They're right about the Whites

In Interior Alaska, it's common knowledge that you don't really travel INTO the White Mountains National Recreation Area on foot, when there isn't snow covering the ground. Sure, there's a few hiking trails leading in a ways, but almost no one ever steps foot off of them, due to the tussocks, wet ground, thick brush, old burn areas, etc. It's really a winter rec area.
Well, I've had this 'great' idea of connecting the three major peaks of the White Mountains (map) - Cache, Lime, & Prindle - on a hiking trip... in summer. It would involve crossing Beaver Creek and hiking about 20 miles through the previously mentioned hell to get to the higher (& drier) ground. Follow the ridgelines east, then drop down from Prindle to Nome Creek Road, off the Steese Highway. About 75 miles, so since it's off-trail and has some bad hiking conditions, let's figure 5 days. That's 15 miles per day, which should be do-able, even with bad tussocks or brush, carrying a light load.
We managed to get the 20 miles in the first day, even with a noon start time, after shuttling the vehicles. However, day two, with steep ridgelines, long unstable rock slopes, and horrendously thick brush growing on some of the same unstable rock, kept us to only 11 miles before we had a circular conversation regarding whether or not we should continue, based on how 'good' the hiking was compared to the first day, but how slow we actually traveled over it. Considering even steeper terrain to come, knowing the Rocky Mountain (Lime Peak) region was potentially too rough/rocky to travel over (meaning we'd have to hike in the valleys, i.e., brush), and, since day two was so slow, realizing we would have to cover more miles per day over rougher terrain for the next three days, the decision was obvious to make a turn south and head back to the car the next day.
We woke up with our pride, over 25 miles from the trailhead where the car was parked, overlooking the wooded, brushy creek valley below. We'd follow the creek to the winter trail, take that to a cabin for a break, then haul butt over the terrain we had already covered the first day (and back across Beaver Creek), on our way to the car. Fortunately, I've pretty much been on this exact route three times in the past two winters, while biking the White Mountains 100 route. It was really cool to see it all in the summer and know where I was the whole time.
Yeah, I'll admit, the hiking was truly terrible in some sections for miles on end, by nearly everyone's standards. But, if you can suck it up and walk the uneven, wet ground to the high country, the hiking is pretty darn good up there if you can stay above the brush. It's a circular process of convincing yourself you're hardcore, both to do trips like this and by experiencing these (what some would call) uncomfortable conditions.
Overall, there are probably better places to go on long hiking trips in the summer, but I had really been wanting to see that country in summer, after having such incredible experiences out there in winter.
They're right about the Whites, but will I go back to try and complete the route? You betcha.

Side Note:
Regarding the rock & 'almost Aron Ralston-ed' incident from the video
While hiking one particularly unstable boulder slope, I thought, 'Gee, I should turn around and get a picture of Brett walking through that.'
As I was about to turn, I heard him yell, 'Ah!'
With, 'Are you ok?' on the tip of my tongue, he screamed, 'Dude, hurry, get the F--- over here!' The big boulder that moved when he stepped on it had just slid on the rock below, trapping and pinching his entire lower leg up against an even larger boulder. I scrambled the thirty-plus feet over to him as he threw off his pack, with bottles, etc, flying out into the surrounding boulders.
He was trapped, with no way of freeing himself.
I pushed, pulled, and lifted the boulder every way I could get a purchase on it. Nothing. Not even a release in pressure. It was big and I was starting to think I wouldn't be able to move it. There had to be a way.
I have a strong ability to tell my body to do something that I think is beyond it's capabilities and, somehow, be able to do it well. I knew I had to tap into that. My hands searched for a place to lift on the rock, hopefully, near his leg. Being blocky, there wasn't much to grab.
Then, I found a knob and placed both hands on it, stacked like a rock climber's, and pushed my left knee up against them, heaving upward with my entire body and every drop of adrenaline I had left.
'You got it! Keep going,' Brett yelled. I gave it all I had. With one last, desperate, screaming push, I watched Brett, out of the corner of my eye, throw his body forward, ripping his leg from the grasp of the two behemoths.
He said I never really moved the rock, but merely released the pressure of a couple hundred pounds of earth squeezing his bones. Sitting down, he removed the torn shoe and assessed his foot. After an initial broken bone scare, he realized one or two bones were probably just bruised (we think). In a few minutes, we were moving again, but seemingly 'hitting the emergency brake,' as Brett later said, every time we walked over the big rocks.

