Winter Wonderland: No Snow? No Problem.

Since I moved to Alaska in May, I kept thinking of winter with a sense of dread. It was going to be cold, dark and gloomy, and this for a good 5 months. From June 21st on, as we were losing over 5  minutes of sun every day, I was watching every ominous sign of approaching Fall and then Winter.  "Fall last about a month here", I had been warned.  I was expecting to be buried in snow by mid-November.  So I made plans.  I was going to take advantage of the nice days that were left, enter in semi-hibernation during a month-long shoulder season and then I was going to get the most out of this dreaded winter and take on skate-skiing, ice-skating and go back-country skiing as often as I could.

The last kayak run of the season happened around mid-October. Not too bad!  Within a month, I would be skiing everyday in Anchorage.  The municipality does a great job at maintaining ski trails in the many parks scattered around town and all the trails are lit, so the lack of daylight was not going to stop me.  The town also grooms about 10 lakes in town to allow people to ice-skate.

So I waited for snow to fall... and waited... and waited... and it snowed, of course! But so little!  All in all, we got less than a foot of snow in Anchorage, I am pretty sure of that. Two main snow falls blanketed the town of a nice layer of light snow that never really melted thanks to the consistently cold temperatures and that was just enough to allow for a few weeks of skate skiing, part of which being on man-made snow.

It turned out that even in the winter skiing could be a challenge. :)

 

4000-acres Far North Centennial Park in Anchorage

This does not mean I had any time to get bored this winter! Take the lateness of this post (it is early April and by the way IT IS SNOWIIIIIING!!!! Urll is moking us!!) as proof that I had no issue keeping myself busy. And I had a lot of fun too!

Skate Skiing
I did enjoy quite a few days of skate skiing, either here in town or in Hatcher's Pass, about 1 hr from here.

Sunny day at Hatcher's pass.

Christmas decorations in Kincaid Park in Anchorage

Hatcher's Pass skate skiing with the gang.

Backpacking
This winter, I spent two wonderful week in Mexico. I admit this was a nice break from the Alaskan cold and short days.  A few days after I came back, I did a backpacking trip with some friends in the Chugach Mountains. What a fantastic way to ease myself back in the Alaska life. We hiked up to Crow Pass in amazingly mild weather and spent one night in a cute little cabin at the top of the mountain.

On our way to the Crow Pass cabin

 The hike up proved to be a challenge without snowshoe as the deep snow (and our heavy packs) made for some serious post-stalling sometimes more than knee-deep.  But with patience and steady effort, we made it to our little abode.

We made it!

 After establishing our residence in the little A-frame cabin for the night, we went out to enjoy an evening of sledding and snow-skating.  Personally, I felt like I was 8 again, sledding at full speed down the hill: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!  What great fun!

Thao choosing the fastest line to sled down the hill. :)

The next day, after a hearty breakfast we headed out for some more fun in the snow and headed back to the valley.

David showing his snow-skating skills.

Can you read CROW (Pass)?

Time to head back

Resort Skiing
 I also skied one day in Alyeska, in Girdwood.  On Average, this resort get just over 200" of snow at the base and 650" at the top.  No need to say that this year was not even close.  Many slopes were closed and snow was scarce on some of the open runs.  We still had a great time and it was good to fire up the old telemark moves again.

View of Turnagain Arm from Alyeska

Ice-Skating
Another fun winter activity to do here is ice skating.  The municipality of Anchorage maintains a few ice-skating spots in town, including a large body of water called "Westchester Lagoon".  The last time I had been on skates was probably over twenty years ago and I must have skated about two or three times in my life but I bought a pair of skates and gave it a try.  It went pretty well and our little gang had a great time casually gliding on the ice for hours on end. Some of us even started being creative and inventing new technical move, including the now famous "Triple Klutz", demonstrated below.

Triple Klutz: Initiation

Triple Klutz: Landing.

The first time I went skating at Westchester Lagoon, I was immediately struck by the great vibe that the place radiated.  Families, friends, all kinds of people of all shapes and ages and skill levels were here simply having fun. Some people were circling round and round chatting, others were playing hockey or the more rugged game of "broomball" but everybody had a smile on their face and enjoying a nice time.  Warmth was emanating from that place despite the biting cold weather.

Broomball

I also discovered another aspect of ice skating I enjoyed very much: I would call it "back-country skating" but I am making it up.  One weekend in February, we went skating at Eklutna lake.  For those of you who have been following this blog, you might remember that I went paddling there last summer.  Well, skating on the frozen lake was just as fun.  We skated over 8 miles that day.

