Showing posts with label Kenai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kenai. Show all posts

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Box Canyon Creek, October 2013



Down near Seward on the Kenai Peninsula are a number of excellent USFS trails that are good for hiking, biking, and running. One famous trail is the Lost Lake Trail that heads north from near the Seward Fire Station. It's well known as a great mountain bike ride and trail-run race, too.

One day, maybe, the Lost Lake Trail will be well known as scenic access to one of the best high-end (i.e. steep, low volume, Class IV) packrafting creeks in SC AK: Box Canyon Creek.

This past Fall, Fairbanks-born multisport athlete Paul Schauer and kayak legend Trip Kinney dragged their kayaks into the top of Box Creek Canyon off the Lost Lake Trail and recorded this:


 
Paul Schauer's inspirational edit.

Paul and Trip likely made the first D on many of these amazing drops in mid-September, but Doug Demarest, who was a hard-shell boater on the sharp edge 10 years ago and a packrafter on the sharp edge now, hiked-in and ran most of it solo back then -- pretty impressive.

Anyway many thanks to Paul and Trip for their pioneering effort and documentation as it inspired Luc Mehl, Todd Tumolo, G. Ganey and me to head in a few weeks later and run it ourselves.

Not sure where I first saw the vid, but Tim Johnson and I watched it together and he said, "It looks perfect for packrafts." That's all I needed to hear and with Tim's words and Paul/Trip's vid I had Luc, Ganey, and Todd sold on an early October trip.

We made quick work of the hike in. Leaving the parking lot around noon, we followed the trail as it wandered through rain forest to the edge of Box Canyon, where a brief glimpse of a rocky creek looked un-promising --  rocky and shallow.

Later there was a  bit of anxiety about where best to drop in, how best to miss the 500 vertical feet of alder shlapping.

We climbed down to the mouth of the visible canyon.

Our choice, where the Lost Lake Trail ends its parallel run to the creek and heads away uphill through meadows, seemed the least brushy alternative but had a steep drop down to the creek bed. I am sure there are better approaches. We walked and waded for about a quarter to half a mile, before shear walls forced us in at about 2:30 PM.

The water was so shallow and any rock out of the water so sharp that I think we were all wondering why we were there. If it wasn't such a gnarly climb out, we probably would have bailed.

Luc at the put-in

Instead we scratched and paddled onward on a bunch of little drops that seemed bad for the boat but were nonetheless fun .... and then about an hour and a half later we came to this six foot slide followed by a ten foot boof:

Luc approaching the Veracruz-style double drop

I gave it ago first and made the entrance drop nicely but didn't even try to boof and landed on my head off the 10-footer. Subsequent group members made some comic efforts, too, but both Luc and Todd styled the boof, thanks to their Jan 2013 trip to Mexico.

fuzzy -- but you get the idea

I referred to this as the "Veracruz Boof" in honor of their Mexican boofing school.

"That was awesome!" I called out to Luc as he made a successful boof, "Class V for sure, right?"

"No. That's not class V. It's not burly or pushy or big enough water."

Stylish eddy out below his stylish boof

From here it picked up, but we felt like some more water would have been nice.



In Paul's video there's a wild little pencil lead-wide slot that we were sure would cut our boats. Instead it was fun. In fact, everything was fun, except the fear of a cut boat on the sharp, raw Kenai schist, and got fun fast as we neared what Luc called the "Four Horsemen".



As we climbed down and scouted we were excited. It looked like a mini-version of North Carolina's Horsepasture Creek that Luc and I had paddled with Timmy J. in Jan. 2012. There was a slide drop to its lip:


Then four more slides. Luc went first and I tried to snap some photos with my point and shoot. I had the only camera but it was a dark, October day, getting late, and I was cold and excited so the shots are blurry. I doctored them up a bit to help capture the mood and magic of the moment.







Luc ran the sequence first -- four slides in a row, each about ten feet tall and with sort of sticky holes at the bottom.

"I can't believe this run!" gushed Luc, "I have never been on a run that I can point to specific winter  boating I did before that prepped me. These slides are so like the Dixie runs we did and the boofs -- the Mexico trip so prepared me for those. January paddling is awesome!!"


