Travel By The Top Of The World

There is another way out of Alaska than through Tok. It's a "highway", and I use the term loosely, that winds its way from Chicken to Dawson City, Yukon, Canada through the Ogilvie and Tintina Mountain Range. It is not a route for the faint of heart. It is 108 miles of mostly gravel roadway. There are no shoulders, although the tour book describes the road as having "soft shoulders." The truth is that if you put your outside wheels on what they are calling a shoulder you will roll over.....and over and over and over, as some of the fall aways are steep and long- a few are straight down and can drop hundreds of feet if you happen to pick the wrong spot to have a problem. Most people would never have a problem, excepting to say that from time to time you must pass vehicles going in the opposite direction...and some of those vehicles are oil tankers that have little regard for their own vehicles, the speed limits, and the fact that in many places the road is only wide enough for one and a half vehicles. Something's got to give! The best driving advice I can give to any of you who will make the attempt: STOP in the face of all BIG vehicles traveling straight at you and wait til they have passed. Let them be the ones who are moving when the pass takes place and the ones who are at risk of launching themselves off the side of the mountain. There are a few, very few, sections of the highway that are paved. You would think that a paved section is a good section. No! It's not. In fact it can be far worse than the gravel and when you look at the photos you will see such a location.
Now I know I just made this road seem dangerous, perilous, difficult. It is all of those things. But like many things in life, you take the good with the bad. You see the road happens to carry you across the tops of the mountain range for nearly it's entire length of existence. The view is awesomely breathtaking and if there is a better view mile after mile after mile anywhere in the world, I cannot tell you where that would be. Before getting to Chicken, we were chicken to take that route out of state. But because our nerve, our experience and our confidence all peaked at the same time, we decided we would attempt to make that run. What a great confluence of factors, what a great ride, what a great day, what an amazing experience. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger is the moral of the story of this trip. Without doing this run, our Alaskan experience would have been seriously lacking. It was an "oh my God" day from start to finish. I described reaching Dawson City in an e mail to family and friends this way:

"The road pretty much sets the speed you can travel- about 12 miles an hour, but as you drive along the peaks of amazing mountains for mile after mile (There a reason they call it Top of the World) you can seemingly see for thousands of miles in any direction you care to look. Everything was dark red, bright yellow and shades of green- never saw anything like it. A mistake on this highway would be a big one! But today there were none and we can claim the summit of an RV adventure challenge second to none."

Oh, and one more thing...even after you have made the run, you cannot reach Dawson City by land route, you must traverse the mighty Yukon River by ferry boat. That's what they call it. I call it an open ended barge. You be the judge. I'll attempt to tell the story with the photos and let them speak pretty much for themselves.

I'm only one day out of Alaska. But I'm ready to go back!

Let's start the photos from Top of the World Highway with a couple photos of the only man made thing of interest on the whole trip- the Jack Wade Dredge. As cool as the dredges are, this one looks like it recovered its last ounce of gold and then just gave up the ghost and died right there. There is an eerie beauty in the passing of man made objects that are slowly being reclaimed into the natural world into which they were previously super-imposed.


The vista is large enough to see many weather patterns at work across the area. On a clear day, yes, you can see forever...
Check out the edge of the road (Oh, and once again, if you are a new reader, click on the photos to enlarge and back arrow to return to blog). If you want to call that a shoulder, be my guest. But one tire on that edge and you will be in the river in the valley a mile below- just as soon as you stop rolling. IF you stop rolling.
The topography gives you glimpses of the road ahead. Take advantage of that to scout for on coming vehicles. Take appropriate action when you spot one. You can't get there fast anyway. You can get there alive and well, however slowly.


