My dear friend Allie came up to visit me on August 3rd and stayed until we both flew back to Washington yesterday (Aug. 20). Our plan was to head north from Anchorage stop near Talkeetna on assignment for YD Adventures, to meet Mike who works with youth in Alaska to check out their "facility" which involved a 5 mile hike without a trail to a cabin.
This is Allie standing on the soon-to-be porch of the second cabin. Note the strange color change on her pants. She had an unfortunate run-in with a bog on the way in. Mike let her borrow the rubber boots on the way out so that she would stay a bit drier.
Turns out, Allie has a certain afinity for being wet and sunk her boots in over the top. I should have brought her some hip waders, or maybe a whole dry suit would have been better.
After our hike with Mike. Allie and I continued North to Denali National Park which is just about in the very middle of Alaska. We were hoping to go backpacking for 5 or 6 days. It was drizzling off and on as we prepared to depart but we got our free packcountry permits, bear canisters, and tested my dad's vintage but never used Whisperlite stove. He got the thing for $5 at a garage sale. Those stoves cost $50 or 60 retail, so I was proud of his good find.
Those running Denali Park had the foresight years ago to see that cars would quickly overtake the park and spoil the true wilderness that was found there. So they have for a long time only allowed visitors to travel deep into the park either in the park buses that travel down the 90 mile park road or by foot, on the trailless expanses of tundra and mountains.
The park was originally set aside as a game refuge (named Mt. McKinley National Park) but in 1980, 4 million acres was added to it and the name was changed to Denali National Park. The park is now 6million acres, which make it larger than Allie's home state of Massachusetts! Isn't that just crazy?!
Most if not all of the rivers in the park are runnoff from glaciers melting. Glaciers carve out U shaped valleys, as opposed to the V shaped valleys cut by rivers which makes for very wide stream beds. All the jumbled rock is rock that has been sliced off the sides and bottoms of the valley as the glacier moved through, leaving behind a conglomorate of rubble. The river's channels change quickly eroding from one spot and depositing setiment in another in just days.
I'm so glad I took Geology 101! It is so cool to go out into creation and see the processes that my text book spoke of and unerstand how those rocks got there and why that cliff is a particular color.
At this point, all you need to know is that this picture shows the only clear skies we saw for a long, long time.
When the bus stopped for a break at the Toklat river ranger station, Allie and I went in to check out all the increadible souvineers we could waste our money on and the educational information of course, we heard some kids hollering outside. At first we just thought it was kids hollering like kids do, but we were suspicious. So we walked outside just in time to see this:
There he was, just lumbering by along the river's edge, as if there weren't 30 people watching him. It was pretty crazy; he was only about 30 or maybe 40 feet away! I was stoked to see him then instead of while we were backpacking. We also got to see some dall sheep from afar, and 4 Caribou running along the river.
So as the rain started to drizzle again, we tightened our pack straps and hiked out of sight of the road for the night, excited to finally be away from all the people. We set up our tent and then a cooking area. Becasue of all the wildlife, packpackers are required to make their camp site, cooking area, and bathroom all at least 100 feet away from eachother so that critters attracted to the smell won't come to your tent. Above, Allie (look for the orange speck) is working on dinner while I took this picture from the tent. It looks like she's sitting out in the middle of nowhere, huh?
When the bus stopped for a break at the Toklat river ranger station, Allie and I went in to check out all the increadible souvineers we could waste our money on and the educational information of course, we heard some kids hollering outside. At first we just thought it was kids hollering like kids do, but we were suspicious. So we walked outside just in time to see this:
There he was, just lumbering by along the river's edge, as if there weren't 30 people watching him. It was pretty crazy; he was only about 30 or maybe 40 feet away! I was stoked to see him then instead of while we were backpacking. We also got to see some dall sheep from afar, and 4 Caribou running along the river.
The bus ride to our backountry unit, on the laid-back camper bus, took 4 or 5 hours even though we only covered about 70 miles. Then the bus just dropped us off on the side of the dirt road. If we weren't prepared for packpacking, that bus stop would seem like some sort of cruel joke. They said to get back, all we had to to was flag down another green bus. I hope they're right.
