Hiking and Camping in the Front Range

Over the course of my life, I’ve actually spent about 2% of my nights sleeping outside. Considering that I’ve never been homeless, I think that’s pretty cool. But somehow out of those roughly 200 nights camping, I had never done a solo overnight trip before last weekend.


Not that I consider that a bad thing. In fact, the chance to hang out with friends is one of the best things about camping. But this weekend the stars were aligned just so: Beth was out of town, Chris had movers coming on Friday and wouldn’t have access to his camping gear after that, Louis is trying to finish his masters, Brynn was out of town, the weather forecast looked good and its late enough in the year that an opportunity to get outside shouldn’t be missed. So that’s how I found myself hitting the trail at 2:15 on Friday afternoon after a short day of work, heading for wilds so remote…. so distant…. so…. wild…. that significant portions of the route cannot be seen from my office window and cell phone reception for many parts of the hike is poor-to-moderate.

Originally the plan was to do a loop that hiked around and then back over a ridge behind Wolverine Peak, one of the peaks in the front range of the Chugach, and an excellent hiking destination in its own right (You can click on the map, or any of the pictures, for an enlarged view).

It’s good to know that if discretion is the better part of valor, then I had a trip that was at least 51% valorous, because in the end I didn’t trust the route I would have to take to cross the ridge, especially alone and with a strong wind blowing on the valley floor. Instead, I simply took the same route back that I had taken to hike in.

Overall, it was an excellent trip. That wind I mentioned before kicked up pretty suddenly just after I had set up my tent. Given my setting, I didn’t really have any options for a more sheltered campsite. My tent was buffeted by the winds all night which made for some restless sleep, and it was actually windy enough that lighting my cooking stove was difficult for both dinner and breakfast. But the stove did get lit and I was plenty warm, so I guess in the end it wasn’t too bad at all.

I didn’t really have my phone handy on the first day to take pictures, but on Saturday I kept it out and took a bunch of pictures. I guess that was one good thing about backtracking – I got to take pictures of all the beautiful scenery I had missed the day before!

Here's Bella on day one, making good use of the "load up" command with O'Malley Peak as a backdrop



No more pictures until this one from the morning of day 2. I camped at the far end of this lake (Long Lake), with a good view of the ridge on the left of this picture. The original plan was to hike over the ridge in the morning, but i just didn't like the look of that plan. Wolverine Peak is in the sunshine at the far end of the ridge, just left of the picture's center.

You'd take a picture of a poop this size, too. Glad I didn't run into this guy on the trail, although from the look of things he was more interested in berries than anything else.

Climbing up from Long Lake and looking back on a pretty view.

On day 1 I came down the center of this slope on the way to Long Lake. I guess thats the problem with bushwhacking and following game trails - sometimes the route you take ends up being unexpectedly steep. (Note to my mom: steep enough to risk skinning a knee, not plummeting into an abyss)

Here's where I should have crossed the divide on day 1, and where I did cross on day 2. It was much easier this way.



Bella, sitting at the head of the Williwaw Valley. My eventual route will take me right up the line of the shadow on the right side of the ridge above the lake.



Looking back up at how I came down from the divide on day 2, heading back towards the start. I guess sometimes there's no helping it and you've just gotta do a bit more scrambling than hiking for a few minutes.

Taking a break from the scrambling - out of the wind and enjoying the view...

This view.

Bella enjoyed kibbles instead.

She also enjoyed romping through the tundra.

Looking down the Williwaw Valley, towards Anchorage.

Lots of sheep on the slopes of the valley. There were 14 here (not all are in the frame), but the day before there had been 19. I guess some had wandered off.

Look! Wildlife that's identifiable in a picture, instead of just being specks!

Thats more like it. These white specks are ptarmigan. There were dozens and dozens of them in the Williwaw Valley. Strangely, Bella wasn't interested in them in the slightest, despite the fact that they were roosting on the ground and milling about not far from us making funny little noises, and then would explode into the air as we got within about 20 feet.