There is ONE way station along the route. This one and only one station advertised "emergency tire repair." You want your tires fixed here? Me? I'll drive on the rim.
There is just so much space out here. The weather changed around almost every bend. As we left the border crossing around 40 miles into the trip, the perfectly clear, sunny day gave way instantly to a line of snow squalls that plagued us for a short while. The road ahead, a sharp downhill decline, became a sheet of ice in 60 seconds or less. I slowed the coach as much as possible- there is no place to stop, if in fact you could stop. It's a good time for prayer, yes? Ice on the road. No pull off. No flat place to stop. No guard rails. No shoulder on the road. Nothing to stop you until you hit bottom should you go off the road. No option but to proceed with caution. That is the story of this entire 108 mile piece of roadway.
Instant ice ahead with no warning what-so-ever. At this moment in time I was paying for gravel, not paved surface with an ice slick on it.
A short time later, the weather was nice again. But not all rigs make it across the rough road without some trouble. We stopped to help by loaning some much needed wrenches to replace two belts that this rig had thrown. It's not a place you want to be stopped in the middle of the road!
Finally, below the highway in the distance and across the mighty Yukon River- Dawson City.
Ferry? You call that a ferry?
OK. Two vans maybe, but a 43' coach and a van. I'm not so sure...
Terminal. Hello! Where's the terminal? You don't need no stinking terminal? Just beach that little sucker? Then drive it off on the other side?
OK, if you say so. Off with the old, on with the new. "Yes, Greg, the emergency brake IS ON!"
"Boat ride? What boat ride? Nobody told me there was gonna be a boat ride? Hey This is cool!"
All ashore that's going ashore!
Welcome to Dawson City, Yukon! Alaska is in the rear view mirror for now.

Gold That Tastes Like Chicken?

You've all heard it said before. What does that taste like? Well, it tastes like chicken. Everything we can't describe otherwise "tastes like chicken." So when we announced a change in plans that would take us to the Original Gold Camp" at Chicken, Alaska, of course the question came in from son Derek: "Hey, Dad, does everything up there taste like chicken?" And while it was a question asked with tongue in cheek, I suppose the answer should really be, "Yes, it does." The town, you see, all five or so businesses that call the place home, play on the theme to the fullest extent. You can get a t-shirt with a chick hatching out of an egg that says, "I got laid in Chicken." You can take your picture behind a cutout of an Iditarod sled being pulled by chickens; you can even attend the annual music festival patterned after Woodstock, called, what else, Chickenstock...and on and on.

The town takes it's name from the fact that it was a thriving place during the gold rush days but few if any people who frequented the place could remember how to spell the name of the grouse like bird that was common prey in the area- the Ptarmigan. So rather than try to remember that name and that spelling, they simply referred to them as Chickens and the rest, as they say, is history.

Chicken is clearly one of the premier gold prospecting places left in Alaska. There IS gold in them there hills and you can and will find it if you come to Chicken. That's what we decided we needed to do- take our last best shot at finding our first ever nugget at the place where we figured we would be most likely to do just that, before heading out of Alaska to end our first visit to a truly great and amazing state. We pulled in to the Original Chicken Gold Camp upon arrival.
We had expected the isolated road to Chicken. We knew not to expect much if anything in the way of services once we got there. We knew power was generator driven and was limited to certain times a day. We knew water would be at a premium. We knew there would be no "full hookup" RV connections in that region of the state. We had expected and prepared for a bare necessities kind of week while in pursuit of the nugget. So imagine our pleasant surprise to find one of the most well laid out (sorry, chickens, no pun intended), attractive, well run camping and activity operations we have come across anywhere in the state. The water is priceless; the power is limited, etc. but in compensation for that, the staff is knowledgeable, openly friendly and helpful. The place is whistle clean, the firewood is available for the taking (none of this 5 bucks for 5 sticks like many other campgrounds have). Access to everything you need is easy. The gift shop is superb. The kitchen cafe is offering daily gourmet treats that bring Chicken up to the level of sophisticated dining that you can enjoy in coveralls and a flannel shirt at the end of a day at the mine. Want to see the wine list??? I am going to follow all this with a few of my photos, but please note the link to the Chicken Gold site above as that will provide much more info and photo gallery than I will do for this post.

And I'm putting my final comments ahead of the the add on stuff because I think it's the thing to do. We went to Chicken looking for gold. You know, that yellow ore that so many value so highly. We found lots of gold. We found flour gold, fine gold, flakes of gold and, yes, Chicken delivered up our first nugget- actually we got more than a few of them following our week there. But somewhere along about mid week, the whole value of this monumental trip we have undertaken came into focus for me. I realized that you spend your whole life prospecting for things that matter to you- happiness, love, friendship, comfort, experience, maybe even a little real gold. Some things you find along life's trail are but small tokens of these great values, so you pick them up and gather them up, dust them off, and put them in your little vial. Occasionally, there are nuggets to be found, in a friend who would share your Hope for gold, in the sun bouncing off Denali on the clearest of days, in the glistening chards of ice as the lake opens to the Spring, in the twinkle of the eye of the bear who knows you are there but will pretend, at least for now, that you are not bothering him all that much. Soon you discover that all those tiny particles of gold you have gathered, when combined with the larger pieces and maybe even a few nuggets life has provided you, has given you that full vial of gold you have been looking for all along. Your treasure is complete and satisfying when you realize you have already found it...and not before. So to everyone along the way, thanks for helping us find our treasure in you and with your help. To the super team at the Little Chicken That Thought He Could Gold Camp that helped to put the final pieces to the puzzle together- salutations one and all. Like all the others who made contributions before you, you will always travel with us in our hearts.

