Funnel Creek: 10 Days in the Wilderness

My first ten days in the wilderness on assignment were beyond incredible. Everything....the people I was with, the landscapes, the work, and the wildlife were amazing. Below is a glimpse of what I experienced the past ten days out in the bush.

The first part of the trip consisted of my first ever helicopter ride. A small helicopter ended up having to make two runs in order to get the three members of our crew and all our surveying gear out to the bush. This provided me with the chance to get a great spot against one of the bubble windows. If you have never been on a helicopter before it is something that is rather difficult to describe. All your senses expect the aircraft to function as an airplane....but then it takes off straight upwards.

A few aerial shots I got during our ride. The freedom of the helicopter also allowed the pilot to strafe subalpine meadows, wind through canyons below the ridgeline, and even enter Canada for minute by accident!

The mighty Yukon River winds its way through Yukon Charley Rivers National Preserve with Montauk Bluff in the background.

Cutting through one of the many super steep and rocky drainages I caught this picture. If you look very closely you can spot a Dall sheep ram about halfway down the thin gravel slope in the middle of the photo.

Brian Howard, one of my fellow crew members, and myself were flown out first as our team leader, Fleur, had not arrived in Eagle from Fairbanks via single-prop plane. Brian and I pointed out the saddle between the two ridges on which we had planned to camp and within a minute our pilot had set us down. No taxiing, no waiting to unload, or circling in the air...just going wherever we wanted to. The moment it really hit me that I was out in the Alaskan wilderness was after we had unloaded our gear and the pilot hopped back in the heli and disappeared down the valley.

From only about 50 feet past our campsite there was a nice view of the large drainage in which almost all of our work for the next 10 days would occur. The slope on the right leads up to Nimrod Peak, and the slope on the left leads up to Squaw Mountain. I cannot stress enough how difficult this topography made our work both physically and mentally.

This photo is from about halfway up towards the ridge along Nimrod Peak where we had to put in temperature sensors. The steepness of the slopes (commonly between 40-45 degrees), looseness of the rocks, thickness of brush, heat, mosquitos, and heft of our packs (40-50lbs each) made hiking between plots unbelievable tiring. To reach some plots a mere 500m away it could take over an hour. This made for some very long days where we would hike out at 8 in the morning and return past 9 in the evening.

On a blustery, and particularly exhausting, day I snapped this photo of the Yukon River in the background between thunderheads and sunny skies...typical Alaska.

Fleur and Brian analyze the placement of a soil temperature gauge placed along part of the Squaw Mountain ridge.

A view back along the Squaw ridge. With really only one day exception, the weather the entire trip was magnificent, if not a little warm.

The slopes were dominated by gigantic spires of rock which gave a spectacularly forlorn, yet beautiful, appearance to many of the areas we hiked.

Following the ridge one day down Squaw Mountain we spotted a grizzly bear (brown, mid-left) wander out onto the plateau we had planned on using to reach our next plot. As Brian put it, it was a "wilderness traffic jam" as we stopped for an early lunch and waited for the bear to exit the immediate area. Before doing so though a second bear (black bear, upper right) also emerged and prolonged our continuance down the slope. Once they both had sauntered over to the left margins of the bluff we were able to continue on our way.

The skies at midnight...that's right. Nothing like waking up at 3:30 in the morning to the sun blaring into your tent.

On the way back one evening from work Brian spotted a few morrells which we sauteed up for dinner. Tasty mushrooms with a nutty flavor/aroma, my first time trying them.

Curious bumblebees flitted between flowers almost everywhere we hiked which was a pleasant sight having come up from the lower 48 where their disappearance has lowered the chance of spotting one.

Nameless, hundred foot cliffs would come out of nowhere. Definitely got that feeling of vertigo standing on their edge sometimes. One cliff in particular sticks out in mind, I didn't have my camera with me, but about 10 hours into the work day we were all tired and trying to figure out the best way back to camp (a good 2 hour hike away). We first tried to descend a ridge into the Funnel Creek drainage but a sudden, and dramatic, 300 foot cliff popped out of nowhere and forced us to retrace our steps.

Brian gets a good view of the Harrison Creek watershed and Jones Ridge from a cliff top.

A view towards Harrison Creek.

Fascinating fossils were unbelievably abundant on some slopes. Our last evening we went for a stroll, and on one rock face it seemed as if every pebble, rock, and boulder had at least one fossil.

The last morning as we packed our gear up waiting for the helicopter to arrive around noon I was speaking to Fleur when I noticed movement over her shoulder. I got quite the shock when I realized it was a monstrous grizzly bear that was wandering down a sheep trail directly towards our camp. As we observed the bear, it turned and disappeared down the slope towards the Funnel Creek valley. We thought it was gone...

