Growing Older at Caribou Bluff

Curtains of northern lights dance above Caribou Bluff cabin

I stood at the edge of the bluff in front of the small log cabin. Even though I have seen the northern lights illuminate the sky an uncountable number of times in my life, I am still mesmerized by the silent beauty of every display. Each time it's a different performance; sometimes turning into an explosion of colors shooting quickly across the sky, and other times a shy green streak that dimly fades away into the starlight.

On this night I remained deathly still as I attempted to visually contemplate which direction and with what intensity the next wave of light would pursue. The green arc eventually faded and the show was over. But I remained standing at my perch on the bluff, a bit disappointed that there was no grand finale. I was suddenly aware of the warm glow emanating from the cabin window, the swirl of smoke rising from the chimney, and the muffled laughter of my friends inside. I was overwhelmingly happy to be here to celebrate the beginning of another year in my life...

This was a quick weekend trip into the White Mountains. Six of us traveled by skis, and one on a bike with fatty tires. We propelled ourselves 30 miles out to the Caribou Bluff cabin and then an additional 30+ miles back to the road.

This was an especially special trip. It has been nearly a year since Dea received her kidney transplant. After many months of building up her endurance, she was able to join us on this this vigorous ski traverse. Not too long ago, I could only fondly imagine a time when I could see Dea out enjoying a dialysis-free lifestyle. Now it's become a reality.


A video story from Caribou Bluff.

Spring on the Quest Trail

Brian hauls ass down Rosebud Summit on the Yukon Quest trail

The Yukon Quest sled dog race took place almost two months ago. Since then there have been several heavy snow and strong wind storms that slammed the portion of route just northeast of Fairbanks. I figured that any remnants of a trail may have been completely obliterated by the active weather back in March. Brian and I decided to gamble and attempt to ski the section that traverses across the uplands between the Steese Hwy and Chena Hot Springs. We found an absolutely stellar snowmachine trail linking the two roadways.

The unassuming 35-mile stretch between the Steese Hwy and Chena Hot Springs Rd is often overshadowed by the treacherous conditions encountered over Eagle Summit. But this segement is also notoriously known for horrendous winds and snow conditions as the trail climbs Rosebud and Boulder summits. The trail has some gnarly descents and steep pitched climbs, ice patches, and wind scoured tundra - which all pose major challenges for a dog team.

Dea is back in action with her new kidney! She is peeing like crazy now and looks healthier than ever since she is no longer undergoing dialysis 3-times a week. She and Ben shuttled us out to the trailhead on the Steese Hwy. This gave her the opportunity to do her first out of town ski since the transplant.

Brian and Jose ski down the Birch Creek valley.

Brian and I are all smiles. I forgot how easy skiing can be when the trail is nice and the weather is warm.

Leftover patches of sastrugi on Boulder Summit are a reminder that this is a harsh, wind-swept environment for most of the winter. A lonely piece of lath marking the remains of the Yukon Quest trail is barely visible.

Brian descends into Boulder Cr...which form part of the headwaters of the Chena River.

A continuous accumulation of overflow ice during the winter had completely innundated portions of the Boulder Creek drainage. This made for bullet-fast skiing.

Mission Aborted...

Christie soaks up the sun on a peak in the Alaska Range

The Plan: Traverse the Alaska Range on skis from east to west beginning at the Tok Cutoff and ending at the Richardson Highway. The entire distance is 80 to 100 miles depending on the route taken. We expected the trip to take approximately 7-8 days.

The Problem: Difficult snow conditions combined with multiple channels of open water on the Tok River bogged us down the first few days. We anticipated some sort of packed snowmachine trail for the first 30-miles or so. Unfortunately no one had traveled in this area all winter and unusually heavy dumps of snow had fallen this spring. This resulted in slogging along from the beginning. We expected the first stretch to be our 'gravy' days with easy travel.

Mission Aborted: We decided to retreat since we cashed in our buffer days from the start which we had allotted for potential bad weather and snow conditions later in the trip. Since we had extra time we spent a day climbing an un-named peak before trudging back to the road. We may try this traverse again next year.

Our planned route took us along the south side of the Alaska Range between the Tok Cutoff and the Richardson Hwy. If time allowed we intended to traverse several glaciers en route to our destination.

