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Wrangell - Saint Elias National Park - Part 4 of 4
 
My Best Day Yet - Thanks to the People That I Met
(you have to read all four parts to fully understand the title)
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From Part 3 of 4:
 
A moving black object in these woods can mean only one thing.......
 
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To my relief, it was not a bear but a black dog....followed by 2 hikers.
 
My sense of relief provided an easy conversation starter with the young couple following the dog.
 
I must have mentioned to them that due to my lack of time, I was heading back to McCarthy without having reached my ultimate objective of Root Glacier.
 
As their destination was Root Glacier, they kindly invited me to join them and offered to give me a lift back to McCarthy at the end of the day.
 
That was an offer which I could not refuse with the result that we hiked together and seemed to connect beautifully for the rest of the day. They introduced themselves as Myles and Andrea from Washington and Oregon respectively.
I was glad to be sharing the trail with someone who was knowledgeable about the area and who seemed to enjoy the wonders of nature as much as I do.
 
One thing Myles clarified for me was the enigma of Part 3 where I wrote:
 
I became more and more fascinated with the huge valley to my left which seemed in utter chaos due to the disorderly assemblage of humungous grey gravel piles distributed in the most unusual patterns. It seemed like the by-product of strip mining where the entire terrain had been dug up, processed and then dumped as tailings in a very cavalier manner.

 
Well, he explained, that is Kennicott Glacier.

 
I was the victim of a pre-conceived idea that all glaciers are white from snow or ice. This giant glacier, which filled the valley, was completely covered by a layer of grey gravel left as residue after many years of glacial melting. That's what created the appearance of huge gravel piles.
 
Myles had seen photos, taken many years ago, in which the Kennicott Glacier was still so huge that it blocked the view across the valley from the mill town of Kennecott.
 
In retrospect, I could easily have clarified my own confusion by looking at the map which clearly shows Kennicott Glacier in the valley across from Kennecott. But why would I be looking for a glacier when there is no evidence of ice or snow?
 
Well, like I said on several occasions, I do like the discovery method as opposed to the research method.
 
Both Andrea and Myles exuded a quiet, calm confidence congruent with the knowledge that Myles was a part-time resident of McCarthy. This is still the Alaska where the frontier spirit and individualism that once was prevalent everywhere in this state is very much alive.
 
If I understood correctly, Myles parks his van in McCarthy and then puts his belongings into a wheel barrow and walks two miles to get to his homestead in the wilderness. That takes character and commitment to a life style far removed from the rampant consumerism and quest for convenience so prevalent in urban life today.
 
I couldn't help but raise my favorite topic - bears. Yes, where he lives they are fairly common. The first warning sign is the barking of the dog. That is usually followed by the sound of breaking branches as bears are not too particular as to where they walk. Then there is the actual sighting.
 
He had not experienced any real problems during the bear encounters. It was ironic however that any "weapons" he had against bears were usually not at hand at the time of the bear encounters.
 
When not in the McCarthy area, Myles lives in Seattle and works as a transit system designer.
 
His pilot's license and small aircraft which he occasionally flies from Seattle to McCarthy, certainly piqued my curiosity.
 
The concept of pilotage was also new to me.
 
This is a technique used by non-instrument rated, private pilots planning to fly Visual Flight Rules (VFR). These are rules used by pilots of small, single engine, low speed, low range aircraft who compare symbols on aeronautical charts with surface features on the ground in order to navigate. This means flying at low altitude and using rivers, railway tracks, highways, mountain ranges and other landmarks as a guide to get to the destination. It also implies flying on a relatively clear day for the most fundamental Visual Flight Rule is to "see and avoid".
 
Since poor visibility is the main concern in pilotage, the choice of flight paths is crucial to the success of the journey.
 
A possible route from Alaska to the "Lower 48" is to follow the Inside Passage along the west coast. Due to frequent inclement weather, this route is less suitable for pilotage navigation.
 
Apparently a preferred route is the "Northern Rocky Mountain Trench".
 
It leads south from the BC/Yukon border where it is a continuation of the Tintina Trench coming from the north. The Northern Rocky Mountain Trench is about 25 km wide and is clearly visible from the air as its trough is lined by mountain ridges on both sides.
 
The trench takes the flight path over Williston Lake to McKenzie, BC.
 
From McKenzie, Highway 97, the CN railway tracks and the Fraser River would be landmarks to follow south to Prince George. From there, the Fraser Valley would provide a path to the U.S. border.
 
He also emphasized the importance of the "half way" rule in remote area flying. That is the moment when half the fuel is gone and flying beyond this point means that there is no turning back. This means that critical judgments of distance, time, visibility and particularly meteorological conditions are crucial for the success of the flight.
 
Amazing stuff - I was all ears!
 
However, it did make me glad that later I would only be driving my Volvo along McCarthy Road and points beyond. The irony of course is that statistically, driving a car is undoubtedly ten times more dangerous than flying a small aircraft. However, we generally prefer the familiar which is to be planted on terra firma.
 