We weren't able to get our first choice of backcountry unit for our first night, so we had to camp on the opposite side of the road and then head into our unit the next day. Our proposed route would take us along Glacier Creek up and then into yet another unit to Anderson Pass or Red Mountain (7,165ft). Because there aren't trails, we get to do all our own route finding and pick our camp sites. This is a pretty unique thing for those of us used to hiking on marked trails that you aren't supposed to get off of. It means more independence and options for the route but it also means moving slower and a lot more thinking about where you are going.
So as the rain started to drizzle again, we tightened our pack straps and hiked out of sight of the road for the night, excited to finally be away from all the people. We set up our tent and then a cooking area. Becasue of all the wildlife, packpackers are required to make their camp site, cooking area, and bathroom all at least 100 feet away from eachother so that critters attracted to the smell won't come to your tent. Above, Allie (look for the orange speck) is working on dinner while I took this picture from the tent. It looks like she's sitting out in the middle of nowhere, huh?
Below you can see our quaint little home. The weather doesn't look too bad at the time of the photo but it rained literally non-stop from the time we exited the bus until we caught a bus back. We scrambled to make dinner as the rain got pushier and were releaved to have 5 minutes of dribbling while we ate.
Us and all our gear was pretty wet by the time we put stuff away and jumped into our haven of near driness. We went to bed early and after several long days with little sleep we were able to relax and sleep in. I think we were both hoping that when we woke up, things would look a bit better outside.
But this stuff, suctioning itself to our tent like a parasite, we saw as we driffed off to sleep. We saw blobs of it laying there in all it's polar glory when we woke up in the middle of the night. And we saw it accumulating still, when we woke up at 11am the next day.
As we lay there, making bets on which blob would be the next to lose its cohesion and roll off the side of the tent, we discussed our options and plan of action. It was precipitationg now, had been for at least 20 hours, and looked like it would be for the foreseeable future. This did not come as a complete surprise. The weather report said the first two days of our trip were supposed to have a CHANCE of rain and then it would just be overcast the rest of the week. We set out with the hopes that the report would be correct and maybe it would even be clear long enough to see "the mountain". Using our best cognitive reasoning, we deduced that if it said cahnge of rain for two days and we had had almost constant rain for those two days, that the report was maybe a bit soft. So we assumed that "overcast" really meant "scattered showers" or maybe "chance of rain". We also had observed that the weather seemed to generally be worse in the park than even nearby areas. We thought this could possibly have to do with the enormous mountain range directly south of us containing the tallest mountain in North America.
You've probably heard of car camping, this is what car lunching looks like. We did a lot of that in our travels. This fancy site even included a little counter and stool. Oh and look, it's not raining, strange!
The rain continued to come and go once we got back to the park entrance but it was light compared to our backcountry experience. It was a bit frustrating but when we looked the direction of the park road and our former camp it still looked jsut as socked in.
Oh look, the "Yoda" as our family has started to call it, in all its glory. It's a manual transmission, which I somehow didn't get to learn when I was a youngin. So I learned how to drive stick (finally) on Thrusday, then on Friday I drove 150 miles, alone, to Anchorage to get Allie. That day we drove around Anchorage pciking up last minute gear and food. The highway stuff wasn't so stressful but driving in town was aweful at first. You'll have to ask Allie, but my skill has improved a lot in the last two weeks. I was excited to drive it, becasue it get better gas mileage than anything I have ever driven. Woohoo! Great for long road trips. We had that baby packed to the gills though with all our backpacking gear, rock climbing gear for later, food and a cooler, and extra dry clothes. It's a good thing it was just us two because no one else would have fit. We could have crammed to get one human in, but not any of their gear.
Us and all our gear was pretty wet by the time we put stuff away and jumped into our haven of near driness. We went to bed early and after several long days with little sleep we were able to relax and sleep in. I think we were both hoping that when we woke up, things would look a bit better outside.
But this stuff, suctioning itself to our tent like a parasite, we saw as we driffed off to sleep. We saw blobs of it laying there in all it's polar glory when we woke up in the middle of the night. And we saw it accumulating still, when we woke up at 11am the next day.
