8 o’clock and 10 o’clock I heard noises from the railroad that runs just nearby.  There would be a long sound on the horn followed by a leisurely clackety clack that went on and on and on and on, then  the horn sounded again in the distance while still the clackety clack still went on.  It wasn’t disturbing, in fact the rhythm was rather soothing and if any more went past during the night I was too sound asleep to notice.  I took a coffee out onto the front porch first thing to write some cards.  Each cabin is set off the ground and has a covered porch, which is fortunate since it has been raining since I got here, with a table and chairs.  There's a wonderfully sweet smell to the air that I first noticed at one of the coffee stops yesterday and it’s even more pronounced this morning.  No one seems to know what it is, I guess they are used to it.  Perhaps it’s linked to the trees coming out.  Occasionally it is mixed with wood smoke.  It's a cross between cedar wood and honeysuckle.

I sat quietly for a while, writing, smelling the air and listening to the rain pattering all around and dripping through the trees.  There was almost no breeze and it was lovely and peaceful, I felt very calm and contented.  A lady with a little girl came out of the cabin across the way and greeted me as they passed.  The lady who owns the place was cleaning the cabin next door.  We both leaned on the porch fencing for a good natter and swapping of histories.  She grew up in Kansas and moved to California, which she says was a very lonely place for a single  - very superficial, concerned only with looks and appearance.  She met her husband on a return trip to Kansas and they moved up here.

I’m not cooking in the cabin; I’ve not come all the way to Alaska to spend time entirely by myself indoors, so eventually I went looking for a late breakfast and spied out the Talkeetna Roadhouse and bakery.  A traditional place, like our inns used to be, going back to the days of the mushers.  Good basic food and accommodation at affordable prices.  My glasses were covered in rain as I looked around for a free table; not finding one I sat on a stool at the window bar.  Cooking is done at the back, fronted by a counter with goods from the bakery, then a long table with 8-10 chairs then 4 stools lined up at a deep ledge under the window.  Sauces and condiments were dotted here and there on the surfaces.  There was further seating through a door on the far side.  Now I’m in I can see a sign ‘family seating’, this apparently means you plop yourself down wherever there’s a spare place. 

There were a number of people in climbing gear, stoking up for a day in the mountains; or perhaps fishing in the rivers.  One man was on a computer while two backwoodsmen chat ted next to him.  Very much a mixed group.  Three gents of varying ages were having an animated conversation next to me.  Seems none of them had met before but just as they left one of them asked me to take their photo, promising to send a copy to the others.  It was that sort of place.  

I made the mistake of ordering the full plate standard breakfast to act as brunch.  Masses of scrambled egg and pan fries, four thick, long streaky bacon rashers, fruit juice and coffee refills, plus a large slab of toasted homemade bread that I regretfully declined, all for $9-50.

I waddled out later and had another poke around the town (two main streets of a couple hundred yards or so and a few minor residential minor roads = downtown Talkeetna).  Found the local historians museum that I'd been recommended to by Karin in Healy, set in the old school house.  It was filled with a photographic history of the place and people, plus loads of artefacts and personal belongings from the past.  All overseen by a hippy-like character who would only take the admission fee, the postcard was on him!  He and his wife originally moved up from the lower 48th to settle a bit south of here.  The real estate lady was rather stuck-up and told them they would find people 'more like their kind i.e. aging hippies’, in Talkeetna.  They came and never left, living ‘in the bush’ about 20 miles out of town.  I spent a very enjoyable and interesting time nosing around.  Mad Dog (Michael when on official museum business on the phone) invited me to come back for company and to keep dry if I got bored later.

Back to the cabin to sit on the porch and just relax, writing and chatting until I got itchy feet again.  This time I called in at the general store.   Nagley's Store, originally built closer to the river in the 1920's, was later moved, whole and on rollers to its present site.  It took a month and remained open for business the whole time.  As you step up to the wooden walk way out front, and through the door, you step through a time warp.  The counter extends down the right wall, backed by wooden shelves from floor to ceiling.  Wooden floor to ceiling shelves all along the opposite wall as well, all filled with a myriad of items, some as they are, others in hand labelled jars.  In between are narrow aisles between further wooden shelving.  The Waltons comes to mind although Talkeetna is believed to be the place Northern Exposure was based on (actually shot in Oregon).  Apparently most of the characters are readily identifiable in Talkeetna, with the exception of the ex-astronaut.  

Walking further along the street my eye was caught by an article pinned outside a building about walks around Talkeetna.  I brushed the door as I bent down and it rattled ever so slightly.  Next moment the door opened and an enthusiastic gent was informing me the paper had only just moved into its downtown offices, the papers are free, the current one has the walks in it, and here, take a back copy as well.  So off I trundled with 2 copies of the local paper stuffed inside my coat to keep them dry.  Since my camera was also snuggling down there I must have looked a very peculiar shape as I walked down the street!

The rest of the day was spent quietly on the porch after a re-visit to Cafe Michelle for another go at the wonderful halibut, and then bed.