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Travel log
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Journal date:
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Nov. 30
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Route:
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Haines, Alaska; Haines Junction, Yukon; Whitehorse, Yukon Territory
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Miles today:
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250
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Total miles:
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2,798
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Weather:
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clear and mighty cold
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It's cold, it's clear, we're the only ones here
 | FOLLOW THE JOURNEY |
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 | MESSAGE BOARD |
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Hamann journal: Frozen toes and bloody talons
December 7, 1999
Web posted at: 1:42 p.m. EST (1842 GMT)
EDITOR'S NOTE: Seattle-based correspondent Jack Hamann is nearing the end of another adventure, this one to just to the south of the Arctic Circle. He's driven through the Canadian Rockies, across the windswept northern plains, up the Inside Passage and along the northernmost section of the Alaska Highway. Follow here through Friday for his final dispatches.
By Jack Hamann and Leslie Hamann
Journal date: November 30
Installment #12
(CNN) -- Toes tingle when it's 20 below.
At -20 F, breath condenses to ice on the inside of car windows. The sky turns a surreal purplish-blue. If we stood outside too long, our lips would have done the same.
The day dawned a rather balmy 20 F, after a black-sky-and-bright-stars night in Haines, Alaska. Twenty miles to the north, hot springs warm the Chilkot River. Chum salmon know all the hot spots, and head upstream to lay eggs and die. Every other river within hundreds of miles is now frozen solid, a fact not overlooked by American bald eagles.
As we drove up the Haines highway, we passed a solitary eagle perched on the bare limb of a cottonwood. Minutes later, two eagles flew right above the road, just ahead of our car. Within moments, we saw a dozen eagles roosting in one tree, another dozen nearby. And at the big bend where the river slides next to the highway, literally hundreds of eagles were feeding, flying or digesting their meals.
All this against a backdrop of soaring white peaks beneath a clear winter sky. It was awesome.
Bill Zack, ice hanging from his beard, cracked a wide grin. "You folks have no idea how lucky you are, do you?" he asked us. "We've had three weeks of rain, and absolutely lousy conditions for seeing eagles until today."
Bill is Chief Ranger for the Haines office of Alaska Parks. A few days ago, his partner counted more than 2,000 eagles in the area not far from where we were now standing. "But they were far from the road, because the river was still running fairly freely. Now that the cold weather has finally arrived, the eagles are forced to gather right here."
Bill has personally measured one eagle with a seven-foot wingspan. He confirmed another was at least 28 years old. Even in the sub-freezing temperatures, the smell of rotting fish drifts through the air. Bill says the eagles are getting fatter than ever this year, and that more of the many juveniles perched above us in the trees would survive the winter.
When hundreds of eagles feast on fish, they don't do it quietly. Screams and chirps and howls and chatter filled the frozen air, as eagles searched for breakfast, guarded their stash, or cleaned their feathers after yet another bloody meal. Gulls, magpies and ravens circled each carcass in a nervous dance, dodging the sharp beaks and sharper talons of eagles not yet finished with their filet. When an eagle finally moved on, the hordes of scavengers dived in.
This orgy of eating was overwhelming: magnificent birds devouring majestic fish in a setting that seemed straight out of Alaska's distant past. The salmon -- hatched in this river and fattened in the sea -- were now transferring rich protein they'd absorbed in the ocean to the bellies of the most imposing raptors in North America.
As mesmerizing as it was, only a dozen other people were gathered near the river -- half of them professional photographers or filmmakers, most looking cold but relieved that their long vigil had finally paid off. Once again, our off-season journey to Alaska had taken us far from the crush of crowds. Cold? Sure. Forgettable? No way.
Jack Hamann is a correspondent with CNN's Environmental Unit and CNN NewsStand.
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