Outdoor Adventures

Our lunch time company on the first day included a large, ancient tree, the likes of which I hadn't seen since my family lived in Washington. The tree was at a lunch spot/camp site called Finnegan's Point, 4.8 miles (7.7 km) from the trailhead. It had probably been witness to the Stampeders of Goldrush days and to the Tlingit traders before them. I couldn't resist nestling in its roots for a photo op. We just don't have trees like this in Fairbanks.

Other lunchtime company included five teenage boys; and we quickly realised that, for better or worse, this was likely the group of five with which we would share our camp spots and much of the trail. Camp sites are limited on the trail; and we had heard that not only did we have the same summit day as one other group, but they were starting their hike on the same day as ours. There was the usual early trail awkwardness. We knew it would soon be broken, and we could only hope these boys weren't typical teenagers. Yvette was concerned they might be a church group and felt immediate guilt that they would share the trail with us. She and Ken have both been known to exhibit symptoms of Turrett's Syndrome during especially trying moments... on and off trail. For now, greetings and conversation between the two groups were kept to a minimum, while we sized each other up.

Throughout the afternoon, we continued to experience torturous heat.
I was relatively comfortable in my scant, all-synthetic, quickdry clothing. At least compared to Rocky: he was drenched in cotton, causing Yvette to shriek each time he tried to hug her. I think this romance killing aspect is just one more reason not to wear cotton on the trail (in case its hypothermia inducing properties weren't reason enough).

I caught glimpses of snow capped peaks in the distance and wished for the cooler air of higher altitudes. The mountain streams did provide some relief through the constant availability of cold drinking water; and we took every opportunity to dip our bandanas in the glacial water, cooling off our sweaty heads.

Distant Glacier	Glacially Cold Stream
PA on the Chilkoot	Natural Staircase

I was really tempted to pull over more than once to stick my hot, likely swollen, and definitely aching feet in these babbling brooks. In spite of my stiff-soled mountaineering boots, the rocky sections of the trail were taking a toll. After a rather lengthy section of boulder-sized cobblestone, I called out to Ken:

I didn't move all the way to Alaska so that I could hike in Pennsylvania!

Ken laughed and immediately dubbed this quote of the day. So even though the hike from Finnegan's to our camp site- Canyon City- was only 2.6 miles (4.4 km), we were happy when we turned the corner and saw the shelter beckoning.

I'm stressing how hot it was on this early part of the trail for a reason. Yvette and I were so hot that we had decided we would do whatever was necessary to cool off and get rid of Day One Stink (knowing that there were four more days of Stink to come). So while Ken and Rocky set up the tents, we took our pack towels and washrags down to some overflow of the Taiya River. Yvette and I being... well, Yvette and I... we stripped down and began washing our steamy selves in thirty four degree (1 C) water. I guess Yvette had forgotten her concern for the potentially Christian boys hiking the trail behind us. Suddenly she gasped (and not from the water temperature), "Boys! Boysboysboys!" We covered as much as one can cover with a pack towel and laughed that this incident had occurred before we'd been properly introduced.

The boys politely walked on as though they had seen nothing. It was almost convincing... but not quite. The overflow that Yvette and I had planted ourselves in was directly in front of the trail into camp. But what could we do? On the trail, there were bound to be many more naked moments. So we finished washing, dried off, and headed off to have a good laugh with Ken and Rocky over dinner. A few hours later, with all food and smelly hygiene products safely stowed in a bear bin, we settled in to read and sleep. The sound of a waterfall drowned out all human created noise, and I slept soundly. Day One on the trail had come to an end.

We woke up fairly early, to shower one last time and eat one last meal that didn't start out dehydrated. Yvette and I braided our hair, in the hopes of keeping somewhat clean. The day was hot, so we were immediately thankful for our convertible pants and tanktops. Good thing we'd compared packing lists and made multiple trips to outfitters, or Yvette would have spent the week soaked in sweat. Or more than she needed to be anyway... there was really no escaping the sweat.

We breakfasted at a greasy spoon diner, so I requested a stop at the health food store, You Say Tomato. I marveled that Skagway has a health food store, when their winter population is approximately 800 and the summer seasonal population is less than three thousand; but we don't have one in Fairbanks. I bought liquid ginger, for when I fly in little bitty planes that like to spin upside down, and Knudsen's vegetable juice. I knew it would be a few days before I had anything nearly so fresh. Other than the one orange I would carry in my pack (much to Ken's ultra-light dismay) and eat for lunch because it weighed too much (which shows that there is an ultra-lighter in me, trying to get out).

