After my last post, Lovin' Alaska, a friend commented that it's easier to love Alaska and appreciate its beauty when it's sunny out than it is when it's been rainy or snowy for weeks on end. I have to agree. I was grateful that today was another day that proved this opinion to be true. In honor of the sunshine, and as part of my Machu Picchu training, I hiked Shoup Trail to Gold Creek.
Hah! I just noticed the city's trail sign mentions not only beach access and camping, but also rental cabins. Doesn't that sound lovely? What they don't tell you is that those cabins are 10 difficult miles away. I only hiked the first 3.5 miles of the trail, and it took me a good two hours. But I get ahead of myself.
The last time I hiked to Gold Creek was two years ago with Rowan on a very similar day (read about it here). When I started out today, I was remembering that hike, and how it was our first introduction to stinging nettles. Do you think I learned anything? Nope, you're right, I didn't. Once again, I was seduced by the 70 degree temperature into wearing shorts. Once again, there were stinging nettles everywhere, and if anything, the trail was even more overgrown this year. I've been home now for three hours, and my legs are still on fire. I could help myself, but I'm being too lazy to wander outside to find some plantain for making a soothing poultice. The only good thing was that it was too hot for mosquitoes. On the other hand, I had to keep trying to convince the flies that while I might have smelled like carrion, I wasn't dead yet. I'm not sure they believed me.
Just a week ago I sailed with the Swansons out to Shoup Bay (story here). We explored the "rental cabins" and read the guest books. The trail was repeatedly described as "hell." I thought at the time that part of those hikers' problems were expectations. If they expected the full trail to be like the first mile, they were indeed sadly disappointed. Not only is the trail overgrown, but because it is just a narrow track cut in the side of the mountain, the surface is very unstable and uneven. Many times I nearly tumbled down the hill because my downhill foot stepped on nothing but bent grasses. I haven't hiked much beyond Gold Creek yet, but I can't believe the trail gets any worse - it would be impassible. As it was, my focus was so fixed on my feet that I had to stop every once in a while just to look around and enjoy the scenery. There was a lot to enjoy.
Admittedly, I also stopped frequently to graze on salmonberries. They were just starting to approach peak ripeness, and they were too good to pass up. If their accents hadn't given them away, I'd have known anyway that the couple I kept leapfrogging down the trail weren't from around here - they weren't picking the bright red berries hanging temptingly over the trail. Indeed, they were from Holland. I didn't choose to educate them on our local edible plants.
I wasn't the only one enjoying the berries. I saw many piles of bear scat along the trail, all loaded with berry seeds. Next year's crop should be well fertilized! I didn't see any bears, but I definitely heard one. I walked a bit past Gold Creek, and as I was returning, I heard the whump, whump, whump of a bear's paws hitting the ground as it galloped away through the brush just to my right. Clearly, it had sensed me before I noticed it. I yelled out a low-pitched, "Oh, oh, oh, you just keep on going," and saw no further sign of it. (I did, however, have a black bear run across the road in front of me when I was driving home.)
Even more abundant than the salmon berries were something decidedly less appealing: ripe baneberries. Their name is a definite clue to their very poisonous nature. All of the ones I saw were red, but they can also be snowy white with a single pin-point black dot. Stay away from them!
Rather than going right to the beach for lunch, I wandered a bit farther up the trail. The bridge over Gold Creek was damaged, I assume in last fall's floods, but it was still very stable. Immediately beyond the bridge, the terrain changed to a more primordial forest scene. I don't know how far the woods last, but I know it changes back to steep mountainside as the trail continues to Shoup Bay. The dark, mossy forest of big spruces was a wonderful change of pace for a few minutes; it's one of my favorite forest types.
It was a long way to go to find a pretty spot to enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it was worth it. My sandwich was yummy, I soaked my tired feet in very cold water, and had the best lunch view around.
I was definitely tired as I hiked home. I pulled out a hiking pole to see if it helped with my stability on the way back. In a way it did, but in another way it hindered it. My attention was split between placing my feet and placing the pole, and as a result, my foot placement wasn't always the best. I turned my ankles a number of times, never badly, but enough that they were starting to feel like marshmallows by the time I got back to my truck. I sure missed my leather hiking boots that reach above my ankles. I did fall once, but thankfully not down the mountainside. I slipped on a rock in a dry streambed and fell backward. My pack took the brunt of the force, although my left wrist caught some of it. No harm done, but I was glad to get back to flat ground for the last mile.
Back home safe and sound, with stinging legs and sore feet, I'm wondering when I can get back out on the trail again. I was considering going when the weather was less clement so I'd be cool enough to wear long pants, but I think the trail would be downright dangerous when wet. Maybe with better boots, though.... I'll let you know what I find out.
