Wrangell - St. Elias 1995

Back to McCarthy

Saturday, August 26 We received an interesting awakening this morning. Barbara and I were dozing when we heard Roger's voice moving toward the tent. When he was very close I yelled "What's going on?" He replied "There's a bear!" Barbara A then added "There's a huge black bear 30 yards from your tent." We quickly got out of the tent but our only view was the bear, loping off across the runway. Very big and very black, but not a grizzly. He was moving toward our tent, looking for groceries or, as I kidded Roger, for Roger's infamous "snack bag." The snack bag is a veritable cornucopia or goodies and sweets which Roger justifies by scientific data about how many calories he needs per day.

Barbara and I take our time after getting up around 8 am, while the others rush. Kelly said he would be here around "8:30 am." And, in typical Alaskan bush pilot fashion, he wasn't here by 9:30 either. Everyone else was packed and ready to go by 8:30 even though the plane could only take two or three people. That's obviously one difference in Barbara and I and the others, we don't rush unless there's really a reason to do so. We have the most leisurely morning yet, fixing breakfast under the tarp. Up canyon is a constantly changing picture as the dark clouds swirl around and among jagged peaks, providing a glimpse every now and then of the much higher mountains above. I am impressed that every hour of every day the picture changes in these mountains, with the changing colors and shades of vegetation, water, clouds, sun and precipitation all being part of nature's palette.

While we're eating a solo backpacker comes down the valley. His name is Jeff and he's the fellow that Kelly was looking for last night. Jeff works for Wrangell Mtn Air and is on a busman's holiday. Kelly dropped him off here last Tuesday and Jeff planned to hike up Glacier Creek Valley, over Glacier Pass, and down the other side to be picked up in Mill Valley. Unfortunately deep snow and high winds on the pass stopped Jeff and he had to return to the airstrip but was not able to make it by last night as planned.

This campsite has been the best weatherwise, no wind and pleasant to sit around outside. A few bugs appear in the morning but no biting mosquitoes. Finally, around 10:30 am, Natalie comes flying in. She slightly adjusts the people for the trip out from what we'd planned (our rule was last in, first out, i.e. you go out in the reverse order of coming in since everyone wanted to come in first and almost equally everyone wants to go out first; by that standard Anne and Dolph would go out first). Instead Anne, Barbara A and Tom go with Natalie, leaving Dolph to go with Kelly who shortly after flies up in a smaller plane that carries only one person. On the other hand it's very versatile and can land and take off just about anywhere there's 300 feet of runway.

The rest of us hang around. In front of the shack is a crude rocking chair, fabricated out of springs from a vehicle and wood, lashed together. Everyone gets photographs. The next flight is by Natalie, alone for some reason, and she takes Ray, Regina and Barbara. Finally, the last flight of both planes takes myself, Susie and Jeff in one and Roger in the single plane. We're back to McCarthy by 1pm or so. Everyone takes showers, puts stuff out to dry (the day is turning out to be unnaturally sunny), and makes a beeline to Taylormade Pizza for soft drinks, beer, salads, and calazone. Also some calls home. At 2:30pm all of us except Barbara and Regina gather at Wrangell Mtn Air for a 5 mile van ride to Kennicott.

Kennicott is as amazing a construction project as I've ever seen. First they built a railroad from Cordova, on the coast of Alaska, inland along and across huge rivers and through a true wilderness, to McCarthy and finally on up beside the Kennicott Glacier to Kennicott. The more or less abandoned town is perched on the mountainside along the old railroad grade, looking out over the 2-3 mile wide glacier that extends for seemingly endless miles up the valley. The glacier is really formed by the confluence of two glaciers, one pushing a reddish rock ahead of it and the other pushing a more grey rock. Above the rock is nothing but white ice to the horizon.

Kennicott is series of buildings, mostly painted deep red. The focal point is the main mine building that stairsteps up the side of the hill and is the one you see pictures of. It is extremely picturesque against the forested green slopes behind and the barren alpine slopes above. Ray and I walk all the way through town and then follow the old road a way above the buildings. We finally reach one of the old towers of the tram that went up to the mines. I climb the tower for a perfect view of the entire mining operation, from the Kennicott buildings down below (where the ore was crushed but not processed; the crushed ore was shipped to Washington for that) to the tram which snakes its way up to near the very tops of the alpine mountains above. It surprised me that the mines themselves were way above timberline; they honeycomb these high peaks. The tram was used to bring the ore down; one of the old cars that rode on cables is still hanging near the tower. Everything was abandoned in place in the 30's. A really impressive construction job, especially considering the terrible weather that's soon to arrive in these mountains.

