Deadhorse

July 29th

The end of the Dalton Highway is Deadhorse and the Prudhoe Bay oil fields.  Miles and miles of mud roads, heavy equipment, mobile drill rigs, storage warehouses, and rugged housing modules; all in support of the 1,100 oil wells grouped in clusters strewn for 70 miles across the tundra.  I am stunned by the extent of the place.  It is a really ugly landscape, but you can't help but admire the audacity of it and my initial depression on seeing it gradually gives way to acceptance.  Small groups of caribou wander between buildings and vehicle storage yards, mostly oblivious to man's rape of their landscape. The weather today is cool and windy, in the 40's. Officially a desert with about 7 inches of precipitation a year, there is still mud everywhere - the ground does not drain due to permafrost below. Road graders prowl the muddy streets, fighting a war with the potholes. Winter conditions are extreme but work continues through the year. We arrive at our accommodations in a utilitarian worker's housing structure and remove our shoes after passing through an airlock mud room. Meals are hardy and the workers are burly and heavily clothed but some wear baby blue boot covers in the hallways instead of removing their boots. We settle in and take advantage of the common toilet, shower and laundry room, although the women wait their turn for the smaller ladies facilities. No keys for the doors but theft is not an issue in such a place; residents have greater worries.

We visit the only store for hundreds of miles - a combination of a huge hardware store and post office, with a general store upstairs. Alicia visits the post office to inquire about shipping a caribou antler she found on a hike behind Galbraith Lake. But the post office lady checks with the airline and confirms it can be carried on if the tips are protected, so she helps with wrapping in pink bubble wrap, and grabs her camera to take a picture of Alicia in front of the store.

The day we arrive happens to be a special day: sunset. The sun has been up continuously during the summer, but today its low arc will dip below the horizon for about 20 minutes. I set my alarm and wake to capture the event and am rewarded only by a soft pink glow through the clouds to the north.

Our last day begins with a bus tour conducted by an informative security contractor who escorts us into areas closed to the public. He tells us that the tandem bike riders that we met in Coldfoot had been on the tour yesterday and we are happy to hear they made it to the end of the road safely.  When we reach the end of the tour at the Arctic Ocean, we gladly participate in the ritual of taking a dip. I have brought my bathing suit, but it is so cold and windy that we all just roll up our pants and wade in, keeping our balance on the gravel in the small surf. Air and water temperature are both about 45,  so the photo session is short but we perform a group chorus line to commemorate the end of the trip. 

North Slope

July 27th

Along the way people told us what to expect as we go further north.  Above the Brooks Range, expect the weather to be different (it is)  and expect more mosquitoes (there are).  Before we leave trees behind for the rest of the trip, we stop to collect firewood to tie to the top of the van. We soon work our way through the pass, deferring to eighteen wheelers who need a  lot of the unpaved road on the turns.  Arriving at Galbraith Lake, a light rain and a bit of wind makes setting up camp a little trying. We are beginning to see the footprint of the oil industry on the North Slope; first in passing Pump Station Four with its industrial buildings and workers housing, then a large gravel quarry used for nonstop highway maintenance during the summer, and finally by the presence of a temporary workers housing at our campsite, complete with 24 hour generator noise. Mosquitoes are much more plentiful here and I spend much of the time in a headnet. The small good news is that they are not very fierce, but I still have a lot of bites. We are north of the last tree and had made a stop along the way to gather firewood to tie to the top of the van. Smoke seems to keep the mosquitoes at bay. After dinner of reindeer sausage,  scalloped potatoes and fresh salad from the Wiseman trapper's garden, the rain settles in for a steady soaking lasting through our next morning's chilly, windy hike up the valley system behind our camp.

