Alaska es muy grande

I imagine this probably looks like a six year old's account of what he did on his summer vacation, but since my Spanish teacher might be reading, here goes:

Alaska es muy grande. Hay osos en Alaska. Ellos comen las plantas. Hace frio y viento en Alaska en julio. Las montanas son altas. Mis pies fueron mojados y frio. Hay muchos mosquitos! Es siempre horas de luz en el verano. Fue muy divertido!

Brooks Range - Epilogue

I have received several questions asking why I cut my wilderness trip short. I thought I had mentioned the reasons in successive posts, but as I often think about what to write long in advance of writing it, I often end up writing something and forgetting that I didn't write something else. Anyway, here they are in case I had not made everything clear.

1. Tundra hiking was a LOT tougher than I expected. When it was level, the terrain choices were bog tundra or rocky riverbeds. The bog tundra sucks your boot into a murky muck up to your ankle-- you expend a lot of extra energy just pumping your legs up and down. The rocky riverbeds are less fatiguing, but harder on the ankles and knees. In both cases, you need to watch almost every step carefully to avoid stepping on something that could cause an ankle sprain. And your feet get wet in both cases; in the bog for obvious reasons, and in the riverbeds because you are constantly crossing through small streams.
2. Some of the non-level parts were extremely steep, and usually covered in what's called talus. Talus is gravelly, sand-like rock that would actually be a pleasure to hike in on a level surface, but when going up hill, you slide down about 3/4 step for each step you take up. This of course means it takes a lot longer to get up a hill, and it makes you more tired and more likely to fall backward, which almost happened several times.
3. Many times I would wonder whether I would be able to safely go down a hill I was in the process of climbing. Many times I would also wonder whether I could continue to climb, because the steepness of the ascent would increase. This combination was stressful.
4. Without better detailed maps, I found myself many times in a situation where I hiked into either a dead end or one where there was otherwise no chance to go in the direction I intended. This would involve backtracking, sometimes for hours, to find a suitable path.
   
5. When I got to the top of the ridge of the Continental Divide, my choices were to turn back or to basically slide down a very long, very steep talus chute. Returning that way may have been impossible.
6. I was time-constrained. With the possibility of not being able to return in the way I arrived, I could not accurately estimate the length of my return trip.
   
7. Rain. More specifically, thunderstorms.
   

Almost all of this stems from a lack of preparation due to a lack of experience. More detailed maps would have helped, as would better (e.g. more waterproof) boots and rain gear. I should have also packed lighter.

With all this said, I still had an amazing time and in the short three days, saw some amazing views. I didn't see as much wildlife as expected, but I got an experience of nature and solitude, and got to feel what it was like to possibly be the only human to walk where I walked in years (if not forever?) I am already thinking about doing it again, but with more preparation and probably some companions. Anyone out there want to go?

Alaska! Man: 0, Wild: 1, Part 5

I awoke to more cold and more rain. I hurriedly packed up my wet tent and, in complete rain gear, started heading back. All was fine for the first few mile or so, until I hit a dead end (a drop off that was too steep to safely climb down, especially when wet) and had to backtrack. I did see this set of antlers, complete with partial spine:

Then, as I was crossing a stream, it started to thunder. Great. From what I remember on how to not get hit by lightning, if you can't find immediate shelter, you're supposed to crouch on the balls of your feet, minimizing both your height and your area of contact with the ground. Doing that in the rain with a heavy pack isn't a whole lot of fun.

Incidentally, the reason you're not supposed to lie prone is in case of electrical current traveling through the ground. If you are on your feet, then ground to ground current can travel up one leg, through your genitals, and down the other leg, rather than going through your heart or nervous system. :/

Not many other pics, as it rained the entire trek back to the car. My rain gear gave out after about three more miles, so I ended up completely drenched when I got there. One thing I hadn't noticed until the next morning was that the upper hills did receive new snow:


And that's it for the Brooks Range. Since I had planned to be there for six days but only stayed for three, I had some time to kill. I visited the village of Wiseman (population 22) on the way South, then decided to continue past Fairbanks and down to Denali. But that's for the next update.

