The Alaska Story - Part 2

Denali
Alaska is a land of indescribable beauty. The mountains rip through the tundra in spectacular fashion climbing into the sky and standing as giant monoliths. During our drive to Cantwell we stopped at a viewing area already crowded with people. Because Denali, or Mt. McKinley if you prefer, creates its own weather it is often impossible to see the peak. If I remember correctly the peak is visible about 20f the time. We were blessed to arrive when the sky was clear and there were no clouds around the peak so we had a tremendous view of the entire mountain. It is a sight to behold.
Denali National Park encompasses over six million acres of wilderness. It is unlike any state or national park I've been to. The only permissible form of transportation is the bus system operated by the park. As with other forms of mass transit, you purchase a pass that allows you to hop on and off the buses wherever you choose. The purpose of the buses is not only for transportation, however. The drivers are ever vigilant, and encourage this from the passengers, looking for wildlife throughout the entire trip. When either the driver or a passenger spots wildlife, the bus stops for photo opportunities as well as some education.
Denali National Park also houses one of the oldest and still active search and rescue dog programs in the country. The park keeps about 30 sled dogs trained for wilderness search and rescue. Coincidentally Dusty is friends with one of the rangers who work with the dogs. Karen and her husband Chuck both work at Denali National Park and were kind enough to open their home for eight backpackers to sleep in after we completed our trek. Karen works with the sled dogs and, during the summer months, demonstrates the dogs' abilities with a modified sled on a dirt track.
We departed on an early bus, at this time only six of us. Nick and Annie were arriving later that day. Our tour of the park was going to be an all day affair and all of us were thrilled with the prospect of seeing grizzly bears. Sure enough, about 45 minutes into the trip the bus driver stopped suddenly and strongly suggested that everyone be very quiet. As the entire bus looked toward the left there was a collective "Oooo, ahhhh" as we saw the mother grizzly with her two cubs lumbering up the hillside. We were perhaps 40 yards away from these magnificent creatures, and the clicks from the cameras were seemingly never-ending. When our grizzly friends had traveled beyond our sight the bus once again rumbled down the dirt road. We would frequently stop and start to take advantage of another wildlife viewing or incredible vista.
The six of us took the bus to the last stop in the park. Here we walked for a short distance to a beautiful spot to eat lunch. After we finished eating we hiked for a while, climbing into the foothills that were bursting with small yellow wildflowers. At the top of a hill we sat on the spongy, soft tundra and watched the sky turn from a soft blue to steely gray. They say in Alaska, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes." Though the day began with sun, the sky quickly filled with clouds obscuring the mighty Denali.
When we were adequately rested we hiked back to the bus stop to begin the trip back. I saw so many wonderful things; it's hard to pick favorites. Among the most incredible was the pack of wolves on the hillside. It appeared that they had just killed a caribou and one large, black wolf remained at the carcass, hungrily snapping up his prize. Wolves are fairly uncommon to see in the park so we felt extremely fortunate to have had the opportunity. We also saw the usual suspects, Dall sheep, caribou, various ground-dwelling creatures, but no moose. I was disappointed because those are supposed to be the easiest animals to see. Aside from that, however, the tour was amazing. What an introduction to the wilderness we would soon be hiking through!
We arrived back at Dusty's house in Cantwell in the late afternoon. Before dinner we went to the trailer park/campground to shower. This was apparently more practical than all six of us trying to take turns in the house shower. We all seemed to linger a bit, knowing that it would be our last shower for a few days. Nick and Annie were arriving shortly and the next morning we were departing for the trek to nowhere.

In Search of Sugarloaf
It was late afternoon by the time we got back to the house, and soon after, Nick and Annie arrived. After the three-hour drive from Anchorage, and after our all-day excursion, all of us were ready for food and adult beverages. The excitement and anticipation of our trek into the wilderness of Alaska had been building all day. Now that the entire party was assembled, everything somehow felt more real. We were really going to do this, huh? We were eight people packing into the middle of nowhere, with the threat of grizzly attacks, with only compasses and topo maps and no trails to follow, to have fun.
We asked Dusty about the route we'd be taking and where we would end up; you know, the logistics. Dusty had reviewed the maps and had more or less chosen a route, but there was clearly no set "plan". The plan was not to be killed by a bear. Apparently that is the biggest concern while hiking in Alaska. It is not something that Husband and I have ever worried about while backpacking. Our one and only encounter with dangerous wild animals was in the form of a hungry raccoon ripping through our tent to steal trail mix.
