Denali National Park
Today was a very strenuous day. When we first came into the park, we were looking at the list of things to do and saw something called a “Discovery Hike,” a relatively short, supposedly half-day, small group hike led by a ranger. There were two hikes listed for today. The first was a “strenuous” hike which included 1300 ft of elevation gain; I don’t remember the other details other than it was pretty far back in the park, which meant another 40 or 50 mile bus ride each way. The other was listed as a “moderate,” four-and-a-half mile hike, including a 900-ft elevation gain, a walk through the tundra, and possibly one or two stream crossings. It recommended bringing a pair of sneakers or Tevas for the stream crossings, plus an extra pair of dry socks. Both hikes required us to bring a lunch, as well as raingear, pile jacket, etc – the normal stuff you would expect to carry while hiking in an area like this. We chose the moderate hike since it was closer in – only a 30-mile bus ride each way – and because we didn’t feel up to a strenuous hike given the three weeks of relative non-exercise we’ve had along the way.
After dinner last night down in the village, we stopped at the local Subway and got a footlong sandwich, which we normally split. We took peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on yesterday’s bus trip, but figured we needed something more nourishing for today’s hike. The girls at the Subway shop asked us if we were buying the sandwich for hiking the next day, and were kind enough to pack the veggies and condiments separately so the sandwiches wouldn’t get soggy in the fridge overnight. They do this a lot here.
We set the alarm again for 6:00 am and went to bed by 10:00 pm. This morning dawned cloudy, but with a hint of blue sky here and there. The temperature was again in the high 40’s, and the forecast called for mid-60’s in the afternoon. We had our coffee and a quick breakfast of cereal with blueberries and the last of our giant cinnamon bun, and were over at the Wilderness Activities Center in plenty of time for our 8:00 am bus. This bus was only for the two Discovery Hike hikers so it wasn’t crowded. Our ranger joined us a couple of miles up the road at the stop for park employee housing, and the other group’s ranger would join them at wherever it was their hike was supposed to start. After a one-hour ride up to a point approximately a mile past the Taklanika River rest stop, the bus stopped and our group disembarked. Right away I had a bad omen – I had my camera case on the hip belt of my day pack, but had taken the camera out in case we had any wildlife sightings on the trip up. As I got up from my seat the camera case must have fallen off onto the floor of the bus. I didn’t notice it was missing until I buckled on the day pack as the bus drove away. It wasn’t a big thing since I had the camera in my pocket, but it did have my spare battery and memory card. I guess I can pick it up at the lost and found tomorrow morning; at least I hope it shows up.
There were eight people in our hike, plus Alison, the ranger who was leading the hike. Besides Jeanette and me, there was a couple from Germany, a man from San Francisco, and three Indians from Mumbai, but who were now living in Las Vegas. Both the Germans and the Indians spoke good English, so we did not have a communications problem. The hike started with a traverse of a wide, shallow drainage. As soon as we stepped off the road we were in the tundra, and it was nothing at all like the tundra we’re used to above timberline in Colorado. The tundra here consists of a continuous bed – actually a series of small humps or hummocks – of thick, soft, green moss. The moss is at least six inches to a foot deep, and each step sinks a few inches into it. It feels like walking on a sponge, or maybe a waterbed. Everywhere, even on sloping ground, there are hidden pockets of dark water – not deep, but certainly uncomfortable when you step into one. Mixed in with the moss are low blueberry, cranberry and other berry bushes – a favorite food of the bears – and low flowers, including fireweed, dwarf fireweed, hare bells, monk’s hook, bog saxifrage, eskimo potoato, jacob’s ladder, cinquefoils, gentian, Arctic dock, and many others. Then there are willows and the dwarf birch. The willows are like the Colorado high-altitude willows – waist-high to head-high, with thick, intertwining branches, growing in wide bands and patches of usually wet or boggy footing. Anyone who has fought his way through the famous Guanella Pass willow field to reach the foot of the Mt Bierstadt trail in Colorado knows what I’m talking about. The dwarf birch is a low, calf-high to knee high shrub which makes the tundra, from a distance, look like a grassy meadow. But as you walk through it, it is a real ankle grabber. And beneath it all is the spongy tundra.
