wishing for bears

After my lake edge walk I decided that I needed to gain altitude to better appreciate my surroundings! Mt Tanalian, one of the few officially named peaks in the Lake Clark Basin, sits as a prominent 1219 metre (4000 ft) backdrop to Port Alsworth, presented itself as the most likely candidate. The trail up the mountain was described as unmaintained even though it is one of only a couple of developed trails in the whole of the park. It is a true wilderness! After my last effort I decided I would need company on this hike. There were few candidates, though I’d met a gaggle of people who were working in the park, mostly a fire crew from Denali staying at the bunkhouse who had been removing brush around the parks’ scattered cabins to protect them from fire.  My first night was their last and we’d shared stories about parks and fires as well as a flask of vodka I’d brought for the trip.  They’d run out of beer and there was no buying anything in Port Alsworth - much less alcohol. That night a mix was concocted of an electrolyte drink, the juice of an orange and vodka and shared with Heather, Wes, Brian, Royce, Jon, and Charlie from the fire crew together with Kelsey and Evan, both student volunteers in the park for the summer and me.

Evan was studying science from Oklahoma and he’d snagged a volunteer job through his ex-ranger parent’s connections and Kelsey was a Russian history student from Wisconsin working out her summer as a Student Conservation Association (SCA) Intern. The SCA is such a brilliant program for students in this country. Jen, who I’d met at the NPS in Anchorage, had explained all about this program, that was dear to her heart as she had moved to Anchorage, married and had a great career all because of it! The idea of the SCA was the brainchild of Elizabeth Cushman Titus Putnam in 1955 when she decided that the National Park Service could use some help keeping their tracks and facilities up to scratch, and university and senior school students needed something productive to do with their lengthy summer holidays. As an SCA intern, students get paid a stipend (or living allowance) and are provided with accommodation - usually on park, and as an additional bonus, if they work a set amount of hours get a slug paid off their student tuition loans. Everyone benefits! Elizabeth CTP said recently, when she received the prestigious President’s Citizen Medal: “Serving nature is among the most important and rewarding callings humankind can ever know.” I know this to be true.

With the fire crew gone I spent a couple of evenings socialising at the bunkhouse with Kelsey and Evan who were both lovely, friendly, enthusiastic and welcoming young people. Evan was shadowing Dan, the fish researcher as he measured flow rates in various rivers and parts of the lake, and helped him manage fish counting operations. Kelsey was working in the visitor centre including helping with dispatch - which meant flight following NPS utilised aircraft and keeping tabs on any NPS staff on the lake in boats. I’d spent a bit of time in the visitor centre and it was hard to believe this 19 year old hadn’t been helping visitors and talking on the radio for years. After making them a feed of rice paper wraps with salad and pan fried chicken I conned Evan into going on the hike with me the next day (Kelsey was working). I woke up on Sunday morning I wondered why I organised to get to get up so early and walk up a mountain? I bet Evan thought the same. Even so, we met at the scheduled time and I skittered along the path behind him madly snapping off pics of a kaleidoscope of fungi and lichens.  Some fungi had red caps with white dots just like out of fairytales and the lichens were growing together in miniature gardens like arboretums with a plethora of species. I wondered if they could be considered lichenetum? I guess if they were planted artificially together as specimens that may be the case. 

After my last hiking effort I’d packed sensibly for this foray with bug dope, bear spray that I threaded on the waist band of my borrowed fanny pack (yes I know! - that’s what they call them here), with my raincoat, water and snacks. The trail meandered slowly up at first then down through a creek at the base of the mountain until it started upward with avengence. Evan and I chatted about how Charlie had told us he’d seen a hunter with a rifle stalking a bear on the walking track the day before and as I confided my earnest desire to see a bear on this hike, we both jumped as we heard twigs snap in the distance. Evan loudly declared that ‘WE AREN’T BEARS!’ as we hurried along the path.  The Alaskan National Interest Lands Conservation Act 1980 or ANILCA as it is known, maintained hunting and fishing rights for Alaskans when millions of acres were declared national parks in the 80’s. Henceforth hunting is legal in the park and preserve (with certain conditions) including on the walking track we were on! ANILCA sets Alaskan national parks at odd with the national parks elsewhere in the US where hunting is prohibited. 

