Hike 11: Salmon Creek Dam, Juneau (August 26)

In a effort to do some last minute training before Peru, my coworker-friend and I opted for a quick Sunday hike, before an evening flight. Given the time constraint, I picked out two hikes for us: Herbert Glacier and Salmon Creek. I was personally learning towards going on Herbert Glacier Trail, but my roommate convinced me otherwise based on the significance of the dam. I have wandered up the trail several times to Salmon Creek Dam, but always turned around. So, I'm counting this one in the 30 new hikes.

Salmon Creek Dam was built in 1914, and at the time was a "marvel of engineering of the time" it was the first constant angle arch variable radius dam in the world. The history, theory, and design can be easily read on the Wikipedia page instead of me bumbling through a reexplanation. It was built the the Alaska-Gastineau Mining Company to provide electricity for the mining needs. It still produces electricity and is a source of drinking water. Because of the engineering marvel that is sitting in our back yard that I haven't taken the time to visit in 8 years of Juneau-residency, it was decided that we would do the Salmon Creek Dam Trail.

Salmon Creek Trail is ranked as moderate, and is reasonable flat with the exception of the first quarter mile(ish) and the last bit that goes up several sets of stairs to the Dam. And honestly, when we got to the top and found the platform above the alpine, it felt like we had left Juneau and had been transported somewhere else.

Lunch at the end, with a view. 

Dam on the right. 

And because it's my favorite joke... 

What did the fish say when he ran in to the wall? 

A: Dam!

Hike 10: Verstovia/Picnic Rock; Sitka, AK

I travel for work a lot, so I have been trying to incorporate hikes while on work trips. So, on a day trip to Sitka, the meetings ended early, I spent the afternoon doing another hike with a teacher-friend. And, because I have an iphone and apple is great with planned obsolescence in the version of an inefficient battery, my phone died so I only got a couple of photos.



With a plane to catch in the evening, we booked it. Verstovia is just south of the main town area and the start of the trail is next to someone's house. If the sign wasn't there and if I didn't have someone who knew the trail, I don't think I would have found the trail head.

The trail is well marked and is a few switch backs. You gain elevation quickly, and it's worth it at the top.

So, for the name... Verstovia is the name of the entire mountain. The trail leads to an amazing look out point, which is the natural turn around. That spot is called Picnic Rock. Above it is a pointy, rocky peak that is called "Arrowhead." Altogether is Verstovia. After scrambling to the top and struggling and feeling tired, we turned around and I went to the airport.

Carved in to some of the steps: Mount Verstovia

The last few steps to Picnic Rock.

View from the top. 

Hike 9: Angel Rocks, Fairbanks, AK (July 28)

This hike was a little more difficult than I would like to admit. It wasn't very long, but maybe it was the heat, the different air in Fairbanks, or that it was after work with Fairbanks coworkers, but I'm glad I had lots of water and my hiking poles.

Angle Rocks Trail starts on Chena Hot Springs Road (about 49 miles out of Fairbanks) - almost all the way out there, and if you're doing the long version, you can end at Chena after a 7 mile hike. The short version is 3.5 mile loop. (For more accurate location information, this is a good spot to look.)

The trail starts out along the river, and then heads up towards the Angel Rocks which are granite outcrops and of course, we had to scramble up on top of them. I'll be honest, I was a little nervous climbing up on them, because if I turned around to look behind me, it was probably about a 600 ft drop, without anything to catch me or prevent serious injury or death. But Mike got up there, so I could too, right? And there's that saying about being outside of your comfort zone, but the limitations are if you fall off and die, that might be a little too far outside the comfort zone.

Turns out, everything was fine, and we scrambled down the rocks a less scary way than we came up.

After scrambling around the rocks, we began the hike down and took our time eating blueberries and keeping an eye out for bears.

Looking up from the bluff. 

View from Angel Rocks. 

The hiking trio! It was warm. 

Hike #8: McGinnis; July 21

Update: I made it to the summit. 

I, like everyone else in Juneau, cannot believe the weather that we have had. Yesterday, Saturday, September 29, it was an amazingly beautiful autumn day. I intended to get an earlier start than I did, but still went for McGinnis at 9:20 am. I made it up in 4 hours, had an hour lunch, and took 4 hours to come down. Approximately 10 miles in 9 hours. 

