Options
A Dream Lived: Arrigetch Peaks, Brooks Range, Alaska! Final Part!
The first part of this story can be found here:
http://www.dgrin.com/showthread.php?t=140589
My eyes came open at about 1:30pm that same day and my stomach commanded me to rise. Breakfast was a wonderful feeling to behold as was the rest of that day while we talked about the blur in our memories that was Shot Tower and made sure we didn't move further then 100 yards from camp.
The day passed quickly and we were all soon back into our sleeping bags. Next day we talked about what we should do as the next objective and settled on Pyramid Peak. Pyramid Peak rose from the back of the valley out of a glacier lined in all sides by rock. Sounded excellent, unfortunately we wouldn't be climbing that peak on this trip. For the rest of the day we decided it was time for a little self cleaning. Which for some of us meant launching ourselves off a 25 foot cliff into a wonderful blue pool of glacial goodness. Hitting the water was an instant shock but it was great to get out and feel the warm sun on our skin. The day from there was a breeze of relaxation.
Eating in the morning was slow, we took our time getting out toward the peak because we had decided to bivy at the base after the rumored 6 hour approach. We took gear and our sleeping bags with us toward the peak. I was at least 30 minutes from camp before I realized I had left my climbing shoes in the tent and decided that I would just do the climb in hiking boots.
After a few hours of hiking we came to a glacier with rocks balanced precariously over the edge.
Brian ran ahead and said that he felt it was not to bad and Marcin climbed a ridge behind saying it wasn't going to be easy.
We really didn't come to do anything easy however so after some discussion Brian and Rob decided to try a small bit of slab to access the glacier and from there see if they can find a way up. None of us had come expecting glacier travel so we had left all crampons and glacier equipment at home, not that I would have wanted to add onto our already overloaded packs. After Brian had crawled his way over a few large blocks with Rob trailing closely behind those same rocks he used to ascend released their loose hold on the ground. Rob hopped nimbly downward in an interpretation of “Cirque de crush you with granite” and narrowly avoided another catastrophe. “F@#$ this I'm done.” Was all it took for us all to shake our heads in agreement. Nobody wanted to be the one who turned the whole group back. We sat staring at the glacier in different modes of agreement before we watched a rock as big as myself come crashing off the glacier ripping down one of the paths we thought would be a good route for ascent. It had barely found its rest before we were headed back. We stopped and did a short hike to the top of a small peak on the way back just to get some good views over the valley and all agreed that we were happy to have attempted the peak.
When we returned to camp I was very tired, I had awoken at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep thanks to the vivid dreams that seemed to pervade every inch of my sleep. So I dragged my sleeping bag by the fire and slept laid over an alder.
In the dream I was laying under granite pillars, the sound of rushing water melting into every sense of my being. The sun had crept off behind clouds which played with rain. Soon little drops of water were changing the color of my sleeping bag from blue to dark blue and each little drop sounded like it fell alone into an empty bucket. My eyes opened and I hadn't dreamt at all. Everyone was running about and the rain began to increase in intensity. I wondered why nobody had bothered to tell me and I ran to the tent to crawl back into my now damp bag. Shortly after the real dreams took me over.
It rained all night and was glad to see that the tent had held it all out. This seems like something you would expect since it is, after all, covered with a rainfly but there has been to many times of leaky tents for me to trust it simply on name. That morning I leaned over and unzipped the tent doors, by this time fully expecting the normal smoke and obstructed views. What I did see was a totally different valley. Suddenly peaks were protruding from everywhere. The blue of the sky gave me the impression I had fallen into the ocean where giants roamed about in granite wonder. I excitedly grabbed my camera and started to take pictures. Brian leaned his head and was able to mutter a “Oh Cool” before reentering his sleep state.
Normally I felt as though I had to crawl from the tent but today I was out in a flash. Feeling the energy of the sun lift me beyond the peaks as my camera shutter worked itself into a frenzy. The sun dipped behind a peak and suddenly a shadow appeared, this simple thing seemed so foreign. There hadn't been any shadows when the clouds and smoke were blocking the sun.
I giggled excitingly as I spoke “Lets go climb something!”
“Whats the weather like?” was the response I garnered from the yellow tent.
“Its amazing bluebird skies, sunshine, beautiful, amazing!” I could harldy contain my elation and thought for sure everyone would come bustling out of the tent any moment.
“Yea right.”
“Seriously!”
“If it is so sunny why is it so cold?”
“Were in the shadow of a giant mountain!”