Brooks Range

July 25th

The weather is stunningly clear and we fill the daylight hours with activities. We visit the settlement of Wiseman and are toured around by Jack,  one of the year round residents who lives off the land, with garden in summer and hunting in winter.  He is an encyclopedia of history, natural cycles, hunting and survival. He is direct, articulate, and personable - but a bit intimidating; he does not stop talking for two hours.  We eat lunch back in camp and head to Coldfoot truckstop for laundry,  showers,  and dinner.  After dinner we fly to the native village of Anaktuvak, touring the Brooks Range from above -  no road access in northern Alaska except the Dalton Highway.  Returning from a walk at Coldfoot before our 8:00 pm flight, Lisa and I are surprised to meet the man and woman with a tandem bike that we saw twice along the road from Fairbanks.  They have an interesting story,  to say the least.  They started at the tip of South America on a trip to promote awareness of blindness and to encourage persons with disabilities - they are both legally blind, with limited vision.  The rough part: their bike has mechanical difficulties that cannot be repaired here and they have decided to push on by hitching the rest of the way to Prudhoe Bay.  I would be thunderstruck, but they are both upbeat and happy to share their story.

Our pilot lands at the airstrip on time and  we fly 40 minutes to Anaktuvak, the home of the Nunavut people who were the last group of indigenous people in North America to give up their lifestyle and settle in a permanent community.  Oil exploration is a large reason.  We are shown around by Darryl, an articulate young man with a nice manner and large smile. The village is largely modern housing scattered on a side slope of a stunningly beautiful valley that remains a main caribou migration route. We make it back to our camp by 11:00 pm and there is still daylight to burn for a Frisbee game with plastic gold panning plates. 

Hiking on Tundra

July 24th

The Brooks Range is the northernmost extension of the Canadian Rockies and it bends east to west across Alaska above the Arctic Circle. We camp several days on the south slope of the range and will camp several more on the north slope. This morning we wake up in the Marion Creek campground near the Gates to the Arctic National Park.  We are nearly alone in the campground. They are still working on repairing the campground water supply; damaged by frozen pipes last winter.  Daily run back to Coldfoot for our water.  After breakfast we mobilize to climb Midnight Dome, a tundra covered hill north of here. Hiking on tundra is a strange experience.  A spongy mesh of grass, shrubs and moss is continuous up the hill. The ground is not suitable for trails, so we pick our way crosscountry. It is tough walking because it compresses maybe eight inches each step. So climbing is like a stairmaster with vertical progress much reduced.  We trudge maybe two miles and 1,100 vertical feet to a great overlook over the valley and stream below. During the lunch break the weather closes in and a light rain starts.  We head down, stopping to pick blueberries along the way.  Maybe blueberry pancakes in the morning tomorrow. When we get to the bottom, we are pretty wet and ready to get back to camp. 

Dalton Highway and Coldfoot

We pack and leave Manley Hot Springs and make a stop at the town boat ramp on the Tanana River, which is wide but slow moving this time of year.  Steve pulls out a book and asks one of us to read to the group.  As we pull away from the boat ramp,  we hear the story of the Manley Hot Springs Massacre when a drifter on the run from the law brutally murdered six townspeople and one state trooper not to long ago at that spot.  Thanks a lot Steve.

The story is poignant to be because I had taken a hike to the town cemetery yesterday, unaware of this history.  But we saw nothing but good in our visit here.

Steve promises a 'quality van day' and it is. The Dalton Highway heads north, roughly following the Alaska Pipeline which we see much of the way. It is a long drive along the sometime dirt / sometime paved highway with a few construction delays as sections of the road are graded.  We see few vehicles, mostly trucks,  a few cars, two motorcycles, and a couple on a tandem bicycle.  At the Yukon River crossing there is a chance to see the pipeline up close and it is remarkable.  Later we cross the Arctic Circle and photos are mandatory.

Manley Hot Springs

July 22

Heading north from Fairbanks,  we spend two nights camping in the small community of Manley Hot Springs. It has a roadhouse tavern, post office, one room schoolhouse, airstrip, and about 75 residents. The roadhouse has historic lived-in charm but is for sale, and I can't imagine who would buy it. Lisa is brave and trys to order a rum and tonic, with lime (why not ask?)  Sorry, no limes.  Then he returns: sorry, no tonic.  How about a rum and Coke? Then he returns again: sorry, no Coke, Pepsi.  So rum and Pepsi it is.

