5/23 & 5/24/ 2023: Chena Ice Museum-Delta Junction-Glennallen!

When Steven and I tried to check in at the Chena Hot Springs Resort the day before, we encountered the receptionists chatting nonstop with each other, trying to appear oblivious to our presence for far too long. Checking into our room a bit later, we found nothing but a bed and a dresser, and, later, mice scurrying around the room! All that, combined with a very hefty price, unfriendly staff, and uncomfortably chilly temperatures all night long with inadequate bed coverings, made us wish we hadn't chosen to stay overnight. We were both flabbergasted at the lack of customer service.

When I spoke with management in the morning, they were incredibly nonchalant about the mice, simply saying, "Yes, we have mice in Alaska" and offering no apology! However, I was given two complimentary tickets to the resort's ice museum, but Steven wasn't interested.

Our guide told us that the ice museum was kept at a constant 24 degrees year-round.

The flowers had come from a recent wedding held there! The guide told us there was one usually every couple of months.

The cherry blossoms had been given by a Japanese emperor.

This was one of the most spectacular ice-carved sculptures I'd ever seen. I also spotted a chessboard, but the pieces had melted from being handled so much by the tour participants!

Several participants downed Appletinis in glasses made of ice at the bar. A mindboggling 30,000 glasses are made of ice every year in the museum!

Crashing the ice glasses post-use!

A few minutes from the resort, we stopped for one of the most picturesque shots of a moose we could imagine!

En route to Delta Junction, a five-hour drive southeast of Fairbanks, we drove past the Tanana River with the Alaska Range in the background.

Steven and I were glad that we'd decided to take a circuitous route back to Anchorage via the paved Richardson Highway, which stretched all the way from Fairbanks to Valdez, the northernmost ice-free port in the country. During the gold rush days, the Richardson Highway was the primary route into the interior. Driving the scenic highway made me think that we were retracing the steps of the thousands of wishful gold miners, only a few of whom actually struck it rich

More roller coaster-like frost heaves!

Tanana Bridge:

A little shy of Delta Junction was Buffalo Center Drive-in, a blast from the past with an actual drive-in and no indoor seating. We ordered yummy burgers and fries from the walk-up window.

Steven's tootsies poking out at our hotel in Delta Junction that night!

5/24: The next morning, Steven and I spent some time in Delta Junction, a town initially founded as a telegraph station in 1904, before being chosen as the base for a buffalo importation program in the 1920s using stock brought in from Montana. By 1947, the herd had grown to 400 animals. The town served, and still serves, as an essential crossroads for farmers, gold miners, the military, and, nowadays, tourists like us.

The sleepy agricultural community of about 1,000 was located two hours south of Fairbanks, at the junction of the Richardson Highway and at the northern terminus of the Alaska Highway, also called the Alcan Highway, the only road that connects the state to Canada and the Lower 48 states. 

Us in front of the 1,422 Mile Marker:

The highway was constructed during World War II as a military supply route for the Alaskan interior. In 1942, seven army regiments and 42 contractors and public roads administrators working from Delta Junction south and Dawson Creek north completed it when they met at Soldier's Summit at Kluane Lake, Yukon, in November of 1942. At the peak of construction, 15,000 men were employed, and 11,000 pieces of road-building equipment were used on the 1,422-mile road.

The mosquitoes were large enough to carry us away!

Eight miles north of Delta Junction was the excellent Big Delta State Historical Park, which centered around the 1913 Rika's Roadhouse. It began as a center for gold stampeders and freighters, but was transformed into a reconstructed museum of area life during the 1920s and 1930s. The community of Big Delta began during the Gold Rush era as a trading post and roadhouse, serving prospectors and travelers. Known for many years as McCarty, Big Delta was a link in the paths of travel and trade. It was located at the intersection of waterways, trails, and telegraph lines. 

A steamboat docked at McCarty:

By 1906, fourteen people had settled around the trading post. The same year, the Army moved its telegraph line from the north to the south side of the Tanana River. Until the construction of the military cable and telegraph station, it took a year to send a message from interior Alaska to Washington, DC, and receive an answer! Later, it built a station at McCarty. Once John Hajdukovich bought the trading post in 1909, he added the two-story log roadhouse known as Rika's, which stands at the site today. In 1913, hundreds of stampeders from Fairbanks passed through McCarty en route to the Chisana gold fields on the upper Tanana River. Improvements to the Valdez to Fairbanks Trail, now called the Richardson Highway, brought more travelers to the roadhouse, and by 1926, Rika Wallen had added the east-west wing. McCarty remained a small center for trade, transportation, and communication until World War II.