Soon Marcin came out of the tent and looked around before saying a surprised “Its Beautiful!”. I nodded my head in agreement. We decided it was to beautiful not to go climbing and we settled on heading up the opposite ridge as we had before. It looked like a straight hike up scree, talus, tundra, and boulders but I don't think any of us expected what we got. The boulder hopping field seemed to go on forever. At times we would hike for 20 minutes before looking up and thinking “did it just get further away?”. It took hours to get to the top of the ridge and when we arrived Brian instantly spied a line that looked fun on a formation near to the Maidens. The Maidens are two peaks which sit side by side with rounded tops.
It is hard to know how many peaks got their names but some seem pretty obvious. The formation we approached was rounded at the base and much smaller then the maidens. Sitting on top of the round was a rather excited looking protrusion. It would come to be known as the Maidens Nipple, after much discussion.
Brian led the first few pitches of climbing up to a great ledge, both pitches of climbing were great and it was nice to be on unknown ground.
I decided to lead the next pitch so we switched over gear. Rob took a trip to the ridge to get a good view of the valley below so we decided to climb this odd formation in a 3 person party, because of rockfall one person would usually wait at a belay for a while so that the other two could climb and hook up a follow rope. I put a piece of gear in near the belay and climbed on the easy ground for a few feet, my mind hadn't yet warmed up to climbing today apparently as my legs began to shake. My grip seemed weak and all I could think of was the rocks that were going to come following me down as I fell to my belayers ledge. In reality this couldn't have been more then 8 feet away. Not really something to worry about but it can be hard to explain the way a brain works when climbing, today I felt nervous. I continued the climb over gripping most holds and nervously shuffling my feet until I came to an overhanging hand crack. Brian suggested that I move left along a large ledge and gain the ridge and after inspecting the possibilities I found that that it was easy enough to do so. This is, however, something that spoke into the back of my mind and asked “Are you going to really miss out on hand jams? You have the gear, give it a shot.” A minute later I had my hands cupped to increase my grip in the crack. I had put a piece of gear below at the start of the crack and now it was time to put in another. I reached down to my right to find the correct size and realized that I put them all on my left side. Unfortunately my left hand was doing all the work at the moment and every time I had reached for the gear with my right across my body I nearly fell from the wall. After a few moments thinking I climbed to what I hoped would be the end of the crack and large hold. I was rewarded as hoped and bellowed a “Jesus, that was hard!” before continuing to a good belay point. Brian agreed to the difficulty after he had followed and Marcin only looked at me with the response of “You are crazy” after he followed successfully.
The rest of the climb was a mix of traversing and down climbing which lead us to the final summit sitting over the Arrigetch Valley and allowing us all a view of the 30 pitch route that is on Central Maiden Peak.
We also were allowed something that seems not normally found in the Arrigetch, that is we were able to walk off from the summit and not use any slings or webbing for rappel. Thus began the slow and laborious trek back to camp. Everyone would eventually speak of aching knees and joints. It was hard not to when it felt like we were jumping inch by inch down the mountain, each time landing on unstable ground. At one point I ran down the edge of a rock and put all my weight into a boulder larger then my own bulk but that didn't keep it from tipping downward. Suddenly I was a little kid on the playground who pushed a bully, now he was rushing at me snickering “nanana na na boom thump”. I faced downhill and sprinted along on a few boulders before finding my way to safety and continuing the slog back to camp.
That night we sat around the camp and talked about names for the route and the formation. Eventually we called the route the South Ridge of the Maidens Nipple. Not having names for routes but instead just letters from the compass.
The next morning, after our 8th night in the Arrigetch we all moved slowly out of the tents and to the cooking area. It was another beautiful day with sunshine and blue skies although we all noticed that since the clouds had left, so did the heat. It was starting to get chilly and those of us with large coats were wearing them, in fact we were wearing them with a large smile hugging ourselves and humming “mmmmmmmm thats so warm mmmmmmm” so that the onlookers thought about how a simple knife slice would deflate our satisfaction. We were still a bit sore from the day before but it's just to hard to skip a beautiful day so Marcin, Rob and I grabbed some gear and headed back up toward Shot Tower to climb a chimney I had seen on a separate formation. We hiked the hour back up to the valley and I launched into one of the most enjoyable climbs I have had in quite a while. It was short and not very difficult but something about the situation and the place makes every climb in the area amazing. I climbed up to the chimney, slung a chockstone and lifted my feet high to the only foothold around. Then I lunged up and wedged my whole body into the crack. At first I couldn't quite fit and found I had prematurely launched headfirst, jamming myself in a very awkward stance. It took some finagling but soon I was able to continue from inside the crack itself. Large boulders lined the edge precariously perched upon one another waiting for the gentle touch to begin a not so gentle fall. After climbing the crack Marcin followed and I tried another harder crack to the left. After donating a good amount of blood to the granite gods I decided it wasn't going to go and I moved around it to climb a higher section. Rob scrambled around the formation with the enthusiasm of a child eating a popsicle. Marcin smiled looking graciously at Shot Tower and our other surroundings, if life could be better I almost didn't want to know about it.
