– Doug McConnell

As I’ve mentioned here and there on the television series and this website, I’ve had a long love affair with Alaska.  I moved to Ketchikan in 1973 to help organize the local planning department and do a comprehensive and transportation plan for the community.  In 1975, I moved to Anchorage and did many projects for the Governor’s Office, the Alaska Humanities Forum, the University of Alaska, Alaska Public Television, the Capital Site Selection Committee and many others.  When President Carter was in office, I commuted to Washington quite a bit for a variety of fascinating assignments, but my heart and my home remained in Alaska.

My wife and I our two dogs finally left Alaska in 1982 so that I could get back into television full time.   We moved to Seattle and I went to work for legendary KING Television.  At the end of 1983, we moved to the Bay Area to be closer to our families and raise our kids, but we never lost our affection for Alaska and we get back as often as possible.  Since 2002, I’ve served on the board of the Alaska Conservation Foundation.

Driving the Dalton Highway was a treat, but one of the things I love most about Alaska is how few roads there really are.  In the Lower 48 states, I don’t think it’s possible now to be more than 14 miles from a road.   That may not be exactly right, but it’s close.  In Alaska, you can find yourself hundreds and hundreds of miles from the nearest roadway of any kind.  In fact, from the northern reaches of the Dalton Highway….due east and west…the nearest roads of any magnitude are thousands of miles away.  There are few places on earth where that can be said, and may it remain true for a long time to come.

For the Public Television broadcast, we had to leave out some other portions of our shoot along and near the Dalton Highway that I liked very much.   But, you can find them here on OpenRoad.TV. The stories are in the column to the right.  You can see the full lengths of our two stories about driving the Dalton Highway, and meet some other interesting people including Eric May, an old friend who lives in Europe and just happened to be in Coldfoot when we got there.  He was working with a German television crew. Now what are the odds of that chance encounter?  Actually, in Alaska, places like tiny Coldfoot become sort of Grand Central Stations.   Stay there long enough and everybody will show up eventually.

And then, you can take a flight with us deep into the Brooks Range to visit the eskimo village of Anaktuvak Pass located in a stark, imposing and magnificently beautiful setting.

Alaska is a forceful place.  It grabs hold, and doesn’t easily let go. It requires respect and attention, and it can be deadly.  It never lets you forget exactly where you are.  You take it for granted at your peril.  It heightens the senses.  If you’re willing to stay alert and attentive, Alaska is for you.  It certainly is for me.

Zion National Park Photo by Flexidan

WATCH THE EPISODE 6 VIDEO ABOUT THE SOUTHWEST

USEFUL LINKS TO INFORMATION ABOUT THE SOUTHWEST EPISODE

– Doug McConnell

Back in the late 60’s, I worked for awhile on the Navajo Reservation and had a chance to explore the Grand Canyon and the colorful landscape of southern Utah quite a bit.  I was hooked by its sheer beauty and wildness, and have returned as often as possible to visit some of my favorite haunts and to discover new canyons and vistas.

I’ve been to Zion National Park and its neighborhood many times and in every season.  One of my favorite trips was long ago, in the winter of 1971 and 1972. In those days, Zion was very quiet in the “off season.”   Which meant it was the “on season” for me.  I spent about a week in Springdale, Utah, at the west entrance to the Park.  As far as I remember, I was about the only tourist in town and the only guy in Zion for 8 days.

A light snow fell in the first few days I was there, and I spent many hours cross-country skiing absolutely alone beside the North Fork of the Virgin River and beneath the towering cliffs of Zion.  It all reminded me of a red rock version of Yosemite Valley.

One day, I took my four wheel drive, an old Ford Bronco, and drove deep into the high backcountry.  The snow was deeper there, and as I skied through it the only tracks I saw belonged to a mountain lion.  I encountered its large and very fresh prints high on a remote ridge line, and decided it was wise to make a gradual u-turn and descend slowly back towards the car.  The lion surely had its eyes on me, but was even more leery than I was I’m sure.

