Denali, Sable Mountain via Tattler Creek.

The route I had picked to go up Sable Mountain via Tattler Creek ended up being the same as that described by Ike Waits, in his classic book "Denali National Park: Guide to Hiking, Photography and Camping," even down to the red OR Gortex Gaitors he sports on the cover of the book.

"Welcome to Denali National Park." Overlooking the Teklanika River.

These were certainly helpful, as we tromped through the creek, over snow piles and through the wet brush evading the grizzly bear who I spotted while surveying the land from a rocky outcropping.

Along Tattler Creek, just east of Sable Mountain

The tiny dot in the center of the picture just below the ridge line is a grizzly bear. I swear.

Staying to the right of the creek, I spotted the ridge we'd be climbing just as it's described by Waits: a change in color from red to gray soil. The steep incline was covered in a moss-like substance (not sure the real name) that provided solid footing. Toward the top we encountered a dall sheep trail and followed it south toward the front of the mountain.

From there it was a good hike up toward the summit peaks. We stopped at the first of three summit peaks on the east side of the mountain for lunch. As we started to chow down, Denali came into view way off in the distance. Unfortunately the clouds shrouded the peak, but regardless we got great views of the Polychrome glaciers and the entire Sable Mountain Wildlife Closure, even spotting a gray wolf down at the base of the mountain.

Mt. McKinley is poking through the break in the clouds, but it's pretty difficult to see without zooming way in. 

View down Tattler Creek toward the Park Road. Note my classmate Hahn Nguyen in her white jacket for scale.

I could write for hours about Denali, and one could spend a lifetime up there hiking, climbing, taking pictures and enjoying one of nature's most precious environment.

Instead, I'll let the summit of Mt. McKinley take it away...

Mt. McKinley (Denali) with the south summit poking through the clouds. 

--Patrick

Denali this weekend

Great post Cody!!

You're definitely kicking my butt in terms of working out... but I've been running, doing P90X Plyometrics and Yoga ("Best downward dog of your life...") and plan to climb Sable Mountain this weekend up in Denali National Park. We're staying at Teklanika campground and I wanted to find a closer hike to maximize my chance of seeing McKinley early in the morning before the clouds move in. Thanks Google Earth for allowing me to scope out the lay of the land before heading up there.

Sable Mountain with Mt. McKinely in the distance. Hopefully I'll be able to add a real photo after the weekend. 

-Patrick

Bird Ridge, Chugach State Park, AK

The UW School of Medicine graciously decided to send me to Anchorage for my OB/Gyn rotation so that I could train for climbing Mt. Rainer. Killer.

Over the first weekend of the rotation, I ventured south of Anchorage with my classmate, Travis Pecha, to climb Bird Ridge, a hike that I'm told is a favorite among the locals.

The 2.5 mile one-way hike starts at sea level and peaks at about 3400 feet (aka, straight the f*** up).

In lieu of my boot debacle at Lake 22 (see earlier post) and the fact that I've been pumping money into alpine gear, I regret to write that I was ill-prepared in regards to footwear for this adventure. Although I considered a few pairs of hiking boots from REI, Craigslist and even the local Sportsman Warehouse, I still hadn't found the right set up (basically looking for something waterproof, mid to high top, with a heel welt for my crampons just in case and not too expensive).

So, on the morning of the hike I had a choice to make.

Behind door number one were my old running shoes: sure, they took me across the finish line of my first (and only) marathon, but that was nearly 2 years ago. Plus they're about as impervious to water as cotton socks.

Behind door number two were my Koflach plastics alpines boots. Did I really feel like lugging 10 pound boots up the gravel hill? Rhetorical question, don't answer. I didn't. Plus they're built much more for snow and ice.

Behind door number three were my Romeos. Ah, my trusty Where-For-Art-Thou's. They're comfortable, they're leather and waterproof, they've got a bit of a toe lip that I was sure could handle my semi-auto crampons. Oh yeah, and they're completely flat soled and without any sole grips.

Easy decision, right?

Tossing on my Romeos and strapping up my alpine back filled with all my gear (most of it), I set out to summit our esteemed Bird Ridge.

View to the south looking up Turnagain Arm of Cook Inlet

Things actually weren't too bad initially - other than the fact that snowshoeing all winter does not prepare one for vertical trial hikes. Travis - in his light weight Sportiva trail-running shoes and small backpack - was kicking my butt up the hill. But that's ok, the tortuous and the hair, right?

Wrong.

Snow! I'm used to this!

There were a few patches of snow - bigger than the one above - that I attempted to cross. With the slick-bottom Romeos - which held about as much traction as cast-iron pan cooking bacon - I felt flat on my face twice before deciding to put on the crampons. 

Perfect, the heels are too wide. Like 40% of Americans, my Romeos were too fat in the rear - the crampons wouldn't fit.  

Looking south into the Bird Valley 

Looking across Turnagain Arm at the Kenai Mountain Range

The false summit of Bird Peak

Instead, with each step I was forced to kick deep into the snow to prevent falling on my ass while attempting to refrain from shouting vulgarities at the passing trail runners who sped by me in Nikes, eyeing my 40-pound alpine pack with looks of frank bewilderment. Shuddup, I'm training! 

Looking north toward Powerline Pass and Suicide Peak

At that point, Travis had already made it up past the false summit to the true summit at 3400 feet. I estimate that my ascent brought me to about 3000 feet - not bad for wearing my Montagues and sliding all over the place.

Penguin Peak, south of Bird Ridge

-Patrick

Link to Bird Ridge details from Alaska State Trails Program: http://dnr.alaska.gov/parks/aktrails/mapguides.htm