 About fifteen minutes later however I spotted movement only ~30 yards from camp. The gigantic animal had somehow snuck over the ridge without anyone noticing. We made sure our presence was clear to the bear as it meandered through the thick brush, often only the recognizable grizzly shoulder hump visible above the shrubs. Then it took a sniff of the air and stood on its hind legs to look at us. I froze at that moment, and did not take a picture. But the sensations I felt the instant the grizzly bear stood on its hind legs and looked directly at me can hardly be described in words or photos, but undoubtedly left an impression in my mind. I gathered myself quickly and grabbed this shot as he turned and before he fell back to all fours. Within seconds he had run off to the spruce stand in the background. A truly magnificent encounter, and magical way to end my first 10 day trip to the Yukon.

A Mini Tour of Alaska: Central, Fairbanks, Denali, and Eagle

The past week I have logged quite a lot of miles around the interior of Alaska as our botany crew attempts to stay on schedule. Last week, on Tuesday, we finally pulled out of the NPS Headquarters in Fairbanks heading to the small town of Circle north (it is said that the founders of Circle gave it its name because they thought they had reached the Arctic Circle...turns out they were 50 miles south). Our two crews of three members each drove two big trucks hauling along flat-bottomed motorboats. The plan was to boat ~60 miles up the Yukon River into the Yukon Charley National Preserve to access our botany work plots.

The day was spent travelling in some rather isolated country (above in what we believe are the White Mountains) and ended in the town of Central, AK. Much to our dismay, we were unable to make it to Circle due to a river that had washed out the road only 7 miles short of our destination.

After hours of slow and tiresome driving this is the sign that met us. After using a SAT phone to reach our supervisor back at Fairbanks, we turned right around and made the trek back. Our crew was then shipped back down to Denali National Park (oh, bummer) where continued doing training and practice plots while we waited.

Our view during lunch on one of our training plots near Sanctuary River in Denali. Reaching this point required quite a lot of intense bushwacking through thick dwarf birch shrubs and alder stands. We also passed a grazing moose along the way.

One of our crew members, Eric, "botanizes" during our lunch break.

Due to long travel days combined with drawn out work periods, our last day in Denali we were let out a little early and given the chance to hike the Triple Lakes trail. The trail picks up outside the park near the town of McKinley Village and ends ~8 miles later by the visitors center (one of very few trails in Denali, basically all located in the visitors center area).

The Triple Lakes trail winding its way towards the Alaskan Range.

The first of the three lakes passed had a large beaver lodge on the near bank. No beavers were seen however.

The trail climbed and climbed to the top of the ridge that separated park from non-park land. The three lakes looked majestic far below.

Stands of Quaking Aspen made the hike all the more wonderful.

Brian Howard, a member of my crew, almost walked right into this prickly fellow. By the time I got my camera out he had wandered down away from the trail. The porcupine then proceeded to climb a nearby tree which was amusing as he sauntered about just about as fast and worried as you would expect an animal covered in gigantic quills.

This past Wednesday, back in Fairbanks from Denali, and fueled with lots of coffee, Brian (the seasonal botanist in my crew), Rachel (the other SCA intern, working for the other crew), and myself drove to the town of Eagle. The 8 hour drive was mostly due to the conditions faced on the Taylor "Highway". This road (almost all dirt/gravel) was 160 miles long and dead-ends in Eagle. Usually unable to go more than 30-35 miles an hour, the wonderful scenic views made for a doable trip. Also, we had the privilege of passing such well known metropolises such as Tok and Chicken (rumor has it the town is called Chicken because the miners who founded it didn't know how to spell Ptarmigan). Both of these towns could have been mistaken for a small rural rest stop.

Finally in Eagle, we were given a warm welcome and tour around the area by one of the NPS rangers living there. We drove out to the airfield to learn how to access gas for our rig, and while we were there a archaeology crew flew in from the preserve giving us a little taste of what is to come on Monday.

Dubbed the Hilltop House, our living situation consists of more or less a double-wide trailer, non-potable water, and a non-functioning shower. Not that any of that matters seeing as we will be living in the wilderness in just a few days. On the right is the massive F-350 truck we had to use (we actually filled it) to get to Eagle. Quite the beast.

Our first evening we meandered down to the visitors center and among the aspens along the Yukon River.

The town is beautifully located on the banks of the mighty Yukon on a particularly wide bend. Yukon Charley Rivers National Preserve beckons in the distance.

