Crow Pass #2, Alaska #4

Have you ever been on a backpack trip, dozens of miles from civilization and been able to cheer for a running race? Now I have. It was fun to watch the runners go by as we had breakfast. The wind was brutal (a chinook coming thru!), but luckily it was at our backs all day.

Some 200 runners passed us on the Crow Pass Crossing trail race.

How do you keep the tent from blowing away with a 40mph wind? Some people breaking camp
across the mountain had to run down the hill after pieces of their tent. There's no good way, it's all about
how much chasing you want to do.

Snow field below Raven Glacier.

Heading into the river valley.

We hiked through brush so dense and tall that we probably came within 100 ft of a dozen bears and didn't see them. We caught sight of a black bear halfway up a mountain eating grass. That's how I like my bear encounters : at a safe distance.



After a few miles of brush, some snow fields, and scree descents, Matt and I finally decided we were glad to be backpacking instead of running the race. "Hey Bear! Come out and eat Matt, he's juicy!" I called out each time I heard a rustle in the bushes. "Don't use your sexy voice, Karen. They'll come right for us!" Matt replied.

Google Cow Parsnip and you'll see why I hiked with my arms overhead.

Raven Gorge.

Cute little Ground Squirrel. This guy knows the best way to live in Alaska. Eat all summer and then sleep six months.

Eagle Glacier, feeding into Eagle River.

Eagle River.

By 1pm, we'd crossed several creeks, both fording them and on bridges. Now it was the time to really test ourselves: fording Eagle River. Fed by the melting Eagle Glacier, the slate blue water glided by in a swift clip. Other hikers were preparing for their crossing to the opposite bank, some 75 ft. away. They were moving sleeping bags to the top of their packs and adding covers. They must've done this river before, I thought. Matt and I have crossed 10-15 ft. wide glacial rivers, thigh deep, but this looked HUGE compared to them. "Any idea how deep it is?" I asked the man next to me, whom seemed to be guiding his group of eight. "Usually thigh deep on me, but it looks higher today", he replied with an air of condescension, "The only advice I can give you is that it's really cold, so keep moving." Well duh. Like 35F cold. The group stalled, hoping we'd go first. Then we stalled, fidgeting with our packs. To me, it looked to be over my waist. After enough waiting, I took Matt's hand, drew in a quick breath and we were in. The first few seconds were okay, cold and knee-deep. By halfway across, my shorts were soaked to my waist. We fought the current to stay upright. I couldn't feel my toes anymore, my legs were just cold, but ok. I stared into the opaque water, hoping I could eventually see all the rocks my frozen feet were slipping on. Matt lost his balance for a moment, but tugged on me enough to catch himself before going in. Fear radiated from his hand and up my arm. He's never held my hand so tight. OH SHIT, flashed into my head, please let us make it. Swimming is way too cold. Just five minutes in water this temperature can cause hypothermia. The water began to get shallow as we hit the other bank. We walked through shallower braids of the river. The felt so warm! We hid behind some bushes and were in warm clothes in no time. Instant relief. Miraculously, my hip belt was the only thing that got wet on my pack, despite the river coming up to my belly button. Only wet since it was dragging in the water ( quick tip : Don't cross a river with your pack straps tight--you may need to abandon it if you fall over).

All my sore spots were gone though! Horray! We continued on into the forest, stopping for photos and snacks. As my feet got really achy, we came to steep uphills and downhills of eroded trail. Not fun on sore legs with a 25lb pack. Some spots were steep enough to require a rope to climb.





Mike's friend, Joe, came up to us on the trail. "Do you know a Richmond in Anchorage?" he asked. "You mean Mike?" Apparently, Mike told his friend to keep a look out for us on the trail and had only described us as "young". Joe had run the 25 mi. race that morning and hadn't had enough punishment, errrrr..fun, so he was backpacking back to his car at the start of the trail. He seemed a little out of it (understandable!). That's pretty darn awesome! One of the many reasons why I love Alaska. The people are just nuts! It inspires me to become even more nuts! :)

Fourteen miles for the day and at a developed trail camp, we set up the tent and had dinner. Off came the boots...I may always carry my water shoes for camp! This was our longest backpack trail day ever!