Looking back up into the Williwaw Valley. My route went over the lowest point in the ridge in the background.

Bella pauses before the hardest part of our hike - a very steep 600' high scramble over loose rocks as we left the Williwaw Valley and climbed to "The Ballfield," as the high flat area west of O'Malley Peak is known.

Looking back mid-scramble, as I paused to catch my breath.

Up on The Ballfield, looking west over Anchorage.

Back at home, Bella was all tucked up after the hike. You can always tell how tired she is when she lies down, because the more exhausted she gets the farther she pulls up her hind legs. When her front and back paws are touching you know she's done. Maybe this is where the phrase "tuckered out" comes from?

Art War - Update

Here is my sister's clarification of her previous "art." I do appreciate the clarity, although I find the subject matter a bit disturbing.
She promises more art to follow. But don't worry, I'll be ready for it....


....by sitting next to a BARF BUCKET!!!

Tailgate Alaska (Thompson Pass)

Two weekends ago I got sent to Thompson Pass, outside of Valdez, AK, for work. This is about 140 miles from home as the crow flies, but over 300 miles as the car drives, which takes a looooooong time in an RV towing a trailer with a couple of snowmachines. The red star on the map below shows where Thompson Pass is. Thompson Pass is one of the snowiest places in Alaska, if not the world, having recorded almost 1,000" of snow in a single season at the elevation of the pass itself (~2,800') and 62" of snow in a single day, while the surrounding peaks at elevations of 5,000-8,000' receive even greater snowfalls. I was sent there to inspect the site of Tailgate Alaska, which was issued a land use permit by the State of Alaska, and to check in with several other permit holders while I was in the area. I actually got lucky to draw this duty, since the DNR employee who actually issued these permits is currently pregnant and couldn't make the trip herself. Tailgate Alaska is basically the spectator/lodging/commercial component of the World Extreme Ski Championships and the King of the Hill snowboard competition. Even though the competitions themselves were on hiatus during our visit due to low visibility, it was still pretty cool to be there. I got to go on one snowboard tour which was fun despite the low visibility and sun-baked snow, and I also got to play around a bit on a snowmachine (getting myself some "brap! brap!" in the local jargon). Anyway, here are some pictures from the trip:

Thompson Pass, near Valdez, AK, is in the High Chugach, where most of the surrounding peaks are at least 6,000 feet high (and up to 13,000 feet), as opposed to the western part of the range where peaks are generally <6,000 feet and no more than 8,000.

Main street of Tailgate Alaska was a sloppy muddy mess after about noon each day. But thats what rubber boots are for, right?

At Tailgate, there were a number of places like this where you could get yourself a cup of coffee or a snack.

Therre were also places like this, that looked a bit more permanent.

Here I am, staying out of the mud and heading down to inspect the permit at the beer garden.

Beer garden closed. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Taking a break from some of our inspection-related travel.

Snowmachine helmets weigh like 50 pounds. My neck is still tired.

Here is me getting ready to go for a quick tour in the afternoon and looking stupid.

At the top of the tour, the light was flat and it was impossible to see any texture to the terrain. Here I am hoping for the best before starting my descent into a ravine that promised better visibility and a chance for soft snow.

Buckle Up

Technically, Beth and I were part of a car accident this morning. In reality, we were the third car in a two-car collision. But one of the cars was a pickup truck with a toolbox in the bed. When it got hit the toolbox went flying, hit the pavement, cracked open and sent a variety of different sized wrenches and sockets skittering in our direction, several of which may have bounced into our front wheels and bumper. So really, in every sense but the police report, we were not actually in the accident.