We continued on through the forest and the grade increased, the width of the path narrowed and my heart rate peaked as I valiantly tried to keep up with the athletic 21 year old who told me he had already climbed the mountain 3 times this summer. A scramble up and across a slope littered with loose greywacke talus, that matched the rocks along the waters edge rewarded us with a breathtaking vista across the lake. As we approached the top of the tree line, looking up, the peak of Tanalian was catching a fog that looked like a misty veil slipping over and covering the face of a shy bride. The freezing damp swirled down from the upper atmosphere and deterred us from making the final scramble to the summit. Walking back though, we were rewarded with a rare sighting of a lynx springing out of the long grass and bunny-hopping for a moment along the track in front of us. I was glad to see Evan was as exhausted as me and we both retired to our respective accommodations to recover for the afternoon. 

The next day Evan, Kelsey and I headed out with Dan the fish researcher across the lake for the river that joins Lake Clark to the expansive Lake Iliamna in the south, to check on the fish counting crew. The journey was slow as we towed a runabout behind the work skiff, and we paused at the opening of the lake while Dan and Evan tied the skiff up to the bank and used the runabout to check the flow rate of the river. The instrument that measures the flow works like the radar that clocks your speed used by police. Kelsey and I unloaded ashore and we were delighted to find we were surrounded by an amazingly diverse low tundra vegetation community dominated by blueberries. We lounged around for almost an hour on the spongy, fragrant plants and ate our fill of the sun-warmed, plump, purple berries. I prayed a bear would materialise and chase us back to the boat, but there were no bears to be seen. We re-boarded the skiff and headed downstream past fish camps on the shore where locals gather to catch and process salmon - hanging the fillets to dry on rickety timber racks.

Dan showed us around fish counting camp, where there was a new small log cabin for meals and socialising, and a group of one man tents surrounded by an electric fence (to keep the bears out) as well as an outdoor heated camp shower in a tiny tent that would have made this miserably wet summer more bearable. The fish counters were organised into a roster of 8 hours each, covering 24 hours per day, and their job was to climb the temporary towers erected for the purpose and count salmon swimming upstream for 10 minutes of each hour. The numbers were extrapolated to arrive at a spawning population number. 

Dan pointed west over a ridge towards the site of the controversial Pebble Mine proposal that I’d heard about since I first arrived in Alaska. The Pebble Mine wasn’t a mine for pebbles - it was the proposal of a company called 'Pebble' to mine a large mineral deposit of porphyry copper, gold and molybdenum right near Lake Clark and Lake Iliamna. Of course it has generated a polarised and passionate debate among Alaska’s residents - the “for’s” arguing that the mine will bring much needed employment, as well as funneling tax revenue to the state and reducing the need for imported minerals. The “againsts” countered that the mine will have an adverse effect on the watershed of Bristol Bay and as a consequence the millions of salmon that return to rivers and creeks that drain into Bristol Bay to spawn. They argue the food chain that rely on salmon, right down to humans would not escape the effects of this proposal. Predictably I bought a sticker against the Pebble Mine while I was in Homer.

Back at the fish camp, Kelsey and I climbed the fish tower, and watched as bunches of salmons swam upstream in the lee of the bank with the aid of our polaroid sunglasses. The dark grey shadows swam silently by in clusters of six or more, with minutes between the pulses of fish. I silently hoped for a bear to turn up, swiping fish out of the river right in front of us, but there no bears were to be seen. Dan and Evan did another stream flow measurement and we all piled in the skiff for the trip back to Port Alsworth.