We were just getting started on a quarter mile that drops maybe 200 feet or so in about 15 stacked back to back drops from 5-15 feet high. In this quarter mile there were the Four Horsemen with the entrance above -- then a chossy drop into a Class V we walked -- to a Class V that Paul and Trip walked and Luc tried but swam backwards and head-first, asking for my help as he went over and that I couldn't deliver -- to another drop we walked -- to one that shot Todd out of his boat (ask him the name of that one) and me into a roll -- to some more portage drops -- to fun drops -- to a swirly corner -- to the final Class V "California Nightmare" pothole that trapped Ganey upright for a minute or five before Todd pulled him out, wide-eyed but still upright, with a throw bag.

Looking down an un-run drop that Luc swam upside down and backward

At the end, as we walked down the creek to the Resurrection River valley and the roads back to the Seward Highway with darkness dropping hard, we were bubbly.

"This is exactly what I want to be doing in a packraft," claimed Ganey. "Exploratory boating on a new run with big drops."

I couldn't agree more. It was a solid crew on a run that as far as we knew had been run once a few weeks earlier by expert kayakers.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

More Harding Media


Here's a map of our recent route out and back across the Harding (in red). The green line is what Jim Lokken and I skied in the 1983 Hope to Homer Wilderness Classic; the purple line the solo route in 1984; the yellow route a grad student and I skied in 2005. There've been other trips, too: Jon Underwood, Paul Adkins, Chris Flowers and I took mountain bikes and packrafts across and on to Homer in 1995, but there're already too many lines on the map to include that one, the multi-sport route with Peggy, Vern Tejas, Nora Tobin, Bob Kaufman, and Dave Hooper, or the big circle trip with the kids.

Of course I made a video of last week's trip. You Tube stripped my choice of music: Led Zeppelin's "The Ocean" from the Houses of the Holy album. Todd Tumolo, who's 24, likes Led Zep and the music seemed to capture for me the feel of the place.

Here it is:

Friday, August 28, 2009

100 Miles on the Harding


APU student Todd Tumolo and I are just back from a hundred miles of skiing back and forth across the Harding Icefield, one of the most amazing places in all of Alaska. I guess counting a crossing as once across, and an out-and-back as twice across, these would be like my 10th and 11th crossings since 1983. This trip was collecting iceworms for a genetic study that might shed light on how iceworms disperse from glacier to glacier.

What makes the Harding Icefield so amazing is the play of light and weather on the assortment of nunataks and the expanse of ice and snow. So vast and disorienting can the Icefield be, that in the the pre-GPS days it was a terrifying crossing!

I once skied from Skilak to Chernof solo during a Wilderness Classic and was afraid of getting lost and/or being hit by a storm. I had nothing but a pin-on compass and a bivy sack. Cody Roman (then 14), Jazz (then 12) and I did a big week long loop in 2001 when we were hit by a storm of ferocious winds and rain. There's simply no way to dig into the hardpacked firn and with such a long fetch, the wind speeds are tent-flattening. I had to put on a face of total calmness while inside my head I feared the tent would be ripped apart and we soaked in freezing rain at 50 miles an hour.

But now with GPS, my familiarity with all of its glaciers and peaks, and a good kit I feel comfortable up there.

My favorite way to cross it is north to south, skiing into the warm sun. One May we skied from Exit to Nuka and I never put on gaiters or gloves so warm was the ski. Skiing south one looks at the icy north faces of the nuktuks, nunataks, and mountains and they are so picturesque. Skiing north you see the barren south faces of choss-heaps. Most of the rock is schisty country rock but the nuktuks of the central Nunatak Plateau are granite and the route to the Chernof passes across the granite and schist contact. The precipitation gradient is so steep that standing above the Chernof Glacier and looking at the McCarty Glacier peaks one sees a view of mega-glacier draped mountains like the Antarctic Peninsula while looking toward Truuli Glacier you see peaks bare of snow.

