Certain Death from Wind, Heights, and Dall Sheep - AKA AK pt. 5

The tiny little specs?  Our competition!

One thing about Captain is his determination.  He is very determined to get to the end goal, no giving up whatsoever, head to the finite point in the distance.  I, on the other hand, like to enjoy the scenery, and would spend hours soaking up the wild if I could.  Captain will not let me however.  We must always go at a brisk pace.  So when I went on a day hike with my friend Lady S, the difference was astounding.  Though very difficult, this hike was enjoyable, breathtaking, and awesome.

The Lady S and moi!

Lady S and I began with the bus ride - we were determined to hike Igloo Mountain, a mountain that goes up to 6,000 feet next to the Teklanika River on the North Side of the road.  We got off the bus, ignored the path to the right, and headed straight up the side.  The willows were packed tight near the bottom, but since the direction we were going was up, we used them to get up the mountain.  Little did we know that we were in the lee of the mountain.  As soon as we got up to the top of the ridge, the wind grew fierce and gusty.  We literally had to crawl, clinging to the bare rock and weak moss up the ridge.  On either side was precipice and we hugged the terrain, thinking of loved ones.  The wind would blow, and we would stoop down in a crouch and wait till it abated.  It stopped suddenly, and we, leaning into the wind, almost fell over the other side.  This occurred repeatedly.  Finally, we got to a point where we could hide in the lee of the wind.

As we sat there, contemplating the view and the wind, Lady S and I agreed fervently that "No way are we going to the top with that wind!"  We took our "summit" pictures, looked across the ravine and saw two fellow travelers, on the other ridge of Igloo Mountain.  They were clinging to bare rock and were about an inch tall from our perspectives.  Seeing them make progress spurred us to try to get to at least the middle of the ridge we were on. We saw a waterfall, which was absolutely beautiful, and about thirty Dall Sheep grazing on the ridge opposite us.

Encouraged by our courageous competition, we kept going up the ridge, on the lee side.  We discovered a bear cave, but did not venture in and saw many little marmots and ground squirrels skittering about.  We had a delicious bagel break at the mid-point.  During this lunch, the food gave us courage and we became determined to climb to the top.  The views were fantastic, Cathedral Mountain was perfectly lit by the sunlight that day, and the views of the wild were breathtaking.  Green, blue and gold, the Teklanika vibrant in her rock bed, the willows waving in the wind, and the distance dimmed into blue horizon.  We could see for miles.  The top was windy, but not too bad, thankfully the wind was broken somewhat by the lesser summit.

We decided to go down to the base of the mountain by way of the ravine in the middle.  It was Lady S's idea, and I agreed because I wanted to check out the waterfall closer up.  We stumbled down the steep ravine, and followed the run, seeing Dall sheep really close up.  We turned a corner and there was the waterfall.  A very literal dead end.  We conferred.  We cast about looking for an exit other than up.  Then, we discovered a pair of awesomeness that Lady S said we should take with us.  So we put ** in the packs, and much more loaded down, we climbed, literally climbed up the cliff face.  Lady S's pack got stuck on a branch, so I had to go down again and unhook her while clinging to cliff face.  We wandered a few yards more, looking for a safer descent, and found one that was just in the realm of possibility.  The rock was shit, crumbled in your hands, and was extremely dangerous.  So I went first.

Find Lady S

I've been in some scary situations.  When I'm in a situation like this (heavy backpack, crumbly rock, certain death below) I focus.  I trust no foothold/handhold, move slowly, and swallow the rising fear.  At one point, my handholds collapsed.  All that kept me from falling was my balance, leaning into the rock that wanted to kill me.  We were pretty high up, at least 30 feet or so.  From the top, we couldn't see the bottom.  It could have been shear.  It was close to it, but still passable.  I finally got to the safe bottom ledge and yelled up at Lady S to start down.  No movement.  I heard her yell faintly that she couldn't do it with her backpack, as a rock the size of my head flew by me.  I put my backpack down, and climbed back up.

Lady S's backpack was a regular school backpack, so there's a lot more horizontal capacity than vertical.  Her balance was destroyed by such a pack.  So I took the bag from her (which contained her very expensive camera) and she went down.  She's shorter than me, so a lot of the footholds were a far reach for her, and it was slow going.  I was saying to myself, no fear no fear nofear....  Then it was my turn again.  With the heavy, unbalanced backpack.  The second time was much worse.  A lot more rock collapsed under my hands.  I froze on several occasions.  I made it down.  Alive. 

Deadly Dall Sheep

We followed the creek back up to the base of the waterfall, and took the necessary photos, then realized we were surrounded by the Dall Sheep.  They were above us, and glaring down on us.  They knocked stones loose towards us, one headed for Lady S, but I blocked it with my leg.  We took one look at them, turned, and headed downstream, where we could wait for the bus in safety.  Our competition, from what we could tell, got off the mountain first.  Shout out to those anonymous ones for encouraging us!