NationalParksVisited += 2;

Alaska! Man: 0, Wild: 1, Part 4

Here's what I saw from the top of the Continental Divide:





And a rainbow! Because it was SNOWING.

And here's a strange little wildflower that was growing in, what seems to me, the most improbable of places, midway up the "extra" mountain I climbed:

I don't know whether these photos do the view justice. As I wrote in my log book, "I need a new adjective." Breathtaking doesn't suffice. I really felt like I was on top of the world. I spent an hour, maybe more, just sitting there and trying to take it all in.

However, as mentioned before, I was having a lot of trouble finding good hiking routes with the available topo maps. Several times already, I had run into impassable areas, forcing me to dejectedly double back, sometimes for some very uncomfortable distances, before finding a route that worked. So not only was I hiking at a greatly reduced speed, the unpredictability of the route kept adding hours to my trek.

So here, at the top of the Continental Divide, I had a decision to make. I could continue down to the other side, venturing into the Gates of the Arctic. Or I could go back. Faced with the overwhelming fatigue from climbing up the Divide, and considering the various times already I almost fell, not to mention the times I caught myself nearly twisting my ankle, I decided that continuing alone was too dangerous.

So I headed back, looking for a better route. As I mentioned, there was precipitation. It wasn't really snow, more like ice pellets. But that's fine, because while it was cold enough for ice, at least I wasn't getting wet!

However, as my altitude decreased, the ice pellets became water pellets. My rain gear was working ok, but it was about time to camp anyway, so I set up my tent, had dinner, and went to bed hoping to wake up to some nicer weather.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Alaska! Man: 0, Wild: 1, Part 3

Where was I? Oh yeah, in the Brooks Range, freezing my toes off.

Fortunately, as the morning wore on, the fog burned off a bit:

When I reached the base of the climb, I turned back to see from whence I came:

After scrambling up to the first plateau (all the while wondering how the heck I was going to ever climb down), I again turned back to see what my progress looked like:

Looming ahead, the Continental Divide (and storm clouds):

For a while now, I had been suspecting that my topo maps were not giving me the full picture, or at least enough picture for me to really plot out intelligent hiking paths. This mountain in front of me looked, on the topo map, like a series of happy concentric ovals that I could hop over and continue merrily along my way. It also was the happiest of the ones in my path, meaning it would be the easiest one to climb over.

Gulp.

I did manage to find a rocky, snowy stream pass which looked like the easiest way to ascend:

Don't look back if you're afraid of heights:

I finally did reach the top, then I dropped my pack on the Continental Divide and scrambled up an even higher peak in hopes of getting the best view. And the best view was got.

But I'll save those pics for the next update.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Alaska! Man: 0, Wild: 1, Part 2

Awesome. I'm in a campground in Denali, and there's wi-fi.

Back to the Brooks Range. Here's what I looked like when I started out:

I'm headed to them thar hills:

First step into what I think is a grassy meadow: SQUISH, up to my ankle. Here's what I look like at that point:

I've read about the bog tundra, and how much a pain in the ass it is to hike across. Can't really be that bad, right? Right. Fortunately, only had to cross about a mile of the stuff before getting to a gravel river bed.

The gravel is tougher on the ankles and knees, but less fatiguing than the squishy bog tundra. Also, it's not really gravel, it's more like lots of big rocks. I had to watch most of my steps carefully to avoid tripping, slipping, etc. (the 60 pound pack was starting to feel really heavy.) Without having even reached any mountains, I was already hiking at maybe half my normal speed. Of course, normally I'm not carrying a 60 pound pack.



About five miles in, I set up camp

Next morning, my feet were numb, it was COLD, and it looked like this:


TO BE CONTINUED...