Hey Folks,

One topic I thought I might write about here that readers might enjoy has to do with navigation; every backcountry traveler has  had issues with getting lost, even if only briefly, and being unsure of direction. So we learn how to read a compass and topographic map. And w learn how to pay attention to our terrain and landscape. We learn about geology and landform features to help us navigate. We learn how to pay attention to the sky, and the sun. Some of us even look skyward after dark and learn to read the constellations.

More recently, we’ve acquired and learned GPS technologies, for pinpoint accuracy, and for better navigation in adverse situations (clouds and fog, flat, featureless terrain, etc).  But even this amazing GPS stuff is years old now. So what’s the “new” navigation technology?

On a recent sojourn down around the Malaspina Glacier and along the coastal reaches of Wrangell – St. Elias National Park, I looked around at the available topo maps before setting out. They really aren’t so great. They’re old and the landscape in such a dynamic region, with a crashing coastline and an ever-changing glacier, is different year to year. The topos didn’t seem like the way to go.

But what DID seem to be a good call, and turned out to be a super-helpful tool, was google earth. Here’s the kind of thing we printed out:

Malaspina Glacier coastline, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park, Alaska. Click on the image here for a much larger version of the photo.

So we printed out a handful of these “aerial photos” and that’s how we navigated and found our way around. It’s not perfect, and it’s not foolproof, but the imagery is a lot more current and useful than a topo map here. I carried both topo maps AND the satellite imagery, and the topo maps simply stayed in my pack the whole trip.

I hadn’t tried using imagery like this to navigate with before, but it worked out great. The satellite photos showed us a lot about the ground; the forest, the brush, etc, and were a great tool to have along. Where is water, what water is clear versus glacial silt, and so on were just a few of the things these images help with. Add a scale, and they’re a very helpful resource. I wouldn’t use them in all situations, at all, but nor are a GPS or compass/topos perfect in all situations either. Tools are contextual, and in this situation, there was no better tool for the job than these google earth photos.

Give it a try.

Cheers

Carl

Hig (carrying Katmai) and Erin (carrying Lituya) walk along the shore of a small lake at the edge of the Malaspina Glacier, looking north toward Mt. St. Elias and the Saint Elias Mountain Range.Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Here’s another shot from the trip recently down along the coastline. This photo was one of my first days on the hike with hig and Erin, and their 2 children Katmai (wearing his “Prince-pants”, and carried here by Hig, on the left) and Lituya (whom Erin is carrying). What a treat it was to be invited to join this great family on their adventure! So, on this particular morning, we wanted to go and explore the edges of the Malaspina Glacier, and enjoyed a gorgeous morning hike up over the moraine and out on to the ice. The farther reaches of the glacier provided spectacular views of nearby Mt. St. Elias (pictured) and the Saint Elias Mountain Range, and the amazingly expansive view over the Malaspina. Incredible place.

It was really cool to hike with Erin and Hig, both accomplished backcountry travelers, but particularly to do so and accompany them with their 2 young children. Katmai is nearly 3, and Lituya is about 8 months old. Toddlers like this are always fascinating, but watching such young kids experience the wilderness was great fun.

What struck me most, I suppose, was the thought of how great it is that 2 young parents are here spending 24 hours a day with their children. Not too many parents do I know, or know of, ever do something like this, and it was really fun to observe. Almost every waking moment of their day Erin and//or Hig engaged their children, for 2 months. The kids had a blast, especially young Katmai, who soaked up the beach, the mountains, the views, the dirt, my peanut butter, any chocolate within a half mile, and the sunshine whenever he could.

Certainly, there was some “enduring” going on from time to time, but oh so rarely. For the most part, everyone simply enjoyed being in the backcountry. Good times all around.

We spent a few days in this area, then packrafted across this lake, hiked over the moraine, boated back down the next river to the beach, and then hiked the coast east to meet up with 2 other folks, Sam and Michael, for more adventures. I think my favorite area to explore was the grand old Sitka Spruce forests along the beach; absolutely amazing trees, mosses and vegetation in this dark and silent world. Silent, yet pounded by a mighty surf just outside; it’s a weird experience, hearing both silence and crashing, breaking waves pounding the shoreline simultaneously. Beautifully odd.