I don't know if this makes sense, but hiking up that mountain, the feeling of resentment started to percolate. It felt silly to have a feeling of resentment towards a mountain, but it was there. I was frustrated at how difficult it was and how tired I was. After 2 and a half hours, I knew that I still had a ways to go. And, I knew that what goes up, must come down. I wasn't going to get a ride down this time. And I started fantasizing how nice it would be to have a zipline zig-zag down the mountain from the top.  But, the accomplishment of climbing a mountain is only 50%, the other half is getting back down. 

On the way down, my knees turned quickly reminded me that I have not been doing what my physical therapist told me to do. For most people, going downhill is easier than up, but not for me. I move slowly while going down because I can't bend my right knee without it feeling like there's an ice pick jammed in it. Which causes me to put a lot of weight on my hiking poles and my left leg, which leads to cramping in my left calf. And because I was in a hurry to get up the mountain, I forgot to ingest any type of pain relief medicine and simultaneously forgot to put it in my first aid kit. The first hiker I ran in to while descending, I asked if they had any drugs to spare, and they happily handed me ibuprofen. It's my personal opinion that there is a special place in heaven for hikers that share pain relievers on the trail. 

One thing I enjoy about hiking is the solitude, but also chatting with people. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the lack of tourists or the crisp air, but something about they day made everyone exceptionally friendly. At the top of the mountain while eating lunch, I chatted with two UAS students. Their knees are stronger than mine, so they ran down the mountain. And when I got down further, I ended up hiking the last 45 minutes of West Glacier/Ice Caves with another woman. I don't know if I'll see her again, but we had a great conversation, and the last bit of the hike just flew by. 

Before I knew it, I was back to the car with enough energy to stretch haphazardly, have a glass of wine, and go to bed around 830. 

Autumn colors on the mountain. About 2.5 hours in. 

Mountain Top Selfie. 

Looking to Stroller White and Mendenhall Glacier.  

Looking down the McGinnis ridge to Mendenhall Valley and Auke Bay. 

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The nice thing about doing something, like this project (The 30-hikes in my 30th year) that I've embarked on, is that I'm doing it for myself. I'm not being guilted, coerced, or pressured in to this project. It's a healthy hobby, and a good way to welcome in Middle Age (Yes, I'm calling 30 middle age). Another nice thing, is that you also get to set your own goals, and sometimes those goals change, and that's alright. There was one point when I started laughing out loud and to myself while on the Chilkoot Trail when I realized that in an age of instant gratification, it's kind of silly to start something, with the goal or final destination being the exact same place that you started: Skagway. I finally understood the whole "It's not the destination, it's the journey" saying. 

Anyway, we decided that the weekend of July 21 would be when we schlepped up the side of McGinnis. There were 5 of us, a puppy, and far too much beer for an overnight trek. 

Elevation: 4228

Ranking: Difficult

Length: I couldn't really tell you because I wasn't tracking it, and there doesn't seem to be a good website (from a cursory google search) that would tell you exactly how long it is. And we didn't finish. So, feel free to let me know if you have a better idea than I do.

We started on the trail around 815/830ish and began marching along. It was beautiful and sunny and warm as the 5 bipeds and single quadriped started to move down the trail. We were slow moving with our oversized packs and took a few stops to snack and rest. 

The first split in the trail comes when "West Glacier Trail" splits from the "Ice Caves Trail." Ice caves continues down to the face of the glacier, and West Glacier has a sharp left switchback with more rock steps up the side of the mountain before getting a little flatter while hiking to the end of West Glacier. At the end of West Glacier, there's an amazing outlook over the top of Mendenhall Glacier which is where we stopped to have lunch around 1230.

   

This is where West Glacier Trail ends, apparently, and then McGinnis Trail begins. So, getting back to the length issue, when you look at the length of the trail, supposedly this is where it starts, even though you've already hiked probably hiked a bazillion miles. Kidding, it's apparently 3 miles, according to this webite. And then there's only 1.75 miles left to the top of the mountain (I don't believe that though), with some nice Alaskan Switchbacks. The trail starts in some Alders before you get back in to the forest. And I'll be honest, I forgot to stop and take pictures while going up those Alaskan Switchbacks. Here are a few though:

Looking up at Stroller White. 