We were at an intersection, waiting in the left-turn lane for the light to change. The way the light cycle goes, all the cross-street traffic has a green light, then the cars on the left get a red light so the cars on the right can turn left towards Beth and I, and then the light changes and we get our green light. Well, the light went red for the cars coming from the left and the cars from the right, where there are two left turn lanes, got their green turn arrow. Beth and I always pay attention to this because it’s a really long light but this means that it’s almost our turn. Anyway, a Subaru coming from the left never stopped. Maybe it never even hit the brakes, because the first sign of danger from my perspective wasn’t skidding or screeching tires but a loud crunch. Then my attention was on the debris coming our way, so by the time I looked at the cars themselves they were totally stopped and it was almost like we had happened upon an accident that had already occurred, not like one took place right in front of us.

Anyway, it feels strange that my first reaction wasn’t to check on the drivers but to clear enough space for other cars to get by. I guess I looked at the two drivers in their cars and saw that they were looking around and didn’t seem to be in agony, but I did a 10 second sweep of the lane before it even occurred to me that I should worry about the drivers first. By that time, the driver of the truck (who got hit) was getting out of his vehicle, apparently unhurt. I walked over to the Subaru, where another passer-by was talking to the driver and opened the passenger door to ask if she was okay, which she was, although she was badly shaken. Then the driver of the pickup and I cleared more of his things from the road while Beth called 911 and pulled our car across the intersection to park it as far out of the way as possible. I was only thinking of us as witnesses until the 911 dispatcher told Beth that since our car was hit by debris we were involved in the accident and should stick around.

I waited in our car with Beth until a police officer arrived. It took twenty minutes, which seemed pretty ridiculous for an accident at a busy intersection near downtown right at the beginning of rush hour. At that point Beth and I walked back over, spoke briefly to the officer to tell him why we were even there, and then waited while he rechecked the two drivers. And then waited while he was on the radio. And then waited while he started his paperwork. And waited. And waited. Not very pleasant in 8 degree weather, although it’s been below zero almost every other day for the past couple of weeks. Finally a second officer arrived and eventually he made his way over to us, got our contact information, asked a couple of questions and told us we could go.

So that’s the story of my commute this morning, but here are some random thoughts that go along with it:

• We were driving because Beth was up most of the night last night for work, communicating with a drilling team on the North Slope that’s putting in a new well.
  
• The driver of the pickup was remarkably nice for having been put in such an unpleasant situation. After the initial shock and surprise, during which he may have asked me why I didn’t stop, he was most interested in making sure the other driver was okay and thanking Beth and I for our help.
  
• I’m really glad nobody was seriously hurt, and it’s almost completely for a whole host of selfish reasons, and that makes me feel bad.
  
• I wonder if daylight savings time could be partly to blame for this. When the accident happened the sky was just beginning to pick up shades of blue, but it was definitely still dark out. An hour later it was full daylight and visibility was obviously much better.
  
• Actually, the driver of the Subaru probably needed something other than better lighting. It’s not like she didn’t see a moose at the side of the road until it darted out at the last second. She missed 3-4 stoplights at that one intersection and two lines of cars, that’s 4 lines of headlights, turning in front of her.
  
• No airbags went off. I’m not surprised about the truck since it was hit in the rear wheel and the main impact went into the bed, not the cab. But the Subaru hit the truck head on and had pretty serious damage to its front end. Maybe because the back of the truck was lighter the Subaru was partly spared by spinning the truck? Maybe the driver of the Subaru had disabled her airbags, since she appeared to have a pretty small stature? Maybe she hit the brakes enough that she had already slowed down more than it appeared before she hit the truck?
  
• The police officer wanted to know if Beth and I were wearing seatbelts when the ratchet wrench socket hit our bumper as we travelled at zero miles per hour. We were.
  
• 4 people, 4 seatbelts, zero injuries. Even if you take Beth and I out of that equation, 2-2-0 are pretty good numbers. Buckle up!