Erin and Hig and the family are still down in the area as I write this, but returning soon, and I’ll look forward to hearing from them about the rest of their trip. I had a great time with them, and will post a few more images from the trip as time permits.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers

Carl

Setting out for a month long backpack along the coastline of Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Wow; what a cool trip this last one was. A month along the coastline and borders of the Malaspina Glacier in Wrangell – St. Elias National Park’s southeastern reaches.

This photo is my first night on the beach, right after the air taxi departed, I shouldered the heavy pack, posed for an image, and set off down the beach to find a campsite. Dark comes quickly this time of year in Alaska.

I caught up with friends Erin and Hig from Ground Truth Trekking, and their 2 kids Katmai and Lituya, the following afternoon. I spent most of the rest of my trip with them, and then the last 10 days or so in the Icy Bay area, trying to get a nice sunset photo of Mt. St. Elias from that area. Seemed like things were still getting going when before I knew it, the month was over and I had to fly back to the city. Time flies, eh?

We backpacked a good chunk of the coastline, and packrafted some of the rivers and lagoons in the area. The Alpacka packrafts are a great way to deal with big water, and allowed us to cover quite a bit of ground more easily. I’m still trying to figure a way to bring some packrafting into the sumer trips; it’s really a valuable tool to have in the field up here.

I think my favorite part of the trip, though, was poking around in the old growth Spruce forests along the coastline; mighty, moss-covered Sitka Spruce trees, and centuries old bear trails on the forest floor. What a wonderful experience it is to hike through that landscape.

Fantastic trip. I’ll try to post some more images and information about the hike soon.

Cheers

Carl

A snowy campsite on the high alpine tundra of Wrangell - St. Elias National Park. Termination dust covers the ground, or fresh fall snow, and Mt Jarvis (13 421') of the Wrangell Mountains stands dominating behind. Backcountry campsite, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. On a backpacking trip in September. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey folks

A lot of people heading to Alaska inquire about the “best” sleeping bag to bring; i.e., what temperature rating to bring. My recommendation has always been for a warmer bag than many people typically expect. My advice for a summer bag in Alaska is 20deg F, (about -6deg C) and no warmer.

That is, 20deg Fahrenheit minimum! don’t bring a 32deg F bag (0deg C).

Surely it’s not going to be below freezing in July, I hear folks respond?

Well, hopefully not. But it certainly can be, especially if we hike up in the high country at all (which we typically do, because that’s where the views are, and where the brush isn’t). And the altitude needn’t be that high; 5000 feet is alpine country in Alaska.

But the reasons for a warm bag go beyond merely snow and cold. Some folks will say they’d rather bring a warmer bag, like a 32deg F bag, as it’s lighter weight, and they can always wear extra clothes to bed if need be. They’ll be bringing warm clothes along anyway, right? Sometimes, this is true. But there can easily be times when it is not true. How about your fleece jacket is wet? Or you lose it (yes, I’ve seen that happen)? 

It matters not, in my opinion, how often this might happen. It matters more that you’ll be cold without it. I simply don’t ascribe to the view that cutting weight is everything in the backcountry. Staying warm and sheltered is ALWAYS #1.

On a weeklong trip to the backcountry in Alaska, you can’t simply hike out if the weather’s cold; especially if you do a fly-in trip. On a remote journey in to the wilderness, your sleeping bag is your last refuge against the cold. It’s the most shelter you can expect to have.  I don’t want to be squirming around in my bag trying to find that warm sport, and wriggling my toes because they’re chilly. I don’t want to lose sleep because I couldn’t QUITE get comfortable.

What I do want to do, even if it’s blowing a blizzard outside, is hunker down inside my tent, batten down the hatches, crawl inside my sleeping bag, and sleep soundly. If my last pair of socks got soaked thru on the hike, I don’t want to rely on them for my comfort at night. That’s the job of my sleeping bag, and my socks, my down jacket, my fleece hat, etc are there in case that’s not available. Those are the backups for emergency situations. My sleeping bag is not an item I’ll quibble over a few ounces about.