Cathedral Mountain

False Summit - see the wind in my hair?

The Real Summit Pic!

Farthest North by Northwest - AKA AK! series pt. 4

Map of Barrow, Pt. Barrow and surrounding oil reserve.

At the airport in Fairbanks, we boarded the Alaskan Airlines' plane and took off.  We headed north, to 71 degrees latitude.  As we flew over the the low-lying mountains of the Brooks range, the clouds cleared up and we saw the sparkling land of the North Slope.  It was sparkling because every few feet there was another pond or lake.  This is the land of the caribou and it was beautiful from above.  I found out later that we were very lucky to have a clear day - Barrow is the cloudiest city in the US.  As we came in for the landing, we flew over the ice sheets of the Artic Ocean, it was fantastic - so white you couldn't look at it because of the sun.  We landed on the only pavement in Barrow - the place where the first tourists came in the 1950's.

Not lingering at the one-room Will Rogers - Wiley Post airport, we staggered out into the cold.  It was very very cold.  My winter cold.  I was wearing my biggest coat, my mittens, beanie, and scarf and was still freezing.  But we wandered around the city, eventually circling it.  It's pretty small, but it is the biggest in the North Slope borough.  It is not the most beautiful city, in fact, I thought it ugly at first.  It was flat, with dirt roads, broken-down machinery, and rough-looking houses everywhere. As we walked, we realized that the dirt roads and dirt lawns would be covered in snow for 9 months out of the year.  In front of every house was at least one of the following: ATV, truck, boat, snowmobile, and sled.  The houses all stood on posts.  This was not a city of beauty, it was a city designed to withstand the freezing winters and white-outs and dense fog and polar bears.  This place experienced true cold.  This was a city of survival.

I'm cold, they're not. A matter of perspective.

We came upon the beach where we could see the sea ice just a few hundred yards from the shore.  A bunch of little girls around the ages of 7 to 9 were playing in the sand, bare feet and t-shirts.  I felt ridiculous wearing my 5 layers and a big coat plus accessories.  I went up to one and asked "Aren't you cold?"  She looked at me and laughed and said "It's WARM out today!"  Severely diminished in my pride, we wandered until we caught a ride to the Tuzzy Library, where we found a map of Barrow and the point.  We caught a taxi driven by a Korean (how did he end up here?) and were unceremoniously dropped off at the NARL facility.  NARL stands for Naval Artic Research Laboratory, where the Navy used to have a research facility.  The Navy left the property, and so now it is partially owned by the Ilisagvik College.  Anyway, they have a hotel sort-of deal for researchers, scientists, and students (of which we were none) and is the cheapest place in town.  Note:  you don't want to go camping for two reasons, A. the cold, and B. the polar bears.  We passed out despite the ever-present sun.

Captain on Ice

The next day, Kirk got up before me (as always) and went to explore the NARL facility.  He found a guy who repaired ATVs and snowmobiles.  Charlie, the owner, agreed to lend us an ATV once he fixed it, so we arranged to pick it up the next day.  Charlie then dissuaded us from hiking to the Point, the furthest North of the US, telling us tales of the polar bears.  Point Barrow is the dumping ground of the unusable raw meat of whales and seals and such.  It attracts polar bears all the time, so we decided to definitely go there.  Charlie told us of a time when his ATV broke down and he had to walk back to town with a buddy - a polar bear followed them the whole time. Humans are a delicious snack to polar bears.  Anyway, Charlie drove us to the end of the road and back to town - I gazed at the iced ocean the entire time.  Very hypnotizing.  He dropped us off at the post office, where I mailed the necessary post card to the parents and we headed to the center of the excitement, Nalukataq - The Blanket Toss. 

Nalukataq was the primary reason we were in Barrow.  When I was 7 or so, I read the Julie of the Wolves series by Jean Craighead George, which formed a deep impression on me.  It taught me love of wolves, the tundra, deprivation, cold, conservation, and community.  In the second book, Julie has returned to her town, and she participates in the blanket toss.  When Captain and I were looking up places to explore before coming to Alaska, I remembered Barrow and the Blanket Toss.  We went to the gathering in the center of town; they had put up a linen fence to keep the wind down and laid blankets and plastic for people to sit on.  There was a lot of dust, and a lot of people. Many were dressed in the traditional garb, we learned later that the wives of the captains who captured the whales made these garbs for the whole family and the other shipmates.  There were some fantastic ones.

A pic of a pic. An oomiak.