Rocky drove us to the trailhead in Dyea, where we took the requisite pre-hike pictures with the National Park sign. While we waited for Rocky to park the truck a half mile down the road and walk back, we eavesdropped on the two tour groups that had just hobbled off of buses. They would be walking in with us for almost two miles. We felt like we were on exhibit; and Yvette thought that the tour groups would do well to pay people to hike those first few miles with backpacks each day, pretending to be thru-hikers. People who are paid have time to stop and chat and answer silly questions, which we knew were bound to come.

Examples of silly tourist questions, from our own experience:

1. Why don't they clean the glaciers?
2. How often do you visit the United States? (A: Almost every day.)
3. What kind of currency do you take? (A: Alaskan. The bank is just down the street.)
4. When do they turn the Northern Lights on?

You could have a contest around here in the summer, to see who gets asked the stupidest question. The problem is, we always hear the same questions time and again. (Yes, more than one person has thought that Alaska was its own country; and more often than not, the people who make this mistake are our fellow Americans.)

Upon Rocky's arrival, we started out on the trail and immediately encountered a very steep incline. Approximately a half mile up the trail, we signed the hiker registry (Token, Weggers, Skookum, and Rocky); and I was asked my stupid tourist question for the trip:

Are you guys going to spend the night out there?

There are two possible fun answers:
A1: Nope, I just think it's great fun to haul a thirty-five pound+ pack around on steep slopes.
A2: Yep, but hauling this backpack will all be worth it when we get to the luxury lodge at the top. Didn't they tell you about that? It's five star. You should really complain to your tour company.

Despite being hot, thirsty, and stopped by this group of gawking tourists (some of whom were quite young, so age is not an excuse), I was nice. And I hiked as fast as I could to get past them and the next group. They were moving slow, and the slope was very steep; so I was soon on the quiet trail, listening to the sound of only our foot steps and the Taiya River running nearby. The trail quickly flattened and widened out, and we began to catch our first glimpses of the snowy mountains ahead. I crossed my fingers that the heat would subside as we hiked toward the mountains. This was, after all, the coastal rainforest part of the trail... Skagway and vicinity aren't supposed to be nearly eighty degrees at any time of year! I was happy to know that there would be plenty of fresh water running near the trail on the United States side, and I was even happier to see that we would have sources outside of the silty, glacially fed Taiya. The trail, at least thus far, was surprisingly wet. It was great to have various crossings pre-constructed for us. Our boots would have quickly been soggy without them.

First ZigZag Bridge	What Is It
Beds in Cabin	Angry Ptarmigan

Highlights of the morning included an old, privately-owned cabin; our first artifacts strewn alongside the trail; one very angry ptarmigan hen (I think she had a nest nearby, and she chased us for a good ways along the trail); giant trees (a nice change of pace from the pencil thin spruce and deciduous trees in the Interior); and beautiful wildflowers.



Stay tuned...

So I didn't really have an adventure in Brazil. Despite how things look, I didn't spend a lazy week sunning myself on white sands, next to sparkling blue waters... The nice golden glow and streaks of blonde in my hair are snow glare induced. Ken and I and two neighbors (i.e. Token, Weggers, Skookum, and Rocky) just returned from our Chilkoot Adventure...

We left last Saturday for the drive to Whitehorse, attempting to sleep despite the frost heaves (silly us! how can you sleep when one leg and both arms must be used to brace yourself in your seat, lest you slump to the floor despite wearing your seat belt or bash your head against the window...), and were just in time to find hardly any restaurants open. Not that it was late... I think it was just after 7 pm on a Saturday night. While I longed to dine in the sushi restaurant downtown, or the little Indian restaurant tucked out of the way and on the periphery, Boston Pizza was one of the few places open. So Saturday night at Boston Pizza it was. It's a bitter pill to swallow when you leave Fairbanks only to eat at one of the few restaurants we have in Fairbanks!

Sunday morning somewhat made up for Saturday. We dashed around town to find a good cup of coffee, Tim Horton's donuts to satisfy Rocky's craving, 222s for Ken (who is notorious for breaking bones and not going to the doctor for a variety of reasons, so Canada's OTC policy- and health care system in general- works out well), and the sale at Coast Mountain Sports for those last minute must-haves and really good deals. (Unfortunately, with the exchange rate at nearly 1:1, those really good deals that I remember from a few years ago were a lot harder to find!) And of course, we couldn't leave town without stopping at the Yukon Brewing Company. It's Rocky's favorite, and Yvette and I were curious about a couple of the specialty beers. A taste test was in order, even if it was only 10:30 am, and I had walked in with my morning coffee still in hand! I figured it was ok, since the last beer in the line up was the Midnight Sun Espresso Stout. Just like coffee, no? I like Whitehorse a lot. It's much more cosmopolitain than Fairbanks, despite being less than half the size.