It was quick and easy to get comfortable here. Plenty of space, great vistas, a warm campfire...
You can pan all day without ever leaving camp if that is what you want to do. The pay dirt from the camp owned mining operation is very rich. This is the view out the front of the coach from our campsite.
The dredge that owners Mike and Lou Busby bought and restored to amazing condition is also right in the heart of the campground for all to inspect.
Outhouses for Roosters and Hens and Handicapped. Hey! This is Chicken ____!
It's a two mile drive or so to the off premises gold claim if you want to make a mini claim of your own while you are there. Then make a 1/4 mile hike in, toting your gear. Wow! What a place!
Here's your first ever look at Gundy Mountain- our claim for a week, working a hole with a floor of basalt (fractured bedrock) about 20 feet up the bank and 100 feet or so from where we operated our sluice box.
Those 5 gallon buckets full of rock and gravel are darn heavy. Down the hill as far as possible by rope, then hand lugged to the sluice. We finished the week in much better physical shape than we started out, believe me. Now that's what a call a high banker!
The tons of tailings from our screening (called "classifying") eventually made such a pile that I could walk up and down the hill to the claim.
Gold Guy Gary stopped by to check on us regularly, as did Bob and Lynn. They are a wealth of knowledge and do their utmost to ensure that every one has two things: fun and success. Gary's named his gun: American Express. Never leaves home without it. I asked him if it was for protection from bears or claim jumpers. His answer: "I don't much worry about bears!"
Whisker week at Chicken Creek. Gotta try and fit in ya know.
Lynn and Gary check out our gold finds as Marilyn does some more clean up in the background. Note grill- used for drying the gold in the metal pan to get ready for weighing.
What the gold wheel can't separate- the finest gold and the black sand, must be done by hand. Every little bit counts. You worked hard for it!
Lynn shows off his best take ever- 9 hours shoveling time into his high banker over a three day period. Someday I hope to have a day like that myself!
Here it is again. Can you lip read? "Greg, honey, why didn't we have a day like this? Do you think we can do this tomorrow?"
This family worked a claim just a little further down Chicken Creek from our claim. This a great family place! And a great family activity. When mom and dad weren't driving the 4 wheeler, the girls were. "Not too fast, dad, gotta keep the hair lookin' good!"
Owner, hostess, chef, bottle washer, buyer, sales clerk, server, bookkeeper, guide and minister of information, Lou Busby smiles from behind the kitchen window. Like the successful small business owners she and her husband Mike are, they open early, close late, and keep close tabs on everything that gets done in between...then goes on call for after hours issues. Their energy, their expertise, their effervescent personalities, combined with a like minded support staff, make this a first class, not-to-be-missed operation.
The staff and some close friends dine together at the end of the day and nearing the end of the season. We were honored to get to join them. They made us feel like part of the crew, and that my friends, is the way it ought to be.
Mike prepares to make the official weigh in from the Gundy Mountain Gold Claim weekly operation. 1/4 OZ! And some nuggets to go with it. That's Marilyn and Garry watching the scale and Judy and Lou in the background.
Take for the week. Note nice nugget lower left portion of tray. What a week it was!!!!