As we lay there, making bets on which blob would be the next to lose its cohesion and roll off the side of the tent, we discussed our options and plan of action. It was precipitationg now, had been for at least 20 hours, and looked like it would be for the foreseeable future. This did not come as a complete surprise. The weather report said the first two days of our trip were supposed to have a CHANCE of rain and then it would just be overcast the rest of the week. We set out with the hopes that the report would be correct and maybe it would even be clear long enough to see "the mountain". Using our best cognitive reasoning, we deduced that if it said cahnge of rain for two days and we had had almost constant rain for those two days, that the report was maybe a bit soft. So we assumed that "overcast" really meant "scattered showers" or maybe "chance of rain". We also had observed that the weather seemed to generally be worse in the park than even nearby areas. We thought this could possibly have to do with the enormous mountain range directly south of us containing the tallest mountain in North America.
We also noted that we had one day to cross the road and move at least 8 miles to get into the area we had a permit for. Eight miles isnt' bad if you've got trail, but we didn't. And once we got out that far, if we decided to come back early it would be a looong day back. We couldn't just hike out a mile or so out of view of the road and hike parallel-ish to it in case the weather stayed jsut as nasty or got worse. And they do get snowfall in these parts in August.
As we pondered all of these exciting observations and predictions we realized a few things. One was that all this precipitation would be so much better if it was 25 degrees out and the precip was frozen too. You just stay so much drier and therefore warmer when the stuff is frozen. If it melts that's another story,but as long as it stays frozen, 25 degrees is way better than 50. It makes sense why people are most likely to get hypothermia when it is 50 degrees and rainy. Plus the fact that your average person does not expect to get hypothermia when it is 50 degrees out (or when it is 60 or 70 and then the weather turns).
On the other hand, we were well prepared, it was our only chance to backpack in Denali for who knows how long, and my big trip of the summer. It was also the first opportunity I had had in a long time to to all my own route finding. And I'm not one to be a pansy. I'm not the fastest or the best but the one thing I have always taken pride in since I was a kid was toughing it out. From the 25 kilometer cross country ski race I did with one pole becasue of my broken arm and cast to always picking the longest event in high school track and swimming. It's just my style.
On the other, other hand, by the time we had done all this thinking, and had gone back out in it to make breakfast, it was still raining. Frankly it isn't fun to be out in that crap when you don't have to be.
So we wussed out. We checked the bus schedule and hiked back to the road to conclude our one night backpacking trip. We got to the road and just kept walking along it to stay warm, not knowing exactly when a bus would come by. it was my first hitchhiking experience. Ok I know it's not really hitchhiking, but sorta. This bus wasn't a camper bus, but a regular park tour bus, so we got on with a lot of more mature (read:older) people that didn't look like they had ever put on a bakcpacking pack and seemed to be at a lose for how the heck we got out to were we were or why we would want to. Frankly I was asking myself why I would want to too.
You've probably heard of car camping, this is what car lunching looks like. We did a lot of that in our travels. This fancy site even included a little counter and stool. Oh and look, it's not raining, strange!
The rain continued to come and go once we got back to the park entrance but it was light compared to our backcountry experience. It was a bit frustrating but when we looked the direction of the park road and our former camp it still looked jsut as socked in.
Oh look, the "Yoda" as our family has started to call it, in all its glory. It's a manual transmission, which I somehow didn't get to learn when I was a youngin. So I learned how to drive stick (finally) on Thrusday, then on Friday I drove 150 miles, alone, to Anchorage to get Allie. That day we drove around Anchorage pciking up last minute gear and food. The highway stuff wasn't so stressful but driving in town was aweful at first. You'll have to ask Allie, but my skill has improved a lot in the last two weeks. I was excited to drive it, becasue it get better gas mileage than anything I have ever driven. Woohoo! Great for long road trips. We had that baby packed to the gills though with all our backpacking gear, rock climbing gear for later, food and a cooler, and extra dry clothes. It's a good thing it was just us two because no one else would have fit. We could have crammed to get one human in, but not any of their gear.
The Yoda has a lot of character. Aside from being an '82, it has a CB radio in it, complete with a big huge antenna on the back, a carpet velcroed to the dash (I guess the car came from Arizsona or something and the carpet protects the dash from getting too hot and deforming). When my fam bought the car my brother outfitted it with camo seat covers and steering wheel covers. it also is a bit finicky and won't always go into reverse unless you turn the engine off and then start it again. It's pretty hilarious. All it needs is a gun rack in the back.