Eagle Bluff looms over the town and pierces out into the silt laden river.

The small town basks in the late evening sun. Everyone around town recognized us immediately as outsiders and seemed friendly, welcoming us to the area.

Yesterday, after a relaxing morning, we decided to try to climb Eagle Bluff. First we had to cross the uber-cold Mission Creek.

After a very tough climb bushwacking through dense undergrowth of spiny herbaceous plants we popped out on top only to find we had over shot Eagle Bluff by almost twice its height. Whoops, at least we had an awesome place to eat lunch.

The river was like a gigantic living organism...its fast current and rippling silty water made it come alive.

Two resident rams on the bluff seemed surprised to find us...especially as we were above them. Dall Sheep are interesting in that, except for times of mating, the sheep roam the steep slopes in either groups of all males, or groups of all females plus lambs.

Apart from hiking around the area we have been taking advantage of our time off to rest, read John Grisham type novels lying around the house, and attempt to key-out unique plants we find...oh, the life of a botanist.

Today, along the river I was fascinated with these little birds called Bank Swallows. Hundreds of them flit around at supersonic speeds chasing each other and pulling off maneuvers that would surely have made me pass out.

They reminded me of pilots from World War II I read about as a kid, dogfighting each other, always trying to stay in front away from danger, or stay on the tail of the other keeping them in their sights...except this time it was about mating, not killing.

Definitely one of the most fun moments I have had taking photographs. The auto-focus and follow on my camera makes it super entertaining to try to snap quick shots of these guys as they turn, swoop, and zoom every which way.

Disconnected

It has been several days since I have been able to access a computer. And it looks like it will be several more until I will be able to access one again (~43 days). I am currently sitting in Eagle, AK (population 89) only a few miles west of Canada, and right on the banks of the mighty and beautiful Yukon River. I am departing Monday for Yukon Charley Rivers National Preserve, and will essentially remain inside the park for the following 6 weeks. I apologize for the delay in recent posts, but look forward to updating with lots of photos in mid-late July.

A Climb on Geode Mountain and Sled Dogs

It was finally time to head far into the park. Yesterday morning, myself and the other SCA intern training in Denali, boarded a bus headed for the Eielson Visitors Center located over 65 miles down the park road. After talking with our supervisor, we had a good idea of where we wanted to hike for the day. The only way to access the park past mile 13 is by paying for a shuttle ticket (although we got them free as NPS employees). This greatly reduces the amount of noise, air, and light pollution throughout the park which greatly contributes to its untouched landscapes and unhabituated wildlife.

 Mt. McKinley/Denali absolutely dominates the background of some vistas. Over 45 miles away it looks as if the entire scene has been photoshopped.

 A few caribou graze in the tundra. The bus drivers are instructed to let the passengers know that whenever someone spots wildlife they can yell out to make the bus driver stop so everyone can see. With that many pairs of eyes all scanning for wildlife it made for some great viewing.

 This moose sprang right up onto the road in front of the bus as we rounded a corner, letting us get a good close up look.

 Adios!

 Our attention from the moose was quickly diverted when the other intern spotted a grizzly bear high up on a slope! Being able to watch this animal in its own habitat quickly demonstrates why the rangers go through such painstaking efforts to instill bear safety skills in hikers/campers...this bear was huge.

 Denali National Park is actually very good about teaching and adapting to current information regarding wildlife and practices to minimize our impact on their lifes, and the chance that they attack us. In fact, I was astonished to hear that the first ever bear attack resulting in a fatality in Denali occurred last year. Apparently the victim kept creeping closer for pictures and eventually the bear became frustrated. Rangers said that the last picture on the victim's camera captures the moment the bear lost its patience.

 This gives a better view of how far the bear was up on the slope. About an hour later we spotted a second grizzly along a river bed, but for some reason those photos are no longer on my camera.

 A view of what is considered a "braided" river. Often a trademark of glacial rivers, these waterways consist of silt laden water flowing through wide gravel basins. This was taken from a section called Polychrome Overlook. For a while the edge of the road was the edge of the cliff, with sheer drops hundreds of feet high in many places. As our bus driver said, "Don't worry, we have never lost a bus...we always find them."

 We asked to get dropped off slightly after Polychrome Lookout at the beginning of Polychrome Pass. Our goal was to summit Geode Mountain (so named for the abundance of geodes...more on that later) which is seen here. I was surprised to find that the majority of people who ride the shuttles don't even hike at all. When we asked to get dropped off everyone looked at us as though we were insane. Once you get dropped off you have to find your way back to the road and flag down a bus. We made sure to get a morning shuttle to lessen our risk of missing a ride back.