Our goal was a band of low hills across this mile-wide tundra field. Of course with all the zig-zagging and bushwacking through the willows, we probably walked at least a mile-and-a-half or two miles to reach to base of the hills. I should pause a moment and say that, except for a half dozen or so short trails in the Visitor Center area and a couple at some really popular spots right along the road, there are no trails in Denali Park. Everywhere you hike is a bushwack, either through the tundra or the scree of the low slopes of the mountains. And bushwacking through the tundra is not simply walking; each step is like climbing stairs with vines grabbing at your ankles.
There were plenty of blueberries, especially once we reached the lower slopes of the hills. The blueberries, like everything else in this harsh climate, are miniature versions of what you’re accustomed to seeing. Although they are only a quarter inch or so in diameter, there are hundreds of them everywhere. As you hike, you pick blueberries and continuously pop them into your mouth – one of the few pleasant experiences of this hike. Alison, our ranger guide, said that studies estimate that the bears eat an average of 200,000 (yep, that’s two hundred thousand) blueberries each day once the berries ripen. That sounded like a lot of blueberries, so I asked her how they came up with that figure. She said that researchers counted the berries in random piles of bear scat (the berries don’t digest well), and counted 20,000 berries on average in each sample of scat. Since they say the average bear craps at least ten times a day, that’s where they came up with 200,000. I don’t know, that sounds like a lot of berries, particularly 20,000 in one pile of bear scat. Perhaps she was at least a decimal place off – even 2000 berries per scat pile seems like a lot to me.
Anyway, back to the hike. The climb up the low hill wasn’t too steep, but it involved navigating through more willows, so it was twice as hard as we expected. However, we reach the top we were treated to a nice, fairly level area of dry shale rubble to sit on and eat lunch. It had taken us over three hours to reach this spot approximately a mile-and-a-half as the crow flies from our starting point, but probably twice that with all our zig-zagging and weaving. My GPS said we were right at 3400 feet, or just as advertised, 900 feet above the point where we got off the bus. The view from this hilltop was outstanding – 360 degrees of rugged, albeit only 5000 or 6000-ft peaks. However, each succeeding layer of mountains grew higher and higher, until off in the distance we could see 10,000 footers with patches of snow on their flanks. Again, though, Mt McKinley was hidden in clouds and not to be seen.
The fun began when we started downhill and back toward the road. Back again through the willow thickets, and back again through the spongy tundra. This time our route took us a mile or so north of our incoming route, and right into a serious bog about a quarter mile wide. We kept veering farther and farther to the north, trying to find a semi-dry path through the willow bog. The bog kept getting wider and wider, so we finally had to bite the bullet and wade through. This must have been the “stream” the hike description mentioned. It was not a stream at all but rather a series of rivulets too wide to step across. By the time we got through, everyone’s boots were soaked and full of water, and we still had a mile or more to get to the road -- through more tundra, of course. There was a small rise between the bog and the road which afforded a little relief from the wetness, then a short slope through some fairly dense timber, but we finally reached the road at 3:45 pm, six hours after our hike began We probably hiked at least five or six miles total. Then, for some unknown reason, the return buses were running late. The first two buses were full, so it was an hour before we finally boarded a bus and then another hour before we reached the Wilderness Activity Center. It was a long day.
Our first stop, even before returning to our campground, was the showers. Boy, did a hot shower feel good. Almost as good as the cold beer we had back at the campsite.
Jeanette’s Addendum: In defense of the ranger, she was young and had never hiked in this area before. I don’t think she realized how boggy the area actually was. Thanks to Joan Boyle, I had the best mosquito net in the group and I wore it for much of the hike. The mosquitoes were quite unfriendly and although I am usually the target, they just couldn’t get to me. I thought I was doing great at first enjoying the spongy bog and keeping dry. But then I guess I got tired and kept getting tripped up by the bushes. I fell about five times and once in the water. Finally got not only my feet wet but also my butt. Not quite the hike that we usually experience on Tuesdays at home.
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