Some people feel the cold far, far more than others; often women feel the cold much more than men do (or at least than men SAY they do). If you’re one of those people who feel the cold, you could easily be cold sitting around camp in your fleece and down clothes, your hat and gloves, and that sleeping bag is where you head to be cozy. Bring one that is up the job. My advice is to go for 20deg Fahrenheit, at most … and don’t shy away from a 10 or 15deg bag, or even lower. I’ve seen people bring a minus 10deg bag on a trip, and be glad they did.

Your sleeping pad makes a big difference as well. I’ll write about that another time. Just be sure your bag is up to the task.

Be warm, sleep well, and enjoy the night, for tomorrow you could be wet and cold all day long.

Cheers

Carl

Snowshoeing and backcountry skiing in the Mentasta Mountains, winter, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Another photo from a winter trip; this one to the Mentasta Mountains in Wrangell – St. Elias National Park and Preserve. My favorite mode of travel; snowshoe up, and ski back down. It’s worth bringing the extra gear!

Heinous wind – Yikes!

Cheers

Carl

Winter in Alaska. The Viking Lodge Cabin, a public use cabin in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, makes a fantastic getaway for a winter trip. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks

Here’s a shot of one of my favorite places in Wrangell – St. Elias National Park and Preserve; Viking Lodge Cabin. The cabin is not far off the Nabesna Road, which is nice; accessible. Unlike most public use cabins in the park, this cabin requires reservations, though that also means when you arrive, you know ahead of time you don’t have to share the cabin with anyone else who might show up. There is no fee to use the cabin, which is nice. It’s quite a treat, being able to head out in the winter and have a cozy, comfortable cabin to relax in.

An old barrel stove sits in the middle of the cabin, and warms the cabin pretty quickly, even in the depths of winter. It makes the world of difference after a day out in the mountains, skiing or snowshoeing, to come back to a warm cabin, rather than a cold tent. Perhaps in the morning it makes even more difference, waking up and having a nice warm pair of boots sitting by the cabin, rather than crusty frozen boots outside the door. 

Viking Lodge Cabin was built in the 1970s, as a private, summertime residence, and the National Park Service renovated it in 2000. It’s in great shape, has an outhouse nearby, and a great view out the large window of Mt Sanford. Available year round, the cabin is really a treat in the winter. It’s only a 1/4 to half mile off the road, which means it’s easy to lug gear in; some of the other cabins are quite a bit further, making the jaunt in quite a mission.

The NPS suggests the cabin sleeps 4, but it can easily hold, comfortably, a few more. There are only 2 bunks (bring your own sleeping pad), but plenty of floor space, and a great big loft. Just be sure to not overpack your sleeping bag if you want to sleep upstairs (or even on the top bunk); you’ll roast, with even a small fire. There’s no bug screen on the door, so you won’t want to leave the door open to cool the cabin down if you’re there during the summer.

If you do decide to stay in the cabin, please, please, please don’t leave any of your gear behind. People seem to think ‘Oh, I’ll just leave these batteries/this candle/this book/etc behind and someone else can use it’. The cabin quickly accumulates all your crap. Pack it in, Pack it out, folks. And lastly, PLEASE don’t leave the cabin bereft of wood. By all means, use the wood in the cabin when you arrive, but make an effort to go gather/cut wood before you leave, and make sure there’s plenty of wood cut for the next visitor. I try to make sure I leave more wood than I used, and I think is a good approach. Arriving at a cabin in the dead of winter, at 40below Zero degrees, in the dark, only to find the last folks didn’t leave any wood behind, isn’t a great start to a trip.

Park regulations allow you to cut dead trees, or gather/cut any dead down wood you find. Do not cut any green trees. I’d suggest you check with the Ranger Station at Slana before your stay if you’re not sure about any of this. You can also buy wood in the area.

There are a lot of great hiking/skiing/snowshoeing options in the area, so be sure to allow a few days at least. And at least one day to spend sipping coffee by the fire, reading a good book, enjoying the view of the mountain out your window. Viking Lodge Cabin is really a little gem in the woods. And the best thing about a winter trip? It’s no problem to bring a pint of Ice Cream (or several). Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk, to be specific. Mmmhhhmmmmm!!!! Enjoy.

Cheers

Carl

Backpackers crossing a creek in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska.