We met up with a couple from the UK, who coincidentally were in the same van ride as us up to Fairbanks.  They were vegetarians, however, so none of the food appealed to them.  But I tasted everything, from Artic goose stew to caribou soup to the heart of the whale.  Whale is the reason for the celebration - they kill Bowhead whales in the spring in small boats made of sealskin (called oomiaks) holding about 7 people.  They have harpoons with bombs on the end of them and brass guns.  I am an animal lover and conservationist and while I was in Japan I refused to try whale meat, but I am not perturbed by the Inupiat killing whales.  They have done this from time immemorial and there never was any problem until the white whalers of the 19th century came along and massacred everything.  Now the Inupiat are only allowed to take six or so whales a year in a relatively humane way using methods from the 19th century - which consist of bomb harpoons and the brass guns.  There is only one company in the world that still manufactures them and it is in New England.  I can only imagine the cost of buying them for the Inupiat.  The whale keeps them alive throughout the year - it is "liquid sunshine" and the only reason that they can stay healthy when the world turns dark.

Nalukataq

So the Nalukataq is a celebration of the Captains who brought home whales.  It is an extremely dangerous job and many people die from the whales tipping their oomiak.  This year, an Inupiat was sitting by the edge of the ice and managed to kill a whale from the edge - that was the most impressive kill of the year.  He did it all by himself.  When they kill a whale from the oomiak, they have to bring it to the ice, where all the people from Barrow come and help drag the whale up and butcher it.Once they have the whale on the ice, they pray to God for thanks, and it is very emotional and poignant.  They prayed during the Nalukataq before dishing out 50 pounds of whale to every single person.  Every crew member has a jacket with their captain's emblem on it.  One said "...And God created the whale." 

Aqavic

So we started eating.  First we had goose stew (which contained the head of the goose in my bowl) and then some caribou soup.  Both were OK.  Then the whale meat (aqavic) came.  First we got a sampling of the parts of the whale - intestines, heart, tongue, whale muscle, and kidney.  I tried everything but the intestines, which looked the most gross.  The heart was super tough and I chewed and chewed until I realized I wasn't going anywhere and then just swallowed it whole.  Apparently it is their chewing gum.  The tongue was the best part of the selection.  The whole time we were freezing, and a kid was constantly kicking up dust near us.  We were sitting near the cut-up bits of tail and it was cool to see the guys cutting it up with what looked kinda like scythes or big knives on the end of a stick.  We tried some of the blubber, after a long struggle of trying to cut it.  A friendly grandmother came up to us and offered us some of her cut blubber and showed us how she used her knife (ulu) to cut up the blubber.  It was tasty and delicious and chewy.  Whale has this very distinctive, kinda greasy taste to it.  After the dessert (cake and such) we went to the gymnasium where they had the traditional dancing, which was super cool and with great drumming.  We caught a ride from a student at the Ilisagvik College back to NARL and explored a little around the college.  There is a football field (funded by a football mom in Florida!) and whenever they win a game they jump into Arctic Ocean!  We passed out with the sun beaming into the windows.

Palm trees...north of the border.

It was foggy and cloudy again the next day and we rented the ATV from Charlie.  It was my first time on an ATV and was fun except that it was soooooo cold. We drove out to the whale graveyard and past it towards Point Barrow, the farthest north in the US.  We saw the dark sand and bright sea ice with a bunch of black trashbags caught in it. Captain and I walked a little out onto the sea ice.  I didn't go far because I was scared, but Captain went a fair way. There are some summer shanties built on the Point, where the people of Barrow come to hunt tons of waterfowl.  They had "palm trees" out front - made of big driftwood and the baleen teeth of the whale posing as fronds.  No polar bears or seals, and we resolved to try again the next day. 

The whale graveyard

We went back to the Nalukataq, which was in its second day, and finally saw some real blanket tossing.  The blanket is pretty big and made of sealskin from the oomiak that caught the first whale.  It is sewn by the wife of captain.  It is tough and hard and there are big ropes attached to it that connect to boards to make it one big spring.  The best jumping lady was smiling the whole time and she looked like a grandmother.  She and many others went really high and one girl hurt her foot when she landed badly.  They would throw candy everywhere when they were at the peak of the jump.  They get over two stories high sometimes!  One kid got launched off of the blanket and almost landed on someone!  I got super nervous and decided against doing it and focused on collecting candy (essentially stealing it from the kids).  We talked to an Inupiat who described the difficulties of whale hunting.  "When I was younger a crew harpooned a baby whale.  Its mother attacked and flipped over the kayak.  My brother was on that boat.  He drowned."

CANDY!!! plus...Nalukataq!!!