Coal Wood Glitter: The Third Time's A Charm

I had an idea, I planned, I tried, and now I finished.

90 miles through the Alaska Range, this time with Ed Plumb & Ann Farris.
Day 1: Suntrana to Cody Creek via Healy Creek (27 mi) & 10 hrs of sleep
Day 2: Cody Creek to Edgar Creek  via the Wood River (25 mi) & 8 hrs of sleep
Day 3: Edgar Creek to McKinley Village, aka 'Glitter Gulch' (10 mi hiking & 28 mi packrafting).
          First vehicle I thumbed it to picked us up.

The Route:
About 95% of this route offers some sort of trail or path, whether it be ATV or game trails.
One 4500 ft pass and one 5400 ft pass. Lots of creek/river bed walking & thick brush (mostly alder & birch) in drainages up to 4000 feet.
The Yanert is swift glacial current, running at least 6 mph, with a top floating speed of 11 mph. It's mostly a class I-II float, with some hard & tight eddy lines that require precise paddling and a few class III bends and holes, almost all of which are avoidable.
I unintentionally danced with the Devil and ended up running two big wave trains, without a spray deck or PFD, that each led into a class III hole, but managed to stay dry & upright. Sorry Mom, but I guess I learned something from all those Roman Dial packrafting videos.

Trip Insight:
- It's a great route: walk past the old coal mines and up Healy Creek for 20-some miles, up & over Cody Pass & down Cody Creek to the Wood River, up it to Big Grizzly Creek & the pass to Edgar Creek, then follow Edgar Creek to the Yanert, float out the Yanert to Revine Creek (5 hrs) and hike back to the Parks Highway at McKinley Village. It's very straight-forward and easy to follow.
- As you can see in the video, we used the GPS a lot, but that's only because we forgot the maps in the truck. I also had a mental image burnt into my brain after two years of planning. We found that it's perfect for someone looking to 'go bigger' with their backcountry adventures, but still have some sort of path to follow and information about the route, with not too big of terrain and modest safety hazards.
- I typically don't eat that much during the day, but like a big meal at night. It replaces what I burned during the day and helps me sleep at night. But, if it's cold, windy, & wet, I need a lot more calories during the day.
- Ultralight is great, but if it's nasty weather, it may be best to either have extra time to wait it out or bring the extra food it will take (calorically) to keep on truckin'. Extra time might be nice to catch up on sleep or rest sore muscles/feet from all the mileage you probably were doing because you are going ultralight.
- I took my pack off three times each day and never sat down the first two days, until we made camp. We averaged between 2.5 & 3 mph hiking, depending on the brush intensity. Continuing to hike and not taking more than a few minute breaks was actually nicer than stopping and resting, as it kept my body in motion.
- I dipped a liter bottle in small creeks for water, without filtering, and found that every creek tastes different, depending on the rock and minerals deposited into the water. It kept me in touch with the environment in a way I've never experienced before.

The Gear:
19 lbs including boat & paddle, not including worn & consumables
Six Moon Designs Comet backpack (& 2 webbing straps to tie to packraft)
Marmot Hydrogen sleeping bag & torso size blue foam
Patagonia wool 2 zip-t & wool socks (for sleeping, in silnylon bag)
GoLite Shangri-La 3 & 6 Y-stakes (to sleep 3 people)
Ti pot, Cat stove, pot grabber, spoon, windscreen, & matches (to cook inside shelter)
Bear spray, knife, & firestarter
Rab eVent jacket & OR PacLite pants
Montbell Thermawrap Vest & Patagonia Nano Puff Hoody
Alpacka Yukon Yak (also to sleep on)
AquaBound Manta Ray paddle (also shelter support)