Hey Folks,

One of the more challenging aspects of an Alaskan backcountry trek is river crossings. With the exception of the occasional Kenai Peninsula hike, all of these treks are off-trail, wilderness backpacking trips, and so there’s no easy way to get across the streams, creeks and rivers that meander through the mountains. A few tips that can be useful to heed:

1) For smaller streams, I prefer to cross one person at a time. If by chance someone in the group does stumble, it means we have one wet person to deal with. Everyone else in the group is safe and secure on shore. Things unravel quickly in the backcountry, and that happens most often when something small goes wrong. One person stumbles, takes a dip, someone else reaches to grab them, they go down, knock their partner off balance, and all of a sudden bedlam results. That’s how people get hurt. It can also mean everyone gets wet gear. A much simpler problem to deal with is getting one person out of a creek, drying them off, and loaning them some warm, dry gear that another person in the group has in their pack. One person falling is a hassle – a group falling can be a disaster.

2) For anything over knee-high, unbuckle your hip belt and sternum strap on the backpack. Often these creeks and streams are fast, and the power of rushing water can be hard to struggle against. Compound that with the silt and glacial silt that is typically in the rivers here, and your backpack can become a led weight before you know it. What seems like a manageable load on your back is not so manageable if you’re upside-down in a rushing stream, and the backpack getting heavier by the second. Worse still, lying facedown in a rushing stream is NOT the time to try to undo your hipbelt and and get your pack off your back. Undo those buckles BEFORE you get in the water (see the photo above).

Similarly, rain covers go on the backpack before crossing. If you lose your balance and tumble, that small procedure can keep a whole bunch of your gear dry. If the river looks a little more gnarly, dry bag your food, your sleeping bag and insulating gear as well — the old adage “a stitch in time” means something here.

3) Take some time to look around for a good crossing place. Often creeks and rivers that might be waist deep become braided and shallower right around the corner. I’ll spend 20 minutes at times walking upstream or downstream or both looking for a good crossing spot. It’s WAY too easy to feel rushed, and just say ‘well, this place is as good as any’. The chances are very high that this place is NOT as good as any. Slow down, take some time out, and look for the best place to cross. Walk along the shore, and check the lay of the land before you arrive at the creekbank; oftentimes you’ll see a good spot to cross from a distance, and change your approach to arrive at the better spot.

And a good spot to cross means more than shallow water. It means a good easy entry into the water, a nice easy exit, not a steep, wet rock, or wall of brush, or means ‘good water’ downstream in case someone swims. You don’t want any ‘strainers’ in the creek, submerged or partially submerged brush that can easily hold a swimmer under water.

4) Don’t be afraid to drop your pack off, and have the strongest hiker (and swimmer) in your group test the depth and feel of the water without a backpack on. These glacial melt waters can be absolutely impossible to gauge depth visually, so you’ll need to wade in. Use your hiking poles (you ARE carrying hiking poles, right?) and test the depth ahead of you as you go.

5) Watch carefully for holes – it’s easy to be caught, thinking ‘this isn’t too deep’ and have the ground suddenly drop away beneath your feet. Fast rivers and creeks can easily dislodge a boulder or similar and leave a big hole on the riverbed that you won’t see, but will disappear under when you step into it.

6) I prefer to cross in sandals, tennis shoes, crocs, or similar, and keep my hiking boots (and socks) dry. Don’t cross in bare feet. If you wear crocs, add some security by tying them on. In a fast creek they’ll easily wash off your feet when you raise your foot. But, with reasonable precautions, they do make great creek crossing footwear. Or try the Trailbreak – a more sturdy version of the croc. Do NOT carry your boots in your hand – that’s a disaster waiting to happen. Tie them securely on to your backpack, not over your shoulder, etc.

Safely crossing a creek in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Excellent form, shoes tied safely on to the pack, backpack buckles undone, small steps, good use of the trekking poles. 10/10!!!

7) For rushing deeper rivers, I find crossing in couples or trios works well. More people gets a little unwieldy and the group moves too slow. These rivers are C-O-L-D!!! Have 2 people together, the stronger on on the upstream side, using 2 trekking poles and locking elbows/wrists is a good idea. For 3 people, I prefer the ‘triangle’, with the stronger person again on the upstream side. Some folks like to form a circle, and cross with all hikers facing one another; whatever method you do, undo your backpack buckles, and practice the movements a bit before you enter the stream. Even a quick 30 second practice on land can make a big difference.

