Bit by a Wolverine

This is usually where I would posts some action shots - but I discovered while dip netting last week that my camera was not exactly waterproof. Even as I slid it into the top pocket of my chest waders I considered stuffing it in a ziplock. But, no, I thought. It-will-be-just-fine. JUST -FINE. Thanks a lot Murphy. Anyhow, Scout took some pics and I'll post them when I get them. In the meantime - check out this artistic rendering of our trip: [turn the speed control on the left up to fast so it doesn't take so long!] sketch of the trip (update: photos added 8/16 - thx Scout!)

(pic looking down the other side of the peak)

Saturday Ally and Scout conned me and a few fellow unsuspecting saps (Salty and Tidy Whitey) into climbing Wolverine Peak. Wolverine sits innocently between Near Point and Flattop in the Chugach Range. Apparently we used up our Sun quota the day before on our ride up powerline pass, because our nearest star didn't show it's face all day. Here are a few pics from the Powerline trip:

Still, several sets of sunless Alaskan legs gave us ample reason to keep the shades on.

No shades required for our favorite brown pooch and her sun lovin best buddy!


Bear activity in these parts has been ridiculous. It seems like there's a new mauling every time you turn on the news. The approach to Wolverine is prime bear country, with crowding alders and rushing creeks. Salty came armed with bear spray, but our main defense was loud, mindless blabbering. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a pause in the conversation for the first 2 hours.

Then, the rain started.

And it didn't really stop, except to catch it's breath every now and then. Still, we forged on keeping tally of the moose we spotted across the valley - something like 6 in all.



I don't know how much one needs to eat on an 11 mile mountain hike, but I'm sure the 5000 calories or so we consumed on the ridge was plenty. We had a pile of food that would make a marine squad proud.


Then we were up and going again, dragging our cold, wet (but full) bodies up the steepest, rocky section. Jamie the pace dog did her best to make sure our rests stops weren't too long unless they involved more food.


By the time we reached the peak it was totally engulfed in clouds. Several of us were cold and shaking, taking just enough time at the top to snap a few obligatory victory pics and shove off back down the hill.






Then the snow came. Sideways.

And we thought we were cold and wet before. Ha! The wind was blowing hard out of the south, pounding us on one side with a snowcone like slurry that trickled down our collars, traveled the length of our arms and pooled in the soggy excuse for gloves. My left butt cheek was entirely numb, but perhaps that is too much information.

Alas, we made it down the mountain with our smiles intact. We stopped for another snack break, because you know, 7000 calories is better than 5000. We slogged our way through the muddy creek that our trail had evolved into, with only a few slip-and-slide acrobatics.


Back in the parking lot, the clouds parted, and the sun rewarded us with it's presence. Beer never tasted so good. There we sat on the tailgate, basking in it's warmth, grinning over our accomplishment, completely unaware that we would not be able to walk for the next two days. Good times.

Misty Mountain March

I finally convinced Jamie to take me for a walk today. She's really been slacking in this department as of late. I mean, seriously. All she does is lay around all day and wait for us to fill her food bowl. You'd think she could at least take me down to the creek a few times a week. Dogs these days. Lazy I tell you.

Anyway, we headed up to Glen Alps this morning. Walking down to the Campbell would have been much quicker. But I needed the mountains. I needed the open tundra, and the quiet. I needed to flush the concrete, blaring horns and crowds of New York City from my soul. It was a good trip. A surprisingly good trip actually. I never would have guessed that my mom and sister could ever survive under the same roof for seven days. Babies are miracles. Eliy is a particularly special miracle. Still, I was more than ready to return to the mountains.

So we headed to Glen Alps, in spite of the weather. Let it rain. Bring it on.

What I hadn't considered was that those clouds concealing the Chugach range were going to look much different when we immersed ourselves in them. As we drove up Toilsome Road, I suddenly realized that at times I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of us. Visibility came and went with the wind, but overall, the world had vanished. I considered turning back - and had there been any bear warnings at the trail head, I certainly would have. But the lack of signage, and Jamie's sad eyes were enough to push me onward. I'm so glad that we did.