The further we got from the park, the better the weather got. Plan B included checking our the schience and visitor center in the park then headin back south to find out if we could go rafting cheaply. Natualy we had to stop at the igloo. Pretty much it doesn't look like they ever completed construction inside but it was a campground and convenience store at one time. Clearly this is an Alaskan classic.
The day after we left the park we headed back to Talkeetna to stay the night at Mike's extra cabin again. As we drove south, I put Alllie on mountain duty. It was her job to watch to see if we could see Denali and if it was a really good view I would pull over. We saw a small white wolf cross the highway at one point. From left to right the moutains above are Mt. Foraker (17,400ft), Mt. Hunter (14,573 ft) and Mt. McKinley/Denali (20,329ft). The Talkeetna river is in the background. We sat around and watched the sun set on the beach listening to some guy play the guitar. This picture was taken at almost midnight.
We had a climbing route guide that we printed off the internet, and a simple road map, as well as some advice from the guys at Alaska Mountaineering and Hiking. We turned off where we thought the routes might be, realized our lowriding Yoda wouldn't be able to join us on the heavily pot-holed approach road (that would have been the perfect time to pull our my 4 wheel drive jeep). So we hiked in two miles or so, the rain started falling hard, then the hail. We did find out from the people in the car that nearly ran us over, that this was not the right road. But we did find out where to go. After 2 more hours driving, the later hour only covering about 3 miles on some crazy dirt road, in pouring rain, we found the trail to the rocks we were looking for. But rock climbing is not only not fun in the rain, it is really not possible. So we cooked up dinner and headed to bead early, hoping that the weather would improve and we could get up early and climb. Well, as luck would have it, it was still raining early in the morning, so we slept later. Mid morning improved some but it the Lord would still drop a few rain drops here and there for good measure. We decided to try and find the routes jsut to check them out, then if the weather got better we still had one more day to try and climb.
After we gave up trying to find the climbing routes, and eager to try out my newly purchased cams, Allie and I found some crappy rock and I taught her what I know about placing trad gear.
We went out for pizza and beer with Jared and some of his friends to a place called Mooses Tooth, named after a famous (among climbers) alpine climb in Alaska. It is a cool place started by two guys from Seattle. For those of you familiar with Bellingham, it is a combination of Boundary Bay brews and "localness", with some of B'hams quirky outdoorsiness, complete with prayer flags and folks with dreads. It almost made me feel like I was home again.
The further we got from the park, the better the weather got. Plan B included checking our the schience and visitor center in the park then headin back south to find out if we could go rafting cheaply. Natualy we had to stop at the igloo. Pretty much it doesn't look like they ever completed construction inside but it was a campground and convenience store at one time. Clearly this is an Alaskan classic.The day after we left the park we headed back to Talkeetna to stay the night at Mike's extra cabin again. As we drove south, I put Alllie on mountain duty. It was her job to watch to see if we could see Denali and if it was a really good view I would pull over. We saw a small white wolf cross the highway at one point. From left to right the moutains above are Mt. Foraker (17,400ft), Mt. Hunter (14,573 ft) and Mt. McKinley/Denali (20,329ft). The Talkeetna river is in the background. We sat around and watched the sun set on the beach listening to some guy play the guitar. This picture was taken at almost midnight.
Turns out the guy with the guitar was a raft guide and he offered to take us out the next day for free. He was guiding and they had room on the trip. We put in on the Chulitna River which then converges with the Susitna River and then the Talkeetna river. It supposedly goes up to class 3 but it is pretty much jsut one or two class 3 waves, if you can call them that. but it was basically a class 2 float trip. Beautiful though! And Jeremy, the guide who moonlights as a beach guitarist, knew a lot about the area and wildlife. The weather was great, and we saw quite a few eagles and several beaver dens. After the trip we got some of the famous baked goods from the Talkeetna roadhouse and ate lunch at Taco Mountain in the sun.
After that we rushed south to take full advantage of the good weather and find some rock climbing near Hatcher Pass.
