Edge of the White Abyss

N 60°10'48"
W 149°41'04"

Time is running out. Only a mere 11 days stands between me and the road home, and that thought is always on the forefront of my mind. A few days ago, I made the conscious decision (with hast in mind) to wake up early and take on the Harding Icefield Trail. On my 2 consecutive days off, I went hiking both days. This is how day 2 went.

Dawn (if you can call it that) breaks sometime around 4:30am, but I made it out of bed about 3 hours later and headed south. Arriving just outside of Seward, we made our way down the only road from Seward to Kenai Fjords National Park. The day was filled haze that consumed most of Kenai Peninsula. Apparently there are three separate wild fires on the Kenai Peninsula which over the last week or so has created this veil of smoke that significantly diminishes visibility. Perhaps not the most ideal conditions, but time is of the essense. If not now then when?

At 9:40am, we set off from the National Park Service information center towards the Harding Icefield Trail. Down in the valley, Exit Glacier has carved out a nice flat space that the park service has set up an array of paved walkways and very well maintained trails that (with the exception of the asphalt) might as well be an Ancient Roman road. From the trailhead, the trail zigzags up the side of the mountain adjacent to Exit Glacier. Especially in the beginning the trail is wide, but as you climb in the thick vegitation well below the treeline, the trail starts to narrow to less than a foot wide. Within the first half mile, we came across our first wildlife encounter. A couple of Spruce Hens and a few of their chicks were moseying along the trail in front of us, almost unaware of pressence. We would not get another look at wildlife until reached the meadow, about 1000 feet above us.

The climb was toughest below the tree line. You have enough to put up with the heat (which Alaska is apparently in a heat wave... of the high 70s and 80 degree type) and the surprizing amount of humidity in the almost rainforest, moisture loving vegitation of the Alaskan summer, but the insects (mostly large flies and mosiquitoes) are so thick below the treeline that you practically hike up the trail constantly brushing a door curtain of six legged organisms out of your path. Below the treeline is never really that much fun.

Eventually trees turned to shrubs, and shrubs gave way to low levels of grass and wildflowers, and this made up the Marmot Meadow of the Harding Icefield Trail. Lush green fields of wild grass and rows of lupine decorate the slopes of the mountain side meadow. This is where we caught our next glimspe of wildlife. Just before the snowline, we came across what I can only describe as a mountain groundhog which actually is not far off. The horay marmot is in the squirrel family which also includes the more commonly known groundhog. The horay marmot inhabitats the meadow slopes along the Harding Icefield Trail, and they make this high pitched whistling noise to alert the others of pending danger all the while staying motionless. I thought he was just posing for a picture before scampering off.

This is where things start to get really interesting. Just before 2,000 feet in elevation, you begin to cross patches of snow melting into the lifeforce that supplies the multiples mountain side streams along the trail. These patches of snow which you have to cross can be as large of football field, and the powder is surprizingly soft. Hikers of the regularly traveled trail have craved through the snow patches with the soles of their boots. Some of the snow is so deep that their are literally streams running beneath your feet, as the melt water races down the mountain. This only becomes apparent when you rest next to one. You can literally hear the trickle of water under the snow. In other spots, large amounts of snow are wedge into a corner of the mountain which makes for large, faster melt water streams. If it is hot enough (like an Alaskan heatwave) the melt water can bore out a tunnel of snow and ice with a stream running in its interior. The tunnel we came across was just large enough for me to crawl about 10 meters inside which made for just one of the amazing shots (above) inside the ice tunnel.

We took our final rest literally on some cliffs that formed an island of rock in the middle of a snow and melt water river just off of the trail. At 2,475 feet in elevation and 2.25 miles down the trail, we sat in awe of the glacier, the mountains and the edge of the Harding Icefield. The glaciers deep crevasses looked of a mix between deep jagged scars of deep blue and white and soft slopes that rolled over the top of the Exit Glacier like the sand dunes of the Sahara. The mountains, opposite and parallel to us, created a beautiful backdrop for the entire scene with similar characteristics of our own mountain. But seeing just the tip of the icefiled was almost beyond belief. A couple of stubborn peaks protrude from the white abyss, and the collage of blues and whites eventually give way to a defined white landscape that I am calling white abyss. At this point in my life, I have never been on a better more beautiful hike.

Now we did not complete the entire trail of 3.7 miles, but on this trek, Brendan was not able to make it. So when he is free and ready to take on the moutain. We will hit the trail again, and this time I will finish it.