The geography of the Icefield is singular. The Icefield proper stretches between the Chernof and Exit Glaciers. South of the Chernof are a series of range crossing glaciers separated by rocky ridges. These unique "saddle-passes" are broad passes from big glacier to big glacier that have steeper cols above them that cross the ridges. Late in the season, like last week, the ridge crossings have deep and nasty, roof-ripping bergschrunds, whereas the stretch from Exit Glacier to Tustumena has nothing but "guppy" sized cracks. In other words, from Exit to Tustumena is rope-free travel on a flat, flat, flat icefield with distant peaks. Whiteouts and blizzards make for what Todd calls "full-on iPod conditions". From Tustumena south to Nuka Valley is more typical mountainous terrain with steeper hills, rocky passes, and cracks.

One measure of how great a place is for adventuring is whether you'd go back or not. As we returned to Exit Glacier after six days, Redoubt's ash wearing the fishscales off my skis, I thought about what my next trip up there might be: "Ski to Sea", a ski tour across the Icefield followed by a fjord-hopping packraft paddle back to Seward.

Anyone interested?

Saturday, June 20, 2009

McCarthy's Forest



"McCarthy Forest" * * * *
25 miles
1 day 
Cheap trip from Anchorage
Resurrection Trail hike 
Trail walk 
1,200 foot gain 
13 mile walk 
Resurrection Creek paddle
PR 3(4)
Low volume -- 100 ft/mile
12 mile paddle

An easy walk up the Kenai Peninsula’s finest trail to paddle back down a warm, splashy, clearwater creek. Hike is fast, level and popular. Best done in early season or after rain as Resurrection Creek is shallow. An out-and-back trip that begins and ends at the Resurrection Pass Trailhead near Hope. A good outing for intermediates -- or more experienced boaters who want to introduce beginners to the next level beyond Twenty-Mile River (“Clark’s Classic”) or Girdwood to Eagle River (“Griffith’s Gold”). Passes through beautiful spruce forest on a good trail and beautiful creek.

Description

A twenty-five mile day of easy trail walking and backcountry packrafting. The hike-in takes about 1.5--2 hours to 7 Mile Bridge and 3--5 hours to the uppermost put-in above Fox Creek. The float to 7 Mile Bridge takes about 1.5--2 hours, depending on portages of beaver dams and log jams. From 7 Mile Bridge to the take-out requires another couple hours with additional time to scout/portage the Cascades. Plan on 8-12 hours for the entirety of McCarthy Forest. USGS 1:63,360 Seward D-8, C-8.  Start Resurrection Pass Trailhead at  Resurrection Creek Bridge: 60.87035o N , 149.62791o W  Finish An out-and-back.


Introduction

The Resurrection Trail system comes as close to a Lower 48 style backcountry experience as any in Alaska. For packrafters who have mastered Twenty Mile, Placer, and Eagle Rivers and those who enjoy upper Ship Creek and South Fork Eagle River (particularly “Sunshine” or “Ship of Temptation” and “Porcupine”) this 13 mile run of a steep, shallow, and low volume creek is very fun. The entire trip, Anchorage to Anchorage, is a full summer’s day, split evenly between walking, paddling and driving. Generally, if the Six Mile Creek NOAA Gauge is 10 feet or above, there should be sufficient water to do the uppermost section.

 Hiking

The walk-in is straightforward. Leave the Resurrection Pass Trail parking area about five miles south of Hope, cross the Trailhead Bridge over to the west side of the creek and head south on a wide, relatively dry trail. Even when wet, this trail is not muddy. The trail first parallels within sight of the creek, then, after about a mile and a half, it climbs uphill and diverges as the creek passes through its lower canyon. Beyond this hill another mile or so (about 2.5 miles from the trailhead) the creek and trail come very close, within a few yards of each other. Use Put-in 1 for a quick run down to the Trailhead Bridge. Southward the trail passes through an old burn and climbs again away from the creek. About 4.5 miles from the trailhead, high above the creek you may hear the Cascades rapids. Look through the birch and hemlock on the canyon rim to see the constricted, boulder-strewn PR 4 drops, the most challenging and potentially dangerous stretch of Resurrection Creek. A short, indistinct trail leaves the main trail onto a birch-covered bluff and allows a bit of a scout (marked on the USGS map Seward D-8). Carry on another two miles or so to cross Resurrection Creek at “7 Mile Bridge”. Put-in 2 provides a two-hour paddle to the Trailhead Bridge. From 7 Mile Bridge continue up the trail past Caribou, Pass and Fox Creeks. Fox Creek is about 12 miles from the trailhead, a mile from Put-in 3. The put-in is recognizable as a high bluff over the creek about 20 yards from the trail. Perched atop the bluff, look left for the cottonwoods growing on the old, bluff slump and work your way down to the creek.

