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...

Alaska! Man: 0, Wild: 1

I was always aware of the possibility that my multiple day trip alone in the Alaska wilderness might end prematurely with me saying "ENOUGH!" and heading back.

There are, of course, worse ways it could have ended. I could have sprained my ankle (almost happened at least once), fallen off a mountain (almost happened a few times), got struck by lightning (don't know how close I came to that, but I did get caught in a thunderstorm), died of hypothermia (could have happened if I weren't closer to my car when the storm hit), drowned in a river, been trampled by moose or caribou, or eaten by bears or wolves (while possible, I did not come close to the latter three to my knowledge.)

The story begins on the Dalton Highway. Also known as the Haul Road, this route begins about 50 miles north of Fairbanks and stretches over 400 miles to the very top of Alaska, ending at the Prudhoe Bay oil fields in the Arctic Ocean. It is largely unpaved, and there are few service stops along the way. It is also windy and hilly, and features narrow, uneven, muddy patches alongside sheer cliffs without guardrails, to which you must come as close as possible if an oncoming truck approaches.

The highway is primarily used by trucks, and was featured on a season of Ice Road Truckers, which I must now go back and watch!

Despite its industrial use, the Haul Road does have several touristy spots. There are many marked scenic pullouts and other such landmarks, such as Finger Mountain:

The Arctic Circle:

Grayling Lake (there's a moose swimming in it!):

Sukakpak Mountain:

and Atigun Pass. I wish I had better pictures of this, but most of Atigun was two handed, white knuckle driving:

(When I first read about Atigun Pass a few years ago, the paranoid right-winger in me thought it said "Anti-gun Pass." There's definitely no Anti-gun pass in Alaska.)

My trek into the Arctic Wilderness began in north side of the Brooks Range, a few miles north of Atigun. My plan, brilliantly conceived through studying topo maps and reading up on Alaska hiking forums, was to hike up to the Continental Divide and then down to Oolah Pass in the Gates of the Arctic National Park. If I were making good time and were feeling ambitious, I could continue west to the Itkillik River valley to a dot conveniently marked on my topo map as "Cabin." I wonder what is there?

TO BE CONTINUED... (but I will be in Denali tomorrow and probably won't have wi-fi for several more days.)

How many miles to Alaska?

Apparently, 4501, if I were driving to Fairbanks, which I'm not.

Next update from AK.

Fish. Muir Woods, ice cream, and Napa

Made it to San Fran after surviving an uneventful, if somewhat turbulent, 6:00 AM flight out of Boston. After lunch at Fish in Sausalito, went for a 3.6 mile hike in the Muir Woods, north of San Fran. Alice took more pics than I did, but here's one for now:

and the bridge on the way back to San Fran:

We spent way too much time trying to find Ghiradelli Square to get ice cream (GPS had us going to the Ghiradelli store in downtown SF, not to the square near the wharf) then met up with Stephen and Elizabeth and made it to Napa.

Today is vineyard day, and it's supposed to get to 97 degrees.