2008 Woodie Awards
Matanuska Peak, minus a few rain-soaked meters
{Trekking the North Land}
Rich Stromberg - Rocky Mountain Magazine
| |
|
The old NtraiLs outdoor series retired when writer Rich Stromberg finished his coursework at UAA and the newspaper acronym changed from NL to TNL. Back for a short visit in Alaska, Rich kicks off the new series, Trekking the North Land.
After a summer of house building and fighting forest fires in Colorado, it was time for a break to visit friends in Anchorage and take in a hike.
The Matanuska Peak Trail offers the smorgasbord of an outdoor summer trek with its creeks, waterfalls, rugged peaks, wildlife, wild flowers and rain €" lots of rain.
Notice, I didn't mention anything about views. There were views, but they consisted primarily of rain.
However, the precipitation wasn't a deterrent, since I was only in town for five days and my hiking partner, Amy Schenk, was just happy for an excuse to hike.
"I haven't seen a sunny day all summer," Schenk said. "And it hasn't been for a lack of getting out."
On a clear day, fair-goers can recognize Matanuska as the peak that rises behind the livestock exhibit barn. But this ascending gem of the Matanuska Valley wasn't visible on the horizon from the state fairgrounds that day.
Our goal wasn't the peak, though €" simply getting out, hiking with good friends and enjoying whatever experience we were dealt was the initiative.
There are two common options for those wishing to climb Matanuska Peak.
A quick look at a map makes the approach over Lazy Mountain look like the preferred route, but the ridge onto Matanuska Peak gains and loses the same elevation multiple times.
Heading over Lazy Mountain means the total gain for the day is more than 9,000 feet. This is triple the climb of a typical day hike of 3,000 feet of vertical rise in the Chugach range.
We chose the second approach up via McRoberts Creek. The trail head is at the end of Smith Road, off the Old Glenn Highway just south of Palmer. The creek trail shaves about two miles off the round-trip distance.
The trail begins at 540 feet and climbs through a forest of cottonwood and birch. From the starting point, anyone familiar with the flora can find cranberries and watermelon berries to munch on.
Once the trail meets up with the creek, the alders become thick, and hikers should keep an eye out for signs of bear activity.
Rain meant the trail on this day was overgrown and muddy €" not so much a problem on the way up, but guaranteed to cause problems on the descent.
Hikers we encountered on the way up chose to slide down steep sections of the muddy trail on their butts.
I got a startled jump from one fellow who didn't notice our presence until I gave him my best bear roar. Good thing he wasn't packing a gun.
Where the trail climbs above the alders, it opens up to fields of tundra and berries that ripen during mid to late August.
Blueberries and crowberries are the most plentiful. Hikers intent on reaching the peak may want to forego picking any until the descent, in order to avoid the time-consuming distraction of berry picking.
Post berries, the trail becomes increasingly steep, and wildlife abounds.
At this point, a faint cry caught my ears. I asked Schenk to stop for a moment to investigate. We looked a few feet left of the trail and saw a family of rock ptarmigan blending with the tundra.
After a time, all tundra is left behind and the trail erodes into a route through scree and very loose talus. On wet days, lichen on the talus boulders becomes slick and dangerous.
The rain also serves as a lubricant for the sand and scree, so that neither route is conducive to a straightforward ascent.
Rain and wind began to pick up as the trail gave way to route-picking on the steep slopes. After stopping to add layers for warmth, we continued on for another push.
Rain seeping down our pants crept into our socks, and we spent much of the day squishing in soggy socks. Schenk's were wool and mine were synthetic €" both good for keeping us warm while saturated.
We stopped out of the wind about a half-hour later to intake calories and attempt to warm up.
During our break we were wishing that we had brought a map. Mine was in a storage shed back in Colorado. Schenk's map was boxed up for a move from Wasilla to Anchorage at the end of the day. According to the GPS unit our elevation was 5,945 feet, whereas the elevation of the summit appeared to be one hour and 1,000 feet ahead.
Since I was still nursing a cold that had my chest rattling with each breath a mere five days earlier, and Schenk was working hard to keep from getting cold, we choose to end our climb there.
Later we discovered that Matanuska Peak is 6,119 feet €" less than 200 feet above where we stopped.
Without a map and with dense cloud-cover, we couldn't have gauged how close we were to completing the full climb, but we vowed another attempt €" on a day with better views.
We took our time descending the wet scree and talus. Our spirits improved as we reached tundra and conventional trail, where the wind died down.
There were some slips and slides on the descent, and many near misses. Schenk and I did a few complete butt plants along with several three-point.
After seven and a half hours of hiking, we had completed 12 miles and 5,400 feet of climbing none the worse for wear, with dry clothes and sandals waiting at the car.
We could have stayed home wishing in vain for the rain to stop. But just as we embrace the snow in winter, we were both rewarded for embracing the rain in August and having a good friend to share in the adventure.