Alaska In Review

When you see Alaska from a vehicle, as opposed to from a plane or boat, there is essentially only one place to enter and exit the state- the town of Tok: pronounced like it rhymes with joke; not like the second half of “Tic ___,” the sound your grandfather’s clock used to make in the parlor. No matter where you are in the state when it’s time to head out, it’s time to head back to Tok. All roads lead to Tok; no joke! And since we were about as far away from Tok as you can get by road when we wrapped up our nearly month long stay on the Kenai Peninsula, the ride back toward Tok felt a bit like a rewind and a review as we backtracked past so many places that we had explored in depth and had such great times and experiences. I already mentioned that we drove to Homer to pay our final respects to the spit, the place where I caught my first silver salmon and learned the technique to do just that. Then back through Anchor Point and Ninilchik where we fished and clammed and rode ATV’s on the beach for many miles. Next through Soldotna where I caught my first ever Red (Sockeye) salmon in the mighty Kenai River and then past the town by the same name where we’d explored the old canneries and fishing community. The weather was good to us and there was scenery and mountains that you could just swear were not there the last time you drove by those spots. Then onward north towards Anchorage, past the village of Hope where we spent eight glorious days on the gold claim, working hard, playing hard, and watching the moose and the beavers play in the old settling ponds from the gold mining operation of a generation or more ago. Past the wildlife conservation center at the tip of Turnagain Arm on Cook Inlet where I got some of my very best wildlife shots and past the road that leads to Whittier and the train tunnel through the mountain. Beluga Point, a favorite spot for seeing Beluga whales on the incoming tide was on our left and Dall sheep were still playing on the rock faces on our right as we headed past the marshes and into the city, where we hooked up just long enough for lunch with Gary and Judy and thanked them yet again and said our fare-thee-wells until we meet again. Then on to Palmer for the biggest of the Alaska State Fairs. We tried desperately to get tickets for the Charlie Daniels band on Saturday night, but the concert venue within the fair grounds is very limited and the tickets literally went “sold out” just as we got to the head of the line. Big bummer! So on to Glenallen, the ONLY place in all of Alaska that we visited this summer where the mosquitoes gave us a run for our money! Tomorrow we will pass the cutoff to Valdez, one of my personal favorites, and again the cruising review of our journey will conjure up fond memories of marvelous adventure.

From there back to Tok we will travel the Tok Cutoff road- our first time on that piece of highway, then north from Tok about 40 miles to the Towns of Chicken (and Eagle) where we hope to spend our final week in the state making one last try for that Alaskan gem of jewels- the gold nugget. WE both have the gold fever bad! No, we really don’t care all that much for jewelry at all and it isn’t the monetized value of anything that we find that matters a hoot either; it’s just the thrill of knowing that that next shovel or pan full of dirt might surprise you with something with a value greater than anything you can put into perspective with a $$ sign. I’m sure it’s like finding the perfect specimen to any collector. No matter what it’s worth, you know you will keep it for the collection rather than part with it to someone else for almost any reason. When I fill my gold pan with gravel and sand and dirt and start to wash it out in the river, I feel vaguely like a kid with a box of Cracker Jacks that he just opened. I don’t know for sure there is anything in the bottom of that pan, but I think there probably is. I don’t care what it is exactly, but I am just really happy working my way down to where the prize starts to reveal itself. I fully understand my chances for a prize of any value is slim, but I don’t care because the anticipation is bringing such great joy.

Anyway, Chicken puts us close to the border for when this chapter of the Great Alaskan Adventure will draw to a close. Regrettably it must. But when it does, our next destination will be Seattle where we get to finally visit #1 son Derek after many years of not being able to get together with him. And that’s like a whole ‘nuther box of Cracker Jacks!

Following is some pics and comments from our swan song travel back towards Tok:

Our TOAD, the affectionate term RV'ers give to the vehicles they tow (i.e. "towed") has been fitted with a sexy new "sports bra" for the trip back through Canada on the Cassiar Highway. Hopefully this will afford it some increased protection against mud, sand, gravel and small boulders thrown by the big rigs and logging trucks frequenting this gravel-in-many-places highway this time of year. Radiators and windshields frequently fall prey to these predatory drivers.
One of the single most things I had hoped to see in Alaska on this trip was the spawning of the Sockeye (Red) salmon. We came upon them doing just that in the head waters of the Kenai River just below Kenai Lake. The fish are bright red and green, jaws crooked, and nothing stops them from their appointed mission in life: to spawn, and then to die. It is a most amazing process to see. We stood silent for a long time and merely observed one of the most interesting processes nature has to offer. Pictures are best viewed by clicking on them to enlarge.



Remember Ted from the Mattress Ranch? I caught up with him at the state fair on Friday raising funds for Cystic Fibrosis. Neat guy! Hey! He's a blog reader!!!!He said Larry sent the link to everyone he could think of...Thanks, Larry and Ted.
The Lumberjack show/contest at the fair made for some great entertainment!
I can do that.... Not!
Jousting...
Log rolling. Somebody's gonna get wet here in a minute.
4H. GOT MILK?
Dude, you're gonna need that oriental energy drink! What a backdrop for a fair!
The human sling shot...
I told Marilyn if she bought too many things at the fair she'd have to "totem" herself. Get it? Huh? Huh?
Hair today, gone tomorrow.
The next three shots are of Sheep Mountain on the Glenn Highway. We've seen bigger, meaner, snowier mountains than this is, but this gets my vote as the prettiest mountain I have ever seen- at least so far. The color comes from oxidized gypsum and is exactly the same mineral that draws the sheep to the mountain which acts as a huge mineral lick to supplement the sheep's' diet. If you don't ever get into clicking on the photos to enlarge them, PLEASE do it to these. Beautiful...and all natural.


