The Nabesna Road

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park in Alaska is the largest park in the nation, covering 13.2 million acres.  It has extremely limited access, with only two major roads.  One lies to the south, the McCarthy Road, and the second road lies on the northern side of the Wrangell mountain range.  This is the Nabesna Road, 42 miles of rough gravel, including at least five water crossings.  A high-clearance (preferably 4-wheel-drive in wet weather) vehicle is necessary for the last ten miles.

We traversed the Nabesna during our 2010 trip.  At that time, the park was building a primitive (dry) campground but it was not yet complete.  We stopped at the Salana Ranger station, located at the beginning of the Nabesna Road to check road conditions.  Dark clouds hovered over the mountains.  The park ranger told us that with all the rain that some of the water crossings may be high but should retreat quite quickly once the rain passed.  Another ranger told us that the postal driver had turned back earlier in the afternoon at the third crossing because it was too high.

We traveled as far as the same crossing.  The water rushed through the gulley in a torrent.  Not knowing how deep it might be, we retreated to the now-completed campground for the evening.  The campground was nestled in the pines and provided a quite and beautiful spot for the night. 

The following morning, we broke camp and decided to try the water crossings again.  To our delight, the water had gone down substantially.  We decided to ford and travel to the end of the road to the now defunct and historical Nabesna gold mine.  

Water crossing on Nabesna Road

The mountains before us boasted a fresh dusting of snow.  In the distance, we spied mountain goats.

The town of Nebesna rests near the end of the road.  It has maybe a dozen houses, a bed and breakfast, an outdoor adventure guide, a few small planes, and a grass runway.  The road narrows substantially after the town and dead-ends at a “road closed” sign.  About 3-1/2 miles up this road rests the ruins of the Nabesna gold mine.  

We decided to stroll up the road.  About a half-mile in, we discovered a trail to the Rambler Mine.  We could see the water flume from the road but dared not try to take the trail.  Although it was under a mile in length, the trail climbed over 400 feet in altitude.  Our Golden girl’s legs were already trembling.  We decided it best to hike back to the truck. 

As Roxanne snored softly in the backseat, we returned back down the Nabesna Road, past our last night’s camp.  We decided to stay in one of the camping pullouts nearer the entrance for an early morning start to Tok since we had several errands to finish before leaving Alaska.  It was a beautiful campsite, overlooking Rock Lake and Mt. Wrangell.  Because it was a bit buggy in the sun, we put up the screened tent to ward off those nasty gnats.

Evening began to settle in, and the mountain range had only wisps of clouds surrounding it, promising a glorious morning.  Suddenly a car pulled into the camp and two men barreled out.  They didn’t bother saying anything to us, just went to a high spot and began to peer over the lake.  David met them.  They said, “Oh, sorry to bother you, we’re hunters.”

Seems that it was the first day of moose season for subsistence hunters in the area.  A large bull moose had his territory around Rock Lake, and these fellows were trying to locate him.  By the end of the evening, no less than seven vehicles stopped to look for this same moose.  (Obviously our choice of campsites was the envy of everyone.)  David would get out of the camper and explain to each one that we hadn’t seen the moose.  All of the hunters seemed nice, but it was still quite disconcerting to have so many pull into our one-spot camp.  We were grateful when night fell but knew that morning would bring a similar parade of vehicles.

Sunset on Mt. Wrangell

It was as if the Spirit nudged me the next morning.  Most of you know that I am not an early riser.  But I woke and rolled to look at Wrangell Mountain.  I quickly grabbed my glasses to make certain that what I thought I saw was what I saw… the mountain bathed in red.  As I slid out of bed, a bewildered David asked, “What are you doing?”

“Look at the mountain,” I said.  “I’m taking photos.”

Sunrise on Mt. Wrangell

He, too, scrambled out of bed.  We spent the next hour in the morning chill, drinking in the beauty before us.  Wow!

With even the lower mountains dusted in snow and fall colors showing more and more each day, we knew what we needed to do.  Our battle cry now seems to be, “We’ve got to get up the Dempster!” 

We broke camp, drove to Tok, then on to Chicken.  After taking showers, we traveled on to Walker Creek Campground on the Taylor Highway.  Tomorrow we return to Eagle, then will leave Alaska for our final northern goal… Canada’s Dempster Highway.

Denali Revisited

View from Blueberry Hill just off Denali Highway 8

We are backtracking a bit.  Our plans are to hit the Dempster as close to September 6^th as possible.  Our hope is to catch the Dempster in fall color.