SIDE STORY: I did not even know the name of Stroller White until my hiking companions started talking about it. A month later, I found myself in a Parnassus Book Store in Ketchikan and there was a book in the Alaska section that caught my eye, and said something about E.J. "Stroller" White. I thought to myself, Oh! That's what that mountain is named after. Neat! 

If you remember from previous posts, I was slightly obsessed and tried diligently to figure out who this Dewey-guy was. (Mt. Dewey in Wrangell and Upper/Lower Dewey Loop in Skagway.) So, I was excited that Stroller White was such an easy man to find. So, in writing this, I googled him to learn about who he was and why he has this mountain named after him. Not sure about the naming, but the man came to Alaska with the hordes of men during the Klondike Gold Rush. He was based in Skaguay and worked for the newspaper. He followed the Gold Rush to Dawson and ultimately to Whitehorse, all the while working for the respective newspapers. Eventually he moved to Douglas and bought the Douglas Island News. He passed in September 1930 and can now be found in the Evergreen Cemetary. 

Back to the hike... 

This is the part of the hike where things started to get difficult and there were isolated conversations or thoughts about turning around. We were having some knee problems, and the we started shuffling bags up the steep muddy parts. It was like climbing a ladder, but the rungs of the ladder were roots and rocks. And not the nice rock stairs that TrailMix puts in. It was starting to get in to the late afternoon and it we were getting tired. 

As soon as we got up the steep part, we were almost to the edge of the alpine, and stopped at the first flat spot to set up camp and drink some of the 12-pack of beer and the 3-liter bag of wine. (Yes, I know. Way too much for a single night. We have already had this collective conversation.) 

While we were hanging out and enjoying the evening and view, all of a sudden, a couple of people come running up the mountain. And of course, it was one of the same people who we ran in to on Mt. Juneau a month prior. 

Dinner - Veggie and Meat Kabobs

Camping on the side of a mountain.

It's a blurry photo, but it was absolutely amazing sitting on the side of a mountain, enjoying the glacier view and the warmth of a fire. 

Sunrise.

In the morning, we woke up, had breakfast. And because of the steepness of the rise of the mountain and concerns about knees, two of us decided that we would hitch a ride down the mountain with Coastal and take the heavier bags with us. A friend came and picked the two of us up while the rest started down the mountain with our canine compatriot. 

And apparently, because I can't figure out how to get a video from an app to here, I recorded the helicopter taking off and showing us how far we had to go. I muted it and put music over it, because no one needs to hear my commentary about how far we had to go and how we never would have made it with the amount of water we had, or how terrifyingly steep the backside of McGinnis Drops off.  

So, for now, I haven't checked off the peak of McGinnis, but that's the thing about making your own rules. You get to break them without consequence. Next sunny weekend day - that isn't snowy - I'll try to hike to the top without all the extra gear, and keep it to a day trip. 

Hike #7: Thunder Mountain, July 14 (Juneau)

Like a good Southeast Alaska day, the weather forecast called for 30% chance of rain around 2 pm and 100% chance of rain by 4 pm. Jay*, Em*, and myself aimed to start at the Jennifer Dr trailhead for Thunder Mountain, at 9 am, and arrived right on time at 10:30.

The trail begins with Alaska Switchbacks** to get up to the first flat area before turning East and heading towards the ridge. At around 1600 ft elevation, the trail merges with the DOT/Fred Meyer trailhead. The rain showed up earlier than we thought it would, and we stopped for lunch around 230 at a ridge. The clouds had rolled in and we were getting tired and cold so decided to turn around and 

begin heading down.

This was one of the few meadows, but yes, all foggy/cloudy.

What an amazing view! (Also, it was cold)

The ridge is up there somewhere, but this is where we had lunch and turned around.

We descended to the DOT trail head and crossed a couple of nice meadows along the way. J and M live near the trailhead, so we knew we could walk to their house to warm up and grab a vehicle. Because of some problem knees, it was a slow decent. We had a nice long day of hiking 11 hours in the rain. We got to know a new trail that none of us had been on before and we’ll be ready for the next time we want to go for a jaunt up Thunder Mountain. Next time, we’ll wait for sun so we can get the good view. 