Gear Insight:
- Denatured alchohol is great, but up at 4500 feet on Big Grizzly Creek was the first time I've ever had problems with the cat stove. Even nestled behind some rocks, it took almost 10 lights before it stayed burning and boiled water. Every time I set the pot on the stove, it would go out. Sensitive to the wind?
- Having the liter bottle cinched to my backpack shoulder strap with an orange ski strap was fantastic. I stayed more hydrated than I ever have in my life, as the water was right there to drink and monitor how much I had or needed for the next stretch. If I was hiking along a creek, I'd dump it out and carry an empty bottle, as I could dip whenever I was thirsty.
- The Rab Latok Alpine Jacket with eVent fabric doubled as a wind & rain jacket. It was so breathable, I only took it off for one mile! While hiking into the driving rain, however, it did wet out, but conditions were pretty gnarly and I'm not disappointed, especially when I compare its performance to all the other waterproof/breathable fabrics I've used.
- We had to stop hiking the second night (in the driving rain) not because we were tired or it was late or too nasty of weather, but because my gloves were saturated and after three hours, my hands finally got too cold. Couple that with the conditions and time and it was a mighty fine opportunity to pitch the shelter and hit the hay. Take home message: bring shell gloves/mitts or a way to keep hands dry (& warm).
- The GoLite Shangri-La 3 slept all three of us with just enough space to sprawl out, except for the driving rain night, when we had to hunker in a little to keep away from the wet nylon. Plenty strong and storm-worthy.
- We slept on our packrafts, which created a huge dry area, allowing us to lay out gear and clothes next to our bags and keep it all dry. The 2011 boats are even bigger than previous models, with the long tail, and work really nicely.
- 100% humidity, being showered by dripping condensation all night, and a very wet insulated jacket couldn't wet-out my Marmot Hydrogen 30 degree down bag. While it was unsettling to see the clumpy balls of down when I got into the bag, it was completely dry by morning, while being warm all night.
- As nice as the 2011 Alpackas are to sleep on, they're equally bad to sit in. The boat has an overall narrower design, which smashed my hips to the point of pain during and after the float. Both feet were crammed in the bow, one in front of the other as there wasn't enough room to wedge them side by side. The narrow dimensions also make the boat slightly tippier side to side, compared to the previous model. However, the tail is amazing. As Roman pointed out, it completely prevents bandersnatching. If you have an old boat, send it in to Sheri and have a tail installed.
- I'm a hiker and I like to go light, so carrying 7-10 lbs of floating gear is not cool unless there's enough floating to make it worth while or the route just isn't possible without it. But, if I am going to carry a boat, etc, I'm taking the biggest boat I can, as they are so much more stable and float through skinny water better, plus being idyllically spacious. Sure, it weighs a little more, but so not as much as the whole floating gear compared to my basepack weight.
- Last trip, I carried my trekking poles the entire time. This time, I left them at home. Never once did I miss them, because in my hand, instead, was my DSLR. With my hands free, I took 1200 photos in three days and even had the camera put away for 4 hours during the driving rain and 6 hours the next day while packrafting. The DSLR allows me to get shots that are straight-up impossible to get with a point and shoot, plus the quality is far superior. And since it's in my hand all day long, it doesn't weigh down my pack.

As I learned last year when J.R. & I attempted this trip, I may be out of school, but the education continues.

No Trekking Poles & The Most Expensive Firestarter in the World

I learned something this weekend. Fortunately, at no cost other than time and an altered plan.

Ascending 2,000+ ft of scree in the Eastern Brooks Range, Alaska. Bad idea, even though this section was easy. Ken Ilgunas Photo.

1. In this photo, two trekking poles, normally used for aiding in balance while travelling over rough terrain, are stored in my backpack. I have come to realize that even though I always bring two (used mostly as the support for my shelter), I rarely even use one. But, since I need something for the shelter anyway, I might as well bring them, for there are times when they're great and if I were to injure my lower body, they would help me walk out (this has happened to a few friends). Maybe I should get some collapsible sticks.

2. My $2500 camera is being carried in my hand and was then later used as an aid in gaining traction in loose scree. I didn't want to put it away, because then I'd miss a photo. Normally, I'd have my small point-and-shoot, but I just sold that to Ken, who I was hiking with. Needless to say, I felt at a loss for a pocketable camera.

3. After a few minor scratches on the camera's magnesium body, which revealed the shiny metal below the black finish, I realized I was carrying the world's most expensive firestarter (or at least, magnesium striker). If I ever REALLY needed to start a fire and had my DSLR, I could take my knife to it and light a blaze. [This is merely hypothetical, as I did not test this.]