So, with a week to spare, we decided to try to camp in Denali National Park again.  We successfully made reservations for Sunday and Monday nights.  With three nights in between our leaving the McCarthy Road and arriving in Denali, we decided to boondock one night on Denali Highway 8, then stay in a commercial campground to catch up on the blog, several editing commitments I had made, as well as finishing up the humorous contest video for this year’s Rocky Mountain Outdoor Writers and Photographers Conference (see rmowp.org).

The road to Denali looked quite different than we remembered during our 2010 trip.  Then the clouds were so low and heavy with rain that it was impossible to see the mountains.  Although Mt. McKinley (Denali) was covered in clouds, we were delighted to see lovely lakes, creeks, rivers, and nearby mountains.  Denali Highway 8 is about 135 miles, with only about 15 percent paved.  The gravel road is in fairly good condition except for a few areas of deep washboard and potholes.

Hunters were everywhere.  Caribou season had opened on August 9.  We saw rigs of every sort, many pulling ATVs.  We easily saw over a half dozen caribou heads and racks either tied to the tops of vehicles, lashed to trailers, or poking out from pickup truck beds.

With the campground nearly full and more generators than we could count, we decided to boondock in a place we now affectionately call Blueberry Hill.  The site was off the road a bit and covered in blueberry bushes.  We arrive fairly late in the afternoon, set up camp, then took a stroll, figuring that there wouldn’t be a beast within miles because of all the hunters.

Blueberry Hill

The next morning, we retraced our steps and discovered an enormous bear track not far from the camper.  So much for being all by our lonesomes and thank goodness for our hard-side camper!

Fresh bear track

On our drive out, to our surprise we spied three caribou grazing in spite of all the hunters.  We figured these caribou would end up on someone's dinner plate before day's end.

We arrived at the Cantwell RV Park, a stopover we made back in 2010.  They have wonderfully clean, hot showers… a true treat for us.  We were able to finish most of our tasks by Sunday, broke camp, and headed for Denali.  It felt like a good omen when we spied a cow and twins along the roadside before we entered the park.

Denali was much less crowded than it had been just a few short weeks ago.  Perhaps it was because it was a Sunday.  We took a drive up the Park Road.  While park tour buses are allowed to drive up to the Visitor Centers, everyone else can only drive in the first 13 miles.

We found a campsite, staked our claim, then took the drive, hoping to see lots of animals.  Unfortunately, we only saw a distant moose cow and calf grazing on a mountainside.  Trying not to be discouraged, we headed back to camp for the night and took in a ranger talk on ravens.

The next morning, road construction from the bridge on the main highway woke us up around 6:30 as some heavy equipment driver decided to go in reverse.  The backup beeping cut through the air until it sounded like it was right outside our camp.  David made coffee, and we broke camp to see what other animals might be up early.

As we drove along the park road, we spied two photographers with extremely large lenses set up along the roadside along with several other vehicles and onlookers.  A quick check and we learned that a bull moose was bedded down in the brush.  It took a bit of time to locate the beast, nestled among the alders with only his antlers showing.  I took a photo… it was definitely moose antlers… in velvet… but they looked a bit odd.  We figured that the moose must have his head cocked awkwardly. 

The temperature was in the low 40s, misty rain, and the wind was blowing.  David and I both dug out our winter parkas to fend off the chill.  We waited… and waited… and waited.  Several folks stopped to ask what we were photographing.  One fellow from Pennsylvania asked, drove on, then came back about forty-five minutes later.  The photographers began packing up.  Everyone was beginning to wonder if standing out in the cold made sense. 

The Pennsylvanian asked David and me how long we would wait it out.  Shivering, I told him that I didn’t know.  Then he smiled and said, “I’ll get him up for you.”  Without another word, he began walking out toward the moose.  All of us were aghast, fearful that we would watch him be trampled to death.  No photo is worth a man’s life.  We watched him walk out in waist-deep brush and take a wide, considerate berth around the moose.  The photographers with the big lenses hurriedly pulled their gear back out and set up again.

His reckless venture worked.  The bull moose rose from the ground, staring at the fellow.  Thankfully, the bull did not charge.  What happened next, however, shocked us all.  A second bull stood.  It was the reason the antlers looked so funny… the two were lying side by side.  Within minutes, a third bull stood.  As one of the photographers said, “This is epic!”

I agree... I must have taken over 200 photos.  God was so generous!!!

Three bull moose in Denali

Funny how nobody felt cold anymore!  We all began shooting our cameras.  Park tour buses came and went, RVs, cars, work crews, but the three moose munched calmly, stripping willow branches and nibbling on alders.  We must have watched them for over an hour.  It was amazing!

After the bulls finally moseyed off into tall brush, we packed up, elated with the opportunity.  From there, we completed the 13-mile drive, finding a caribou in the distance along the way. 

We decided to change campsites further from the road construction.  Our evening tour of the park road was again void of animals, however, the park rangers had set up the rut signs (further indicating the extent of the danger the man from Pennsylvania had placed himself in when walking out to make the bulls rise so he could get a photo).  Clouds began to lay their heads on the ground, and it started to rain. 

The following morning, more misty rain and no animals.  We stopped by the Denali park mercantile store for showers, then headed back to Blueberry Hill.  Most of the hunters were gone, and we felt like the only two people on earth.  The wind was brisk, so we donned parkas again and picked several handfuls of blueberries for breakfast, crawled in the camper, ready for a peaceful night’s sleep.

Blueberry picking

Around 2:30 in the morning, Roxanne woofed softly.  She has never been a vocal dog and has only done this twice during the trip, each time a signal that she needed to go out (and early in the trip when she was sick).  David got up, but she didn’t stand at the door as usual.  He crawled back in bed.  About ten minutes later, a second small woof.  Both of us got up.  Armed with bear spray, we took her out.  Although temperatures had plummeted into the upper 30s, at least the stars were out and beautiful.  Rox dutifully did her business, then we all crawled back in bed to get warm. 

Another woof.  Miffed, I got up and gave her a drink of water.  She dutifully drank.  I crawled back in bed.  She woofed.  I fussed.  She began to mumble little, almost inaudible woofs.  David and I both got up again, knowing that something was wrong.  It was then, with my feet dangling off the loft bed over Roxanne’s head that I noticed the furnace was blinking red.  David checked the sequence… it was the furnace interlock failure light… the tank was out of propane.  He donned his shoes again and changed out the tank with the spare.  As soon as the red light stopped blinking, Roxanne laid back down.  Her job was complete… the wonder dog had warned us of possible danger.  At nearly fourteen, the old girl still has it!

Morning broke clear and beautiful above us, although the mountains were still surrounded in clouds  (in other words, we didn’t see Mt. McKinley this trip).  Our breakfast of oatmeal with fresh blueberries was delightful, and we enjoyed a slow morning.  We broke camp and headed back to Glennallen to take the Tok Cutoff and spend a day or two on the other side of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.  

As we drive, we notice colors in the upper elevations.  Time to hit the Dempster!

The Kennicott Copper Mine

Please welcome guest commentator, David Staat...

At the end of the McCarthy road and the confluence of the Kennecott and Root Glaciers lies the remains of one of the richest copper finds in the world. The Kennecott copper mine which was shutdown in November of 1938, is a must-see for those who love the history of mineral prospecting, mining, and the hay day of US industry. 

This rock glacier is 90 percent rock and 10 percent ice... one of only two such glaciers in the world.

Kennicott Lodge

The mine was built from pacific northwest timber and mining equipment made in the U.S. industrial belt in the lower 48.  People came from all over the world, for many of them this was their first experience in America and a hope to build a better life or become rich.

I took a two and a half hour tour of the facility where our tour group climbed to the top of the separation/refining building and down through its bowels. Our tour guide explained the refining process to us and how life was during that time.  I have always been infatuated with how things are made.  The processes, and equipment that are used.  What challenges and risks the people faced at work, in in their community, and how they over came them. It is a snapshot of the progress of man or lack there of, depending on how you look at it.

Ammonia extraction building.

Kennicott power house as seen from separation building.

Separation building and mine support complex

During its hay day from 1911 to 1938, nearly $200 million worth of copper was processed...that is about $46 billion in today's dollars.  Investors like the Havemayers collaborated with J.P. Morgan and the Guggenheim family to build a railroad over mountains, glaciers and rivers from the mine to the port of Cardova to bring the ore to the smelters in Tacoma. That feat alone was an engineering marvel.  You can still see the remnants of the old railroad today as you travel along the old railroad bead now know as the MACarthy highway.

Kennicott hospital.  This hospital was state-of-the art when built and had the first X-ray machine in Alaska.

Remains of Kennicott maintenance shop

Now owned by the National Park Service (NPS) much of the original structures in the mine complex are still there in various states of repair. Some have been restored to the original state when the mine was running. Others are going to be left in a state of suspended decay. It is part of a six-year plan by the NPS to preserve the Kennecott copper complex as a national historical site for future generations to walk back into a time when massive human resources, huge financial risk, and creative engineering were brought together, in a struggle in one of the most harsh environments on earth, to tap one of the largest mineral finds of modern times. 

