A Couple More

Played with photoshop a little bit to create these two photos. Bob rappeling off of the face of Shakes Glacier.

Stikine River Trip

Wow, It has been a couple months since we actually went on the trip, yet when I typed the title of this post my body started to pulse with excitement. The experience and the memories of it will always be with me.

Okay, enough of that boring writing stuff, let's get with the program here. I've desired to go on a long trip up the Stikine River since shortly after moving here. I've spent time in the mountains on either side of the river but it was always too short (maximum four days). I wanted to do something longer. Something that required a little endurance and skill. I was thinking it would be a spring or summer trip where I would roam the ridges. Last year a trio of friends Bob, Steven, and Scott invited me to ski down from Telegraph to Wrangell with them in Februrary/March. I turned the opportunity down, but not without some serious thoughts. When Bob returned he told me about the trip and his plan for the next year, this year. He wanted to go up river and spend some time up there, at least a couple weeks doing some skiing, ski mountaineering, ski traversing... etc. I didn't hear anyting else. He captured my interest at the word "ski."

Bob put some effort into planning the expedition and all I did was tell him what dates I would be available. And then proceeded to change those dates a few times. By the time February rolled around I was starting to get excited. Finally on Valentines Day (Christina had already left for Michigan), we set out.

Here is the story and a few photos.

We hired Eric Yancy and Breakaway Adventures to give us a lift up to the ice near Sergif Island. My friends and co-workers Bob and Matt joined Eric at the float plane dock and packed the boat a little after sunup on a gorgeous day.

A boat full of gear with one more to gentleman to pick up.

Anthony from Petersburg (Yes, we held that against him and reminded him of his town's inferiority for the entire trip) was our fourth member of the team. Bob had to shuttle him via canoe to the boat due to shallow water.

Wind

Matt pulls his sled with gear away from the waters edge and toward a relatively protected area. It was seriously windy. We estimated 40 mph winds in this section of the open river.

If pulling a sled wasn't enough. How about a canoe? Anthony tows a canoe across the snow and ice in true mountaineering fashion.

After repacking our gear and strapping it down we headed toward Pt. Rothsay where we would park the canoe for 16 days while we played up river. Not knowing what those 16 days would bring, we wanted to have some sort of transportation just in case the ice broke up and we had to cross sections of open water. The wind would blow the canoe around and throw Anthony off balance. It looked like quite a struggle. I was glad I didn't volunteer to lug the canoe across the ice.

Self portrait. Note the snow blowing in the wind in the background. Little did we know at that time that "Wind" would become the theme of the trip.

More Wind

Anthony and the sled we dubbed the "Unicorn" heads up river in the bright sunshine.

I stopped for a quick break to get my camera out and take a couple photos at the end of the cutoff slough. We had just gone through about a half mile stretch where there was very little wind and it felt so nice. However, rounding the corner into the main river resulted in a blast of cold wind that was most unwelcome. The wind was even stronger than before.

Every little speck of loose snow had long since blown away. The wind was tremendous. We estimate that we were bucking 50mph winds through the last couple miles of the river. It was unreal. I was very thankful to be wearing goggles and felt sorry for the guys who didn't have their face protected.

After the sun set we had a beautiful pink glow in the sky. The glow slowly rose and a deep blue filled the space underneath it. Soon after stars began to appear and I started to get tired. I kept my feet moving and tried to stay within sight of Bob as the darkness fell. Finally I saw him drop his sled and start walking toward the cabin. What a welcome sight! I stayed by his sled and waited for him to reappear but after waiting a little while in the wind I could stand it no longer and went looking for him. Come to find out he had to look around for the cabin and upon finding it, he discovered that the lock was frozen. So he poured warm water on the lock and was able to get the padlock off. Then as he attempted to open the door it wouldn't budge. So he slammed into it. Still nothing. (Remember 50mph winds, bare hands trying to get the door unlocked, water, and cold) Getting a little more determined he started throwing his body against the door but then noticed that the hinges on the top of the door was starting the show signs of weakness. That could only mean that the door was being blocked by something on the bottom. Getting as low as he could he threw his body against the door with all the force he could muster and after a few attempts the door finally broke open.

Needless to say, Bob was justifiably sore the next day. I still owe him.

When I got to the cabin the door was open but I had to hurry to get some warmer clothes on because I was getting cold way too quickly. My -15F sleeping bag had never felt nicer.

Haul Day

Matt and Anthony try to get warm in the cold cabin. The wind was still howling in the morning and it was sure nice to at least have some shelter.

On the way from the Wilderness Cabin to Shakes Cabin we met with a few guys from USGS. They were responsible for gauging the Stikine River. They would shovel off an area, auger through the ice and then measure the depth of the water. They had several stations where they performed the measurements to create a cross section of the river to eventually calculate the volume of water passing through the river.

Here is the giant dip stick. I believe it was either 20 or 25 feet long. While I was watching they measured a station and discovered that the river was too deep and they were unable to reach the bottom. They didn't have any more extensions, so that meant that they had to pack up, fly back to Juneau, and return another day with a larger dip stick.

Bob and I were heading back toward the Wilderness Cabin to get a second load of gear when we passed Matt and Anthony going in the other direction.