Bog Selfie

*Not actual names.
**Alaska Switchbacks = Straight up the side of the mountain.

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Update: August 4

I've begun to look at the mountains differently since I've started climbing to the top of them. I'm paying more attention to them and thinking about how difficult it would be to climb to the top. Well, yesterday I was on the way to work, and made a quick stop to drop off recycling and realized how nice it was, and the only reason I was going to work was because the weatherman lied to us and said it would be raining and I had planned on working the weekend and not hiking. At the recycling center, it was very clear that Thunder Mountain would have a great view from the top. So, I went home, grabbed my hiking shoes and went to the trail head.

I pushed myself, and after 30 min, I was tired and ready to turn around and settle with the fact that this mountain would be unconquerable for me, and that it'll just taunt me every day on the way to work. My legs were tired, I was breathing hard, sweating, and I wanted to turn around and do something easier than climb a mountain. I wanted to quit, and I honestly wondered why I made a public declaration of doing this project. But then, the lyrics to that song came back to me, "If you do what is easy, life will be hard." And remembered that it's not a race, I just need to get to the top, one step at a time, and it doesn't matter how long it takes, but it'll be worth it in the end. It's easy to sit at home and watch hours of cat videos, it's hard to climb up to the top of a mountain.

So, I took a break, and tried to pace myself. It really is straight up. I made it up to the top of the mountain in 2 hours, and spent 30 minutes hiking to a good lunch spot.



The best piece of advice I got before doing the Chilkoot trail was "Bring meat and cheese" for snacks because that's the type of fuel your body is going to need to keep you going, and you won't have the drops in energy that over-sugary energy bars will do to you. I've noticed how my body responds to different inputs and have really started to think of food in terms of fuel for my body. This is a new perspective for me. So, jerky, deli meats, and cheese. For those who know me, know that I am lactose intolerant, for those who don't, I'm telling you now. Bringing cheese is an issue, because I need to find cheese that has little to no lactose. Since finding out about this, goat cheese has been on the shopping list, but it also makes for an expensive snack. So, a block of goat brie, jerky, and a bit of wine were accompanied with this view. I can't complain.

The most difficult part of sharing is choosing the pictures, without having too many, but still having enough to show how beautiful it is and help shape the story. Here are the few from yesterday.

And when you hike alone, you take selfies. Sometimes goofy ones. 

Hike #6 Lower Dewey Loop (Skagway, AK)

"You're off to GREAT places, today is your day. Your mountain is waiting, so... got on your WAY!"  - Dr. Seuss - 

So, what do you do after a three and half day hike 33-mile hike? Kill some time and go on another hike. 

The quote above was pasted on the side of a van in Skagway. As I was walking to the trailhead, I saw that quote, and it was too relevant to not include. 

I had a series of ferry delays while in Skagway, so I decided to get a hotel, taking a shower, and sleeping in a bed. The next day, while waiting for another delayed ferry, I decided to do an easy hike in Skagway, Lower Dewey Loop. 

I felt light as a feather hiking with only a water bottle, cell phone, and wallet. And much lighter hiking in sandals than boots. I left my trekking poles behind, and that was when I realized how much I've come to really depend on them as additional appendages. 

The last day of the Chilkoot Trail, I was using my trekking poles similar to cross country ski poles, and was pushing myself down the trail. Without the poles, going up the small hill to the Lower Dewey Loop, I found myself grasping for something to push my self along the trail with. I had a missing feeling. 

The loop is a 3 mile loop. It took an hour (significantly faster without a pack), even with stopping and taking pictures. 

One of the biggest differences I noticed while hiking this trail was the difference between tourists and locals. The few days on the Chilkoot, everyone greeted eachother. We were strangers sharing meals, but no one was reclusive or unfriendly. On Lower Dewey Loop, people just pretended I hadn't even greeted them, and I was wondering if I was an apparition until I had a nice chat about the weather with someone who had a dog. 

Lower Lake Dewey

View of Skagway from the trail. 

As I started writing this post, I confused myself for a second and thought... Didn't I already do a Dewey trail post? And I looked back and remembered that there's a Mt. Dewey in Wrangell. So, I started wondering who this Dewey person was, and how come this individual had so many things named after them. After some google-searching, I came up without an answer. The closest connection I found was a man named John Dewey who was an American Philosopher, Psychologist, and Educational Reformer (according to Wikipedia), but he doesn't seem to have any connection to Alaska. There is a loose connection between him and John Muir who was tied to Mt. Dewey in Wrangell, but appear to have no connection to Skagway. 