After that sobering tale, we left to go back to NARL.  The next day we had ramen and added whale to it which was pretty tasty.  We took another ATV ride, this time to the National Petroleum Reserve and saw tons of birds, including the elusive Snowy Owl (2 of them!) and some Arctic Swans.   Lots of ducks.  They were fantastic and beautiful.  The tundra is made up of very tough grasses and lichen, and is flat as far as the eye could see.  We went to the point again and saw a couple of seals which were very far away chilling on the ice.  No polar bears :(  We returned the ATV and headed to Nalukataq again, where we ate the DELICIOUS miki-yuk, which is...alcoholic with whale in it.  It looked absolutely disgusting but tasted really good.  We then participated in the blanket toss!  You have to have a lot of people help pull the blanket so that the person gets LAUNCHED into the sky.  I made friends with a Whaling Captain, his name was Herman (Melville jokes anyone?) and he threw me up on the blanket.  The advice I got was to not keep my legs stiff and keep my eyes on the horizon.  The original point of the blanket toss was to see what game, like caribou was around in the distance.  Anyway, I was launched super high and completely collapsed like rag doll on return to earth.  They let me go a couple of times but I was not able to maintain standing position, much to my disappointment.  It was still fun and a few minutes later they let Captain try and he did really well, I was very proud.

Herman and his Harpoon.  His wife on right making parka with wolverine trimming.

Then Herman invited us back to his house so he could show us the tools of the trade.  We were so excited.  We went inside his house, which was very warm and cozy and clean, met his twin kids and his wife and sister who were making the traditional fur coats for the crew and family.  He showed us the harpoon and brass gun, both of which are very heavy and unwieldy and showed us his pictures of the whales and his home movies of catching the whales, which were incredible.  He drove us back to NARL and told us a polar bear had been wandering around the area, which got us all excited.  He told a story about how a young man and his pregnant wife were walking home and they noticed a polar bear following them.  The man sacrificed himself so that his wife and the unborn child could survive.  The polar bear is no joke.

The next day we got a free ATV ride and rode to the peninsula again, not seeing much.  The sea ice was gone a few hundred meters to the south...Very scary how fast it left.  We went to Nalukataq again but had to leave early for our plane ride.  Ah well.  We left without seeing any polar bears but with great memories of a strong and friendly culture on the edge of the world, 320 miles north of the Artic Circle.

Have YOU seen this research buoy?

Ukpeagvik: the place to hunt snow owls. Barrow's original name.

Nalukataq

Suffering for Beauty - AKA AK! series Pt.3

Ptarmigan

Captain and I have only truly failed at backpacking on one occasion - the headwater glaciers of the Toklat River - Zone 10.  Even then I got a good picture of a ptarmigan, so not a complete waste!  And since we failed that time, what did we do?  We did it again! ...successfully!
For some reason, setting out on these backpacking trips always catches us off-guard.  We never get more than 4 hours of sleep the night before for some reason or another, and we always get a later bus than we want.  Ah well.  It was mid-June when we set off on our third backpacking adventure, and this one was epic.  Capt, as always, dreamed big - he wanted to hike up the glacier, over the mountain pass and down the other glacier, which connected back up with the Toklat.  It sounded good, and looked fine on the map, so we set off.

First we had to cross the Toklat - three times!  The Toklat River, being a glacier-fed river, is so laden with silt that one cubic liter of the river water contains over a pound of silt.  This is not the clear streams that you imagine when you think of Alaska.  NO fish can live here and you cannot see the bottom.  Not to mention the water is a heart-stopping 36 degrees on a warm day.  The only way to get across?  Get your walking stick, grab your partner in a locked elbows position, and just grin and bear it.  Go slow, walk diagonally with the current and pick your crossing point carefully.  (Make sure your bag straps are unstrapped!) And yes...your shoes will get wet.  And squishy... The worst one was the last of the day.  The water came almost up to my butt, and the current was fast - I almost fell at least four times.

Captain, the Headwaters of the Toklat, and the Ice Waterfall

Then we reached the moraine of the glacier.  The moraine is at the bottom of a glacier - basically the area where all the rocks have collected over the millenia from the glacier's crushing mountain force.  This area is painful, an endless series of up and down loose rocks that really want to twist your ankle.  You can't go fast on this part - it's too dangerous.  We finally reached the part where the Toklat River came from the glacier - its headwaters.  Capt spotted an amazing waterfall across the ice - it was about a mile away. I straight-up refused to go because it would mean crossing the ice and then the river.  No way in Hell was I about to do that. Absolutely not! So he LEFT ME BEHIND!  JERK!  MEANIE!  ...And then I followed him.  He was right (don't tell him I said so!)  It was TOTALLY WORTH THE FREEZING, AGONIZING PAIN!
The waterfall was a towering monolith of ice and water. The ice was so blue and the water made everything sparkle - it formed a mystical aura. The cliff was sheer and the waterfall fell straight down, the ice, still frozen solid, looked like an abstract piece of art.  The water that splashed down the rocks was so clean and clear - it was fantastical.


After a break, we began to climb the moraine, heading for the pass.  Fast-forward through about 3 hours of agonizing up and down on loose scree, me trailing Capt by at least a mile, him with the bear spray and knife, me falling on my face repeatedly, me breaking down AND...then we finally get to the pass.  We stop.  We stare.  The "pass" is covered in snow.  It looks very steep.  And we can't see the end of it from where we were.  It was snowing!  Once again I straight-up refused!  Absolutely not!  No WAY IN HELL were we going up THERE!    No, he didn't leave me behind.  But he very eloquently said he would make it up to me.  So up the pass we went.  I was never good at debating.

The Infamous Pass

Revenge is muddy...

I got my revenge.  As soon as we started up, the ground became deep, sucking mud.  And Capt fell in it!!! Muahahahaha!  Revenge is sweet...  Anyway, up and up we kept going.  It began getting steeper and steeper, with deep piles of snow everywhere we went.  Learning from some climbing experience at Yellowstone, I knew to kick in my toes in the snow and use that as a stepping platform.  Capt was not as graceful, but he was ahead of me and had gloves, so he did a kinda crawl.  We were slipping and sliding everywhere.  Did I mention that it was snowing?  The false summits were demoralizingly painful, but finally, FINALLY, we made it to the top of the pass at about 5-6,000 feet (that's high up in Denali, tree line ends at 3,000 feet).  And we immediately wished that we were back down the glacier. 

The wind screamed, trying to tear us off the mountain.  We huddled behind a rock immediately.  I put on my extra layer - a thick wool Mexican hoodie (shout out to Mom on that one! Saved my life!).  Hypothermia was definitely setting in, the shakes were bad.  We had started hiking at 11 in the morning, stopped only for cereal bar breaks, and were on our last reserves.  We argued about what to do.  Should we make camp? We had to make tea and cook food if we stayed up there.  Should we just keep going or turn back?  We had come too far to turn back - it was actually easier to go forward or camp.  But we had to eat something before continuing.  So, huddled behind a pathetic rock which provided little protection, we desperately tried to turn on my SnowPeak (hahahah) stove.  It wouldn't light.  At ALL.  The wind was too fierce and the gas was too cold.  We learned later that we needed to warm the gas up with our body heat at those temperatures.  We moved on to Plan B - eat the cold little sausages in a can and trail mix.  The wind was so fierce it tore the can lid out of my hands and it flew back down the mountain we had just come up.  I hope that that tin lid will be the last thing that we ever leave in the backcountry.

Staring at what we just accomplished

Seeing how much farther we had to go...

We hastily devoured the cold food (I even drank the juice the sausages came in, disgusting, I know, but I was so hungry) and set off down the other side of the mountain.  There was even more snow there, but the wind abated dramatically as we went down the mountain.  Or should I say, slid down?  It was awesome!  We basically sled down the entire glacier on our feet and butts!  With the energy the food gave us, and the relief of being away from the hideous fearful top, we were having fun in the snow.  We saw some cool things, like where the river would start up and then disappear back into the glacier.  The fog above us was tremendously beautiful.

Homestretch!

It was after one in the morning when we finally stopped and made camp, on good old relatively warm tundra next to the Toklat.  Capt cooked some rice and lentils- the worse job he'd ever done, but we were so hungry and exhausted that I ate it all anyway.  We threw the bear can out of the tent and fell dead asleep.  We had hiked nineteen miles in twelve hours, with only a couple minutes break.

We woke at nine, because we wanted to catch a bus to anywhere early as possible.  We still had the Toklat to cross, a couple times.  But our previous experience taught us tricks, and it was no big deal crossing the river.  At around ten or eleven, we decided to eat breakfast.  We put our bags down, and I went to the river to wash out the pot - about 300 yards away from our bags.  I was sitting there, washing the pot, when I hear Capt yell for me.  I stand up and yell, grumpily, "WHAT, CAPT?!"  He was about 50 yards away from. "****!! THERE'S A BEAR RIGHT THE FUCK THERE!"  He was pointing downstream.  There, less than 100 yards away, was a grizzly bear.  The bear looked at me and I looked at him.  I put the pot down and followed Capt right in front of the bear, towards the bags.  I never turned my back on him.  It was a mutual agreement - let's not start anything, you go your way, I'll go mine.

The Rock behind him?  That's where my pot was.

He wouldn't have gone near me if he'd known I was there, he was trying to avoid Capt - which meant closer to me.  Capt walked in front of a grizzly to stop him.  The bear kept heading upriver, and I grabbed some shots after the fact.  After the adrenaline wore off, we ate headed home, almost losing Capt's binoculars, but I recovered them.  What an exhausting trip, but I'm grateful to Capt - dragging me up to the waterfall, across that ridiculous pass, sliding down a mountain, and saving me from surprising a bear.  Thanks, love.

Suffering for the Beauty of Nature

First Introduction to True Suffering - AKA AK! Pt.2

Savage River

After getting settled at Mile Post 287 at Glitter Gulch, Alaska, Captain and I finally attained that holiest of holies: a weekend!  We determined to start our backpacking adventures once again, this time in Denali National Park.  Denali NP is the third biggest national park in the US, I think it's something like 6 million acres!  It has two typical ecosystems, the taiga and tundra.  More on this later.