A pilot, in my estimation, is a person of extraordinary abilities. One must be among other things: technically inclined, cool under pressure, focused on the task at hand, perceptive to changing conditions, able to think ahead, aware on one's own limitations while not given to fear nor self-doubt..
 
I think that is why so few of us are pilots.
 
Andrea assured me that Myles was an excellent pilot and that she had no problem flying with him. If one has the above characteristics, there is no doubt that flying one's own aircraft is a wonderful thing.
 
How do I know? Apart from the odd erotic dream which I may have, the best dreams are the ones where I have the capacity to fly. It feels 100% real and 100% wonderful. The only bummer is waking up. Come to think of it, I haven't had that kind of dream for a long time - pity!
 
Since meeting Myles and Andrea my photos are no longer overexposed. Before, I would take a photo of mountain scenery and my digital camera would not pick up the patches of blue sky above the mountains. Andrea studied photography and was therefore committed to her SLR camera. Myles has an excellent knowledge of digital cameras as a result of which I became acquainted with the manual settings on my new camera to compensate for certain conditions. My photos have improved since this little adjustment.
 
So in the end, I learned a lot from them but I wonder what they learned from me? Nothing - well that's ok too. Life is like that sometimes.
 
We did create a common bond for the purpose of reaching Root Glacier.
 
From our initial encounter, we must have hiked for another 45 minutes before we arrived at the ice of Root Glacier.
 
This summer I hiked on Canada's best known glacier, Athabasca Glacier, which is part of the huge Columbia Icefield in the Canadian Rockies. It is easily accessible from the Icefields Highway in Jasper National Park, Alberta since the glacier starts only meters from the parking lot. During that hour of hiking I was generally on compacted snow, but not ice. Undoubtedly the ice must start at a higher elevation.
 
The transition at Root Glacier on the other hand, from compacted snow to ice, happens very quickly.
 
The ice of the glacier is hard as rock, relatively smooth, except for the light dusting of debris and gravel. Unlike the Kennicott Glacier which was disguised by a heavy layer of gravel, this glacier was unmistakable in its identity. The lower parts had a grayish tinge due to some gravel debris but the upper parts were white and therefore almost free of gravel. The real thrill was making the transition from gray ice to the beautiful world of white ice.
 
Looking at my photos, it would appear to be a piece of cake to hike the glacier. For the most part, this was not the case.
As we climbed the icy slopes, traction became a problem. We had to choose our route of ascent carefully.
  Falling down on this surface at the higher elevations would be like falling on rough concrete.
 
Getting into a situation of losing traction and starting to slide could have disastrous consequences in view of the occasional deep, gaping crevasses and steep drop offs which loomed like giant cliffs.
 
At one point, as Andrea walked near a major gaping crevasse that plunged deep into the abyss of the glacier, I couldn't help but express a word of warning.
 
Flashing before me was a CTV W5 investigative program I had seen several months earlier.
 
It chronicled the relentless 12 year search for truth by the parents of a young Canadian playing hockey on a European professional team. Just before the start of the hockey season, he had gone snow boarding at one of Austria's major glacier skiing resorts, never to be seen again.
 
The parents were stonewalled by uncooperative Austrian police as well as the operators of the resort who denied that a snow board had been rented under his name. The evidence finally surfaced (literally) on a groomed part of the ski hill 12 years later in the receding snow.
 
Canadian forensic tests were able to establish that he had fallen into a crevice while snow boarding in a groomed part of the glacier. He had somehow managed to climb out of the crevice. Based on the number and type of fractures found on his remains as well on the snowboard, it was concluded that he was then run over by a giant cabin-mounted Snow Cat used to groom the ski hills.
 
This is a story not easily forgotten and the association with the crevasse before us was immediate.
 
We did however have an ace in the hole (excuse the pun) in our exploration of the glacier and that was Myles.
 
With "mountain-goat-like" instincts and agility, he seemed sure footed and precise in his choice of path to get as close to the top of the glacier as time and safety would allow. It was uncanny how quickly he was able to move and in no time he was way ahead of us. Of course, "the bear" seemed to enjoy every minute of this trek and had no problem keeping up.


 
As we climbed higher and higher the scenery became more and more stunning.
 
Vast stretches of softly rounded undulating hills of slick ice sparkled in the afternoon sun. The scene was interspersed with steep icy cliffs and gaping crevasses plunging deep into the heart of the glacier. These were the elements of the magical glacial kingdom upon which we were intruding at our own risk.

 
I was pinching myself as I reflected on my progressively changing circumstances throughout the day which nevertheless brought me to this spectacular place.

 
First I concluded that seeing the rustic hamlet of McCarthy was success enough to turn back from my visit to Wrangell - Saint Elias National Park. Then I decided that seeing the glacier from afar would have to suffice since I did not have enough time to walk the entire distance there and back. Finally, I found my feet firmly planted on this huge ice mass and could witness its superb glacial beauty up close!

 
During the glacial hike, I had the advantage of having my Nordic Walking poles with carbon tips which gave me a better grip on the ice.
 
I was amazed at Andrea who was wearing rubber boots due to blisters caused by her hiking boots. It was difficult at times for her to move around but she never complained nor hesitated showing only quiet determination to reach the highest point.