Brigit's visit

So my little sis came out to visit a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately the weather to stop its whole "beautiful for weeks on end" act just before she got here, but it still stayed pretty dry the whole time at least. Our main activity was a backpacking trip to the south of Anchorage, where we were greeted at the trailhead by an ominous sign:

But fortunately this was the only bear that we saw.... yes, I'm talking about the tiny dot just above the middle of the picture:



The only animals we saw up close were ducks, ptarmigan, magpies (yes, Brigit, they're a real animal) and some trout. We were staying in a very pretty cabin on the shore of a lake in the mountains, which was all very scenic:





And here's just a couple shots to prove that we were there, too:

Ski train: now with more pictures!

We went with a group of 30-40 people: Team Cheesy Puff! Here's the train down in the valley:

It was really pretty from up high:
And romantic. Ooh la la!

We slid down this hill on our butts. It was probably a 35 degree slope, and there were times when we were going so fast it was a bit scary.

This was definitely a brilliantly executed one-handed handstand, and not an attempted backflip that ended just exactly like it looks like it will.

Really doin' it

Well, I just bought my plane ticket - one way - back to Alaska on January 2. So I guess I'm really making this move. Quite the change of scenery (not to mention climate) from suddenly balmy Boston, but despite some vague nagging worries that something will go wrong I've been really looking forward to this for awhile now. I'm sure I'll have quite a number of adjustments I'll have to make in order to not only be around, but actually live with, my super-awesome girlfriend. I'm sure there will be a lot of times when I miss my friends in Boston, or feel too far from my family. I'm sure I'll get tired of reassuring my mother that life in Alaska does not put me at constant risk of bear attacks, even when doing such mundane activities as taking out the trash or opening a cupboard to get a mug for my morning coffee. But I'm also sure that this is the right thing at the right time, and that when I look back on this decision to move to Alaska I'll know it was the right one.

Job Interview

I just had an interview for a job with ExxonMobil. A couple years ago I would have felt dirty because of that, but these days it doesn't really bother me. Not that I'm looking to work in the oil industry as opposed to working as a professor, or getting a job with the USGS or NOAA or something, but here's why some of the things that might have bothered me before don't now.

1) People hate the oil industry and, by extension, its employees. Its interesting that not liking oil companies dates back pretty much to the beginning of the industry itself. These are huge corporations that make unimaginable amounts of money, and as "Reezy" Freeman puts it "people hate on you when you shinin'." Recently a lot of that hate is over high gas prices, which I find ridiculous. Oil and gas are commodities whose prices reflect demand. We as Americans have chosen to live in a way that demands enormous amounts of these products and now more and more of the world is following suit. The response of oil prices to the recent instability in global markets shows that speculation certainly plays a role in these costs, but putting that aside I heard recently that glodal oil demand was 89 million barrels a day, while production was 86 million barrels a day. Naturally, prices will rise to the point that it discourages the world from using 3 million barrels of oil a day. Unfortunately, there is so much inertia in the system regarding our consumption of oil (for example: homeowners can't decide on a weekly or monthly or even yearly basis to suddenly not live in the suburbs and commute 25 miles each way to work every day. They're stuck with a house in a crappy location for some time and can't just stop driving to work every day. Not to mention that the house itself is probably bigger than they need and thus consumes excess energy.) that it takes a substantial increase in the price of oil to change consumption patterns. Over time prices will come down as people make decisions that allow them to conserve, but at the moment it looks like it costs $68 a barrel to cut consumption by 3 million barrels a day and $68 a barrel is equal to $1.62 a gallon. The last gas station I saw was selling gasoline for about a dollar a gallon more than this, which reflects the total cost of refining the petroleum and transporting it to the station. So the prices make sense. And for the people who say "yeah, but what about when gas was almost $4 a gallon," that was when oil was trading for almost $150 a barrel, or about $3.50 a gallon. So gas was actually being sold for a price much closer to the cost of the raw material then than it is now.

Whew! That was a mouthful. I'll finish this point and get onto the rest of my reasons at some other time.