The night fell and we fell with it, I had moved on from my book and now it was Brian who was engrossed within its pages. I felt euphoric and almost positive that I was awake, all made sense. I looked up at Brian and told him something along the lines of;
“Its better on the ridges.”
“What?” Brian looked confused.
“The ridges where we are.” Obviously Brian had forgotten that we were perched high on a ridge with other mountain people of lore who were depending on us to stay alert.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Whats going on over there?” It was Robs time to chime in, obviously he knows how important it is that we stay on the ridge!
After some more rambling where I am pretty sure Brian just gets tired of me and continues to read his book I still feel that what I am saying is correct even though I am now slowly coming to the realization that we are still on the same grassy knoll at the base of the valley. I drift back off to sleep with Brian's laughter at my obvious sleep talking the last thing I hear.
Marcin took the job of Head Fire Chief seriously as he tended to the pile of alders and smoke nearly all day. Brian agreed to some bouldering and we had a good time finding routes on the lichen covered boulder at the head of the valley.
Soon we were back to the fire watching the process. Put on sticks, blow, wait for flame, blow again, sit back and pretend it's warm. Near the end of the day Marcin decided to go picking for blueberries, which were a little tart but still tasty in oatmeal. It was a bit of a surprise when Marcin returned with a climbing rope that looked about 30 years old, and that it had come from Home Depot. He led us all back to what appeared to be an old cache of gear, we are not sure how old it was or how long it had been there but after some searching we guess sometime in the 70's. There were ropes, draws, glacier glasses, hob nail boots, pitons, and food strewn through the rocks and tundra; damn Krakauer. The holes in the cans gave the impression that there was food, before an animal got to it. We spent the remainder of our night pretending to be archaeologists, guessing the dates on equipment and looking for date clues on every piece of garbage. Thus ended our last night in the Arrigetch Peaks.
We had decided to hike to the first came, four miles down valley, and continue from there if we felt like it to a good place to camp for the night. So at noon we looked back at the place that became home and whispered our goodbyes. The hike was going well and soon we were back at the first campsite, everyone was doing well and had plenty of energy so we continued on. Miles passed below our feet as we continued on, usually in silence. The river had gone down significantly since we had arrived in the valley and that made going much easier along the creekbed. All the areas that had caused us issue on the way in were now much easier on the way out. After 7 hours of hiking we had come to within the last mile of camp. My shoes were dry, as were Marcins and one of Robs but that didn't last. This last section of river necessitated a crossing and so we dove in thinking “hey its been pretty easy going comparativly, lets just get this over with.”
We appeared at the river an hour later panting and covered in mosquitos, although I am not sure they could eat me through the sweat and tree's that stuck to my body. I looked at Brian and muttered “That was hell.” It was possibly the worst mile I can ever remember. Crossing swamps that went from dry to soaking, diving headlong into alders, walking tussocks, watching a Barbara Streisand special, nothing was enjoyable. In my small daily notes I put it as “Sucked Royally” and I can't think of how to better describe it now. At least we had finally reached our destination and wouldn't have to hike again before we headed out. The plane wouldn't be in for another day and a half so we spent the entire next day sleeping, reading, and generally enjoying the sunshine.
Dirk picked us up on the morning of the 14th where we would head back to Coldfoot and I would find I had lost 17 pounds. As we headed out we had our final glimpse of the valley which will stand stall and clear within all our dreams.
On a side note, if you are ever on the Haul Road and are near Yukon Crossing, don't forget to stop at the Hot Spot Cafe. A Boo Boo burger is where it's at. I got a double...it was incredible.
Well that's it for this Trip Report, I hope someone managed it all the way through!
http://www.dgrin.com/showthread.php?t=140589
My eyes came open at about 1:30pm that same day and my stomach commanded me to rise. Breakfast was a wonderful feeling to behold as was the rest of that day while we talked about the blur in our memories that was Shot Tower and made sure we didn't move further then 100 yards from camp.