 
Despite our continuous ascent, we were still quite a way from being "on top" of the glacier.

At a certain moment we came to the realization that we had reached the point of diminishing return. This was the point beyond which we would be stretching our time, capabilities and/or our luck.
 
That's when we decided to start our long trek back to the "ghost town" of Kennecott, far below us in the valley.
 
But first, in a celebratory gesture, we had to relish our achievement and savor the moment by breaking out a round of yogurt and cookies for all (including "the bear").
 
I also had a deep sense of satisfaction and appreciation in having reached this fabulous glacial world near the top of Root Glacier, thanks to my hiking companions.
 
During the descent, I realized that finding a path to go up was easier than coming down due to a different perspective. Paths which appeared evident on the way up disappeared on the way down.
 
Myles did not seem to have the same problem of perspective (not surprising, as he is a pilot) as he guided us safely down with the same agility he showed on the way up.
 
While the beauty of the glacier is unique and exhilarating, there is a feeling of security that one senses upon leaving the glacier and getting back on a normal hiking trail.
 
Along the way, the water running of the creeks was potable just like in the Andes of South America. Unlike the Canadian Rockies where hikers are warned of "beaver fever" which is brought on by drinking unboiled water, no such condition existed in the wilds of Alaska. As I walked through McCarthy, there were signs posted on all creeks not to pollute the water as they were the source of drinking water.
 
During our hike we saw no other hikers which is not likely to occur during the tourist season when frequent shuttles running back and forth between McCarthy and Kennecott would assure a steady stream of visitors.

The last part of our hike again took us through the former mill town of Kennecott. Looking at the 14 story copper processing plant, this time from the north, made it seem even more impressive.

 
During the ride back to McCarthy, I realized that indeed, it really would have been quite a far distance to cover on foot and I would certainly not have arrived before night fall.

We parted ways in front of The New Golden Saloon in McCarthy, the same establishment where Cathy and Mike had exhorted me to walk the distance to Kennecott. It was my hope that this would not be the last time that I would see Myles and Andrea since I had shared such a wonderful afternoon with them.
 
In parting, Myles pointed out the terse cryptic words on the message board of The New Golden Saloon - "Pray for Paul".

 
Paul was a local resident on a wilderness sea plane drop-off who missed his pick up rendezvous.
 
I am reminded of the signs which mark the trails in Alaska showing two persons.
 
Such is the reality or brutality of the wilderness. It may be a play ground but it has certain strict rules that promise dire consequences if ignored. Come to think of it - even following all the rules may not be enough.
 
By now, it was near 18:00 and I still had plans to drive four hours back to Glennallen.. This would put me in a good position to reach my next day's destination which was over 400 km from Glennallen.
 
Fortunately two-thirds of my return trip along McCarthy Road was made with some daylight which allowed me to take some fabulous photos and to see some amazing sights. Among them was a railway classic, the Gilahina Trestle, which spans a wide valley. Given the technology of the times, it was a marvel of engineering which allowed the railway to conquer a very hostile piece of real estate. Also impressive was the 525 foot long Kuskulana Bridge which spans a 238 foot deep gorge. You may have difficulty imagining what a 238 foot drop looks like but it had me taking a second and third look in amazement.
 
The rest of my trip along McCarthy Road, the gravel road built upon the old railway tracks, was again in darkness. The drive this time was a pleasure as I had the beautiful memories of the day swirling all around me, like a warm relaxing whirlpool.
 
The final two landmarks of my return drive on McCarthy Road were the Copper River Bridge and the narrow rock cut just before the town of Chitina.
 
Two days earlier I was feeling apprehension upon entering the park. Now I felt a deep sense of fulfillment at having just experienced my best day in Alaska, thanks to the people that I had met.
 
It was almost as if it was meant to be.
 
First, I had the chance encounter with the couple who told me about Wrangell - Saint Elias at the Highway 16 rest stop shortly after leaving Prince George. Secondly, I was spurred on by the persuasive powers of Cathy and Mike at The New Golden Saloon as they convinced me to make the effort to walk the distance to Kennecott and Root Glacier. Finally there was the opportune encounter with Myles and Andrea which proved to be the icing on the cake as it allowed me to experience Root Glacier up close as well as to share their wonderful company.
 
The feel of the wilderness was quickly cast aside at Chitina where, attracted by the lights of a pub, I found a large group of people in the middle of a wine tasting session.
 
Just before the Richardson Highway, I managed to stop at Kenny Lake Campground for a quick shower. I was hoping it would help me shake off some of the fatigue I was starting to feel. It was still an hour of driving to Glennallen and the last half hour I had to open the sun roof for some cold refreshing air to keep from falling asleep. It had been a long eventful day.
 
Sleep, yes it is necessary. Nevertheless, I was hoping it would go quickly as I had an exciting destination in mind for the next day.
 
That was the problem here in Alaska. Sleep gets in the way of seeing the maximum of this beautiful state. Every day I went to sleep in anticipation of beautiful things to see the next day. Tomorrow will be no different.........
 
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