So, this could be something that has been lost to Alaska History. I'll keep digging. 

Hike #5: Chilkoot Trail, Alaska - Canada, July 1 - 4

Well, I did it. This was the big one for me this summer. Three and a half days, 33 miles, and a 40-lb pack (that either got lighter as I went along, or just got easier to carry).


A few logistics: You have to buy a pass through Parcs Canada (only 50 per day are available), select your camps ahead of time, decide which day you'll do the pass, and make sure there's room on the train at the other end to bring you back to Skagway.

I went to Skagway a day early to do orientation and get an early start the next morning. During our orientation, a woman came in and asked for her certificate of completion. The ranger giving the orientation for the trail asked her how it was, and she responded with an exuberant "Amazing!" The ranger said, "See? It's not that bad!"

History: The Chilkoot trail was originally used as a trade route for the Tlingits. As American settlers came to the area, the trail became commercialized and used by prospectors. During the Klondike Gold Rush (1896-1899), the Chilkoot trail was the primary route to get to the Yukon until the railway was built from Skagway to Dawson in 1899. More Chilkoot Trail Info. More White Pass Railway Info.

Day 1: Dyea - Sheep Camp; 13 miles; approximately 1000 ft elevation gain; 9 hours hiking.

The beginning: There's a sign, and then a path going off to the right of the sign. That's it. For some reason, I expected a bit of fanfare, an arch, something more.

I started the trail at 10 AM, and was stuffed full of stress, worry, and anxiety. I didn't know if I could do it. I thought I bit off more than I could chew. I was worried my knees would stop working; that my pack was too heavy; that I wasn't strong enough; and then I reminded myself, one step at a time. I have all day to walk 13 miles, and 3 and a half days to walk 33 miles. There was no hurry, no rush, and literally, my job for the day was to walk. One foot in front of the other. And the words from my father came back to me, "Life is hard, yard by yard. Inch by inch, it's a cinch." I don't know where he got that from, but it always annoyed me when he said it. This time, it didn't.

So, I started walking. 13 miles with a 40lb pack. I started to develop a blister after an hour of walking. I stopped and put a blister bandaid on it, and kept going. By 1230, I made it to Finnegan's point and ate goat cheese, jerky, and deli meat until I was full and left for Canyon City. It was around Finnegan's point that I started to run in to people, and I was feeling less alone. Here and there I would run in to trail crew doing work, as well as old mining equipment, houses, a car door, and other relics.

It was around mile 9 (of 13) that my left knee started to bother me. Up until that point, I had a pace of about 1.6 miles/hr. The week before doing this hike, I hiked Mt. Juneau (see previous post) and on the way down, my right knee really started to bother me. I scheduled a visit to my Chiropractor to have a discussion about a short term fix to get through the longer hike. Turns out, my gluteus muscles are a bit tight which is causing everything else to tighten, which leads to knee pain. The solution? Bring a baseball and roll out my gluteus muscles at night. I hadn't rolled anything out before doing this hike, so I started to get worried. I tried walking sideways, backwards, slowly, but the pain would still pop up. I took breaks as needed, however, I was also starting to get concerned about making it to camp at a reasonable time, but one slow step was better than nothing.

When I reached pleasant camp, I had only 2 miles left to go to Sheep Camp. I thought that I had at least an hour and a half left of walking. This thought gave me energy. At 7 pm, the NPS Ranger has a talk at the shelter, and I showed up, breathing hard and sweating at 7:05 pm.

I squeezed in next to some people to listen to the talk, and ended up meeting the people I spent the rest of the trip hiking and camping with. There was the couple from Anchorage, the couple from Juneau, the family from Whitehorse, and the two Canadian couples. I started chatting with the mom from Whitehorse, and told her that I was doing this trip solo for my birthday. She told one of her 8-year old twins that, and he immediately declared "Happy Birthday!"

After the ranger talk about the conditions on the pass, one hiker got up and recited "The Men That Don't Fit In." And it turns out, I was hiking at the same time as one of the three artists in residence on the trail that summer, Josh Winkler. He was spending two weeks on the trail. He had carved did a demonstration at camp.