4. Unless you can see a safe area or right where you want to be and it's not too high up, never, ever ascend an unknown scree slope.
  -The summit or ridgeline can never be seen from the base, unless it's a vertical cliff.
  -The slope never looks as steep or technical as what it truly is.
  -There are bound to be dangerous sections and high potential of falling/sliding to your death.
  -You could become rim-rocked on a grand scale, as the entire area you climb up to could be cliffed-out in all directions.

When we reached the top, we hiked for about a mile until realizing there were cliffs above and below us in every direction. On, along, and over the ridges, down the slopes, along the creek, and back the way we came. It took us 4.5 hrs to go roughly one mile as the crow flies. About an hour of that time was spent looking at the map & GPS and deciding how we were going to get ourselves un-rim-rocked. It took so long, I did some time-lapse photography as we hemmed & hawed over our predicament.

We finally got out to a safe area with great hiking and continued on with our new route back to the car, as we no longer had time to do the 40 mile loop originally planned. And, based on what we had seen thus far, we figured we'd run into the same situation at the two passes on the original route, anyway.

I'm in the bottom left corner, traversing a small cliff. Again, bad idea. Ken Ilgunas Photo.

Mount McKinley: A Summit Unbagged

'On March 11, 2011, two inexperienced Fairbanksans set off to walk from their car to the summit of Mount McKinley. Packed light to travel fast & far, the team snowshoed to 17 Camp at the base of the West Ridge, where they battled overflow & high winds. A depleted Nalgene-bottled oxygen supply and unconsolidated sugar-snow conditions forced the team to retreat without the glory of the summit.'

Brett Parks & I are just now going public with an attempt at the summit of Mount McKinley without a permit, flight in to the glacier, climbing registration, talking with rangers, etc.
I have to say our plan has possibly never before been attempted in winter: to snowshoe from the road to the summit & back in three days, sleeping at 17 Camp both nights. While we weren't able to make the summit due to the snow conditions, we did sleep at 17 Camp and had an awesome time, learning a lot in the process.

Here are the photos...

 

 

 

 









Did we fool you?!?!
We attempted the 4,000 ft Mount McKinley off the Steese Highway, northeast of Fairbanks!
Hence, the reason Alaskans call the real one Denali.  HA!!!

Nat Geo Alaska-Yukon Expedition Video

National Geographic created a YouTube video of Andrew Skurka's presentation of his Alaska-Yukon Expedition at the National Geographic Society. Great presentation that provides a lot insight into this trip and one of its scale.

Looking Back: Cowboy Camping

A photo from 2005, when I led a winter backpacking trip to the Superior Hiking Trail in Minnesota and back when people still used film in cameras. We slept out the last night on trail, high up on a massive cliff overlooking Bean Lake, under the stars and, then later, an unexpected layer of wet snow. Waking up at three in the morning, shivering from our damp & no-longer-warm-enough sleeping bags, we packed up and hiked back to the car, amidst the falling snow. I love sleeping outside, under the stars, with no shelter more than any other form of camping, but waking up wet and cold isn't fun. But were we disappointed with this experience? No... we woke up in the early morning and re-warmed ourselves with the 4 mile hike out in the dark, while the falling snow shimmered in front of our headlamps.

Skurka Stories and Photos & Final Denali Biking Video

You've got to check these out...
'Triple A': All Across the Gates
Guest Blog at Hiking in Finland
We were a Party Train on an Errand

And, the anticipated final cut of JR's Denali Park Road Biking Video is here!

Clothing System for Mt McKinley

Headed up for a three-day summit attempt of Mt McKinley, this weekend, on snowshoes.
With forecasted highs of 15 and lows to 35 below, here's how I plan on staying warm, as I will need versatility and the ability to wear it all together. (Footwear not pictured)

Thoughts on Next Summer

For many reasons, the summer of 2010 was full of many small, checklist-type achievements and demoralizing failed attempts at many adventures. For example, I drove or rode 8000+ miles with one friend and over 2300 miles sightseeing with my mom when she came up. But, I've had countless plan-changing or scrapping times that really made me lose my spirit. Fortunately, both of these types of experiences offered bountiful learning opportunities and changed my personal techniques and opinions.