I packed 7-days of food into gallon size ziplock bags. Each days ration of grub weighed about 2.5 lbs.

An easy water crossing on a small creek near the start of our trip. The following day we had to navigate through a maze of deep, open channels on the Tok River.

Any little bit of water that came in contact with our skis froze instantly and needed to be scraped off. This can be a time consuming chore...

Farther along in the trip we had to search around for ice bridges in order to cross the river...otherwise we would have to walk through water above our knees. This was tedious and also absorbed a lot of time.

The remains of a snowshoe hare. As we approached...we unintentionally spooked the owl that had taken down this little guy.

Our camp on the Tok River. It was a cold night as the temperature dropped to -25F (-32C) and a breeze blew down the valley.

Christie and I trying to warm ourselves up with hot food and the first rays of morning sunlight.

We attempted to dry out our sleeping bags while we packed up each morning. Significant frost would build up in our down feather bags overnight. We kept our ski boots and water bottles in our bags to keep them warm. We also would keep damp clothing in our bags in order to dry them out using the heat of our bodies. All this results in an accumulation of moisture in the bag over time and causes the bag to lose its insulating properties.

Linda and Lowell have been living remotely on the Dry Tok River for about 14 yrs. Dan and I met them when we passed through this area last June (Gillette Pass Traverse). They normally travel up/down this valley on snowmachine through the winter and we expected to have a good trail for the first part of our trip. This winter they stuck around the house and never snowmachined out to the road. Thus...no trail for us to cruise on.

Visqueen Camp - we came across this hunting camp just before nightfall during our traverse. The structure has a frame constructed of spruce trees and walls/roof made of visqeen (plastic) house wrap.

Visqueen camp was a welcome break from camping in the sub-zero temperatures. It even had a small wood stove.

Visqueen camp was still cold after the stove puttered out during the night.

When we realized that it would be difficult to complete our traverse during our 8-day window - we decided to spend a day climbing Visqueen Peak before retracing our tracks back to our starting point.

Minnie me (Ed) and Christie climb up Visqueen peak.

Looking back down the Dry Tok River Valley.

We had to make our way on foot with crampons in order to reach the summit of Visqueen Peak.

Ice Skiing Through the Mountains

A trail sign in the White Mtns protrudes from the slim snow cover

Unbelievable... These were the only words I could mutter as we approached the Moose Creek cabin which rests on the edge of an open meadow in the White Mountains. It was just after midnight when we skied up the spur trail leading to the front porch. The temperature was 50 degrees above zero (+10 C). On this evening, portions of interior Alaska were experiencing the warmest January temperatures ever recorded since weather records began over 100 years ago.

I was dumbfounded. I just couldn't swallow the reality of this situation - that the atmosphere could possibly be so warm on a mid-January night just south of the Arctic Circle. But it was, so I struggled to embrace the unusual scene and tried to ignore the ramifications such warmth would have on the snowpack. Instead of the normal routine upon arrival at a cabin of firing up the wood stove and quickly shedding damp clothes, we propped open the door and windows and let the balmy southeast wind sweep through the log structure.

Our weekend traverse took us across the network of snowmachine trails through the jagged limestone peaks which define the heart of the White Mountains north of Fairbanks. We skied about 100 miles from one trail head to another and spent several nights in the cozy public use cabins en route.

After the temperatures dropped back below freezing the trail transformed into a rutted and icy luge run. This made the skiing extremely treacherous as we careened down the narrow trail and negotiated each turn with a bit of terror because the only way to stop was to plow into the surrounding brush.

Klister - John applies the tree sap-like substance to the base of his skis in order to get some kick, or the ability to push off the snow to propel forward. Not even the stickiest of ski products would perform on the icy path.

Dan and John take a break at the re-constructed Crowberry cabin. The original cabin was destroyed by a forest fire in 2004.

The skiing improved dramatically when a little fresh snow accumulated on the rock hard surface of the ski trail. This made us very happy because we were able to actually ski under control.

A glacial blue layer of water quickly fills our ski tracks as we cross a large area of glare ice on Fossil Creek. The water was just deep enough to splash over the toes of our ski boots. Areas of liquid water insulated by a layer of snow are not uncommon even in the coldest weather. At temperatures well below zero, the water will freeze instantly when it is exposed to the air, encasing your skis with ice and freezing ski bindings shut. This can make it impossible to remove the skis from the boots. Fortunately we have learned a few tricks to resolve this problem.