Emerald Lake, on the road to Skagway, was the highlight of our drive!

We had a two and a half hour drive to Skagway and permits yet to buy, so we headed down the road before the morning slipped away. We obtained our permits and listened to warnings about avalanche danger and the necessity of snowshoes, discovered there would only be one other group on the trail at our chosen camp spots, and wandered off to find lunch and drinks. It was a hot day in Skagway, but you wouldn't have known it: a "boat" was in, and the thousands of tourists wandering around town were all wearing jackets and long pants. By "boat" I mean cruise ship, and by cruise ship I mean vessel larger than any building in Skagway. This isn't actually a photo that I took, but it looks right (except it's missing the glaring sun, and the four of us sweating to death with as few clothes on as we could manage). I guess we must have really stuck out from the crowd in our shorts... that and the fact that we were walking in the middle of the road like Ester yokels, as much because that's what we do at home as it was to avoid the crowds... because I was asked for directions more than once.

After lunching, visiting the local outdoor store (the Mountain Shop) to see what was on sale and grab last minute things (notice a theme?), we headed to the hotel lawn to unpack our backpacks and repack our backpacks. As if we wouldn't do enough of that over the next few days... but that's how it is before a trip into the backcountry, long or short. Gear in order, we headed into our sweltering hotel for a fitful but early night of sleep. We knew falling and remaining asleep would be difficult given our state of excitement, but this is what we faced after breakfast the next morning:



Stay tuned for Day 1 on the trail...

On May 6th, we had our second "paddle" of the year, with some friends from work. Frank and Jeanie had a brand new canoe that had only been wet with snow, and it was time to see if it could float. Melissa and Tom proposed a trip down the Delta Clearwater, which is about ninety miles (150 km) from Fairbanks, near Delta Junction. This is a traditional spring migration for Fairbanks paddlers, marking the few weeks between break up and a fully fledged summer.



The Clearwater, which flows into the Tanana River, is spring fed and crystal clear. Rumor has it that it stays open year-round; but I don't know anyone brave enough to float it at 40 below, so this rumor is unverified in my book. But in early May, when the Chena and other rivers still have ice, the Clearwater is ice free. Funny that this was our second paddle of the year, after we paddled through the ice on the Chena. We do love a challenge. We paddled the Clearwater on a cloudy and somewhat drizzly day, but the group was in high spirits. And in true Fairbanksan fashion, we had beer to keep us warm as we floated. The river wasn't swift, but it flowed fast enough that we didn't have to work constantly to stay on track. It made for a fairly lazy paddle much of the way. We didn't see any other boats on the river during the entire twelve mile (19 km), five hour float to Clearwater Lake. We did see plenty of birds, as the area is a stop on their migratory path to the arctic breeding grounds. Among the birds we saw were mallards, green winged teals, lesser yellowlegs, common mergansers, sandhill cranes flying by the dozens, a bald eagle, Bonaparte's gulls, and tundra swans.

Sandhill Cranes	Lone Bald Eagle
Bonaparte's gulls	Driftwood

Slow trips likes this one allow time to enjoy one's surroundings, good conversations, and a cold drink. They also allow preparation for an upriver battle, as Clearwater Lake empties into the Tanana and creates a 1.5 mile (2.5 km) battle through swift and shallow water (followed by another battle through a lake only inches deep, where the submerged land is more like quicksand). Good thing the Lake is the take-out point, as there was more than one wet sock by the end of the trip!

Ken and I	Alaska Range from river
Fur trappers' Historic Cabin	Melissa

I'm not a big fan of off-roading, but sometimes it's a job requirement. So I'm sharing some of the spectacular views from yesterday's trip down to the Healy area. Denali National Park is in the background of most of these photos, but that porcupine is the only wildlife we saw (and many tracks from moose and even a bear!). The Alaska Range is hidden behind the clouds. You can see that spring thaw in the area has not been over for long; although today I wore a tanktop and ate lunch on the deck of the local "golf course", overlooking a lake and the mountains. The golf course also gave atv and covered wagon tours, nevermind that covered wagons were never part of the local scene. That's Alaska for you.

View toward_Denali National Park	The Alaska Range is behind the clouds
Partially frozen creek	Me with Porcy
Soggy Ride	Stuck-ish

Even responsible riding on permafrost can cause a lot of damage. Can you imagine trying to build a road here?