For me, visiting McCarthy and Kennecott has been one of the highlights of our trip so far. 

For a full history of the mine you can visit the National Park service website below. 

http://www.nps.gov/wrst/learn/historyculture/kennecott-mines-national-historic-landmark.htm

The REAL Scoop!

Alaska has become popular.  We are definitely seeing more people visiting and wonder how much interest has come from the many popular Alaska “reality” television shows.

I admit that we watch some of them, anxious to see if it is a place where we have been.  Interestingly, two of those reality shows have been set in Chitina and McCarthy, both on the McCarthy Road, on the western edge of the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.  The drama in these two shows, Alaska Bush People and Edge of Alaska, has been great.  The Brown family was run out of Chitina, and the people of McCarthy are at odds with the man who would turn it into a tourist trap.  In fact, the angst in McCarthy is portrayed as being so high that we were cautioned by fellow travelers who had watched the show not to venture near.

One of the greatest joys we have during our travels is meeting the local folk, hearing their stories and learning the truth. We met a man that we’ll call Eddie (his name has been changed to protect the innocent), a reliable, elderly, local man who knew all the players.  Eddie gave us the true scoop on these two “reality” programs.  We’re still laughing!

The story line for the Brown family is that they accidently built their homestead on park property, living in it many years before it was burned to the ground by the Feds.  Homeless, the parents and their seven children bought remote property near Chitina to build a new home and start anew.  They struggled to barter for materials and build their new house before winter.  However, the people of Chitina didn’t want the Browns living there nor their film crews.  After an “incident,” filming stopped and the Browns felt too threatened to stay, moving to again start anew on Chicanoff Island.

Eddie’s version is quite different.  He told us flatly that the movie company bought the property for the Brown family show.  In fact a friend of his bought it from the movie company after they were done filming.  Rather than being a remote piece of land, the property was about a quarter mile behind the Grizzly Pizza restaurant.  The episode where the Brown boys meet the local girls was really played by several Valdez waitresses that were brought in, each hoping to make a few extra dollars.  The episode where the boys take down a green house for an elderly lady?  The movie producer paid the lady to have the boys dismantle it.  Eddie said that the movie company built the Brown’s house, but to make it look authentic, they had the Brown boys hammer, saw, and hoist beams and trusses.  When filming was done, the movie company tore the house down.  From the beginning, production in Chitina was only to be one season before moving on to another location.

The Edge of Alaska story, based in McCarthy, was even more interesting.  The story line got ugly last season when the owner of most of the town decided to put in power lines and a stoplight.  He took his backhoe and dug up the main street to lay the line.  One of the townspeople was so upset that when the backhoe was unattended, he took it upon himself to use the backhoe to refill all the trenches again with dirt. 

Again, Eddie chuckles and reveals the truth.  Those power lines were put in nine years ago.  As we learned during our visit to McCarthy, they are powered by a community generator that sits right behind the main street.  The man who refilled the trenches, teaches his son to shoot, and runs around like a renegade is actually an anti-gun activist.  Eddie recently ran into the pilot of the Edge of Alaska reality show in a hardware store, commenting on what a celebrity he has become.  The man told Eddie that he did it to make some of “that TV money.”

And the old codger who lives up in the mountains and is so isolated that he needs townspeople to bring him his medicine?  Well, he actually has a jeep and drives it to town nearly every day.  He doesn’t stay up on the mountain all winter but lives in his second home in Palmer.  As Eddie tells us, “It’s all made up.”

Visiting McCarthy today certainly supported Eddie’s claim.  The town only has about 25 full-time residents.  During the summer, the town of McCarthy swells to 100-150 folks, all there to support the tourist industry for the old Kennicott copper mine, lodge, and the national park. 

Except for the footbridge (also usable by one-person ATVs), McCarthy has a privately owned toll bridge into the town which the museum curator tells us that even most of the residence don’t use because the toll is so high.  Instead folks get around on their ATVs.  The squabble over the stoplight on the reality show would hardly make sense, especially considering the small number of vehicles on McCarthy’s roads.

It certainly appears that “reality” television isn’t reality at all anymore.  Eddie tells us that the movie people tell folks what to say, and they say it.  Quite frankly, we believe him. 

So today we fell like gullible “mullets,” as a dear loved one use to call them.  Makes you wonder if anything on television is honest anymore… particularly “reality” TV.

We came away from both Chitina and McCarthy having met some wonderful, friendly folks and we encourage you to visit both if you’re ever up this way.