The day passed quickly and we were all soon back into our sleeping bags. Next day we talked about what we should do as the next objective and settled on Pyramid Peak. Pyramid Peak rose from the back of the valley out of a glacier lined in all sides by rock. Sounded excellent, unfortunately we wouldn't be climbing that peak on this trip. For the rest of the day we decided it was time for a little self cleaning. Which for some of us meant launching ourselves off a 25 foot cliff into a wonderful blue pool of glacial goodness. Hitting the water was an instant shock but it was great to get out and feel the warm sun on our skin. The day from there was a breeze of relaxation.
Eating in the morning was slow, we took our time getting out toward the peak because we had decided to bivy at the base after the rumored 6 hour approach. We took gear and our sleeping bags with us toward the peak. I was at least 30 minutes from camp before I realized I had left my climbing shoes in the tent and decided that I would just do the climb in hiking boots.
After a few hours of hiking we came to a glacier with rocks balanced precariously over the edge.
Brian ran ahead and said that he felt it was not to bad and Marcin climbed a ridge behind saying it wasn't going to be easy.
We really didn't come to do anything easy however so after some discussion Brian and Rob decided to try a small bit of slab to access the glacier and from there see if they can find a way up. None of us had come expecting glacier travel so we had left all crampons and glacier equipment at home, not that I would have wanted to add onto our already overloaded packs. After Brian had crawled his way over a few large blocks with Rob trailing closely behind those same rocks he used to ascend released their loose hold on the ground. Rob hopped nimbly downward in an interpretation of “Cirque de crush you with granite” and narrowly avoided another catastrophe. “F@#$ this I'm done.” Was all it took for us all to shake our heads in agreement. Nobody wanted to be the one who turned the whole group back. We sat staring at the glacier in different modes of agreement before we watched a rock as big as myself come crashing off the glacier ripping down one of the paths we thought would be a good route for ascent. It had barely found its rest before we were headed back. We stopped and did a short hike to the top of a small peak on the way back just to get some good views over the valley and all agreed that we were happy to have attempted the peak.
When we returned to camp I was very tired, I had awoken at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep thanks to the vivid dreams that seemed to pervade every inch of my sleep. So I dragged my sleeping bag by the fire and slept laid over an alder.
In the dream I was laying under granite pillars, the sound of rushing water melting into every sense of my being. The sun had crept off behind clouds which played with rain. Soon little drops of water were changing the color of my sleeping bag from blue to dark blue and each little drop sounded like it fell alone into an empty bucket. My eyes opened and I hadn't dreamt at all. Everyone was running about and the rain began to increase in intensity. I wondered why nobody had bothered to tell me and I ran to the tent to crawl back into my now damp bag. Shortly after the real dreams took me over.
It rained all night and was glad to see that the tent had held it all out. This seems like something you would expect since it is, after all, covered with a rainfly but there has been to many times of leaky tents for me to trust it simply on name. That morning I leaned over and unzipped the tent doors, by this time fully expecting the normal smoke and obstructed views. What I did see was a totally different valley. Suddenly peaks were protruding from everywhere. The blue of the sky gave me the impression I had fallen into the ocean where giants roamed about in granite wonder. I excitedly grabbed my camera and started to take pictures. Brian leaned his head and was able to mutter a “Oh Cool” before reentering his sleep state.
Normally I felt as though I had to crawl from the tent but today I was out in a flash. Feeling the energy of the sun lift me beyond the peaks as my camera shutter worked itself into a frenzy. The sun dipped behind a peak and suddenly a shadow appeared, this simple thing seemed so foreign. There hadn't been any shadows when the clouds and smoke were blocking the sun.
I giggled excitingly as I spoke “Lets go climb something!”
“Whats the weather like?” was the response I garnered from the yellow tent.
“Its amazing bluebird skies, sunshine, beautiful, amazing!” I could harldy contain my elation and thought for sure everyone would come bustling out of the tent any moment.
“Yea right.”
“Seriously!”
“If it is so sunny why is it so cold?”
“Were in the shadow of a giant mountain!”
Soon Marcin came out of the tent and looked around before saying a surprised “Its Beautiful!”. I nodded my head in agreement. We decided it was to beautiful not to go climbing and we settled on heading up the opposite ridge as we had before. It looked like a straight hike up scree, talus, tundra, and boulders but I don't think any of us expected what we got. The boulder hopping field seemed to go on forever. At times we would hike for 20 minutes before looking up and thinking “did it just get further away?”. It took hours to get to the top of the ridge and when we arrived Brian instantly spied a line that looked fun on a formation near to the Maidens. The Maidens are two peaks which sit side by side with rounded tops.