I may not have slept comfortably, but I did sleep.
I may not have done many bush-trips, but I did a lot of road-trips.
I may not have done every trip on the list, but I did a list of trips.
I may not have done many multi-day trips, but I did multiple day trips.
I may not have executed each trip to plan, but I did get home safely & uninjured.
I may not have known everything before the trip, but I did learn what I needed to.
I may not have gone everywhere I wanted to, but I did go to a lot of places I've never been.
I may not have done an epic wilderness bike trip, but I did 100 miles in 29 hours and learned the tricks of winter biking.
I may not have spent a lot of time in my sleeping bag, but I did spend a lot of time with my dogs, friends, and girlfriend.
I learned, I taught, I lived.

Of course, it's nearing Winter Solstice, so yeah, I'm thinking about next summer and looking at maps with hiking eyes. For two years now, I've had my eye on the Arctic 1000. I don't have an interest in walking the entire route (600 miles) from Point Hope (or Kivalina, like they did) to the Haul Road, but the section from the Utukok River to Anaktuvuk Pass has got to be one of the most spectacular hikes in all of Alaska, competing with traverses of the eastern Brooks, Alaska, and St. Elias Ranges.
My job ends May 9, 2011. That gives me just under a month to train and prep, with no distractions, for a June 5-21 attempt, between the snow and bugs, at 320 miles across the Brooks Range, finishing on Summer Solstice in Anaktuvuk Pass.
Time to start planning, training, and as implied above, learning.
We'll see what I can pull off...

Long Overdue: Jan-Oct 2010

Too many photos to post here, so I put them on an online gallery.

Click here to see photos from adventures I've had so far in 2010.
It's been a fun time, as you'll see.

Thoughts from the Crest of the Alaska Range

On this last trip into the Alaska Range, I didn't bring a hat. A visor to shade the sun, but no hat. Not a light one, not a warm one. Instead, I used the hoods on my lightweight wool longsleeve baselayer hoody, wind jacket, insulated puff jacket, and rain jacket to keep my head warm and dry. It is super convenient because a hat needs to be either worn or stowed, while a hood is flipped on or off and is always there. Never once did I wish I had brought any sort of hat.

While I brought two trekking poles, I found myself carrying them the majority of the time and only using both for brief periods (uphill) or a specific instance, like stream crossing. In fact, they aggravated me more than anything, having to carry them for miles to have them ready if I wished, instead of stowing them in my pack. If I'm just going to pack them away, why not just leave them at home? When I did use the poles, I found one pole to be more than sufficient and actually preferable to two poles. The only time two were actually useful is when I was hiking very steep uphills and using the poles to catapult across streams. Maybe I'll just become a better hiker and guess what? My feet were already wet, so why bother trying to keep them dry? One pole. Decision made.

In heavy rains, a solid rain jacket is well worth its weight for comfort and dryness, although a super light shell that is truly waterproof and breathable can serve double duty as a shell and wind jacket, plus bug protection.

No matter what, bring two pair of wool socks. My one pair stayed wet for three days straight and neoprene river socks are not comfortable to sleep in.

Instead of bringing camp footwear, bring bread bags to slip over sleep socks to keep them dry when running out to pee in already wet shoes.

One shared sleeping bag is plenty large enough for a couple to share. I'd like to make a lightweight synthetic quilt for summer use. If sharing, use a bag rated to the temperatures you'll experience, as there is some inefficiency in sharing a bag versus zipping up and cinching down to blow hole size.

I cut the foam back support out of my GoLite Pinnacle, since I already use my light sleeping pad as back support. Turns out, it was a great idea. Weight saved and still just as comfortable.

Here's a thought... I've tried to cut nearly every single ounce off my hiking gear that is practical and still comfortable. Then, I throw in TEN POUNDS of packrafting gear. Hmmm... Maybe more thought regarding floating or crossing rivers for the route is necessary.

The denatured alcohol stove I made from a Fancy Feast cat food can boils two cups of water in five minutes or less and weighs almost nothing at 0.3 oz. Super simple and nothing to break. Thank you, Andrew Skurka!

A pair of super light long underwear bottoms is nice for sleeping and wearing if it's cold during the day and while packrafting on rainy days.

The long sleeves with thumb holes on my wool hoody worked well in keeping my hands warm in cool, damp, & windy weather, since I didn't bring gloves, either.

Loksaks are great for anything needing to stay dry, including TP, and are the lightest, reliable option.