Wait til morning. Typically, these rivers and creeks subside over night, as they’re glacial fed, which means the water levels drop when temperatures cool down. Set up camp somewhere nearby, make an early start, and cross before the heat of day lifts the water to more dangerous levels.

9) Go back. River crossings can be dangerous. If you (or someone in the group) are uncomfortable with the crossing, go back. It’s simply not worth it. You’re in Alaska – your trip doesn’t hinge on being on the other side of some river. There’s plenty of cool stuff to see and visit on this side of the river.

10) Face slightly upstream. Don’t “force” the crossing, but move with the current, tread carefully, and feel for good footing. Be careful. Take small steps and keep your center of gravity close. You’ll see some bad form in the video below, with one hiker reaching with his poles and taking larger, unstable steps. That’s a good way to take a swim.

I prefer to have someone in the group on shore at all times. I don’t like everyone in the water at one time, on any crossing. If somebody stumbles and needs assistance, the people crossing are NOT the best choice to help, in most cases. 9 times out of 10 that kind of thing means more people falling and stumbling. Get yourself safe, and keep the ‘victim‘ number low. The person on shore can more easily maneuver into position to provide assistance to swimmers. The person on shore should have their pack off, means even if they fall and get wet, their gear is dry. Dry gear in Alaska can save your behind!

I also don’t like ropes. Ropes and water don’t mix well. Ropes and water and brush and rocks and inexperience hikers mix generally very badly.

Watch the video below; you’ll see the trekking poles used, and also how slowly to cross. You can see we found, in the first one, a nice wide braid of the river to cross; we hiked alongside this river for nearly 1/2 mile before we arrived at this spot. In the 2nd, take note of the location again. Downstream is a nice shallower braided section. Also note that by carefully choosing where we start crossing, we have an easy entry, shallow water, no brush, etc, then one deeper channel, followed by a nice shallow exit. You don’t want to be waist deep in a flowing stream and have a wall of brush meet you at your exit point.

You’ll also notice I cross ahead of the 2 backpackers here, without a pack, and run a guide line for them to follow – they see where I went, and know to follow my line. Once I set off, I cross and stand on shore. Hypothermia sets in fast in water that’s barely above freezing – this crossing is about 1/4 mile downstream from the glacier that feeds the river. I’m on shore safe, slightly downstream of the hikers, where I can be of use if one stumbles. You’ll also see, as the 2nd hiker exits, the easy exit point, as well as the lack of any real threatening spots downstream. If someone tumbles, there’s no immediate rapid or hole they might get caught in just below our crossing spot.

Be safe out there.

Cheers

Carl

River Crossings from Alaskan Alpine Treks on Vimeo.

Shower Camp Camera Cover from Alaskan Alpine Treks on Vimeo.

Hey Folks

I thought this video might be both entertaining and useful to visitors to the website. Here, Andy Seeger shows off his fashion-sense and creative ingenuity with ‘Shower Cap Hat’ – a cheap workable solution to protecting your camera gear from bad weather on backpacking trips. Backpacking is ALL about compromise; weight, bulk and space, durability, multi-use, etc … these are things to consider when packing for your trip.

Rather than carry an expensive and heavier camera rain cover, a cheap plastic shower cap fits perfectly. it’s lightweight, packable, durable, light and easily available. What’s more, as Andy says, you can even get water with it.

This video was taken on our fall Skolai Pass Photo Tour. We hiked out to this high ridge from Chitistone Pass, overlooking the Russell Glacier, and spent the day here before a walk back to a pre-determined spot where we photographed the mountains at sunset from. Then a big hot meal of pasta and lots of chocolate for dessert wrapped a fantastic day.

Have a look at the webpage for the Skolai Pass Photo Tour – Skolai is an amazing place, and never fails to impress. I always look forward to a return visit to Skolai, and this year just as much as ever. I’ll probably even bring a shower cap – maybe not lime green though. Something a little earthier, perhaps?

Cheers

Carl

Backcountry campsite in the Chugach mountains, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve. From the Iceberg Lake to Bremner Mines trip.

