Heading up toward the flats at 6:30 in the morning, and looking forward to enjoying that little bit of blue that was visible overhead. That's Wrangell in the background.
It didn't take much convincing to coax Bob into repeating one of my personal favorite hikes. Stikine to Popoff Glacier and beyond. Merlin Sabo and I had done this as part of a goat hunt back in August 2007. The only bad part of the hike is the fight through about a quarter mile of dense alder. Due to the early season the new alder growth was minimal and the leaves weren't complete out so we could actually see where we were going! This photo was taken after we had busted out of the thick stuff.
Oh yeah, I did bring one little luxury item. What kind of a skier would I be if I avoided the rock strewn icy avalanche chute? It may not have been snow now, but it used to be powdery fluff! Pretty technical skiing on the way down, wouldn't have been hard except for the fact that I want to use my skis again next year.
Looking down at the terminus of Popoff Glacier. Around this time I noticed some movement on the other side of the ridge at the bottom of a large bowl below us. At first I thought it was raven, working a slide, then thought that maybe it was a marmot. Bob, who had the binoculars took a look at it and confirmed it was neither. It ended up being my first wolverine siting in the wild! (and Bob's sixth). We hung out and watched it for a while as it worked the avalanche debris below. Then it loped off to a hole in the snow. A look through the binoculars revealed that it had a burrow with tracks leading in all directions. We kept watching the hole thinking it may emerge but it must have been nap time.
My favorite.
Popoff terminus as seen from the top of the Red Peak.
Hiking down the ridge toward camp after the excursion to Red Peak.
Lower Stikine River. I think this one may have to find a deserving wall.
Threatening storm clouds obscured the sky in the evening and we decided we better find an appropriate shelter. Neither of us brought a tent but Bob had a tarp and I had a bivy sack. We found a really nice covered space under a rock ledge where we could hang up the tarp. But never being one to sleep under shelter unless forced to by mosquitoes I decided to sleep on top of the ridge and Bob joined me nearby. A little rain fell but it wasn't bad. There was a beautiful sunrise the next morning - at least that's what the ptarmigan said when he me woke up. The view upriver a few hours after sunrise wasn't half bad.
Doesn't look like much but this is my super-cool ski shelter. The beauty of the thing is that I don't have to bring any extra gear to make it! The ski pole straps fit nicely around the ski tips and create a stable quadpod. The rain jacket get's partially zipped up and the arms are tied around the skis which directs water away from my face and onto the waterproof bivy and then to the ground. Since I was pretty warm at times during the night I had my shoulders out of my bivy sack while it was raining but didn't have to worry about the water.
The sun burned through the thin stratus clouds and would periodically warm us and then the cooler coastal fog would envelop us in an ever repeating pattern. While we were lounging around we saw a goat appear just a couple hundred yards away from us. Observing it for a while we decided she was a nanny and about a half hour later two more goats appeared with it. Another nanny and a very young kid. We watched them for a while before the fog came back. Since we still had a little more time before we needed to head down the mountain, we decided to see if we could sneak up a little closer.
We skied/snowshoed to a rock outcrop close to the goats and stealthily moved toward them - as stealthily as you can move with giant squeaky, clunky boots on rock and crunchy snow. The fog obscured our movements but we were again at a disadvantage because finding white goats on the white snow in white fog is not a simple task as we found out. We walked down to where the ridge cliffed out, hoping the fog would lift and we would get a glimpse of the creatures. But it was not to be. The clock was ticking and we didn't want to miss our tide window to zip quickly across the Stikine mud flats so we headed back to the skis and snowshoes.
Sure enough, as we were hiking back we came across fresh tracks. I followed them and they led me to, yup, you guessed it, our skis and snowshoes. It figures. Never did see those gals again.
Hiking down. My fun was about to begin. With my lightweight pack and the skis under my feet I made quick work of the decent. The upper portions of the snow slopes was just barely holding the corn snow. I kept starting sloughs with just about every turn. Fun stuff!
Waiting for Bob a little after getting onto the highway to the river - about a third of the way down and about a minute of skiing.
Back at the boat! The trip down the mountain went quickly.
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