“
[We’ve] seen the Grand Slam—moose, caribou, Dall sheep, grizzly, wolves, and the great mountain too.”
it—moose, caribou, Dall sheep, grizzly, wolves, and the great mountain too.” We return to the Chalet by early afternoon, and I
book a glacier landing by helicopter. This fl ight crosses the high green taiga of the Alaska Range, over to the Yanert Glacier. En route we startle two grizzlies, surprise feeding moose and roaming caribou, and hover over a hidden waterfall worthy of Hawaii. Landing gently on a glacier ringed by serrated peaks, we enjoy a 20-minute scramble on the ice, drinking pure glacial meltwater from shallow cupped pools. Too soon we lift off into the early evening sky, and our return fl ight leads through a rain squall. The low-angle sun creates a circular rainbow that lingers and seems to travel around us, an ephemeral miracle of light and color. Now who in their right mind would choose to leave
a most comfortable room and warm bed to go rafting at 7:30 in the morning on a river that in midsummer warms all the way up to 37 degrees? That’s Farenheit folks, and reason enough to struggle into the dry suits provided and demonstrated by our skilled and person- able guides. Doug is our guide to this river world, and is as handsome as he is skilled at reading the best line through the rapids. The swirling water is the color of cement slurry, loaded up with fi nely ground silt, the resi- due of mountains, and freed once again to become the building blocks of continents.
The Nenana River offers Class II rapids, meaning
you will get splashes of icy water now and again, but are highly unlikely to go swimming on the too short 75-minute sojourn. Under a clean pure sky we paddle and then laze down the river, glassy calm between rap- ids. A lively breeze perks up across the river, sharpens my skin with a chill, even as the rising sun glints through a break in the canyon wall. Doug points out an eagle nest high above, just as a rogue wave slaps our faces, creating instant smiles and laughs. Another summer morning unfolds in Alaska, and still 11 hours of sunlight beck- ons to explore. My fi nal destination on this Alaskan sojourn is
Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Encompassing 20,000 square miles, this is the largest U.S. national park, with an area equaling six Yellowstones! Nine of the 16 highest U.S. peaks are here to climb, fl y around, or merely marvel at from afar on a clear day. A fair day’s drive brings me from Anchorage, along the
Glenn and Richardson Highways, to a paved turnoff lead- ing east to the tiny town of Chitina, and then along 61 miles of good gravel road dead-ending near the even tinier town of McCarthy. Though I have a tent for backup, I fi nd a cabin called “Moose in the Spruce,” 75 yards off the dirt road. It rents for $50/night and includes bunk beds that could sleep four, light breakfast fi xings, a propane stove, and a strong door to keep out curious bears.
A tufted puffi n fl oats warily off South Marble Island in Glacier Bay National Park.
28 EnCompass January/February 2011
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Hikers explore the preserved historic buildings of the Kennicott Copper Mill near Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.
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