Rika's homestead, which included a barn and outbuilding, was fundamental to the operation of the roadhouse. Rika's Holstein cows, oxen, sheep, goats, and chickens had protection in this barn during the long, cold winters. Cattle were raised for milk and meat. Calving was carefully timed to have milk available year-round. Cheese and butter were made by Rika from goat's milk, which she kept cool in the spring house. In addition to maintaining her own livestock in the barn, she occasionally wintered horses for miners and prospectors in the area. The barn's unusual design came from her native Sweden. 

A spring ran under and through the spring house, keeping Rika's eggs, butter, and cheese cool during the summer months. 

Rika tended a large vegetable garden and cultivated crops to support her livestock and roadhouse. Because her renowned garden was so successful, the Cooperative Extension Service at the University of Alaska studied her farming techniques. In addition to harvesting hay, potatoes, and turnips, Rika raised chickens and ducks so she could serve fresh eggs to her patrons. Rika is second from the left.

The Guide to Travel on the Richardson Highway, published in 1928, described Rika's as a "commodious roadhouse boasting such luxuries as fresh milk and domestic fowl." All this was hard work for one woman. At times, Rika employed a cook and hired miners to help with the crops, construct and repair buildings, and perform other odd jobs.

The sod-roofed cabin was a reconstruction of a homestead outbuilding that once stood here. It served as a museum showcasing selections from the Delta Historical Society's collection. 

The women's outhouse:

The windmill powered the well pump and later generated electricity to charge vehicle batteries. The original windmill was built for Rika in 1932. 

As we continued driving south, we saw Donnelly Dome peaking out from among the trees. According to Tom Buntzen, a state geologist with the Alaska Division of Geological and Geophysical Surveys, Donnelly Dome shouldn’t even be here. “It is out of place,” he said. “A glacier went down the Delta River valley. It should have sheared Donnelly Dome off, but it didn’t." The dome resisted being scraped from the earth while those around it crumbled under the force of an Alaska Range glacier that covered the area 70,000 to 100,000 years ago. It may have had the luck to squeeze between two separate tongues of the glacier, Buntzen added.

The eye-catching Castner Glacier on the southern flank of the Delta Range, an eastern section of the Alaska Range: 

The views of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, which we first saw the day before, gave us an appreciation of the challenging engineering feat.

The rocks on the hillside had an interesting green hue as we entered the community of Paxson.

But we somehow passed through Paxson without ever knowing it, unless Paxson only consisted of the few houses we noticed on the hill. 

After a five-hour-plus drive from Chena Hot Springs, I can't begin to tell you how relieved we were to finally come across the remote Meiers Lake Roadhouse in tiny Gakona, situated near the east end of the Denali Highway, and discover it open. There had been no services along the entire 2.5-hour stretch from Delta Junction to Gakona. Thank goodness we had topped off with gas there, but we were getting hungry. 

Steven and I half-joked that if someone was looking for a job in the middle of nowhere, Alaska, and could make a grilled cheese sandwich, they should apply for a job at Meiers, as it would have to be better than the miserable excuse for what we were given!

What a challenge it must have been to construct this section of the Richardson Highway. This was the most developed part of the highway we had found all day. We just saw about six reindeer crossing the highway in front of us, but I was bummed that I couldn't get my camera phone ready fast enough.

After such a long and mostly desolate drive, Steven and I were both relieved to reach the town of Glennallen, our destination for the night. It was named after two early explorers, Henry Allen, a lieutenant who travelled through this area in 1885 on his way to the Yukon River, and Capt. Edwin Glenn, part of the U.S. Government survey crew for the Richardson Highway that came through in 1898-99. 

People first moved here when the Glenn Highway was finished in 1945, linking the Copper River and Matanuska valleys. More came in 1956 with the opening of the Copper Valley School, founded by Jesuits and other religion-focused pioneers from both western Alaska and the Palmer area. The next big population push came in the late 1970s, when Glennallen served as living quarters and a supply depot for the construction of the oil pipeline from Prudhoe Bay to the port in Valdez. "The folks who moved here then were known more for sinning than for soul-saving." We read that people today will still find remnants of both groups!

The Antlers Rest Bed & Breakfast was a delightful place to rest our weary bones, especially after our miserable night at Chena Hot Springs. There was ample communal space, a large and attractively decorated room, and a fully stocked kitchen. Even though it still cost a hefty $179 per night in 2023, it was infinitely less than the so-called resort!

Next post: A stunning stretch of the Richardson Highway south to Palmer and visiting the Williams Reindeer Farm.

Posted on January 4th, 2026, from Denver, where I almost feel guilty to admit we're enjoying another day with temps in the high 60s, so early in the new year! I know Colorado's ski resorts are having a terrible time with the lack of snow, but we flatlanders are loving the sunny skies and warm temps. Please take care of yourself and your loved ones.