The system of getting into Denali National Park is a lot more complicated than for almost all other national parks.  For all the others, you get into your car, buy the ticket, and drive around on the roads, right?  Well in Denali, there is only one road - a steep, dirt/gravel road that only goes halfway (90 miles) into the park.  So you can only go in 15 miles into the park by car, otherwise you have to buy a bus ticket.  Also, if you want to go backpacking, you need your backcountry permit abefore you buy a ticket on the camper bus.  It takes some getting used to.

Anyway, after many travails, we got on the bus to Savage River, which is 15 miles into the park; the rest of the park road wasn't opened yet since it was still May!  My bag was the only one big enough to hold the BEAR CAN OF HEAVINESS.  So I was loaded up with all the food and my bag weighed a ton!  It's close to impossible to be an ultralight backpacker in Denali because you need so many clothes to keep warm and the bear can is so heavy.  Still, we carried a lot less stuff than some people. You don't need to bring all the stuff in your house, people!!  Yes I am talking to you Sarah! 

The ranger had mentioned a wagon trail that followed a ridge.  The thing about Denali is that there are only about 10 trails in the entire park, and two of those are not on the maps.  The park discourages trails because they want to maintain a wilderness - though it makes backpacking and hiking extremely difficult.  So this would be cool if Alaska wasn't a SWAMPLAND WITH ANNOYING BUSHES EVERYWHERE! Because that's what tundra is.  A swampland, with only a foot of thawed soil, and lichen and moss everywhere.  Super comfy to sleep on, except it's always wet.

Squishy, pretty lichen and moss

Let me lay out the scene.  You just left the only road that connects you to civilization.  You seek a ridge, where a "trail" is.  You look for a ridge.  Oh wait, there are 15 streams, lots of  bogs, pit holes filled with water and willow bushes/trees everywhere.  Not to mention mountains and ridges everywhere!! Which one is it?  Every step sinks into the tundra by at least 3 inches, usually more, so you have to lift your very heavy foot 3 inches more with every step.  This is why the Park Rangers recommend sticking to the river beds of gravel.  After zigzagging for about 3 hours, we give up on finding the hidden trail and start sticking to the river.  Pretty much immediately after we give up, we find it!

Harlequin Ducks

So we started following it, heading towards Fang Mountain, a beautiful, jagged peak in the distance.  We wanted to reach the headwaters of Savage River.  But as the trail wound on, big willow trees started becoming the predominant feature of the landscape.  Now, willow bushes/trees are very dense, brushy, aka very annoying to walk through.  And the trail kept disappearing because, by now, it's nothing more than an animal track.

Ptarmigan

But we kept on, finding cool treasures like moose antlers everywhere, BIG wolf tracks, and bunches of animal scat.  We saw a snowshoe hare, which was beautiful and cute!  For the bird lovers out there, we saw ptarmigan and harlequin ducks, both of which had beautiful coloring.

The biggest kick for me was, of course, dinnertime, aka Tuna and Rice (our favorite!).  We passed out after 8 hours of hiking in a pretty valley filled with beaver dams and ponds.

Bear Tracks

We woke up early-ish the next day and started back, following the trail that would disappear and reappear, like all animal tracks.  Suddenly, we looked up and saw three Dall sheep!  They were running across the valley, trying to quickly make it back up into the mountains.  It was only the second time we saw Dall sheep, so we were very excited.  Didn't manage to get any pictures though, because by the time the camera was out, they were halfway across the valley. Not gonna bother posting another picture of three white spots in the distance.

On the return journey, we followed the trail the whole way.  The way back was substantially quicker - 3 hours!  But we saw some big bear tracks, and had to cross the Savage River where it was all iced up and boggy.  We were very careful crossing that part, didn't want to get our feet full of cold ice water!*

Soggy Ice - Still May!

Some lichen, grasses and mosses.

We made it back alive, after capturing a glance of a huge beautiful bull caribou.  Once again, slow on camera and missed the shot, but I enjoyed seeing him nonetheless.  We returned to the comforts of civilization, pleased with ourselves. This was the easiest backpacking trip we would ever go on.  Also, the only one where it didn't rain.

But we began to appreciate the difficulties that people and animals have to deal with in the far north - it's cold, even in May, and all life up here is the toughest thing in the world, except for perhaps desert creatures.  This lichen on the left - one inch represents a century.  Chew on that!

*We got pretty used to walking through ice water by the end of the summer though!

Seward, Alaska - Our First Kayaking Adventure

As we descended into Anchorage, we passed over the Harding Ice Field.  Never have I seen so many snow-capped peaks.  The air was crisp and clean even in Anchorage, and we could see the Alaskan range from the city streets.  I hated Anchorage.