We had a climbing route guide that we printed off the internet, and a simple road map, as well as some advice from the guys at Alaska Mountaineering and Hiking. We turned off where we thought the routes might be, realized our lowriding Yoda wouldn't be able to join us on the heavily pot-holed approach road (that would have been the perfect time to pull our my 4 wheel drive jeep). So we hiked in two miles or so, the rain started falling hard, then the hail. We did find out from the people in the car that nearly ran us over, that this was not the right road. But we did find out where to go. After 2 more hours driving, the later hour only covering about 3 miles on some crazy dirt road, in pouring rain, we found the trail to the rocks we were looking for. But rock climbing is not only not fun in the rain, it is really not possible. So we cooked up dinner and headed to bead early, hoping that the weather would improve and we could get up early and climb. Well, as luck would have it, it was still raining early in the morning, so we slept later. Mid morning improved some but it the Lord would still drop a few rain drops here and there for good measure. We decided to try and find the routes jsut to check them out, then if the weather got better we still had one more day to try and climb.
Well, ten minutes into the hike it started just pouring again, we hiked on and not long after that it started hailing. Off in the distance we say more of the same and decided to turn back. Since you get wet whitewater rafting anyway, we thought we would try our luck at finding more cheap whitewater since the weather jsut wouldn't cooperate.
To make a long story short, we went back to Anchorage, stayed with my bro for two days, tried to find mroe elusive Alaskan climbing outside of Anchorage with outh any success. We did see two big bull moose though and had a nice, strenuous hike.
After we gave up trying to find the climbing routes, and eager to try out my newly purchased cams, Allie and I found some crappy rock and I taught her what I know about placing trad gear.
We went out for pizza and beer with Jared and some of his friends to a place called Mooses Tooth, named after a famous (among climbers) alpine climb in Alaska. It is a cool place started by two guys from Seattle. For those of you familiar with Bellingham, it is a combination of Boundary Bay brews and "localness", with some of B'hams quirky outdoorsiness, complete with prayer flags and folks with dreads. It almost made me feel like I was home again.
The next day Al and I managed to go rafting on the class 3-4 Matanuska River Lion's Head run which had been recommended to us by several people including Jeremy the raft guide. It boasts 3 miles of continuous rapids. After the beautiful but disapointingly placid trip on the Chulitna, this run was everything I was hoping it would be. Again, when the weather didn't matter, it was fabulous, sunny and almost 80 degrees, the rapids were amazing and we actaully got to paddle instead of sit idly in the guide propelled oar boat. It was super fun. And we got to do it thanks to Jared who found our that the University of Alaska Anchorage outdoor program was doing it. And since it was summer, it didn't matter that we weren't students.
After all this fun and excitement, Allie and I had a mellow second week hanging out at the cabin. We finished all the plumbing for the whole house, got the water running into the bathtub, bathroom and kitchen sink, and got it all set up for when the new hot water heater and washer and dryer arrive. We also went hiking with Martin (the guy I met at the coffee shop) and had dinner with him one day.
I got to see both dad and Jared for the last time until I get back from Austria which was sad. Then Mom, Allie and I left Monday morning. I walked out to the river and realized I think I'm going to miss that place a lot. Probably more than I thought I would. I went there to take a break, release all the continuous stress of so many years of school, my job, and all the things that I love but do too much of. Most anyone who knows me knows that I like doing things, trying new stuff, being with friends, going on trips, but even all that wears me down after a while. When I graduated in June all I wanted was to not be on someone elses schedule for once, not have papers due every week, not have to lie up to so many peoples different expectations, but just be. I wanted to read some books, to learn something new (that I would't be graded on), to sit with God, and be with my family. I did all the things I really wanted to (except go climbing or backpacking :) )and none of the things I didn't want to. I have really gotten used to not being on a schedule. It's great, I love it. But now I'm heading back toward it. At least I've had a break from it and hopefully can go back to it refreshed.
2 comments:
I just about died when I saw that picture of me dumping the water out of my boot. It's hilarious. I forgot you took that picture. :P
Awesome adventures! It's even more awesome when I now have seen at least some of the places you're writing about. It was great to see you. Viel glueck in Oesterreich!
So if you'd like to read my blogs, here they are:
http://megmeg22.livejournal.com/ (general nonsense)
http://lectio-divina.livejournal.com/ (spirituality & discernment)
http://community.seattleu.edu/blogs/theology_and_ministry/default.aspx (blog sponsored by my grad school)
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