Boating

The general nature of Resurrection Creek is a very small to mid-sized, steep, wooded creek with canyons, boulders, clear, warm water and non-stop, fairly consistent action. The paddle down to the parking area divides naturally into three legs separated by the mapped put-in points. The uppermost stretch is steep (PR 3) and tiny with several wood portages. The middle stretch is bigger and more technical (PR 4) with rocks and ledges and some wood in its canyon. The final stretch (PR 3) is highest volume and boulder-filled but usually clear of wood.

The uppermost stretch (100 feet/mile),  is on a very small creek, 100 cfs at most, with very few to no eddies and many sharp bends.  A typical paddle to 7 Mile Bridge will encounter several portages in the form of beaver dams and log jams. In addition, new cottonwoods toppled by beavers and wind-thrown beetle-killed spruce can easily span the creek. As the upper creek has many blind twists and turns with midstream boulders, consider boating with an open spray deck at times, ready for a quick exit. Back-paddling and good maneuvering skills (especially back-ferry) are handy, but again, because the volume is so low, the run always feels in control. It’s also very beautiful. There are a half dozen mini-canyons with exciting PR 3 drops between constant PR 2 water in a vibrant spruce forest. Several creeks come in from both sides adding flow. At the time of writing there were two beaver dams above Fox Creek, and two log jams between Fox and White Creeks. Upstream of the put-in also looked log-prone. From White Creek to 7 Mile Bridge was a bit higher flow (maybe 150 cfs) with no portages.

About 15 to 20 minutes below the 7 Mile Bridge, watch for a large rock on river right, the biggest boulder on the run. It signals the coming of the Cascades Canyon (160 feet/mile), a series of five big drops in a shallow schist canyon, the second of which is usually spiked with wood and must be portaged. After the large signal rock, a canyon-spanning log high above the creek offers another signal of the Cascades Canyon. Eddy out right outside the canyon to scout and portage the Cascades rapids from the canyon rim. Generally, the first drop, an entrance rapid, comes quickly as a powerful PR 3+ followed by enough calm water to eddy out right (now inside the canyon), nosing between the wood choked drop’s bounding boulders and a rock outcrop on the right. Portage this second drop and scout the third and fourth. The powerful fourth drop sends you into a hidden fifth drop. The sequence of these last three drops is PR 4 to PR 5 depending on wood content and water volume. The two and a half mile stretch from Willow Creek  to the Lower Canyon is splashy and fun (75 feet/mile).

Sometime after passing the trail visible as a board-walk on river left, you may see old mining debris on river right as the creek again constricts for the half mile Lower Canyon (150 feet/mile). Solid PR 3 with holes and violent drops follow, including a manky section of big boulders and confused water where a swim could be long and bruising. The last mile and a half of rehabilitated/reclaimed section of creek (85 feet/mile) is marked by a sinuous series of drops over submerged boulders with piles of logs on the outside corners, put there to reduce erosion, but looking pretty scary! After the rehabilitated portion the creek is channelized for the final wave-train run to the take-out bridge.

NAD 27 Waypoints (mapped yellow dots)

Put-in 3

60.72239 N, 149.72401 W

beaver dam portage

60.73182 N, 149.71979 W

beaver dam portage

60.73600 N, 149.71927 W

log jam portage           

60.74291 N, 149.71319 W

log jam portage           

60.75204 N, 149.70258 W

Cascades Canyon scout/portage

60.80703 N, 149.64949 W

Parking Area

60.87035 N  149.62791 W

 

 
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