Sharing is a great way to save weight and after having a group member lose a $100 knife and realizing I never even pulled mine out of my hipbelt pocket, it makes sense to share things between group members - like one knife.

The GoLite Hex 3 floorless shelter is great - in winds, rain, some bugs, etc. It's a little difficult to set up the hexagonal shape perfectly, but it offers a lot of interior space for spreading out gear and hanging out with the entire group in nasty weather. I've also yet to have any problems with mosquitoes in the floorless shelter, as they tend to stay up in the peak, where all the heat (and carbon dioxide concentration?) is. It can even be carefully set up with two paddles (shown above), allowing utilization of the entire area inside the shelter.

I use short Outdoor Research Flex-Tex gaiters to keep debris out of my sneakers. I see them as a necessity.

Beefy, durable trekking pants that can take abuse are so nice for bushwhacking and hiking in rocks, plus they tend to be wind resistant, coupling well with a wind jacket or double-duty light shell.

Spoons kick spork ass anyday. Period. Those teeth just don't clean up pots very well.

One large, main dry bag is all that's necessary for keeping gear dry, instead of messing with multiple bags and playing Tetris to fit them in to your backpack.

Using a superlight bivy helps keep your sleeping bag dry and allows a person to use a slightly lighter bag for the current temperatures and helps protect the sleeping bag from dirt, water, and physical abuse.

Last, but not least, nothing is better than a Nutty Bar covered in creamy peanut butter and Nutella. Not a Snickers, Whatchamacallit, or a Sindawg. Nothing.

The Education Continues...

So, the Coal, Wood, Glitter trip may not have worked out for various reasons as I'll explain below, but the time wasn't a complete flop. What JR & I learned in 4.5 days and 1500 miles of driving through Alaska is impressive, I think.
Here's my take on it all...

Before starting a big trip, do extensive research on the feasibility and safety of the route, including land ownership and activity (mining?), and talk to someone who’s done the route already and get their opinion and notes. Otherwise, do a scouting trip prior to the main trip, or just keep things simple according to what information is available.

Bikes are extremely beneficial to use for backcountry travel in nearly all mountainous environments, but they extremely complicate the trip to the point where they may not be practical for more than one night’s worth of travel, as they are very fragile and mechanically complicated. Breakages occur far too frequently for practical application of mountain bikes on extended backcountry travel, in my opinion. See Eric Parson's accounts of their Lost Coast, Wrangell Mountains, and 2010 AMWC trips, regarding the catastrophic failures they had. However, bikes were apparently built better back in the day when Roman Dial did his Hellbiking across the Alaska Range.

When going on a trip, plan for all possible types of recreation. For example, if going on a biking and packrafting trip, also bring hiking gear in case your plans change. On the attempted route, bikes proved to be impractical, but the route could have been hiked and packrafted in the time we had available. Unfortunately, we did not have quite the appropriate hiking gear to attempt the route without bikes, since we were originally planning on carrying all our gear on the bikes. This prevented the route from being accomplished, all together.

Packrafts were made for Alaskan rivers and backcountry travel. However, paddling on lakes without current for more than just a simple and short crossing is slow and strenuous, especially if there are headwinds, which is normally the case. Stick to current, mostly rivers, above class I, to make it interesting and appropriate for using a packraft.

Sleeping on packrafts allows for a simpler and more comfortable approach to packraft/raftpack camping, if executed properly. When sleeping on a packraft right side up (floating style), the raft should be inflated to 4-5 inflation bags worth of air to allow for a soft mattress and the highest amount of comfort. I used a Llama, although I am only 6' tall, and I slept very comfortably by laying inside the boat, with my head on the stern and feet propped up on the bow, almost similar to a hammock. Sleeping on the packraft upside down provides a soft, flat surface that is elevated off the ground, almost comparable to a quality cot. The raft should be deflated some (from full inflation) and lie flat on the ground when laying atop it (just soft enough to flatten out the upturned bow and stern). Remember that an inflated raft is more puncture resistant than a deflated raft used as a ground sheet. Be extremely cognizant of your campsite selection as to reduce the amount of abrasion on the raft as much as possible. Putting a sleeping pad on the floor greatly increases the thermal efficiency of the set-up and will allow more comfortable, longer lasting sleep in both raft scenarios. I could feel a significant difference between laying on the pad and off of it, where my feet happened to be. The two inflated packrafts were used inside of a GoLite Hex 3 shelter (one Llama & one Yak). Although it was tight, there was still enough room to set shoes, etc, between the rafts and have room for backpacks near the head and feet of the hexagonal shelter.