The cranberries are almost ready to pick,
And the blueberries are ready now. Yum!
We stopped at Trader Jim's Trading Post in Mendeltna (pop. 67) for a private lesson on tomahawk throwing. Hey, it turns out we're both pretty good! I promise I will never tell Marilyn she throws like a girl again. Ever. At least not while she's holding a tomahawk!
It turns out that Jim's wife went to a high school near where I grew up in Reading, PA. (Boyertown High) My high school (Wilson) was the national marching band champions in those days and Boyertown was one of our arch rivals. Would you believe she was in the honor guard of her school's band and we probably competed against each other in that capacity all those years ago. There's another one for the small world theory.
The trading post is a wee small little outpost at the bridge on the Mendeltna River, just outside Glenallen, and I think it's a must stop if you wish to try a skill few will ever attempt to teach you. Cost? None, other than some get acquainted casual conversation. Nice folks!

Behind The Blog

I think the latter part of August in Alaska is a time of melancholy- for me anyhow. For the last better part of three months I have been writing and sharing images of a most amazing place. A world where adventure is around every corner. A world where every sight is more majestic and captivating than the one before. A world where the daily discovery of something new is the rule and not the exception. We have loved being in Alaska, so as the time we can spend here draws down, I am already feeling a personal sense of sadness in testimony to that fact. Has it been all good? For the most part, yes. Have there been days when life's little "man on your shoulder" offers up his little list of daily challenges? Sure. Has everything gone exactly as planned? Well, honestly, NO, but that is in large part what made the time spent here so magical.
By design I have tried not to get too far into anything in the form of the downfalls, the larger challenges, the problems that popped up from time to time. I've tried my level best to keep these musings more about Alaska and how we saw and felt about it and less about my own personal matters- things that maybe work their way into my head but shouldn't work their way into the blog on a daily basis. But now in this time of admitted melancholy, I'm feeling the two separate worlds coming much closer together than they did at the onset. There is more to life than fun and adventure.
I'd "mentally postponed", while we have been traveling, the fact that the real estate market in Florida, where we have our home base and a house for sale, has gone from bad to worse, but the tax bill seems to be getting delivered to the mail box anyhow. I keep thinking that wonderful commercial building I have in Maine with all three of the best attributes a piece of property can have (Location. Location. Location.) should have sold a long time ago, but for one reason or another that won't give up the ghost either. With those properties in tow, life on the road remains a great deal more complicated than we would like our life to be right now.
Add to that family health issues back in Pennsylvania: dad was hospitalized with a heart attack a couple weeks back, Aunt Dot, who has other more serious health concerns, fell and shattered her hip joint which required emergency replacement, forcing my mother who has some concerns of her own to be in the position of worrying and visiting both of them on a non stop basis. My sister, who lives close by, stopped by the hospital to check on everybody and tripped in the parking lot on a "speed bump"and had to go to emergency for x-rays of her own. What are the odds for that? Since things have seemingly stabilized all around there for the time being, we decided to try and stick out the rest of our time in Alaska. Flying back and forth this close to snow fall and icing conditions up here, risking stranding the coach, and maybe Marilyn and Abby as well, isn't a very attractive option, and since there is nothing of an immediate nature that we could do there, we're just plugging along day to day, trying to stay in close contact to home, and trying to look out far enough ahead to be able to make a move on short notice if we are needed there right away. Alaska is not the "state next door". By drive time through Canada and across the country we are weeks away at best. So with every move we make now, a new "emergency plan" must be formulated. That's just the way it is.
And to complicate even that, we have decided to pull up stakes on the Kenai Peninsula and head up to Chicken with the idea that maybe we can fill that one goal that has eluded us thus far- the revered gold nugget. Chicken is a VERY rural area of the state; communications from there are considerably more challenging than they are from here. That's the bad news. The good news is that from Chicken we will be several days closer to the lower 48 drive-time wise should we need to move up the date of departure from Alaska. When our state tour began some three months ago- we were "chicken." While it was a place we dearly wanted to visit, the unknowns and our own inexperience with the coach in "less than full hookup mode" made us skip that part of the adventure. More or less we put that on the "next trip" list of things to do- but with everything else falling in to place as it is, this may be our only chance to do this for a long time to come. Weighing the situation on a daily basis- this looks like the best option all around.
Yesterday I wrapped up the season's fishing with the best day I ever had here: 22 Coho (Silver) salmon all in the 10 pound class, a sea run cutthroat trout in the same size range, a Dolly Varden, my first ever, and a Sockeye (Red) salmon for good measure that went about 5 pounds or so. Released fish MUST be unhooked and released without lifting them out of the water, which is why there are photos of the "keepers" only. Oh, and if you think a 10 pound Coho is standing still in the water while you take its picture- think again! Those little rascals can go upstream a hundred feet or downstream the same distance within a matter of seconds after being hooked. If freight trains ran under water and at the speed of Amtrak- that's what they'd be like.