Hey Folks

Here’s a short post with some tips for you on picking a campsite in the backcountry.  Why a post about picking a campsite? I think it’s useful because many folks overlook this part of a trip, as most people are (typically) so used to backpacking and hiking on trails in the Lower 48 states that it doesn’t really occur to them until it’s time to set up a tent. And by then, it’s too late.

Your campsite is your home, albeit ever so temporarily, and it’s well worth taking a couple of steps toward setting up home for the evening in a setting that you enjoy. Backpacking all day with a heavy load through rugged but beautiful mountains is hard work, and an important part of the trip, to us, is enjoying a great campsite. What makes a great campsite?

Firstly, it needs to be “low impact.” Essentially, low impact campsites are those that don’t leave undue stress on the landscape, or on other visitors to the park, both while you’re camped there and after you’re gone. There are a number of elements that are important, and I’ll stress a few of them here (this is not a comprehensive list).

Resilience of the ground underfoot to your camp. Camping is not merely a tent footprint. Camping often means, particularly in bear country, many trips back and forth from tent site to kitchen. With a group of even 4 people, that can quickly lead to  trails and travel sign on the tundra. Even all the most careful planning in the world won’t counter forgetting a jacket, or your gloves, or a lighter, etc; it’s amazing how rarely dinner goes by without someone having to make a trip or 2 back to the tent/backpacks to grab something forgotten; or grab a camera for that exhilarating sunset that always seems to happen while you eat.

A backpacking campsite on the Bremner to Tebay Trip, Wrangell St. Elias National Park, Alaska.

Fragile tundra can be damaged by heavy, stiff backpacking boots very easily. Even sitting enjoying your pasta fettaccini and scrunching around a little can damage the dryas (tundra); multiply that by 4 people and 2 meals, breakfast and dinner, and the kitchen can quickly become broken and torn underfoot. You might not notice it, but once you break camp and move on, the scars are left behind and clear for all to see.

Find hardy soil, rocky ground, etc. Move carefully back and forth to camp, don’t always use the exact same path, unless a social trail already exists. I believe it’s better to concentrate wear on existing trails than create new ones.

Secondly, try not set up right on a water source; this one, I think is more important in some circumstances than others. Smaller groups might be able to camp by a stream without leaving the same kind of impact as larger groups, and stressing careful camping practices around the area make a big difference. But the big issue is the volume of traffic the site may get. There are a couple of areas on some of our more popular routes that get more traffic during the summer backpacking season than others, and we’re always careful to avoid camping at those sites.

On the other hand, some sites might get used once or twice a season, and the area seems to bounce back well. If you DO choose to camp on a water source, take extra care to not pollute that source. The standard Leave No Trace practice for using the bathroom in the backcountry is 200′ from a water source, so we tend to set 300′ as a standard. Don’t cook and eat near the water source. Don’t wash dishes directly in the source. A swim and bath in a cool stream or tarn is an awesome experience in the mountains, and if you value it for yourself, value it for others – make the effort to not pollute and dirty the water.

Backpacking campsite on the Sanford Plateau, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Mt Drum towering behind.

The view: your camp is your home. Stop and spend the evening somewhere nice. One of things we pride ourselves on the most is killer campsites. Even on the exploratory trips, where we’re hiking the terrain unseen, we’ll typically hike an extra hour or 2 to find somewhere nice to camp. Getting up high is almost ALWAYS worth the effort. Nothing beats sitting on a high ridge with that great expansive view stretching down the valley beyond as you enjoy your cocoa.

If the weather is inclement, a suggestion is to save the climb for later, and hunker down low. Being exposed on a ridge isn’t a great option in a storm, and the view is typically not happening anyway. In such conditions, stay low, dry and warm. Save the hike up for a time when you’ll be able to see those distant peaks, and the sun lights up some high cloud from underneath.

On the issue of vista, do pay attention to your neighbors, i.e., both other hikers and wildlife. Don’t set up camp in an obvious wildlife corridor, or on a game trail, etc. Don’t set up camp next to an Arctic Ground Squirrel’s home, or close to nesting birds. Just as important, don’t set up camp on a trail or right alongside a route you expect other backpackers might be using while you’re there – unless you have to. But DO make the effort to camp out of the way, and not intrude your campsite on others’ experiences, both those who call the park/refuge home and those who are also visiting.