Let the Fun Begin

The crest of a snowy wave.

Our haul day ended with a pretty sunset. It the most colorful sky we had during the entire trip.

Now that the work is over, it is time to have fun! (I'm not so sure my body could distinguish between work and fun.)

The night before I talked about going up to Castle Mountain to catch the early light. Bob said he might join me and by the following morning was ready to go. We left at about 6am and skied the outlet of Shakes Lake where we enjoyed the scenery.

Another shot. It was so nice we decided to ski across the lake and catch some sunshine that would be shining in the valley.

Upper Shakes Lake

Just before this point we came across some wolverine tracks that led to a den. We could see down into it about four feet but couldn't see where it ended.

Had a nice lunch break here and then decided to head up Castle Creek valley toward the mountain.

More wolverine tracks next to Castle Creek.

Bob zips down some snowmobile tracks.

Close Encounter

An awesome sight greeted me when I rounded the corner and this appeared in from of me. It was evident that snow from past avalanches would roar down the mountain sides, cross the creek and climb the other side of the valley for a short distance. The the other side of the mountain would do the same. Then there was that mountain standing about 7000 feet above the valley floor. Impressive.

Bob admires the Castle.

I was snapping pictures and asked Bob to show his enthusiasm for the area and this was it. A little understated - true to his personality.

These photos are a little deceiving. They were all taken with an ultra wide angle lens. The mountain was CLOSE, and it was BIG. The mountain completely dwarfed us as well as these critter tracks in the snow. I couldn't quite figure out what was living here.

Day's End

After getting a portion of the way up the terminal moraine I turned and looked down the valley. I continued up the moraine before putting some ski tracks in the snow. The line I chose was near the top of the moraine so I didn't have to deal with any of the runnels that plagued most of the snow. All-in-all pretty good skiing.

By the time we got back down to the lake it was getting dark but the sun was still shining on castle mountain.

Here is a wider angle. The peak was lovely! I should have set up my tripod but by this time I was getting just a bit tired a sore from the day's journey. After we returned to Wrangell, Bob calculated that we had traveled 22 miles on skis that day. Sounds about right to me. It was an all day ski trip. At this point we were still about 5 miles away from camp.

By the time we got back to camp it was completely dark except for the stars shining in the sky. Even before going back into cabin I set up the camera and and let it fire a number of frames. When I got back in town I stacked the frames and ended up with this.

A day a the tubs

After the previous day the idea of the hot tubs really sounded good. The more we thought about it the better it sounded. I only made it about half way to the tubs before I had to stop and baby my feet for a second time. They were so sore. The thought of soaking them in hot water was incredibly pleasing so I continued on. When I arrived I found the other guys in the tub and their faces showed their enjoyment. I snapped a few photos before jumping in myself. Wow! It felt wonderful. My feet were very happy.

The warm steam met the cold air outside the open door and formed frost on everything it touched. Inside, the screens were covered in ice and there was about and inch of ice on the benches.

Since I was the last one to arrive, I decided I should be the last one to leave as well. I soaked in the tub for a good half hour after all the other guys left and washed a few cloths - that way I felt like I was at least being somewhat productive. As I left I got this nagging feeling that I should put on my telephoto lens but I decided not to because I wanted a few wide angle shots of the trail. Plus, there wasn't much of a chance to see wildlife since the other guys had gone before me.

Sure enough, I saw wildlife. As I skied through an open section in the woods two moose jumped out in front of me. They were only about 50 yards away. I immediately began to switch lenses and by the time I had my telephoto on they had just rounded the corner and were heading away from me through the timber. I skied ahead a little farther hoping to catch a glimpse of them to at least get a photo when another moose appeared on the other side and ran toward a snow covered lake. I followed him and snapped a few photos along the way. He (I think) kept on breaking through the hard snow well past his knees every few steps and it seemed like it was a painfully slow and strenuous way to move about. I decided to leave him be and skied off in another direction.

Death on Shakes Slough

A hearty bowl of oatmeal warms the cold cabin.

A faithful friend passes away. After all that Bob's faithful Atomic ski has gone through (like the 150 mile Telegraph-Wrangell tour last year), they met their maker on a hummocky section of trail as we neared Shakes Lake. Bob was not pleased. We brought three extra ski poles in case one broke but no extra skis.

Examining the damage.

Repair time! I made a suggestion to pull a stay out of Bob's backpack and fastening it in some manner to the ski. Bob had some Gorilla tape that suited the purpose and went to work making the repair. It helped... a little, but there was a problem. The ski didn't want to slide. That wasn't much of a problem as we all skied up to the top of the morane at the edge of Shakes Lake. But it was an entirely different story when Bob attempted to ski down the other side! He came down the other side with the same amount of grace as an airplane trying to fly with one wing or a vehicle on the interstate with a broken tie rod. His problems were compounded by a sled that REALLY wanted to get down to the bottom of the hill. I was very impressed with his ability to stay on his feet all the way down to the lake. It was not a simple task. After trying some other things with the ski, Bob abandoned the idea of skiing and simply walked across the three miles across the lake to our campsite.