Gonna need a bigger grill!!!
Maybe it's hard to see the size of the fish whole and in the rain- but here's a look at one of the four fillets from the two limit keepers.
Leaves are turning before the end of August. The dandelions, the first weed to bloom most other places has just begun to bloom here, and already it's leaves are going red. Talk about a short growing season. And a sign of what is to follow...

Above and below, we drove down to Homer one last time. What a wonderful place. Abby made her August visit to the vet to get "her nails done" and to get her thyroid meds regulated yet one more time.
I don't think I would ever be able to live in Alaska year 'round. Too cold for this old body and too dark for too long in the winter for this old mind. BUT: I don't really want to leave Alaska either. Between the days growing short, the constant rains of August, and all the pressures behind the blog, this is an unsettled time; not one that I would have missed for the world though.

It's Always Something!

The photo below and the article that follows were imported from an internet news article coming out of Anchorage. We thought by coming to Alaska we might escape at least one active season of hurricanes in Florida, but didn't really expect to be swapping that for an active volcano ready to blow off some steam. To be clear- this is NOT one of the four volcanoes we have shown earlier- ones which we ARE close to at the present. This one is (hopefully) plenty far enough away so as not to bother us, but still - not that far away either. Like hurricanes, I find this exciting so long as it doesn't huff and puff and blow my house down.


ANCHORAGE, Alaska - One of Alaska's most active volcanoes could be working toward a massive eruption that could affect air travel but was not expected to threaten any of the towns in the area.
Satellite images of Pavlof Volcano taken Thursday showed strong thermal readings, consistent with what the Alaska Volcano Observatory is calling a "vigorous eruption of lava" at the volcano about 590 miles southwest of Anchorage on the Alaska Peninsula.
The volcano is below the path of hundreds of daily international flight paths, and an explosive eruption could interrupt those operations, said a volcano seismologist with the observatory. Volcanic ash can enter an engine and make it seize up, he said.
The Federal Aviation Administration sent advisories to airlines that might be operating in the area and is monitoring the situation. If there is a severe eruption, flights would have to be diverted, possibly resulting in delays.
Seismic activity is high at the 8,262-foot volcano, with about one tremor recorded every minute. Lahars — mudslides caused when lava melts snow on the peak — have triggered some seismic activity, as well, he said.
The mudslides took place on the southeast side of the volcano, an area inhabited by few, if any, people. Pavlof is about nine miles from Pavlof Bay, a popular fishing ground, but at the moment it isn't posing an immediate threat.
Hazards the volcano could present included light ash fall on nearby communities, mud flows, lava flows and hot debris avalanching on the volcano's flanks.
Several small towns are in the area, including King Cove, which is about 35 miles to the southwest with a population of roughly 800, and Cold Bay, nearly 40 miles southwest with a population of about 90. But they're too far to be affected by lava, and an eruption probably would coat the towns with no more than a 2- or 3-millimeter-thick blanket of ash.
Pavlof, which has had about 40 eruptions since record keeping began in the area in the 1760s, is among the most closely monitored volcanoes in the state, with permanent monitoring equipment installed nearby.
Its last eruption was in 1996; that 11-year span is the longest Pavlof has gone without an event. A string of eruptions took place during the 1970s and 1980s.
A series of ash explosions and lava eruptions took place for several months after the last eruption. Ash clouds reached as high as 30,000 feet at the time. During a 1986 eruption, Pavlof spewed ash as high as 49,000 feet.
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