It is hard to know how many peaks got their names but some seem pretty obvious. The formation we approached was rounded at the base and much smaller then the maidens. Sitting on top of the round was a rather excited looking protrusion. It would come to be known as the Maidens Nipple, after much discussion.
Brian led the first few pitches of climbing up to a great ledge, both pitches of climbing were great and it was nice to be on unknown ground.
I decided to lead the next pitch so we switched over gear. Rob took a trip to the ridge to get a good view of the valley below so we decided to climb this odd formation in a 3 person party, because of rockfall one person would usually wait at a belay for a while so that the other two could climb and hook up a follow rope. I put a piece of gear in near the belay and climbed on the easy ground for a few feet, my mind hadn't yet warmed up to climbing today apparently as my legs began to shake. My grip seemed weak and all I could think of was the rocks that were going to come following me down as I fell to my belayers ledge. In reality this couldn't have been more then 8 feet away. Not really something to worry about but it can be hard to explain the way a brain works when climbing, today I felt nervous. I continued the climb over gripping most holds and nervously shuffling my feet until I came to an overhanging hand crack. Brian suggested that I move left along a large ledge and gain the ridge and after inspecting the possibilities I found that that it was easy enough to do so. This is, however, something that spoke into the back of my mind and asked “Are you going to really miss out on hand jams? You have the gear, give it a shot.” A minute later I had my hands cupped to increase my grip in the crack. I had put a piece of gear below at the start of the crack and now it was time to put in another. I reached down to my right to find the correct size and realized that I put them all on my left side. Unfortunately my left hand was doing all the work at the moment and every time I had reached for the gear with my right across my body I nearly fell from the wall. After a few moments thinking I climbed to what I hoped would be the end of the crack and large hold. I was rewarded as hoped and bellowed a “Jesus, that was hard!” before continuing to a good belay point. Brian agreed to the difficulty after he had followed and Marcin only looked at me with the response of “You are crazy” after he followed successfully.
The rest of the climb was a mix of traversing and down climbing which lead us to the final summit sitting over the Arrigetch Valley and allowing us all a view of the 30 pitch route that is on Central Maiden Peak.
We also were allowed something that seems not normally found in the Arrigetch, that is we were able to walk off from the summit and not use any slings or webbing for rappel. Thus began the slow and laborious trek back to camp. Everyone would eventually speak of aching knees and joints. It was hard not to when it felt like we were jumping inch by inch down the mountain, each time landing on unstable ground. At one point I ran down the edge of a rock and put all my weight into a boulder larger then my own bulk but that didn't keep it from tipping downward. Suddenly I was a little kid on the playground who pushed a bully, now he was rushing at me snickering “nanana na na boom thump”. I faced downhill and sprinted along on a few boulders before finding my way to safety and continuing the slog back to camp.
That night we sat around the camp and talked about names for the route and the formation. Eventually we called the route the South Ridge of the Maidens Nipple. Not having names for routes but instead just letters from the compass.
The next morning, after our 8th night in the Arrigetch we all moved slowly out of the tents and to the cooking area. It was another beautiful day with sunshine and blue skies although we all noticed that since the clouds had left, so did the heat. It was starting to get chilly and those of us with large coats were wearing them, in fact we were wearing them with a large smile hugging ourselves and humming “mmmmmmmm thats so warm mmmmmmm” so that the onlookers thought about how a simple knife slice would deflate our satisfaction. We were still a bit sore from the day before but it's just to hard to skip a beautiful day so Marcin, Rob and I grabbed some gear and headed back up toward Shot Tower to climb a chimney I had seen on a separate formation. We hiked the hour back up to the valley and I launched into one of the most enjoyable climbs I have had in quite a while. It was short and not very difficult but something about the situation and the place makes every climb in the area amazing. I climbed up to the chimney, slung a chockstone and lifted my feet high to the only foothold around. Then I lunged up and wedged my whole body into the crack. At first I couldn't quite fit and found I had prematurely launched headfirst, jamming myself in a very awkward stance. It took some finagling but soon I was able to continue from inside the crack itself. Large boulders lined the edge precariously perched upon one another waiting for the gentle touch to begin a not so gentle fall. After climbing the crack Marcin followed and I tried another harder crack to the left. After donating a good amount of blood to the granite gods I decided it wasn't going to go and I moved around it to climb a higher section. Rob scrambled around the formation with the enthusiasm of a child eating a popsicle. Marcin smiled looking graciously at Shot Tower and our other surroundings, if life could be better I almost didn't want to know about it.