We visit one of the resident families, the Redingtons,  who are multi generation dog mushers.  They now breed their dogs for sprints of up to 20 miles instead of the endurance Iditarod. We see the working dogs close up, but are only allowed to interact with one litter of puppies who are super cute.  This family has an incredible history, including leading the only group to mush dogs to the top of Mount McKinley.
The hot springs are here too; a five minute walk from our campground and are next to the white log cabin schoolhouse.  There are several concrete tubs in a beautiful lush greenhouse and anyone can book several hours of time in advance. Our party of 10 people breaks down into several compatible groups for the natural bathing experience,  which is wonderful. The only downside is washing off two days worth of insect repellant and offering the mosquitoes nice clean, tenderized flesh.
We are camped on a still waterbody, Manley Slough, which offers a fine canoeing experience on our second day.  Very quiet gliding through still, tea colored water.  We spot a moose and calf on the shore,  but very little other wildlife. 10:30, sun still up and I am off to sleep with my favorite new eysehade.

Denali From Above

Flying from Anchorage to Fairbanks, my Alaska Airlines plane makes a breathtaking approach to Mount McKinley. Most Alaskans respectfully call the mountain by its Native Alaskan name - Denali. The mountain is snow covered and surrounded by snow, ice, and glaciers. More than I could have imagined. We fly at 25,000 feet, and the peak is less than 5,000 feet  below us. Yesterday I learned that my guides Charlie and Kim had made the summit once in two tries, in conditions that were sometimes severe, even in summer. I think they were on the mountain ten days in their successful attempt and only about a thousand climbers make the summit each year. I am super impressed after seeing the mountain.

In Fairbanks now,  and I am repacking one more time to undo my airline security configuration.  Leaving for Manley Hot Springs tomorrow for the start of  nine days without phone or Internet.  

Seward and Lost Lake

Seward is the port at the south end of the Iditarod Trail. Mountains drop to the sea here. On the way here from Girdwood, we stopped off to visit the cabin that Charlie and Kim share with friends as a wilderness skiing base. Sweet log cabin, I think on leased forest service land. Off the grid, off everything, in fact. There are both avid skiers and will put "skins" (now synthetic) on the bottom of their skis to get traction when climbing a mountain to ski down. After a delay from an overturned truck on the busy two lane road, we arrive at Seward in the afternoon and head for dinner overlooking the harbor. Lots of commercial fishing craft,  and many more pleasure craft than I would have imagined.  Fresh halibut on the menu catches my eye.

The next morning we get an early start up the Lost Lake trail, and it should be a gradual climb but it is 2000 feet elevation change and I put on my knee brace on my sometimes funky left knee, just to be sure. It is a stunning hike up to alpine meadows and spectacular views.  The joke is that it looks like Sound of Music landscape, but it is indeed. From the area just above the lake I see back to the sound beyond Seward and on either side up to the surrounding glacier covered mountains. On the way up we see no other hikers, but descending, we run into a number of hikers and mountain bikers and everyone agrees it is a stunning day.

Crow Pass

In anchorage I meet up with the group that will be visiting the Kenai peninsula over the next week. Charlie and Kim are guides living in nearby Girdwood. Gustolvo is a fellow traveler who lives in Rio De Janeiro.  The van is packed and we head east to Girdwood and a trailhead to Crow Pass Trail, a section of the famous Iditarod Trail.  After a quick check of gear and a short bear defense talk (stay together and make noise / bear spray as last resort)  we are ready to start.  We learn that a portion of the trail beyond where we will go is closed due to recent "grizzly activity" - so, food for thought .  I consider wearing my lighter trail shoes instead of big clodhoppers but Charlie recoomends not,  and I follow his recommendation. A short while after we start,  the trail turns rocky and twisting an ankle is a real possibility,  so thank you Charlie.
We climb into the clouds and pretty soon we are totally socked in,  with only sounds to hint at rushing streams and waterfalls beside the trail.  It is a 2000 foot climb in four miles,  but a steady pace gets us to gradual leveling and just then the fog lifts and we see where we are.  Stunning craggy peaks all around us,  and a still alpine lake sits in a small valley, surrounded with snowfields and a rocky meadow. We cross the outflow stream from the lake to a  perfect lunch stop at a small forest service cabin. But after lunch, the cloud lowers and the mountains fade away again. There is not much point in continuing to the pass for the view of the glacier in the neighboring valley, so we start back down the trail. Going back we are on a slightly different route and cross several rocky streams,  rushing with runoff from the snow on the steep slope on our left. We end the day in good spirits. 

