Independence Day Hike

"My name is Buck Rogers." Seriously? Seriously. I once again wished for the ability to raise a single eyebrow-of-disbelief. Instead, I introduced myself and shook his hand.

For the Fourth of July, I'd decided I wanted to avoid the Independence Day crowds and festivities, and instead go for a hike in Hatcher Pass. At the last minute, I decided to explore the Craigie Creek trail, an area I hadn't been to before. My friends Tom and Mandy were supposed to hike with me, but as we reached the summit of the pass (~3600 feet), where the rain fell a little harder and temperatures dropped to 45 degrees, they decided hiking in those conditions wasn't their idea of fun. Go figure. I, however, was determined. After all, I'm supposed to be trekking in the Andes in less than three months. I need to get in all the hiking I can. 

As I drove over Hatcher Pass and down the slimy gravel road toward Willow, I wasn't sure where the trail I was looking for was located. Finally, I decided the little side road I'd spotted looked like a likely place to hike even if it wasn't Craigie Creek. I donned my new hiking rain pants and favorite rain coat, put the rain cover on my new pack, and headed up the trail.

Craigie Creek

Just a hundred yards or so farther I called out a friendly hello to an older man setting up a tent behind his pickup. Buck Rogers. All I really wanted to know was if I was on the Craigie Creek trail. What I learned was that it was the Craigie Creek "road," and the full life history of Mr. Rogers. He had a mining claim in the area, and was making an annual trip out to it so that he could claim to have worked on it. He was an insulin-dependent diabetic who'd forgotten his test kit in Anchorage, so he was going to have to drive back to town. He'd worked for 30 years as a vocational rehabilitation therapist with handicapped people, but now had started taking geology class at UAA so he'd have a better understanding of the geology of this area. His mother-in-law was a botanist, and when they'd driven to Alaska decades ago, he'd had to lay down the law about stopping for every new plant she saw. He also filled me in on all the wildlife I might see in the area, despite my having told him I'd grown up around there. He talked quite a lot in five minutes.  

 

The Craigie Creek road. Technically it's passable, I did see two Jeeps up there, but I was quite content to walk. I'd never have found a place to turn my truck around.

I finally extricated myself from Buck Rogers and continued on my way. According to Buck, the trail wended its way about five miles up the valley to Dogsled Pass. I figured I had about two hours to hike as far as I could before I needed to turn around so that I could get out in time to pick Rowan up at the airport. It wouldn't do for me to be late meeting her after her trip to Australia. 

Dogsled Pass off in the mists.

 

It didn't take long before I was good and wet. I really need to get a rain hat - I hate wearing a hood, although I did most of the hike.

Hatcher Pass has always been one of my favorite places, much like Thompson Pass is now. I love the alpine environment, the vistas which can be seen above treeline. The Craigie Creek valley wasn't quite high enough for tundra to reign supreme, but the willows were short and wildflowers were abundant. On the peaks at the head of the valley, the night's new snow could be seen. It snows everywhere on July 4th, right?

Lupine, blue bells, wild geranium, anemones, dwarf dogwood, valerian, and more were profusely abundant along the trail.

 

Yep, that's a dusting of fresh snow on them there hills.

One of my favorite things in Hatcher Pass is the abundance of glacial erratics. Okay, it's partly that I love the term glacial erratics - it's such a fanciful way to describe giant boulders that were left behind by retreating glaciers. In this area, they're old enough to be layered with a colorful mosaic of lichens and mosses.

A left-behind boulder in the valley.

This long row of boulders is a lateral moraine which marked an edge of a glacier's extent.

Hatcher Pass is well known for the number of old gold mines in the area. Best known is Independence Mine, a large mining area from which a number of old buildings still stand and are maintained by the park service. Independence Mine is the one most people picture when they think of Hatcher Pass. There were, however dozens and dozens more. Buck Rogers told me that there were at least 12 mines on the left side of the Craigie Creek valley, and two or more on the right side. I could see old tailings piles on the hillsides, but the remains of only one building still stood nearby.

Remains of an old mine in the valley bottom.

Off in the distance near the top of Dogsled Pass was another old cabin. As I reached the point of needing to turn around, partly because I was running out of time and partly because I was getting chilled, I longed to have another couple of hours so that I could get to the top. I hate having to turn around at some random point on the trail, I much prefer to stop at a logical end point, and it killed me to see a goal that I couldn't reach. Next time - there will definitely be a next time.

 

The top of Dogsled Pass. The old cabin sits just below the ridgeline near the center of the photo.

It rained the entire time I was out hiking. I headed back a bit earlier than I'd needed to because when I stopped to eat half of my turkey wrap I got quite chilled. When I turned around to head out, I turned into the wind. It wasn't much of a wind, but it was strong enough to force me to cinch down my hood so that it would stay on my head. I normally weenie out of hiking in the rain, but I had a fabulous time exploring Craigie Creek. I'll have to remember to remind myself that the rain isn't so bad in the future. It'll make it a lot easier to get out more often in Valdez. 

Cinched down tight agains the wind and rain.

So, how did you celebrate Independence Day? I hope you were warmer than I was!