The night fell and we fell with it, I had moved on from my book and now it was Brian who was engrossed within its pages. I felt euphoric and almost positive that I was awake, all made sense. I looked up at Brian and told him something along the lines of;
“Its better on the ridges.”
“What?” Brian looked confused.
“The ridges where we are.” Obviously Brian had forgotten that we were perched high on a ridge with other mountain people of lore who were depending on us to stay alert.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Whats going on over there?” It was Robs time to chime in, obviously he knows how important it is that we stay on the ridge!
After some more rambling where I am pretty sure Brian just gets tired of me and continues to read his book I still feel that what I am saying is correct even though I am now slowly coming to the realization that we are still on the same grassy knoll at the base of the valley. I drift back off to sleep with Brian's laughter at my obvious sleep talking the last thing I hear.
Marcin took the job of Head Fire Chief seriously as he tended to the pile of alders and smoke nearly all day. Brian agreed to some bouldering and we had a good time finding routes on the lichen covered boulder at the head of the valley.
Soon we were back to the fire watching the process. Put on sticks, blow, wait for flame, blow again, sit back and pretend it's warm. Near the end of the day Marcin decided to go picking for blueberries, which were a little tart but still tasty in oatmeal. It was a bit of a surprise when Marcin returned with a climbing rope that looked about 30 years old, and that it had come from Home Depot. He led us all back to what appeared to be an old cache of gear, we are not sure how old it was or how long it had been there but after some searching we guess sometime in the 70's. There were ropes, draws, glacier glasses, hob nail boots, pitons, and food strewn through the rocks and tundra; damn Krakauer. The holes in the cans gave the impression that there was food, before an animal got to it. We spent the remainder of our night pretending to be archaeologists, guessing the dates on equipment and looking for date clues on every piece of garbage. Thus ended our last night in the Arrigetch Peaks.
We had decided to hike to the first came, four miles down valley, and continue from there if we felt like it to a good place to camp for the night. So at noon we looked back at the place that became home and whispered our goodbyes. The hike was going well and soon we were back at the first campsite, everyone was doing well and had plenty of energy so we continued on. Miles passed below our feet as we continued on, usually in silence. The river had gone down significantly since we had arrived in the valley and that made going much easier along the creekbed. All the areas that had caused us issue on the way in were now much easier on the way out. After 7 hours of hiking we had come to within the last mile of camp. My shoes were dry, as were Marcins and one of Robs but that didn't last. This last section of river necessitated a crossing and so we dove in thinking “hey its been pretty easy going comparativly, lets just get this over with.”
We appeared at the river an hour later panting and covered in mosquitos, although I am not sure they could eat me through the sweat and tree's that stuck to my body. I looked at Brian and muttered “That was hell.” It was possibly the worst mile I can ever remember. Crossing swamps that went from dry to soaking, diving headlong into alders, walking tussocks, watching a Barbara Streisand special, nothing was enjoyable. In my small daily notes I put it as “Sucked Royally” and I can't think of how to better describe it now. At least we had finally reached our destination and wouldn't have to hike again before we headed out. The plane wouldn't be in for another day and a half so we spent the entire next day sleeping, reading, and generally enjoying the sunshine.
Dirk picked us up on the morning of the 14th where we would head back to Coldfoot and I would find I had lost 17 pounds. As we headed out we had our final glimpse of the valley which will stand stall and clear within all our dreams.
On a side note, if you are ever on the Haul Road and are near Yukon Crossing, don't forget to stop at the Hot Spot Cafe. A Boo Boo burger is where it's at. I got a double...it was incredible.
Well that's it for this Trip Report, I hope someone managed it all the way through!
My Pictures can be seen at http://prezwoodz.smugmug.com
I Live at http://www.alaskamountainforum.com
I Live at http://www.alaskamountainforum.com
0
Comments
Reading this thread prompted me to find your Part I and complete the adventure. I loved all the awe-inspiring photos and your narrative.
And what photos they are! I cannot imagine carrying heavy camera gear on such a hike -- then again, if I were going there, I cannot imagine leaving it behind, either.
Thanks for sharing your journey with us.
www.morffed.com