 The next day, my friend David and I took our skates to another type of environment: a creek!  I have spent a lot of time on creeks in my life but it usually involved a  kayak... not ice-skates. This place called "Rabbit Slough" is located about 45 minutes North of Anchorage.  Apparently, with enough time and stamina, one can skate (or bike or ski depending on the snow/ice conditions) all the way to the coast.

That day, David and I skated over 15 miles and that was enough... at least for me.  By the time we were back to the car, my ankles were begging for mercy.  But we had a wonderful time and our surroundings were absolutely gorgeous. We could just have skated forever and ever as this stream seemed to have to end.  This gave me a very nice feeling of freedom.  We did encounter a few spots of (very) thin ice.  The ice, breaking under our weight, gave out an eerie cracking sound that encouraged us to skate as fast and lightly as we could past these patches.  We also found a few "bubbles" were a frozen over flow of water had created soft patches that would sneak on us and trip us.  This made for a few good falls, followed by lots of laughter.  I admit I scored high in terms fall quantity (5 or so) but David won the **quality prize** with a spectacular flight through the air (he was entirely airborne) and an impressively loud crash through a bubble that shattered with the sound of broken glass. Worried at first, I ended up almost dying of laughter. I just wish I could have caught that on camera. Overall, the ice was smooth and in great condition and we just cruised down the length of Rabbit Slough taking in the magnificent scenery.

 

Rabbit Slough

After experiencing this kind of ice-skating, I can see myself having a hard time to enjoy indoor ice-skating rinks.

Today is Easter Sunday and this is a much overdue post.  But this Winter did keep me busy despite the scanty snow. I was told that Alaska is all about adapting to the weather conditions; and if you can do that, there is ALWAYS something to do here.  This has proved to be true so far.  Now let us see what Spring has up its sleeve for us.  Kayaking season should be starting soon and I can't wait!!

 

"Anchorage is Five Minutes from Alaska"

I have heard this a lot since I have moved here. I also have had plenty of opportunities to appreciate the truth of this statement and yet, I cannot cease to wonder at the easy access to wilderness and the sense of remoteness you can experience while being at stone throw from the city.

Immediately after I moved to Anchorage I realized that even though this was a sizable city, it was not the kind of place that allowed for a complete disconnection from the environment.  This simple fact hinted to me that I was probably going to like it here.  Overall, I feel like Alaskans (at least the ones I have met) are more "in tune" with Nature than many people I have met elsewhere; probably because they have to.  Where else do you have to be mindful of bear when you go for a run (do not go alone in certain places, do not wear headphones...etc.)?  Shortly after I moved here, a woman was severely mauled by a grizz while running on the military base located at the edge of town. So when people told me to not go running by myself in the 4000 acres park that is about 5 minutes from my apartment, I took them seriously. :)

To illustrate this proximity to "the wild", I decided to make this post a potpourri of pictures I took on hikes that were no more than a 20 minute drive from my apartment.

The hike to Wolverine peak is a steep 5-mile climb taking you through an almost lunar landscape of tundra. The last mile is a narrow ridge and that day, it was swept by a strong and icy wind.  The whole hike is quite spectacular but only once you reach the very top can you get the real reward: a superb view on Mount Elliott, wedged between two valleys drained by two different forks of Campbell creek and spotted by lakes, large and small.



Hike to Wolverine Peak - Anchorage Side

 

View from the Top of Wolverine Peak

Flat Top Mountain is to Anchorage what The National Mall is to DC... just a bit more rugged. :) 
Because it is so close to town, sort of a "must climb", and maybe also because of its name, this hike can be deceiving to most poeple who assume it  must be a nice Sunday stroll.  The hike is not trivial.  It is steep and the end of it is a rock scramble that can sometimes be a bit exposed.  We hiked it on a nice day that offered a spectacular view on Mount Denali, Mount Susitna (or Sleeping Lady) and other surrounding mountain chains.  For reference, Denali is about 200 miles from Anchorage as the crows fly.  So yes.... it is a big mountain.  Usually, Anchorage is visible at all times during the is hike; but that day, the city disappeared under a thick blanket of white clouds. This gave the hike more of a feeling of remoteness that we all appreciated.

Cloud cover over Anchorage, Knick Arm and some good looking mountains

 

 

On all fours for the last stretch.

 

 

Mount Denali in the background. Oh! And Karen! Hellooo! ;)



Made it to the flat top of Flat Top.



Looking towards Turnagain Arm

Williwaw Lake trail took us a bit deeper into winter.  Even though Anchorage did not see much snow until today (November 29), this little hike got our toes frosty. It was nice to walk among the snow-covered spruce trees, which made our surroundings look like a winter wonderland.