After scarfing down some food, getting the food put away, and refilling water, I went to set up camp. It was around 9 pm when I was setting up camp, and the couple from Anchorage were nice enough to help me.

More pictures from Day 1.

Day 2: Sheep Camp - Happy Camp; 7.5 miles; Peak elevation at 3525 ft (~2525 gain); 9.5 hours.

They recommend a 5 AM start time, which means a 4 AM alarm. For those who don't know me, I'm not the best with mornings. I can do it, but I move slowly. On this trip, I learned that it takes an hour and a half from the time the alarm goes off to when I can get on the trail. This includes, waking up, immediately deflating and packing my sleeping gear, getting out of the tent, refilling water (that goes in first), packing the tent (second in the bag), getting hiking clothes on, heading to the eating area, making breakfast, eating, cleaning up, and packing food in the bag (last to go in). Then, I'm on the trail.

Stopped here to get more water and hang out with the 8-yo twins who showed my backpack has a built-in whistle, even though I had purchased one for this trip. 

I was on the trail around 530 AM. I was one of the last to leave, but there were still a few tents up as I left camp, which was reassuring to know there were people hiking behind me in the event I had any problems. I started up the trail and ran in to the family from Whitehorse who were taking a break for their 8-yo twins. As soon as one of the boys saw me, he yelled, "Happy Birthday, Birthday Girl!" His mom apologized and said, "You're going to hear that a lot." I told her I looked forward to more birthday wishes from him.

After an hour of walking, my knee was bothering me. I was a little stressed about this, so I stopped to change the way my sleeping bag was packed. I'm going to share this, because this is something that I learned, and it's probably something that more experienced people know. And sometimes the best way to learn something is the hard way. So, initially, I had my sleeping gear strapped to the bottom of my backpack. It would get loose as I walked and would dangle. The bag was dangling, so I stopped to try and figure out how to get it more secure. I figured out how to strap my sleeping gear and make it so it wouldn't dangle, and I kept going. About an hour later, I went to set my bag down and take another break. As I went to unstrap the waist strap, I was going to grab my bear spray, because I was keeping it handy, and it was gone. That's when I realized I had forgotten to grab my bear spray after readjusting my pack. I now had two and half more days of hiking, and no bear spray.

The good news, my knees didn't hurt the rest of the hike. I think it was the dangling sleeping bag that caused me problems.



So, I started to get to the pass (picture above shows some of the items left behind), and as soon as I saw the pass, I laughed and said aloud, "Wow, that is straight f*ing up, isn't it?" Turns out the artist in residence was right behind me and heard me talking to myself. I told him, "I thought I was alone, but you caught me." We chatted for a few minutes, and I told him when he was done, I was interested in a print that he creates after this trip.

After our conversation, Josh went ahead. He went straight up the mountain, and fast. I was moving significantly slower, but caught up with the family from Whitehorse at the bottom of the Golden Staircase. The staircase is more a bunch of boulders in the summer, but during the gold rush, they carved steps, and people went up, single file, with 50lbs on their back, and then hopped on sleds back to the bottom to get the next load of 50-lbs of gear. Luckily, I was going up, once, with about 38-lbs.

I ended up pulling out my gloves, and taking it one step at a time. Moving from one marker to the next. I was about halfway up when the family from Whitehorse started up, and they passed me! I looked at one of the boys, and told him that he was related to the mountain goats. For the next two days, I kept overhearing him talk about how he was part mountain goat to the other hikers. A lack of vertigo, and a lot of rests got me to the summit. But it was the false summit, and there were two more snow patches to go over. At some point, I heard the mom from Whitehorse yell out a big "WooHoo! There's the summit!" There were about a half mile ahead of me, and I was taking a break. That was just the amount of motivation that I needed to keep moving.

Picture at the pass. Alaska is behind me, and Canada is in front of me. No, my backpack wasn't always open. I had my camera stashed there, and opened it to take out the camera, take a picture, and put it back. You can also see the new and improved more secure location for my sleeping pack in white. And yes, that is a face of exhaustion. 