So we left for Seward.  About 200 - 300 miles south of Anchorage, Seward is a small town by the sea - where huge cruise ships come to drop people off starting the day Alaska opens - May 15.  Seriously, in Alaska, nothing is open before May 15 or after September 21st.  Since Captain and I were there May 1st, we were the first customers at the hostel in Seward, Moby Dick (highly recommended!), and struggled to get transportation there from Anchorage.

We were there for the purpose of sea kayaking - to explore the fjords and enormous tidewater glaciers up close and see the sea life.  The only kayaking rental place available at the time was a few miles from town and they denied us the Kenai Fjords National Park.  This was due to the weather, Aialik Bay faces directly into the open Pacific Ocean and the weather is notoriously bad.  This was our first time sea kayaking, and they were taking a risk just letting us go into Resurrection Bay.  We had to do an underwater exit from our kayak, which we did extremely successfully and quickly (the water is a numbing 45 degrees).

Since we were the first customers, they lent us wet suits, wet bags, and a map for free, but it was still expensive for the boat ride and renting the kayaks for a few nights.  We originally thought we were going for only one night, and had only brought enough food for 2 days.  Except for rice.  We had a lot of rice. The boat ride over we saw otters and dolphins.

We were dropped off in Thumb Cove, to be picked up two days later on Fox Island.  The first day was a rare one - perfect cerulean skies, warm sun, ice covered mountains and cold gray sea.  We kayaked the whole cove, taking pictures of purple and pink starfish, seals, and picturesque houses on tiny islands, only accessible by sea plane or boat. I tried fishing for the first time, only for an hour and by kayak.  Not a nibble, but there wasn't much to get apparently.  I'm certainly no expert and I still say I haven't been fishing yet.

That night, instead of camping, we stayed in a cabin that gets rented out - the door was open and we stayed the night.  Reading the cabin's log, we realized that less than a week before a female bear had inhabited the space below the cabin.  I had nightmares.  For dinner, in order to preserve our rations, we had seaweed, Tabasco sauce and rice for dinner.  Kinda bland but pretty salty.  Not bad overall.

The forest there is rainforest - big ole pine trees with lots of moss everywhere.  It's very quiet, only a murmur from boats passing by in the Bay and the dripping of water off the pine needles.  Truly a beautiful place.

The next day we went out of Thumb Cove heading for Sandspit Point State Marine Park on Fox Island.  But we had to get to Humpy Cove first.  The wind was fierce and we paddled with all our strength - it was very tiring and very cold.  We finally made it to Humpy Cove, where the wind abated dramatically, and we ate some ramen to recover our warmth and strength.  We stuck to the coves, checking out the sea caves filled with anemones, starfish, and snails.  One little inlet was the most beautiful of all - a perfect waterfall, a sea cave with sunlight reflecting off the water, and an otter playing in the midst.  It made me want to cry, it was so perfect.  Soul-filling, you see it and you don't need to eat...almost.

Since we were making such good time, Captain and I went past Fox Island towards the open ocean.   We heard there was a sea lion den on the rocks to the south.  But we saw no sea lions, only a really cool arch - Captain wanted to go through, but I was scared of getting stuck, for good reason, and we didn't risk it.

We made it to the Sandspit Point on Fox Island and made camp.  It looked like the moon Endor in the final Star Wars - I kept expecting to see an Ewok hiding behind a tree.  Since Captain was really all about seeing a tidewater glacier, we looked at the map for the nearest one.  It was the Bear Glacier - directly across Resurrection Bay, exposed to open (dangerous) ocean.  We agreed that if it was calm the next morning we would risk it and head for the glacier.

The next day, I woke up hung over due to some whiskey we had the night before.  But the sea was as calm as could be - we headed across the Bay.  It was hard work, but we saw so many bald eagles, one even went fishing in front of us!  We saw a lot of waterfalls, but when we got to where the glacier should be, we realized there was a spit of land separating us.  We went up a tidal river - dragging the kayak at many points, and came across a seal den - there must have been at least 6 seals watching us.  The tidal river opened up into a tidal lake, but was too shallow for the kayak to continue.  Looking at the watch, we decided to head back, doing some whitewater kayaking in a tandem sea kayak.  It was a lot of fun.  On the way back across the bay, we saw humpback whales and porpoises!

We arrived an hour before pickup, cold with all our clothes wet.  It felt like purgatory - uncomfortable and nothing to be done about it.  On the boat ride back, the porpoises played in the wake - they like the vibrations of the boat.  They splashed Captain in the face.  It was excellent.

We went back to Anchorage to be picked up to go to work in Denali.  Loved the adventure, love this world.


*I don't have any pictures yet of our kayaking trip - Captain has them on his waterproof camera!

Puffins Making Puffins in the Seward SeaLife Center!