 The first part of the hike was among 10-12 foot high alder and willow trees. Like much of the landscape, this shrubby forested area was deceptively large and high. From the road it looks like a smooth purplish-brown landscape, but once you enter it you find yourself weaving among trees, streams and mudpits. At one point I spotted an old moose antler that had clearly been sitting there for some time.

 We decided to work our way around the right (west) side of the mountain to where we knew there were a few saddles we could attempt to utilize as access points. Many pretty alpine flowers dotted the landscape.

 A view from a bluff we climbed into the side canyon/gully we chose as our way up the mountain. Deception seemed to be the theme of the hike as the steepness of the slopes was much more intense than it seems from a distance, making for slow progress. Even the terrain (which appears smooth and easy) is a mix of mosses, lichens and grasses which sops up water making for gushy, slippery, and wet climbing conditions (the most abundant moss species, known commonly as peat moss, can hold up to 30x its weight in water).

 As we started to transition from a moss and grass dominated terrain to a muddy and rocky terrain we stumbled upon our first evidence of Geode Mountain's namesake. This relatively large rocky had a dazzling array of crystalline-looking structures on its outside.

 The deceptively (there it is again) deep snow, loose scree, and soft mud made for even slower going, especially given the incline.

 To avoid the potentially dangerous snow (it was easy to step and fall a few feet through the slippery snow) we had to head up even steeper inclines which were a little freaky considering the instability of stepping of loose rock.

 This poor vole/shrew met his demise from what I think was a coyote judging by the scat nearby.

 As we made our way towards the central ridge that formed the backbone of the mountain we began to spot many more geodes. Also called "thunder eggs" these rocks amazed me every time I saw them. From the outside they look like any law-abiding rock, but flip them over and you see their wild side.

 Some had smoother faces with different colors.

 Others had the traditional geode appearance with an indentation filled with diamond-like structures.

 Looking farther back into the mountains from the top of the ridge. I always love reaching a ridge as you get what I consider "two views for the price of one".

 It was like being on another planet.

 A multitude of small glaciers (including Polychrome Glacier) feed  a small river which I took a photo of earlier all the way at Polychrome Overlook (far left in the distance).

 Looking the other way, towards our route up, the Toklat River basin dominates the view. Just stunning scenery.

 The ridge we came up. In the distance the park road is visible.

 Our lunch spot. Not too shabby.

 We headed down using a number of ridges on the opposite side from where we ascended. This photo captures the ridge we just reached after going down and up in the interior valley formed by Geode Mountain's glaciers.

 After finally reaching the tundra floor, we still had a lot of trudging ahead of us. What looks like flat, easy going hiking is actually a maze of waist high shrubs and grasses which grab and smack you as you push through them (again, deceptive). Snowmelt streams appear and require cold water crossings. In some places the flat tundra suddenly give way to streams 7-8 feet deep.

Even where there are no shrubs, the grass is soppy and tall, and you have to give yourself up to walking shin deep in water.

 We found a moose antler which was extremely heavy. I can't imagine having two of those things stuck to my head.

Not much farther on we came across a caribou skull and antlers. Wasn't about to pick this one up though as there was obviously still some flesh to be had.

 After reaching the road the waiting game began, and we just continued our hike along the road eastward as we waited for a shuttle to come by. There are certainly worse places I could be made to wait.

 A view back towards Geode Mountain after the climb.

 What I believe is a ptarmigan. Alaskans are always keen to say that their state bird is indeed the ptarmigan, not the mosquito.

 This morning I went to the dog kennels across the headquarters to watch a free dog sled demontration. My favorite moment was when the rangers fan out to pick which dogs are going to participate and the dogs start going crazy trying to earn a spot on the line. This youngster here was still flipping out even after being harnessed in.

I was impressed with their speed and power. The demonstration only used 5 sled dogs, so I can't imagine what it is like with 16 dogs as Sven (back at the Fairbanks hostel) mentioned you use during the Iditarod.

 After the demonstration this dog, Loon, had to be brought back to her kennel early as she has a tendency to eat rocks...interesting.

 I walked around the kennel after their run around checking out all the dogs. These puppies are only a few weeks old.

 This dog, Chinook, was used in the demonstration, and after being unharnessed knows exactly where to run back to its kennel. We were told Chinook is retiring at the end of the week. The dogs do actually work, as during the long winter they are the primary mode of transportation around the park for the rangers.

Here I am with Tephra. All the dogs were super friendly...not to mention incredibly lean and strong. As Coach Taylor would say, "legs and lungs".