There were quite a few times on the first two days, my mind would wander, and at one point, I laughed and said out loud, "What the hell am I doing here?" And I started to think Who is this person that willingly strapped 40-lbs of stuff to go for a historical walk in the woods for three and a half days? For a birthday celebration ? I didn't recognize myself. And it got me to thinking about how we perceive ourselves as individuals verses how others perceive us. Certainly, social media plays into that a lot. Social media allows you to present a facade that you filter, only the good stuff, and none of the ugly stuff. I don't have an answer, it was just a wandering train of thought, and a self realization that I might be a completely different person than I view myself. I shared this with a friend when I got back to town, and her response was, "I'm not surprised at all. You are absolutely the kind of person that would do that."

At the pass, I sat and enjoyed the sun. I hung out with the French-Canadian hikers and the Inuvik-Canadian hikers. We shared my bourbon on the pass, and rested. And I couldn't help but think that this was the best way to spend my 30th birthday, with a bunch of strangers on a hike.

Now, it was only 4 miles to Happy Camp. We were above the Alpine, and it reminded me of being at home in Unalaska/Dutch Harbor. No trees, tundra, lakes, and mountains with exposed rocks. Walking along, I was excited that the two hard parts were done. The first day, which was the long day, 13 miles, was done! The second day, hiking straight up and over the pass, was halfway done. And now, I got to reap the benefits of walking on reasonably flat ground. I was finally having fun. The stress and anxiety had lifted. I made it to Happy Camp after walking through a few rain squalls, sledding down a hill without a sled, and enjoying the birds singing around me. It was a 9.5 hour day.

At camp, I set up my tent and went to make some food. After eating, I sat on my tent platform in the sun reading a $1 book from the Skagway Friends of the Library . I fell asleep around 6pm in my tent, woke up at 9, read until midnight, and went back to bed. The next day was the easy and short day.

More Day 2 Pictures

Day 3: Happy Camp - Lindeman City; 5.5 Miles; ~800 feet loss in elevation; ~6 hours hiking.

This was the easy and fun day. I didn't have to get up early, I didn't have a long way to go. The only thing on the agenda was to walk 5.5 miles before the sun set around 10 PM.

Around 9 AM, there were a few of us in the cooking camp having breakfast and packing up, and this guy shows up. We didn't recognize him, and someone asked him where he came from. "Sheep Camp." Everyone said, "Wow, what time did you leave?" Apparently, he left at 5 AM, walked the 7.5 miles, up and over the pass, in 4 hours, and he was camping at Lindman that night (5.5 miles away). The previous day he started in Dyea and did the same 13 miles I had done the first day. He ate a block of cheese, and continued on.

Having all the time in the world, I really took my time. I stopped a few times and took pictures, and even had a cup of tea at one lookout.

I'll be honest, if I disappear, it might be in this part of Canada. It was beautiful there. Below you can see one of the rain squalls coming up the valley.

After running to the trees and waiting out the rain squall in the picture above, the sun came back. I had been hiking between the two Canadian couples and the Anchorage couple. The four Canadians hiked ahead, and the Anchorage couple was just behind me. The sun was out, and it was a little humid after the rain went through. I was a little warm, and I had all the time to spare, and the thought crossed my mind, This is my 3rd day hiking, I'm a little dirty and greasy right now. How many times in my life am I going to have the opportunity to go swimming in a high alpine lake on the Chilkoot Trail? My answer, considering how lucky we were with the weather, likely never. So I left the trail and went out on to this small peninsula on the lake and found, what I thought was fairly private spot. Since it was my birthday, I had brought along my Birthday Swimming Suit, put it on, and jumped in Deep Lake. It was cold, and I might've exclaimed that out loud. I swam out a little, ducked my head, and came back in. In a high alpine valley, your voice echoes well, and the couple from Anchorage came back to check on me, yelling through the few trees that were there, they asked if I was alright. I replied the cold water needed a proper exclamation.

Post Swim Selfie. You take a lot of selfies when you hike alone. 

I had a bunch of energy for the next 3 miles and bopped along the trail singing my new song, "Hey Bear" to the tune of "Hey Jude" since I was significantly lacking in bear spray.

