Mosquitoes, Rivers, and Icebergs...Oh My!!

All cleaned up for a night on the town, or at least the porch, with Brian and Phil

Taking advantage of staying in one of the back country cabins managed by the Forest Service to bake Calzones for dinner

Phil contemplates the icebergs

Bear tracks in the mud at the mouth of the Stikine

One of the cabin's we stayed in on the Stikine River

Launching on the first day of the second leg with the Devil's Thumb in view

After a long stretch and a good push on the first leg, we opt for a shorter route with more opportunity for exploration. Departing from Petersburg, we had a rare warm, clear day with full views of the Devil's Thumb (of recent fame from two of John Krakauer's books, an ominous peak). This of course turned back into cloudy skies and rain for the next 5 days. After racing through Dry Straight, where you need 8 ft of tide in order not to get stuck in the mud (this is higher than the highest tides in S.F. Bay), we hitched a ride from a jet boat up the Stikine River.

The Stikine

The Stikine is a massive river (with spring flows greater than 100,000 cfs) which extends well up into Canada for its headwaters and is fed by a number of glaciers. Some of the Alaskans we had met had told us that the Stikine was beautiful and worth checking out, when we asked about bugs, they would ponder the question then generally reply, "yeah...it might be a little buggy up there?" I have never experienced mosquitoes like we had on the Stikine. Literally, hundreds of them swarming all over us as soon as we got off the boat. The jet boat driver opened the front window to say goodbye, when he stuck his head out his eyes got silver dollar size before he quickly said, "yeah, o.k., have a great time, bye." He was gone in about 2 seconds. Inside the cabin they persisted, entering through cracks in the door, swarming at the window. Phil set his tent up inside the cabin in order to escape to his "fort." We wonder whether we have made a huge mistake?

Eventually cabin fever gets the better of us and we brave the water. We head upstream towards the glacier and with the cooling air the mosquitoes subside. Beaver, phenomenal views, and our first floating ice. The following day, we paddle up stream for a few miles to visit the hot springs (enclosed and free of bugs), the nicest public hot springs I have ever been experienced. We run into some locals (8 of them) who have one goal for the weekend, to finish at least one of the the 2 kegs they have brought (plus the tequila and the other cases of beer). With all that they forgot to bring any water or any means to purify/filter. We start to wonder how many of the other boats on the river are filled with folks boasting similar goals...suddenly I am less worried about the bears.

It is nice to paddle with 5 mph of current. We sleep in, read, cook, bake and eat (home made mac and cheese, calzones, Cinnamon rolls, strudel, foccacia bread, halibut chowder...those of you who know me know that all the above mentioned items are 100% Phil...there is a reason I brought the guy on the first two legs of the trip...beyond all of the other reasons like being a solid paddler, fun to travel with, and an all around great guy). The Stikine is a glimpse into the interior with its mountains, rivers, and bugs.

Into Le Conte Bay

As we round the bend, our first real icebergs come into view, on the horizon they look clustered and massive. My leisurely mode shifts to heightened awareness. So many different colors, shapes, sizes, textures...everyone is different. Phil paddles up to a house sized, triangular berg with a deeper blue than the sky above. I try to comprehend the story of this one berg, snow falling in the winter gets compacted by years and years of subsequent snowfall increasing in density to something like 10 times the ice in our freezers. Over hundreds or even thousands of years it continues to compact as it slowly slides and scrapes its way down the valley, transforming the rock below from a "V" shaped river valley into a "U" shaped valley characteristic of those modified by glaciers. Eventually reaching the terminus and calving off into the bay where it dove deep before surfacing 10 minutes later (long after the huge wave it kicked up has dissipated). Over many days, it slowly floats down the bay, moving out with the ebb and back in with the flood, traveling many miles while ultimately moving only a short distance each day? How many days had this berg had of its dance back and forth along the corridor of the bay? Where would it float from here? How many days would it take for the melting process to undo the many, many years it took to form?

So you can probably picture us now, floating around a little glassy eyed pontificating in truncated thoughts without much coherency. It is one of the most unique experiences either of us has had paddling, and that is just the entrance to the bay! When we reach camp that night we meet an odd character who has been there for 10 days and plans to spend 3 weeks there...he is deep in a different zone.

Our efforts to paddle to the face of the glacier are thwarted by winds pushing a river of ice down the bay. I bump into a few small bergs and feel the jolt throughout my fiberglass boat, the sound of these "taps" is as if the boat is about to be crushed. We sit in an eddy and watch the ice move past, mesmerized again. Time to move back to so as not to get trapped in by the ice flow.

We have run into our jet boat captain a few more times on the trip. The day before he brought us some Halibut which we made into chowder...MMMMMM. He is a young guy in college and each time we see him is is talking about "these college girls who are kayaking some where up here." Later in the day a group shows up in our cove, it is only the second group of expedition kayakers we have seen in our 3 weeks on the water and the first with whom we interact. Phil is on the shore chatting when I arrive... the head guide and I look at each other, he sais, "do I know you?" For those of you in the Yosemite, Missoula worlds, it is Dave Morris. The first kayakers we see and it is some one I know. He confirms that yes there was much chatting between some of his students and our jet boat captain. Some things feel so foreign to me up here and some things are universal.

We head out in the morning, picking our way through the ice flow. The water is still, as still as we have seen. We are paddling through a garden of sculpted ice, thousands of bergs in the water, on shore, of different sizes, shapes, colors...we are againg mesmorized. 5 miles of iceberg garden paddling, eddy hoping behind rock and ice eddys, a windy/wave filled 5 mile crossing and we arrive back on Mitkof Island, only a few miles from Petersburg. We decide to come in early for burgers and beer. Once again we are greeted by our friend Bob, who drives out to pick us up, store our boats, and drop us off at the hotel-what a guy!

Brian arrives this afternoon and Phil flies out tomorrow. On Sunday, Brian and I will paddle down the Wrangell Narrows (20 miles long and a few hundred yards wide at some spots) It floods from both the north and south, so we will ride the flood to the midpoint then continue south on the ebb...a feat of timing. We head past Wrangell and continue south through more narrows and down to the Anan Creek bear preserve and viewing spot. After laying over there, we will head out to Clarence Straight and down to Ketchikan by August 14th in time for me to catch the ferry south on the 15th.

Don't forget that you all can post your comments on here, I would love to hear back from folks.