Sleeping bags are not necessary for travel during summer in Alaska’s backcountry. Clothing applicable to the current weather conditions is sufficient for sleeping when combined with a light bivy bag, in the proper shelter. We used our clothing, coupled with 6.5 oz ripstop/silnylon bivy bags, and slept on our packrafts under a GoLite Hex 3. The packrafts fit well in the hexagonal teepee shelter, which seemingly holds heat well. We were able to sleep for a full 8+ hours, most of which was almost too warm. Being too warm can pose problematic, though, as one would become damp from sweat and then cool far too much to remain comfortable. Sleeping bags, however, provide a great amount of comfort and security, which can also be lighter and more practical than sleeping in clothing only. After wearing clothing all day, in all weather conditions, the clothing can be damp and sleep can be challenging. We found the system of bringing just enough clothes for the conditions and a slightly lighter sleeping bag than appropriate for the conditions was the most effective and lightest technique when used together, as a sleeping system. This is the same findings and methodology that many adventurers on light and extended backcountry trips have agreed upon and found to be most effective.

Prior to going on an extended backcountry trip, test every piece of gear, system, and technique you will be using on the trip in a smaller-scale version of the same difficulty as the trip to be attempted. This is mandatory to evaluate the most practical and effective gear and techniques for accomplishing the goal to minimize problems and increase efficiency.

It has been commonly found that the standard u-shaped seat in packrafts puts pressure on the sciatic nerve in the hips/butt and causes legs to ‘fall asleep.’ I inflated a 2.5L platypus bag bottle and placed it in a drysack, strapped to the back/bottom of the u-shaped seat. This gave support from directly underneath my butt and decreased pressure on the sciatic nerve, completely eliminating the dead leg problem. Bottom line: I found that a flat or slightly contoured/flat seat is ten-fold more comfortable than the standard seat in packrafts and it eliminated the problem of my legs falling painfully asleep after only 45 minutes of paddling.

Sufficient rest/sleep is one of the most critical aspects of a trip to be able to perform at a competent and safe level, especially when in remote regions on a backcountry adventure.

Running a larger packraft than what is the ‘proper’ fit is very beneficial for increased flotation, stability, room, and I personally think the larger boats track better. However, one must adjust for the increased length by putting gear or an inflated dry bag under the deck in the bow or moving the seat forward and modifying the deck to compensate for the adjusted sitting position. Do this, and you'll be far better off than the standard fit model if you plan on running any larger whitewater. See Roman Dial's blog for modifications.

Being a resident of the Middle Tanana Valley in Interior Alaska, I’ve gotten used to the warm, dry weather and getting wet during a float, especially when day-boating, isn’t an issue, thus resulting in rain gear being sufficient in order to stay dry (at least to a degree). However, south of the Alaska Range (mostly around Anchorage and south onto the Kenai Peninsula), weather can often be cool and wet for days, plus much of the water is glacier-fed and cold. I’ve found this is where spray tops and dry suits would be beneficial to stay dry and comfortably warm.

Febreeze is a god-send for water shoes that go through the wet-dry process, which really can cause a nasty funk.

Denali National Park is apparently the only place in Alaska with a real population of brown or grizzly bears. I’ve seen some incredibly wild areas of Alaska, including the Kenai Peninsula, and Denali is the only place where I’ve seen a real habitation, although the salmon weren’t ‘running.’ I’d love to see otherwise, but have yet to.

An inflatable floor for the packraft is a huge advantage for running whitewater. After doing some shallow water butt-boating with and (unfortunately) without a 2.5 inch thick inflatable sleeping pad floor, I’ve come to love carrying the extra 11.5 oz for the benefits it offers. Not only does it stiffen and stabilize the boat, but it flattens the bottom of the boat and eliminates the sag created by your weight directly below the seat which can cause some serious dragging that is completely avoidable. Also, it raises you up in the boat, allowing for better vision on the water. This means a higher center of gravity, which is acceptable because it doesn’t give you the buried in the boat type feeling you get when only sitting on the stock inflatable seat. I like being up higher and feel more capable and responsive because of it. The inflatable floor principle is exactly why a flat-bottomed jet boat performs better than a v-hull in shallow water boating. Your packraft will be flatter & stiffer, with less drag & better visibility. Well worth the weight.