 

Nice view of Mount Denali

One Saturday, I decided to go for a solo hike to Hidden Lake.  After hiking about 2 miles on "Power Line trail" an access road where people hike, ski bike, walk their dogs...etc., I made a left on the small trail that was supposed to lead me to Hidden Lake.  Right away I saw moose tracks and black bear tracks.  It had not been terribly cold, yet, so bears were not hibernating and I made sure my bear spray was handy.  About another mile into the hike, I stumbled upon tracks that were not from black bear but from what seemed to be a rather imposing grizzly bear.  I paused and looked around. The coast seemed to be clear but a few thoughts crossed my mind:

1. If the bear was ahead of me on the trail, the strong head wind would most likely prevent him from smelling me.
2. If he was to backtrack and face me, the head wind (again) would make my bear spray useless (I would mace myself and make for a nice spicy snack)
3. I was wearing crampons, which would make me rather tough to digest (Yes, I did think that...)

After pondering this for a minute or two, I decided to keep going and stay on guard.  I did not regret it as this turned out to be a very pleasant hike in a frosty landscape bathed by the soft light of the low-hanging winter sun.

Cute little footsie!

 

The latest hike we did in our "backyard" was the climb to Rendez-Vous peak and since we did not have enough after reaching the top, we also bagged Mount Gordon.  After the steep climb to the top of Rendez-Vous, we quickly discovered that the hardened snow provided a super fun way to go down... on our butts:

1. Take a few quick steps downhill,
2. Smoothly apply butt to ground
3. Zoom down
4. Enjoy! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Then again, this hike rewarded us with some stunning views of the Chugach mountains and beautiful skies. 

 

All this fun was had right at the doorstep of Anchorage and this is a real blessing for Nature lovers.  I I sometimes wonder how people who do not appreciate the outdoors make it here.  After six months living here, I think I know the answer: they can't.  In Alaska, you have to embrace mother nature, even if she is sometimes a bit rough around the edges, or you probably will not be able to stay very long.  But know or learn how to appreciate the ruggedness and discover bliss. 

September 14: A Taste of Fall in the Matanuska River Valley

A few weeks after moving to Anchorage, I sent an email to a the Knick Canoe and Kayak (mostly sea and some river kayaking) message board, hoping to meet some fellow paddlers.  Within 15 minutes of sending my note, I had received close to 10 replies.  I was impressed by the generosity of this community, the spontaneous willingness to help integrating an uprooted newbie and helping me with pursuing my passion for whitewater kayaking.  This email posted on the message board is what gave me the opportunity to do my first descent of Six Mile creek and later on, to paddle the Lion's Head section of the Matanuska river.

One day in September, I received an email from Zach, who at some point had read my email to the KCK message board and was inviting me to run Lion's Head with a few friends of his.  I jumped on the opportunity and on Saturday morning, met downtown Anchorage with this entirely new group of people, ready to drive about an hour and a half north of the city, to our put-in.  We would have one open canoe, one oar rig and two kayaks, including myself.

Mid September, Anchorage was still green and relatively warm by Alaska standards.  Within an hour of northward driving, I felt like we were entering a different world... or at least a different season.  Summer was over, here.  It was clear and sunny but the air was nippy and the mountains were exploding with the yellow and light orange colors of Fall. I felt overwhelmed by the beauty that was surrounding me.  No picture can do it justice (especially not MY pictures and, on top of that, taken with my phone!). Truncating a piece of this landscape and confining it to a few thousand pixels feels like I am amputating and choking a piece of the Universe to force and squeeze it into a tiny box.  That just does not feel right.  So I trust you will use your imagination and "think out of the picture"!  Let your mind wander, remove the rigid borders of these photos and let yourself shrink to the size of a tiny ant strolling amongst towering peaks.

Fall is Here! But not There (in Anchorage).

Downstream from the section we were going to paddle, the Matanuska river appeared braided and I was not sure what to expect in terms of flow.  It seemed rather low to me but my companions kept wondering at how much water was there.

The Matanuska River Valley

As we approached our destination, the river channelized and I realized that we were going to paddle just downstream of the Matanuska glacier (The Matanuska forms at the confluence of its east and south forks and then meets with the glacier). It was going to be a refreshing paddle.

Matanuska Glacier

We started our journey on Caribou creek, which was apparently flowing much higher than usual and was a nice cappuccino color. After less than a mile, the creek met the Matanuska, but instead of letting itself be engulfed by the larger stream, it "butted head" with its big sister for another half mile or so, resisting the mixing.  In my kayak, I rode the clearly defined line separating the brown waters of the creek from the silty gray flow of the Matanuska.