In time, we were briefed on all the safety concerns as well as the specifics of the hike. Dusty figured we'd be hiking eight miles per day from one point to another. We were going to take three cars total. One would be left in a parking lot near to the place we would eventually hike to. One would be left at the place we were dropped off for Chuck to pick up later. Sue would drive some of us to the drop off point in the third. The goal of our trek was to hike to a ridgeline and follow it until we were very close to Sugarloaf Mountain. Because Mt. Dora’s peak was more visible than Sugarloaf, we would use it to navigate. We would eventually cross over the ridge and follow a drainage down to the highway and to the parking lot where the cars (both of them, thanks to Chuck) would be parked.
Excited about our trip and confident that we had a great plan, we tried to get to sleep early. We'd have to be up early to pack up our gear and find a place to start hiking. When morning came we gathered our things and drove to the elementary school close to Dusty's house. Sue worked at the school, which gave us access to the gym where we'd have room to spread things out and pack them up. The most challenging aspect of packing was trying to fit all the food in the BRC's (or BPC if you prefer) and still leave room in them for anything with a smell. Those stupid vegetables weren't helping either. ("But won't it be great to have fresh veggies with dinner?" My answer, "NO! We're backpacking for the love of God!") Eventually and by some miracle we did get everything packed. As usual, for Husband and I anyway, our packs were nowhere near light. Husband was probably carrying 70 pounds; I was carrying maybe 55, not too bad. With that, we were on our way.
After dropping off one of the cars we drove through the town of Healy and pulled down a gravel road. Dusty was looking for a good place to begin our hike. After driving up, turning around and driving back, he finally found what he was looking for. It was an opening in the foliage with not too steep of a drop into the forest. We said our goodbyes to Sue and started on our way. The sun was out and it was a gorgeous day. It seemed as though it was going to be a great few days.
In Alaska there are very few hiking trails. Even in Denali National Park visitors are encouraged to just hike through the brush. Alaskans view trails as an unnecessary impact on the environment. You're encouraged to hike in a more spread-out fashion, definitely not walking in the typical pack line. After leaving the road and making our way through the small swath of forest we came to an open area covered in gravel. There was a river (or creek if you're from Alaska) called Healy Creek (I still say river) ahead of us and train tracks behind us. Our first challenge was to cross the river. It turned out to be just knee deep on me and I jokingly said "Too easy drill sergeant!" upon crossing it. Nick thought that was pretty funny, I think especially since he is a cop in Concord. We took the opportunity to filter water at Healy Creek since we didn't know when our next chance would be. Husband and I, and Dusty had water filters, but even with two good ones it takes a long time to filter water for eight.
I will say right up front that the hike was much more difficult than I anticipated. Although I hiked as fast as I could, I'm afraid there were times when I was the weakest link. After crossing the river we started our ascent up to the ridge.
Almost every time one of us looked down we saw the evidence of bears. Their paw prints were everywhere. This was both thrilling and terrifying. On the one hand we were in Alaska to see wildlife in a wilderness setting. On the other, we didn't want to die. Remembering the safety tips we'd learned, we made a lot of noise throughout our journey.
The hike up the hill, the very steep hill, was grueling. Keep in mind that you're not walking on dirt or gravel or anything that you're used to hiking on. Tundra was the bane of my existence on that hill. I kept half-hoping that it would swallow me up and deliver me from my misery. Walking through tundra is a lot like walking through snow. It is the texture and feel of moss, though much thicker. And below the tundra are holes that you just sink into. I stand four feet, eleven inches. While negotiating my way up the hill I was sinking up to my knees in some places, grabbing onto whatever branch or brush I could find to pull myself out and keep going. Being the shortest of our group I got the feeling that I was the only one struggling with this particular challenge.
Tundra eventually made way to more solid ground the higher we climbed. After a few hours we stood on top of the ridge, feeling the endorphins pumping through our bodies, and the emptiness in our stomachs. It was time for lunch. We sat on the hillside, the sun smiling upon us, and ate slowly. We were enjoying not only each other's company, but also the complete isolation we were in. There was nothing and no one around for miles. The electric lines we'd passed hours ago were barely visible from our perch on the mountainside. We heard no cars, no people, nothing but the wind rustling in the trees and the birds calling to the wilderness.