Fleece is awesome under a spray top, drysuit, or just rain gear for insulation. It’s soft, gives that under-the-covers type comfort, and retains its loft well, plus it’s fairly warm for its weight when layered under a waterproof layer. I’d much rather run a fleece under my spray top or drysuit than an ultralight, thin poly fill jacket, exclusively for the comfort, even if it is an ounce or two heaver. How much is that comfort worth to you? Only hiking and no boating? Then, I prefer to carry synthetic insulated jackets any day.

I took the handles off my titanium 1L pot and found it to be more user-friendly than with the handles on. The flip-out handles would often get in the way when packing and were more of a nuisance. The titanium loses heat incredibly fast and if just moving the pot from a fire or off the stove to the ground, handles are best left at home. Melting snow and pouring food, etc? Maybe think otherwise.

When trying to go fast and light, a butane stove is absolutely worth the weight for its sheer speed of use. While denatured alcohol ‘cat stoves’ are far simpler in design and fairly fast, plus super light, they are more finicky and complicated in their use, super susceptible to wind, and slower than butane, which is functionally simple in the can and burner, with not a whole lot to break or have problems with (above freezing). I like simplicity, but simplicity in function can be more important than simplicity in design, depending on the application. How often have you heard of a high-quality butane stove breaking or not working?

As a professional photographer, I know what good picture quality is and I’m quite the snob about it. I also know that a big and heavy SLR is best carried in a backpack, exactly where it can’t take photos. This is why I’ve come to love my new Sony Cybershot TX-5 because it’s waterproof and takes awesome quality photos, plus has amazing features that make it a true 2010 camera, unlike some of the other waterproofs that you’d swear were from 1998. Not only do I take way more photos with it, but at ¾” thick, I can store it in the front pocket of pants or napoleon pocket on a jacket, and also strap it to my helmet with a Gorillapod for taking 780p video while packrafting. Get one. You’ll love it.

This is what I've learned in less than one week of adventure travelling.

I may be out of school, but the education continues.

Coal, Wood, & Glitter Route

Coal: Usibelli Coal Mine in Healy
Wood: Wood River
Glitter: McKinley Park, aka 'Glitter Gulch'

July 16-19/20, hiking & packrafting, maybe with mountain bikes. 75 miles.
Includes the tail end of the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic route from the Wood River to Glitter Gulch.

Photoshop in Real Life

This photo was taken in color at the terminus of the Gulkana Glacier and has not been altered in any way.
Dull, glacial silt covers everything, including the vertical wall of solid ice on the left, making my backpack
and jacket pop against the dreary moonscape.

I've got the June bug

It's a good time to be in Alaska.

Since Memorial Day, I have been busy:
- biked over half the Denali Hwy & drove the rest
- driven the entire Dalton Hwy, past the Arctic Circle, through the Brooks Range & over Atigun Pass, the highest pass in Alaska, and across the entire North Slope/Coastal Plain
- packrafted a small creek in the Arctic
- taken the bus in Denali National Park to Eielson Visitor's Center, seen Mount McKinley on a clear day, saw a lynx, two wolves, over a dozen grizzlies, caribou, & moose, hiked on the Savage & Teklanika Rivers
- went up a still-frozen creek and did some small scale ice climbing, rappelling, and frozen waterfall exploring
- hiked the 27.5 mile Pinnell Mountain Trail in just over 15 hours
- identified nearly one hundred blooming wildflowers
- seen multiple new species of birds (on my life list)
- watched the sun set for less than an hour
- popped one blister on my big toe :)
- was in the office for 1 day out of 13
- scored 10 straight days off work in July
- and, most importantly, taken some awesome photos, which I'll get around to posting soon.

Early morning hiking on the Pinnell Mountain Trail

Memories from the Tombstones

Lucas, a college buddy and past multi-trip partner, came up to Alaska to go on an epic backpacking trip with me in the Tombstone Mountains of the Yukon Territory, Canada, during August of 2008.

Here are the photos.