Meeting without Mixing: the Matanuska river (Gray) and Caribou Creek (Brown)

Never have I paddled such thick silty water.  A long time ago, my dear friend Susan and I paddled the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas in Colorado after a heavy storm and I remember the water being brown and thick with sediment --Frappucino color eh, SuzZ? ;).  This was somewhat similar, except the Matanuska is even thicker, loaded with silt eroded away by the glacier.  This water was pretty difficult to read as everything was gray: no way to rely on frothy whitewater to give away holes, some of which, large enough to swallow a good size raft, would sneak up on you.  You just had to be ready to make a move to avoid getting "chundered" in some big hydraulic. This made for a fun run: nothing difficult (Class III+/IV), but very continuous, so dynamic, and keeping you on your toes at all times.

 

Zee Crew

 

This valley is a jewel that gives you a feeling of remoteness even though it is only about an hour and a half from Anchorage.  Aside from the paddling, I hear it offers myriad of hiking, skiing and mountain biking opportunities.  The second I set my eyes on these mountains, I knew I would return to explore the area and lose myself in its wilderness. I also promised myself that whoever would come visit me here in Alaska, I would have to drag them here to show them the simple beauty of the Matanuska river valley.  So come on! Try me! :)

September 1st: Paddle to Portage Glacier.Take 2

Glaciers are one of the many awe-inspiring natural features I have found in Alaska since I have moved here.  These gigantic rivers of ice suspended on the side of mountains slowly creep downhill, relentlessly eroding their way through the mountains and digging their characteristic U-shaped valleys.

To reach Portage glacier, I was going to paddle the length of Portage Lake,  which was created behind the terminal moraine of the glacier as it began receding. And receding it did!  In fact, in 1886, the Begich-Boggs Visitor Center was built to offer a point of view on the glacier.  Today, the glacier cannot be seen from the building any more.

On my first attempt to see the glacier, it was an unusual 80-degree day in Anchorage!!  The perfect weather to paddle on some frigid water!  I loaded my gear and boat and set off for the 50-mile drive.  As I approached the turn-off to Portage Lake, I noticed the valley was completely filled with dark cloud.  I made the left turn on Portage road and within 5 minutes, the temperature had dropped from 80 to 50!  It was also foggy and very windy.  At the visitor center, a ranger discouraged me to put-on because of 19-knot winds that were coming from the glacier and pushing large icebergs into the lake.  Also some sea-kayakers, who tried to put-on despite the wind, ended up pushed in the mouth of Portage Creek.  That was enough to convince me I had to scratch that plan... I would be back!

About a month later, I returned to Portage hoping to make it to the glacier.  Once again it was very windy but nothing like what I had seen a few weeks earlier.  It was also sunny and crisp.  So I decided to put on.

The paddle out was challenging as a side wind created irregular waves that were sometimes up to 3 or 4 feet and pushing me into the shore.  I would have preferred a headwind to this but I was going to make do. 

The glacier was almost immediately in view but I had a hard time realizing the size of what I was looking at until I saw a cruise ship approaching it.  These cruise-ships taking tourists close to the glacier are not small.  This particular boat was a double-decker and the glacier in the background made it look like a tiny water bug.

 

Can you see the double-deck cruise ship in the circle

I kept struggling against the wind and the waves until I reached a little beach across the lake from the glacier.  I had been advised to not even try to approach the glacier as the calving process could be very dangerous for a kayak.  Witnessing the glacier calving was very impressive.  As I was taking in the beauty of what was in front of my eyes, I heard what sounded like a lightening strike without immediately realizing what it was.  Only when it happened again and I saw what looked like a small piece of ice detaching from the glacier did I realize the glacier was calving.  From the loud resounding sound the breaking blocks made as they parted from the bulk of the ice, they were probably much larger than they seem from the safety of my beach.  I stayed there for a while, mesmerized by this evolving scene.

Up to that point, I had been very observant of the words of caution I had received from friends and from the park ranger and I had stayed well clear of the glacier.   I was also told not to approach icebergs as they can abruptly overturn and capsize a boat or, in a worst case scenario, crush it and with it its paddler.  From my little beach, I could see two small icebergs. Their deep blue color and graceful shape made them so attractive, I could not resist but approach them.  I figured they were not that large and well... they looked like they had no desire to flip over.  Obviously they just wanted to float around, chillin'.  So I carefully paddled up to them and took pictures from every possible angle.

The paddle back to the put-in was much easier than the paddle out as the side wind had turned into more of a head wind.  I made it back to my car in an hour with my hand and face frozen from the constant splashing of 33 degree water and smiling from having seen seen this marvelous sight.

On the way back to Anchorage, I was rewarded by another sight that I have now seen many times but of which I cannot get enough:  beluga whales were swimming up Turnagain.  Even though the whales only slightly poke the surface of the water and are barely visible, a little piece of white skin emerging from the waves here and there or the occasional blow creating a spray are always a special treat.  

Can you see a beluga? :)

One more time I was returning to the city with my eyes and mind full of what makes Alaska so special: natural beauty.