Kicking back in the Windy Gap cabin. The public use cabins in the White Mountains have a table, bunks, lantern, and stoves. A well deserved reprieve after a long day of skiing in the cold.

The logbook is full of stories and experiences of past travelers who found refuge in the cabin.

Dan negotiates some angled glare ice on the slope just outside the Windy Gap cabin. Large lobes of ice tend to form where groundwater seeps to the surface and interacts with the sub-zero air.

The guys ski towards a rocky precipice which looms above windy gap.

Sitting silently at the crest of the limestone ridge is the natural Windy Arch. It looks like something you would see in southern Utah except it is constructed from limestone.

Where is the snow? After skiing across ice, through water, and over brush we came to an area where the snowpack had been completely obliterated by the record January thaw. We found ourselves bridging our skis between large, grassy tussocks for several miles. Suddenly the trail conditions we had encountered the previous days didn't seem so unfavorable any longer...

Hear the chatter of our skis in this video clip compiled by John:

Winter Solstice at Horner Hot Springs

Sunrise: 11:28 AM, Sunset: 3:13 PM, Total Sunlight: 3hrs 45min

The tarp-lined pool at Horner Hot Springs is a winter oasis.

We boarded the small fixed-wing aircraft fully draped in our ski clothes and boots on a flight headed about 250 miles west of Fairbanks. Dan and I were traveling out to the remote village of Ruby on the banks of the Yukon River. As with most Alaskan villages, Ruby can only be reached by plane or by a lengthy trip down the Yukon River via boat, snowmachine, dogsled, or skis. Our plan was to arrive in Ruby, strap on our skis right on the airport tarmac, and then travel up-river to spend winter solstice soaking in the warm waters which percolate to the surface at the oasis known as Horner Hot Springs.

Horner Hot Springs is located about 25 miles up-river from Ruby. Information online was sparse about this springs perched above a small creek about a mile north of the Yukon River. Back in its heyday in the early 1900's, Horner Hot Springs was a popular stop for miners, trappers, and natives traveling the Yukon River -- which during the pre-aviation era the river was essentially a superhighway bisecting Alaska.

Dan skis from the airport down into Ruby. Gold was discovered near Ruby in the early 1900's but the settlement was officially founded in 1912 and at it's peak had a population close to 3000. Red garnets in the area were confused as "rubies" and the town was mistakenly named. Ruby has remained a native village since the gold rush ended.

We worked for food during our ski to Horner Hot Springs. Sam and Tamara are building the remote Yukon River Lodge about 15 miles upriver from Ruby. We were treated like kings in their "under construction" but warm home during our trip to/from the springs. These super friendly folks hope to have it open for year-round business sometime the next year or so--please visit them!

We encountered a mixture of conditions while skiing up the Yukon River. Large sections of the channel were impassable due to vertical knife-like blades of jumbled ice which formed during freeze-up. There was a nice snowmachine trail for a portion of the trip but strong winds in this area result in deep drifts, wind scoured glare ice, and slab crust which would frequently collapse from our weight. There were also a few stretches of overflow water hiding silently under the snowpack which would wet our boots and lock up our ski bindings.

Horner Hot Springs is situated about a mile from the Yukon River on the south flanks of the mountains known as the Kokrines in the background. We broke trail through thigh deep snow to get up to the springs.

The hot water in this area seeps from the surrounding hillside. A small collection pond dug into the embankment above provides water to a pipe which feeds the springs below. The temperature was a comfortable 103F(39C)degrees. There wasn't much flat real estate adjacent to the springs but we were able to find just enough space to set up our tent.

Dan crashes at the luxury accommodations at the Ruby airport while we wait for our plane back to Fairbanks. Fortunately for us it was a warm +10F (-12C)...

Here is a link to an old photograph of Horner Hot Springs: old photo. A pipe carrying hot water from the hillside is visible behind the cabin. Notice how the the faint caption appropriately says, "A sure cure for grouch, rheumatism, and the blues." The remains of this log structure appear to have completely dissolved into the soil of the surrounding boreal forest.

Here is also a link to some fascinating historical shots from the Ruby area when it was a bustling goldrush town: Ruby in the past.