Wild Wonderful West Virginian MisAdventure

The Beginning of the Dolly Sods Wilderness

 
After 9 months of no backpacking and few adventures besides playing in the mega snowstorms, Captain and I decided to venture into the wilds of West Virginia.  It was spring in the DC area, and we made plans for a three night adventure.

It did not start with the best foot forward.  The night before, we were both working, and got off late.  It was 10 pm before I got a chance to start packing, and we still hadn't gotten any food for the trip.  It had been awhile since we'd gone backpacking, and it took awhile to remember how to pack for it.  At midnight, I realized that I'd left both toilet paper and my sleeping pad at my parent's house, more inconveniently, in my brother's closet.  At two in the morning, I woke up my brother to get the supplies, and went shopping for food at the 24 hour Giant.  I was so exhausted when we started driving the next day.

Captain had written the directions down, and I was in charge of navigation.  The first direction, turn onto 340 West from 270 North was where I failed. I told Captain to keep going on 70.  We ended up in Pennsylvania two hours later.  Angry and feeling retarded (at least, I was), we bought a map and followed it through Virginia and towards W. Virginia.  Because we wanted to start hiking by 3 pm, Captain decided to put pedal to the metal and got a $125 ticket for his troubles. *It ended up being 300 dollars because we went to Alaska and he forgot to pay it...

We finally made it to the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area in Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia at about 5 pm.  As we were unpacking the car, a woman with her Great Dane came by.  She said that the trails were not marked well at all and indicated to us on the map where she "thought" we were.  Her advice screwed us.  Since we assumed the trails weren't marked, we took the first path off the road, which led only to camping grounds.  We thought we lost the trail, but there really was no trail there.  But since it was 6 pm and the sun setting, we set up camp, not more than a mile away from our car.

*Note* I was practicing with the compass the whole time we walked that mile. 

The Wrong Road...But We Took It Anyway

That night, we woke to thunder.  Captain asked me if we should go back to the car, because we didn't put the tent in a good place for rain.  When the thunder was directly overhead, we agreed to go back to the car.  As we were quickly packing up the tent, huge drops of water began to fall.  In two minutes we were soaked through.  We should have stayed in the tent. With the compass, since we couldn't find the path, I led the way - the completely wrong way.  The lightning was terrifying, the thunder suffocating, the raindrops blinding us - I was stumbling on tiny rocks.  After 20 minutes, Captain grabbed the compass from me and realized my stupidity.  He immediately set off in the opposite direction and we found the path and the road and, eventually, the car.  When we got in the car, it stopped raining heavily.  We fitfully fell asleep.

Red Creek Waterfall

When we got up in the morning, we both agreed that yesterday's misadventure was unlucky.  We also determined that we were in the wrong place.  We reversed the car, saw the sign for Red Creek Campground (we were heading for Red Creek Trail), and then parked the car right where it had been sitting.  Little did we know that Red Creek Trail and Red Creek Campground were on opposite ends of the Forest.  :)  So, once again we went up the same road we were on, passed the false trail we took the night before, and, miracles of miracles, found a WELL-MARKED TRAILHEAD!  On the sign, it stated: "WARNING!  UNEXPLODED ARMAMENTS!  DO NOT APPROACH!  Turned out, the Dolly Sods Wilderness was a testing ground for mines and other explosives for the Army, who never cleaned it up.  We took the Wilderness Trail and went through beautiful forest and followed a tall ridge.  We followed another trail to beautiful waterfalls, and finally reached Red Creek, which is really red from the iron content of its bed.

A Snake I Almost Stepped On

We passed so many beautiful and scenic spots, and on the entire trip I almost stepped on at least 3 snakes.  Once again we got lost, or rather, we lost the trail.  We had to climb down a cliff to return to it.  I went down partway first, then Captain passed me the bags. I set his bag down, and it slid right off the cliff! See the picture of the cliff!  I passed Captain my bag, he set it down at the foot of the cliff and it went rolling down the mountain too!  We were both pissed at each other, thinking that the other did it on purpose.  Neither the video camera nor my camera were hurt, fortunately.

The creeks were relatively easy to cross, until the last time we crossed Red Creek.  We crossed barefoot, with a walking stick in one hand and our shoes in another.  When we reached a relatively deep section of the creek, I chucked, first one shoe, then the other to the other side.  Captain said "Hey, that's a good idea!"  And chucked his shoes directly into the water.  Captain turned to me. "Do you remember the Animainiacs?  Remember the skit "Good Idea, Bad Idea?  Your's was the good idea and mine was the bad."

The Dolly Sods Wilderness looks like The Last of the Mohicans

The last night we camped on the edge of a cliff and saw a beautiful sunset.  The scene reminded me of the move "The Last of the Mohicans" with the mountain views.  I love the Alleghenies. The next day we hiked out, completing a leisurely 20 mile hike in 2 and a half days.  An excellent misadventure, except for the monetary pains.

The Dolly Sods Wilderness

Venus, Captain, and the Campfire