When I got to camp, all my hiking compatriots were having lunch before heading to camp at the next site. At Lindeman City, there are two camp sites, Upper Camp and Lower Camp. I decided to go to Lower Camp because it would be closer to the trail head in the morning. I was the only one who decided to camp on Lower Camp, and as soon as everyone left after lunch to go the next 3 miles to Bare Loon, I had the site to myself. I spent the evening reading about the Chilkoot Trail in the Interpretive Tent Parcs Canada set up at Lindman. After that, I ate my birthday chocolate, drank some bourbon, and read my $1 science-fiction anthology before going to bed around 9 PM.

My quiet reading corner at Lake Lindeman. 

More Day 3 Pictures

Day 4: Lindeman City - Bennett; 7 miles; Very little change in elevation; 3 hours 45 minutes of hiking.

Given the pace I had been hiking the past couple of days, I was a little anxious about making it to Bennett for the 3:15 train. I told myself that I wanted to get going by 7 AM, but didn't get on the trail until 8 AM.

On the trail, I had quite a few conversations with my new friend "Bear."

"Hey Bear, I thought you said I was going to have some flat stuff for awhile."

"Hey Bear, Thanks for the sun, I'm really enjoying this."

"Wow Bear, no wonder you live here, this is beautiful. Too bad your eyes are so bad, and you can't enjoy this."

In case you were wondering, to the tune of "Hey Jude," the lyrics to the song go,

Hey Bear, I'm over here,

I am walking up the hill now, 

I just want you to know that,

I really don't want to run into you.

Hey Bear, I'm over here, 

I'm just heading to camp now,

And I don't want to surprise you, 

Just letting you know I don't want to see you.

And then I forgot how the melody went, and repeated myself a few times. And for those who are musically inclined, I know how bad this parody is. 

After an hour and a half of walking, I made it to Bare Loon and all my hiking buddies were just packing up after breakfast. It was 9:30 AM, and I had 4 miles left to walk. I thought it was going to take me a lot longer than that, and I realized, that I might be able to make it to Bennett by noon. 

My Anchorage Hiker-Friends took my picture next to Bare Loon Lake. Bare Loon was probably one of the prettiest camp sites. 

This is where I really surprised myself. In 2 hours and 15 minutes, I walked 4 miles and made it to Bennett at 11:45 AM. I came upon the bluff (pictured below), and saw the Bennett Church steeple to the right, and declared to myself, "Holy Shit. I did it." And to my left, my hiking friends from Juneau looked over and said, "Hi, Monica." I was caught talking out loud to myself again. 

I decided to head down to the train station and check things out. I walked down, took off my boots and put on my sandals, and shared the last smidge of bourbon with the other hikers. I decided to go to the lake for a snack and to sit down to read. As soon as I opened up my $1 dystopian book, the family from Whitehorse joined me, as well as some other kids from Whitehorse I hadn't seen before, and the French Canadians. We all ended up swimming while waiting for the train.

Bennett Lake, looking north. 

My Whitehorse Hiker-Friends got a picture next to the train.

They sequestered the stinky Chilkoot Hikers to one car. 

I laughed to myself when we sat down for a 2-hour train ride to take us back to where we started after walking for three and a half days. It made me think of that quote, "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey." And literally, our destination was where we started. If it had been about the destination, then the entire journey would have been pointless. 

More Day 4 Pictures

I spent a lot of time and energy planning and prepping for this trip. I've never done something like this before, and it was exciting and scary. I haven't gone backpacking, I haven't gone tent camping as an adult, and I haven't done multi-day trips that didn't include a visit to a car where extra provisions were stashed.

Every day when I was walking, I kept thinking about the girl who walked in during the orientation and proclaimed that it was "Amazing." And every day, when I was walking, I would have answered that question differently. The first day, I would have said, "Stressful... overwhelming..." The second day, I would have said "Challenging," and then "Rewarding" once I got over the pass. The third day, I was genuinely enjoying myself, and the word "Victory" came to mind. And when I was sitting on the train looking around at everyone I had been hiking with , I felt proud of myself. Even though I started the trail anxious about what I was doing and worried I couldn't handle it, I was proud that I kept going, didn't give up, didn't panic, and kept putting one foot in front of the other. When I got back to town and my phone blew up, and everyone asked "How was it?!" the answer I settled on, "Ups and down, literally and figuratively."

Which leaves me with one last phrase that kept running through my head as I was walking: If you do what is easy, life will be hard.