This is not a
travelogue, at least not primarily. It’s more than and maybe less than a travelogue,
depending whether you are looking for a travelogue. Last Tuesday and Wednesday,
I went on a climbing trip in the Chilkat Mountains south of Haines, Alaska.
Our goal was to climb a peak marked 4755 on the map, Peak 4755. We achieved
something else.
As a bit of background, this whole trip occurred in July 2020 six months into the Covid 19 pandemic in Alaska which is very much a part of the United States. Geographically, Alaska is unique and separate from the rest of the country but ideologically, we are (or were depending upon when you read this) just as bitter and divided as any other state. In case any non-Americans are reading, I should point out that Americans are patriotic until the country needs us to do something requiring a modicum of sacrifice. We wave flags and shoot fireworks on the Fourth of July but vilify the doctors trying to save people from a deadly disease and bellyache like toddlers about simple things like wearing a mask or standing six feet away.
The Chilkat Mountains run north and south along the Chilkat Peninsula on the west side of Lynn Canal a deep fjord in northern Southeast Alaska. Glacier Bay National Park is on the west of the Chilkats. There are no roads. People in Haines, Alaska watch the sunset over the Chilkats. You can watch the sunset over Chilkats from Juneau as well with Lynn Canal in the foreground. Alaskans are lucky bastards. Maps of the Chilkats don’t have names for most mountains and rivers often don’t have names. I am sure there are Tlingkit names for some of the geography. It’s wild country.
Unnamed River. Taken Wednesday morning around sunrise
As a bit personal background, my mom suffers from dementia. She gets frustrated when she doesn’t recognize people that she has known for years. She gets scared when she’s not at home. The heaviness of eroding minds and the failed condition of a once great nation are the background.
I got a phone call
from my friend Mike wanting to go to the Chilkat Mountains for a few days. He
thought we should go soon because the weather was perfect. Mike and I were
joined by Jay, who I had not met before. We loaded our gear into Jay’s truck
and towed Mike’s boat to Echo Cove boat ramp, the northernmost boat ramp in
Juneau road network. It took us a little over an hour to cross Lynn Canal and motor north to
a cove just southwest of Sullivan Island. We anchored the boat and we were
hiking uphill by 11AM.
Mike setting anchor.
The plan Tuesday was to follow ridge line up to a saddle between Peak 2875 and Peak 4755 and camp. The next day we planned to climb Peak 4755 and return to the boat. Tuesday went like clockwork and Wednesday went perfectly as well but we changed gears and objectives after finding our route wasn’t passable. Tuesday around 5 PM we got to a spot on the ridge just east of Peak 4755. The ridge itself was more geographically complex than any of our maps or satellite imagery.
Much of the Chilkats
have a limestone substrate and the bedrock can form in fantastic ways. This
ridge was about a ¼ mile wide on the map but the ridge contained numerous “subridges,
thin rock walls running uphill in the same direction as the ridge. The top of
the wall we hiked varied in width from 3 to 100 feet. The wall was mostly
covered in vegetation with some exposed limestone. The route was steep but the
sparse undergrowth of the old growth forest made for easy travel. The peak to
the west of our ascent had a band of clean limestone that was maybe 400 feet in
places. Beautiful stuff. We continued up our buttress to where the ridge
flattened out considerably. At this point we found denser and younger
vegetation. While the whole trip was a bushwhack because there isn’t a trail,
the steep old growth nearer sea level was easy traveling compared to the thick
alders, salmonberry, and Devil’s Club. The hike to the high camp was 70% easy
walking and 30% bushwhacking but we spent 70% of our time on the 30%.
Camp. Lynn Canal and Alaska Coastal Range in background.
In the morning we
hiked toward Peak 4755, intending to traverse around the north side and access
the peak from the west. The slope we needed to traverse was a vegetated scree
slope about 50 degrees. We used the vegetation to hold ourselves from sliding
off the mountain and continued far enough to see that the steep slope became
steeper still and continued for a long time.
We took stock of the route and opted to come back next year and a
different approach to the mountain. We still had a lot of time so we opted to
climb Peak 2840 which was east of the high camp. We returned to camp and took
down our tents.
At the tent I realized that all day I hadn’t thought about the coronavirus. I hadn’t thought about anti-science movement destroying America. Anti-vaxxers polluting the civilized world with conspiracy theories and theories about how the plague of 2020 is a liberal plot. When they find a vaccine, those numbskuls are going to continue spreading death. Stupidity on and on. I hadn’t thought of any of it all day. I hadn’t thought about my mom’s dementia. I packed up my tent and those things left my mind again almost entirely.
This slot in the limestone is about two feet across, hundreds of feet long, and about 100 feet deep. 
Limestone cracks in bedrock.The slot is behind Mike.
After we climbed Peak 2840, we made our way back to the boat by 4PM. On the way we stopped twice to swim in lakes that dot the ridgeline. At the boat we cracked open some beer and toasted the trip. We packed out gear, headed out to sea, and got back to Echo Cove around 6PM Wednesday evening.
Thursday I was back working, thinking about office issues, and avoiding the plague. My mom’s dementia didn’t go away when I wasn’t thinking about it. The United States continues to falter and fail and much of the country thinks we are great again.
I don’t want to ignore the calamity. None of us should. That said, it’s progress to give ourselves a mental break. I sure need it pretty often.
