The Lost Summer

The summer or 2010 was one of the coldest, rainiest, and gloomiest summers on record in Anchorage. It rained for 31 days straight, breaking the record for the most consecutive days of rain in a row. And i'll let you know the weather didn't improve after that, we simply had one day when the rain paused for 24 hours. So aside from having fun with visiting friends and family, i didn't get much done in the way of hiking. Eventually i just started hiking in bad weather, either on trails i've done before just to get out of town, or in small areas i've always felt a nagging impetus to explore as i drove by.

One of those places was Bird Point. It's a little peninsula in Turnagain Arm covered in lush grasses and spots of thick trees. From time to time i've taken the dog out to some rocky shoreline near the road. The exposed stone benches there are worn smooth by the glacier that carved out Turnagain Arm, and it's a great spot to watch the tide go out in a dizzying rush of rapids.

I was trying to stick to the shoreline, but these muddy areas stretched well inland. Generally i had to walk around them because the mud alternates between being as slippery as ice when you set foot on it to forming concrete around your boots when you settle in.

The "frosty" grass is covered in mud from the high tide.

Because of the nature of the rocks, and the extensive mudflats on the west side of the peninsula, i've always thought it might hold some good opportunities for black and white photos, something i don't have a large supply of. One cloudy day i put on some fishing waders and drove out there to check it out.

Near Bird Point i spotted a juvenile grizzly on the beach. It was very skinny, eating discarded scraps of salmon washing up on shore from nearby Bird Creek. I don't why it wasn't over at the creek, unless it had been chased off by bigger bears.

Like most wild vegetated areas in Alaska, being there in the flesh is a whole different experience than watching from the comfort of a car. The beautiful grasses hide swampy water underneath, and if you think heading towards a more open area is a good idea, you'd be wrong. In those areas the water is too deep for the shoulder height grass to grow.

Crystal Lake. I've been here half a dozen times - but never in the sun.

On the way up to Crow Pass. This stream comes from a small glacier just a little higher up that i've never bothered with.

The woods aren't much better, choked with thick brush and alder navigation that i'm all too familiar with. I explored only about half of what i had planned before i'd had enough hardship and called it quits. Just before that point i did find some old remains of a homestead in the woods on the far side of the peninsula. I have no idea how the owner was getting back to the road, there were no signs of any path. I think that before the 1964 earthquake the whole area was 6 to 8 feet higher, meaning those flooded fields of grass would have been solid ground.

Raven Glacier, on the other side of Crow Pass, is another glacier that has melted dramatically since my first encounter with it. A rainy summer can actually do more damage to the ice than direct sunlight.

On the way down from Crow Pass i visited the cabin where we used to spend our holidays. It has a new owner now, and they have ripped off the large wrap around deck, thus the second story door in the air. The solar panels are new too. Goat Glacier is in the upper right.

Here's a short video showing some scenes in this group of blog posts: