Juneau, Sitka, and the Wilderness
On April 23rd I packed my backpack, left the Van in Skagway, and jumped an overnight ferry heading south. I camped out on the floor in my sleeping bag, along with a bunch of other people that didn’t want to spring for a berth, we fell asleep and woke up in Juneau – the Capital of Alaska. It was 5AM and I found someone to share a cab downtown. I arrived at the Alaskan Hotel a classic two hundred year old building with eclectic rooms that make you feel like you stepped back in time to the gold rush days. Showing up at this early hour, I surprised the night manager along with the hookers he was hanging out with in the lobby. He practically fell over himself trying to get me a room and shuffle me upstairs.
Juneau is a beautiful town nestled between the water and snow-capped peaks. I met up with two locals Chris and Dru at a bar one night and we got to talking and they offered to take me out the next day and show me around. We checked out the Mendenhall Glacier an impressive site within spitting distance of Juneau. It has a one-and-a-half mile face that flows twelve miles into a lake where pieced of itself calve into the chilly waters. We drove north to the “end-of-the-roadâ€, where the road, well, ends – Juneau being completely landlocked and all. We also visited the Shrine of St. Terese, a very cool Catholic chapel that sits on a small island connected to land by a small causeway. Large spruce trees cover the island and shelter the natural stone chapel that looks like it grew out of the ground by divine force rather then built by the hands of man. A spiritually harmonic place that leaves an indelible impression long after you’ve left its solitudenous shores. It was great to get the local take on things and hang out with a couple of super cool guys – Alaskans rock.
I jumped another ferry and headed off to Sitka – the spot where Alaska officially traded hands from Russia to America in 1867. There is a lot of old-world charm to Sitka with its interesting mix of Russian heritage, Tlingit Indian culture, and basic Alaskan simplicity; but I had come for a date with Mother Nature. I rented a forest service cabin in the remote wilderness of Kanga Bay about ten miles south of Sitka. The cabin, just a small A-frame, with wood stove, table, loft for sleeping and a pit toilet out back was set amongst spruce trees just off the beach in a sheltered cove. Davey Lubin another great Alaskan local that helped me plan my trip dropped me off in his boat on the beach with my pack and a kayak I had rented for the week. I waved goodbye, as Davey took off promising to come pick me up in a few days.
I kayaked everyday exploring the bays, coves, and inlets around Kanga and Redoubt Bay. Eagles sat in trees overlooking the water, waiting patiently for their chance to swoop down just above the water, talons extending reaching for their dinner. They would touch the water for a brief second, and then ascend confidently, a fish hanging from their golden legs. Curious harbor seals, poking their smooth brown heads up out of the water to studied me, following my kayak for some distance; they would disappear beneath the water only to pop up again a few moments later on the other side of the boat trying to figure out just what I was about. After five days, I got a lift to another cabin along the ocean west of Sitka at the base of Mt Edgecumbe an extinct cinder cone volcano.
The black sand beaches near the cabin where very dramatic, with waves crashing against hardened lava flows, and all manner of logs and things washed up on the beach from all around the world. I felt like a kid climbing over all the logs and poking through piles of natural debris as I combed up and down the beaches. There were always deer walking the beaches near the cabin and more eagles then I could keep track of. The cabin sits at the trailhead for one of the most amazing hiking trails I have ever treaded in all my life. The Mt Edgecumbe Trail, a fourteen-mile sea-to-summit-to-sea round trip, with a 3,200-foot elevation gain- done in a single day was one but kicking hike. The trail has recently gone through a million dollar rebuild project and it’s in pristine condition. The trail winds through large expanses of muskeg, the Alaskan word for bog, but never once does the hiker have to slog through mud up to their knees. In order to accomplish this feat the builders erected miles of boardwalk that sits on top of the muskeg, or laid out tons of gravel paths where more solid footing was available. It’s an amazing engineering achievement, miles from nowhere – with most of the heavy lifting accomplished by helicopter.
I flushed two sand hill cranes out of the muskeg about ten feet away, their large grey bodies nearly the size of a small deer, they moved impossibly slow as their wings worked to lift them airborne, all the while making the strangest whooping sound I ever heard. Saw many eagles circling overhead looking for a meal. I passed a month old bear kill on the way up, and on the way down found a fresh pile of bear scat right in the middle of the boardwalk – something that was definitely not there on my way to the top. I didn’t know whether to get out my camera or pepper spray. Even though bears circled all around me, I didn’t see a one on this trip. Oh well – I’m keeping my eyes open.
There is something about being out in the woods on your own, for an extended period with no distractions, no one to talk to, or talk to you. Your mind settles into a peaceful coexistence with nature, your body relaxes, and new thoughts and impulses come unbidden – a wonderful experience that I hope to repeat again soon. Davey Lubin picked me up after three more days, and I headed back across the bay to Sitka. On the way, we ran into solitary humpback whale that was feeding on the surface and I got some good pictures. We also saw a large raft of fifty or more otters all linked up and floating on their backs in a big line; some kind of otter shindig out in the middle of the bay – it looked like good fun.
I took the ferry back to Skagway, where I hung out for a few days and checked on the status of my missing coat and camera – no luck, and the prime suspect split down. Oh well, I have too much stuff anyway. Now, I’m working on this adventure update, rocking out to Nirvana, sitting in my van, which itself is located in the belly of a ferry getting ready to depart Skagway. This ferry should take off in an hour or so and drop me off in Haines. From there I will head north working my way a little deeper into the wilds of Alaska.
This is Matt signing off…