The last thing I’ll comment on here is campfires. I almost NEVER have a campfire in the backcountry any more. It’s rare indeed the times I have fire. When someone on a trip really desires a fire, and circumstances allow, or when a fire is good judgement, such as someone is cold and wet, we’ll have a campfire — BUUUUUTTT — we always make sure to use only dead and down wood, and remove as much sign of the fire as possible. Picking a spot for the campfire is a topic unto itself, so I’ll keep that topic short by saying be careful, take the time to know the regulations and suggestions from the relevant land management agency, and follow those.

Most often what causes problems is someone thinks ‘oh, I know the rules or protocols are x-y-z, but it’s just this once’. Well, that once follows someone else’s ‘just this once’, and precedes the next, and so on. Before you know it, there’s 4 or 5 fire rings within 100 yards of one another. Not to mention potential for starting wildfires. So if you’re out there on your own, do be careful, and respect the land you’re in. It’s good form.

One of the reasons I like the 1st photo in this post for this discussion is because it shows some of the things I’m talking about. You can see the water in the background, a good 100 yards from the tent ( a Mountain Hardwear PCT 1 – great tent!). The view is awesome, the terrain is solid and resilient, flat and comfortable for sleeping and you can see on the left hand side, a big, high ridge wall around the back end of the camp offers some shelter from inclement weather. One of my favorite campsites anywhere!

The other photos hopefully inspire you to spend some time finding a good campsite – it’s your home!

Remember: Great Campsites are Found, not Made.

Cheers

Carl

MSR Hubba tent, campsite in Chugach Mountains.

Sunset over a tarn, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park, Alaska.

Camping on the tundra, Denali National Park and Preserve, Alaska.

Sunset over Hanagita Peak, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska.

Hey Folks,

I’m super excited to announce the 2008 Canning River Rafting trip in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, or ANWR this coming July. We’ll be leaving Fairbanks on June 29, and don’t return until July 14 .. 4 solid weeks of exploring and traveling in the arctic is hard to beat. Room is a premium on this trip, so it’s wise to get in early. 2 people are already booked, and we won’t have more than 5 people on this trip, plus 2 guides (if the trip is full), so definitely start making preparations!

The trip will include flying into ANWR, to the headwaters of the Marsh Fork, in the heart of the Brooks Range, just on the north side of the Continental Divide. The Upper Marsh Fork is pristine mountain terrain, and we’ll spend some time exploring and hiking the peaks and valleys to see more of this region as we make our way north. After a couple of days we join up with the Canning River, continuing through the Brooks Mountains – spectacular country. We go through 2 very cool canyons; they’re short but really neat little canyons. Sometimes Dall sheep are in the area, and caribou, grizzly bear, wolves and wolverines too!

Gradually, as we wind our way north, we reach the coastal plain, which is seemingly endless. The Canning and the Staine river (pronounced Steen) lead us to the coast, where we’ll see the arctic ice pack, just off shore, the Beaufort Sea and Arctic Ocean. We’ll visit the renowned Bird Camp, and hopefully get some great opportunities at photographing migratory birds that visit the area, including tundra swan, shorebirds, sea ducks, loons, and maybe even snowy owls. Arctic foxes and red foxes are in the area, and we’ll also see arctic terns as well. The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge is famous for 2 herds of caribou, the Porcupine Caribou Herd and the Central Arctic Herd, and we have a good chance of seeing either as they make their way along their migratory routes.

We’re allowing plenty of time for this trip .. so we won’t be pushed for time, we’ll have lots of free time for hiking and photographing and exploring along the way. We’ll try to get around in the best hours for wildlife viewing and landscape photography, as the midnight sun allows 24 hour travel. A trip to ANWR is always a treat, and I can’t way for summer to roll around and to get back up to this incredible place.

Rafting is the way to travel in ANWR, we’ll cover lots of ground with little effort, there are very few rapids at all, it’s a great float down the river. We will do some hiking on both the coastal plain and in the mountains, but with the raft we can get ourselves and all our gear over 100 miles northward with far less effort than a regular backpacking trip would require. Campsites abound along the way, and we’re sure to have a blast. The weather in the high arctic is typically dry during the summer, so it’s a trip that’s hard to beat. Contact Alaskan Alpine Treks for more information.

Cheers

Carl