Gear Update

As always, I am fine tuning what to bring in the way of technical gear. When we camp, our gear travels with us in a van and REI is making a point to say that space is limited. So, packing tonight, I shoot for getting everything in one soft sided duffel and my day pack for carry-on with the airlines. Bringing the little Olympus "point & shoot" waterproof camera that I liked using in Mexico; no "big camera" this trip. Also the solar panel charger system for cameras, tablet, phone and AA battery pack which all charge from the USB output on the panel. Bringing a small tripod too, maybe to get some long duration time lapse video from our campgrounds. Biggest thing is the tripod, at a compact 14" long.

Compact Little Kit This Time, Just Under 10 Pounds:

• ORGANIZER / CHECKBOOK / TICKET CONFIRMATIONS / NOTEPAD / PEN / PENCIL
• ANDROID GALAXY CELLPHONE
• OLYMPUS TG-1 CAMERA
• 8” ANDROID GALAXY NOTE TABLET 
• SUNPAK TRAVELLITE TRIPOD W/ TREK-TECH BALL HEAD AND MAGNETIC QUICK RELEASE
• MISC. PACK WITH DUCT TAPE, VELCRO TAPE, SUPER GLUE, CLOTHESLINE, CARABINERS, ZIP LOCK BAGS, MAGNIFYING GLASS, WATER PURIFICATION TABS, TWIST TIES, EYEGLASS REPAIR, FLASHLIGHT, KLEENEX, ETC.
• EQUIP. PACK WITH CABLES, SPARE BATTERIES, CHARGERS, ADAPTERS, EXTRA SD CARDS FOR CAMERA, USB THUMB DRIVES, X-MINI TRAVEL SPEAKER, ETC.
• MILOLTA 9x24 COMPACT BINOCULARS
• DRIFT HD GHOST ‘ACTION CAMERA’
• GOAL ZERO NOMAD 7 SOLAR PANEL / GOAL ZERO GUIDE 10 BATTERY CHARGER AND 12 AA BATTERIES

 

(15 + 35 lbs - must be forgetting something - I'll double check in the morning)

Leaving for Alaska Soon

View Alaska in a larger map

I will be off to Alaska soon for two back-to-back hiking trips. South and North. My preparations have included watching episodes of 'Ice Road Truckers', 'Deadliest Catch' and 'Flying Wild Alaska'. I have to say that I am enjoying them quite a bit, in spite of myself. I will be on the Dalton Highway of Ice Road fame (in the summer, thankfully) and flying with Era Alaska once - with the stars of Flying Wild. But there is no way I am getting on a fishing boat. People get hurt on those things. Why is it that Alaska spawns so may reality shows?

The southern part will be hiking on the Kenai Peninsula, ending at Homer. From there I am meeting Lisa in Fairbanks and we go north, camping with an REI hiking group and following the pipeline by van all the way to Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean. Oh, and they said to bring my bathing suit. This should be interesting. 
I am taking off on July 14th.

The State Song of Alaska: 

(I've got to believe the melody is more memorable than the lyrics)

Eight stars of gold on a field of blue
Alaska's flag. May it mean to you
The blue of the sea, the evening sky,
The mountain lakes, and the flow'rs nearby;
The gold of the early sourdough's dreams,
The precious gold of the hills and streams;
The brilliant stars in the northern sky,
The "Bear," the "Dipper," and, shining high,
The great North Star with its steady light,
O'er land and sea a beacon bright.
Alaska's flag to Alaskans dear,
The simple flag of a last frontier.