The Denali Experience (Photos Included)
All photos Copyright 2005 - Benjamin S. Chase
From August 16 through the 24th of this year, I spent my time in Denali National Park. For 5 days and 4 nights, I backpacked in a variety of different "zones" in the park. The goal of this trip was to increase my stock of marketable landscape images.
Unfortunately, I was only afforded 1 day of good photography weather, and as a result, the number of publication-quality images was low. However, the experiences gained from the trip will endure in my memory forever.
With the exception of the first day, wildfire smoke obscured much of the visibility throughout the park.
To the right is a photo of my campsite taken on the 4th day, taken only a few hours before I was forced to endure a disturbing 2am pack-out, resulting from falling wildfire ash and light rain.
For those interested, here is the rest of the story:
The morning of August 21, 2005, I awoke to a light rain in what is known as backpacking zone 32, or more specifically, the upper Toklat river valley. I was between four and a half to five miles from where I was dropped off by the Denali camper bus at the Toklat rest stop. Not terribly far from civilization, but given the situation, it made a difference.
When I awoke that morning, it was to the unmistakeable sound of raindrops hitting my tent's rain fly. I glanced at my watch and noticed it was 2:48 am. I decided the evening previous, that I wanted to leave around 3am to get back to the Toklat rest stop, allowing me to catch the first bus that morning, around 9am, allowing plenty of time for the transit back. Anyone who has spent time in the area knows that river crossings are a fact of life, and being this is the Alaskan wilderness, there are no bridges to speak of, one must make their way through the shallower parts of the river. A misstep while crossing the river can leave you soaked in 37-38 degree F. water.
I emerged from my tent and quickly started breaking it down. The light rain continued to fall as I switched on my headlamp. Almost immediately, I noticed what appeared to be a very fine layer of dust covering my entire tent. Thinking that this was strange, I rubbed some of it between my fingers and suddenly realized that it was not dust that I was touching, but ash.
When I left the backpacking information desk at the Denali park entrance, I learned that there were 92 wildfires burning in the Alaskan wilderness. Nearly all of them were started by lightning strikes, and some had been burning for several years. None of them would be near where I was planning on travelling, so while I kept this fact in the back of my mind, it did not concern me. Naturally, if there was a fire in a particular backpacking zone, portions of that zone would have been closed to travellers for obvious safety reasons.
Reality smacked me right in the face when I realized that I was looking at ash covering my tent. I scanned the area with my headlamp and noticed that not only did ash fall on my tent, but ash was continuing to fall all around me. It fell like a hellish gray snow that swirled in different directions when moved by even the slightest gust of wind. Visibility was no more than 25-30 feet in any direction. Almost immediately, a sense of urgency overcame me when I understood the seriousness of the situation. First and foremost, I had no communication with the outside world, so there was no one that I could contact to find out if lightning could have sparked a fire near where I was camping. Second, visibility made it impossible to see either bank of the river, so navigation was going to require a combination of gps and compass. Third, the roar of the river that surrounded me prevented me from hearing the sound of a nearby fire, and coupled with lack of visibility, kept me from determining if there was in fact, any fire danger in my vicinity.
I calmed down and gathered my thoughts for a few moments as I considered what I was going to do to get out. First, regarding the navigation problem - Getting out of that situation was not as simple as just following the river back the way I came. The Toklat river meanders left and right and has hundreds of small branches and tributaries. It's not straight and narrow. A GPS allows one to determine their exact position and also offers the option of following one's track, or path of travel. One concern about travelling in zero to little visibility, is that it is easy to go in circles if you have no point of reference. I used the compass I had and turned on my GPS to follow my track. Checking my GPS periodically, I was sure I was not going in circles, and sure I was following the correct bearing back to the road.
The smoke and ash made travel miserable. Added to that was the near-freezing temperature water of the river. Although I had gaiters, wool socks, and excellent hiking boots, the cold water hitting my skin was like getting smacked in the legs with an ice stick. My nose, throat, and eyes had ash in them, and travel just miserable.
At or around 2 and 1/2 miles from my campsite, the smoke and ash cleared up a little, allowing me to see the Eastern bank of the river. Along the river bank I noticed what appeared to be hundreds of little eyes reflecting back the light from my headlamp. I could not make out what animals the eyes belonged to, and it did not help the psychology of the situation, as it further reinforced the idea in my head that there was almost certainly a large fire nearby.
I started thinking about my family and my experiences past, and started to wonder if I was going to make it out of there. Under the right conditions, fire can move extremely quickly, overtaking anything and everything in it's path. I slowly began to realize that I had not really thought about how heavy my backpack was as I hiked out of the river valley. I was carrying 70-75 lbs of gear (including all of my photography equipment, and water), and I had not even thought about it once since I left my campsite. Knowing this, I knew that I already had the steely determination to make my way out of there, and was not going to delay any longer. I drank the rest of the water I was carrying and moved with a speed that I would not have thought was possible previously. I felt no cold, no pain, nor any uncertainty. Within a few hours, I had made it back to the park road, the weather already improving when I arrived.
I checked my watch and almost immediately realized that I had not set it back an hour. When I awoke, it had actually been 1:48 in the morning, and not 2:48. My watch indicated that I arrived shortly after 6am, which means that it was actually slightly before 5. I had covered the nearly 5 miles in just over 4 hours. Considering the shape I am in (not all that great) and the weight that I was carrying, I still can't believe it was that fast.
I was happy to be picked up by the park bus that morning, and stayed the last day and a half in a cabin near the park, happy to have a warm shower and the availability of hot food. Anyone but the most die-hard outdoorsman will tell you that reconsitituting dehydrated backpacking food gets old pretty quickly.
I found out later that the closest fire to my location in the river valley was over 40 miles away. I don't know why a large amount of ash and smoke were in my area, other than the fact that obviously the weather must have played a part, because it was real, there was no mistaking it.
The last full day that I had at the park, I decided to visit the dog sledding demonstration that was put on by the park. I took a few photographs of the dogs and watched the rangers get pulled around on the sled by several overly excited dogs.
These dogs are working dogs, they love attention and love people, but they love to run and pull sleds more than anything else, as witnessed by anyone who has seen it in action.
Overall, I was pleased with the trip and my experiences. The weather could have been better, but being that I don't have any control over the weather, there is nothing to be angry about.
After all...there is always next year :)
posted by Ben Chase at 2:12 PM
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