I’ve always loved being in places where I’m not at the top of the food chain. It heightens my senses and gives me a visceral appreciation of the power of nature and the the vulnerability of humanity.  It’s pretty humbling really to be in the presence of lions, bears and sharks for example…and we humans need to be humbled every now and then.   Hubris will take us long before the lions ever do.  Tragedies do happen, and people are killed by predators. I don’t mean to minimize those dangers or make light of deadly encounters,  but when you think of the millions of us wandering through their habitats every year, the numbers of human deaths caused by critters is miniscule. They’ve always had much more to fear from us than we have to fear from them.  Be smart.  Take appropriate precautions.  Be alert. And then, with rare exceptions, the animals of the West will give you a wide berth.  Frankly, after all my time in the backcountry out this way, I’m still
waiting to see my first mountain lion in the wild. They’re pretty shy.

Zion’s wildness was bracing and beautiful.   I hated to leave that winter retreat, but I’ve returned to watch nature’s handiwork there many times since.  She always puts on quite a show….and I hope you go see it for yourself.

Premiers May 4 @ 7:30 on KQED.   Explore the island of Catalina above and below the sea.  (See Doug’s post below.)  Discover intriguing roadside attractions… Forestiere Underground Gardens in Fresno,  Litto’s Hubcap Ranch in northern California’s Pope Valley and the David Douglas Memorial on the Big Island of Hawaii.  Then meet Lu Huan, an amazing carver of stone.  If you miss it on KQED, watch the video here.

– Doug McConnell

At the very turn of the last century, in 1900, my mother’s father, then 17, found himself in the little port town of Santa Monica in southern California. It was reasonably quiet with many long and largely empty beaches.  Ray Gregory wisely decided to stick around, and so that’s where my mom grew up, where she met my dad (who had been raised on a homestead near Flathead Lake in Montana) and where my two older brothers and I were born.

Avalon Harbor photo by The Ritters

As a little kid, I loved getting down to the beach and could often see some islands floating on the waves out to the southwest.  But I never got to Catalina until I was in my early 20s. I spent a few months in late 1968 and early ‘69 visiting high schools on behalf of my alma mater, Pomona College, located east of Los Angeles about 30 miles in the village of Claremont. In those days, there was a boarding school between Avalon and Two Harbors, and I flew out there in a seaplane to meet the students.   I’ll never forget that short flight. I boarded the plane in Long Beach.  The pilot was straight from central casting.  Deep tan. Aviator shades.  A fine head of dark hair swept back by ocean breezes or some powerful jell.  He was draped in a dashing purple scarf flung recklessly over his shoulder.   As the small seaplane lifted off and banked over the Pacific, I suspect he imagined himself to be a Pan American Clipper pilot, navigating by the sun and the stars and heading west with the night towards the Orient.  Suddenly it was the 1930s, and very romantic.   A little like Avalon on quiet days.  When we touched the water and taxied to a stop (he was a good pilot it turned out in addition to being a believable actor,) I half expected to see Amelia Earhart waiting for me on the beach….rescued at last from her ditching at sea.  All these years later I have no idea where that pilot and his plane have gone, and Amelia’s fate remains a mystery, but Catalina lingers in its own time zone anchored off the busy 21st century coast of the Southland.  That’s comforting to know.

CLICK HERE to see Catalina and Forestiere Gardens in Episode 5 of OpenRoad with Doug McConnell

I lived in southern California until I was 8, and then we moved to Fresno and for a time lived about a mile from the Forestiere Underground Gardens.  Back in those days, the Forestiere family had no control of the place and it was marketed by others as a cheesy roadside attraction…come see the work of the “Human Mole.”   It was even featured on a national TV show in the 50s as a strange roadside oddity.   And so we never visited it.   It wasn’t until decades later when I learned that the  family had taken control to honor the work of their uncle that I decided to  go.  And I was just blown away by the beauty and ingenuity of the Gardens….and by the amount of work it took to carve a castle by hand from the rock hard soil near Fresno. It was an amazing achievement.  You’ll especially appreciate its value on summer days when temperatures soar well above 100 degrees fahrenheit.  Step down into the natural cool grasp of the earth….and you’ll experience air conditioning that leaves no carbon footprint.

I hope you send us some ideas about your favorite “roadside attractions” and romantic getaways.   The world…and of course the West…are full of them…and we’d love to hear your stories.