We barely get back in time to catch the van. The ride back is interesting, as I sit beside one of the backpackers we met at Glacier Creek and listen to his conversation with the driver. They are both in their early twenties and are fantasizing about how to get real jobs as guides. Unfortunately, everyone wants such jobs, and the driver says that to get a job with the local St. Elias Guide Service you have to have twenty years' experience and have climbed all over the world. But, on the other hand, you can work for free pretty easily.

Back in McCarthy, we get off the van at the McCarthy Museum and look at old pictures of McCarthy and Kennicott. Just amazing what they did here. They had a newspaper, a wooden tennis court, athletic events with printed schedule, and so on. The McCarthy and Kennicott areas back then were pretty much cleared of vegetation. Now, it's mainly forested. McCarthy is in an aspen forest, broken by dirt roads and the remnants of what was once McCarthy, plus some newer buildings. John's Bed and Breakfast is built of plywood with tin roofs. The cabins are not painted, but he has painted his house kind of a pink color. Just up the street is a western movie type building with a false front and faded sign that says "George Marshall's Groceries and Meat and Hardware," also "General Merchandise." Now, it's a "private educational center" with beautiful, bright poppy-like flowers out front. Main Street has mainly the pizza place; a large gray false front "Ma Johnson's Hotel;" the McCarthy Lodge (advertising showers, rooms, cold beer, and meals), Wrangell Mountain Air (new building); McCarthy Air (new building); the McCarthy Museum; and a collection of old buildings. Outside Wrangell Mountain Air is Natalie and Kelly's 2 to 3 year old daughter. At one time, their air service and McCarthy Air worked together, but they split and, according to Jeff, they don't step foot in each other's premises anymore. It's still a little like a western movie here, but change is probably coming with the national park status.

John gave Barbara and Regina a tour of the entire area, while we were in Kennicott, including taking them up to Kennicott. On our way back, our van passed them, and Barbara yelled, "We're getting the up-close and personal tour." We all gather at around 7:00 pm, together with John, at the Tailor Made Pizza, for pre-ordered pizza. The bread is sourdough, and the pizzas are quite good. I love the bread, and they're huge. We way over-order and have, in effect, two large pizzas left over. Roger toasts everyone for becoming a better person on the backpack, which was obviously referring to Tom. I toast Ray for being the best belayer for his rescue of Barbara and me. I also say that it was a hard trip to me and everyone is to be congratulated for finishing it.

John provides some additional interesting information on McCarthy. Last spring, he counted the vehicles in McCarthy, when there were thirty people or less, and got a total of ninety- seven. Of course, he admits some of them weren't running. The closest mechanic is in Glenellen, over three hours away, so a lot of the work is done by the owners. The closest law enforcement is also in Glenellen, which is 45 minutes or more by air. Usually, no law enforcement problems. Except for the famous incident several years ago, which was the first I ever heard of McCarthy. Some crazy fellow up the road near the air strip decided he was going to blow up the Alaska Pipeline but that the first thing he should do was kill everyone he knew. So, he shot about eight people. Fortunately, one of them was not killed and managed to get help. The shooter is now in jail.

Everyone then walks around town, which doesn't take long, the entire town is maybe one-half mile long. It's getting cool; and, after the walk, we head back to the pizza place for dessert. Unfortunately, the generator is gone out, and there is no power. Everything here is heated by individual generators for the particular businesses or houses. So we have raspberry sherbet. While eating, the two van drivers come in. I asked one of them what he does on Saturday night, and he says, "Sometimes, I go across the river on the tram and hang out; sometimes, I hang out at McCarthy, mainly just hang out." Not really much going on, although they are planning to have a big Labor Day band and dance and are building a platform for it. It's soon our bedtime, and we're to bed before 10:00 pm.

A catch-up. Kelly told us on the flight out that what we saw was not a badger but a wolverine; there are no badgers in Alaska. He also pointed out on one of the flights where he and Natalie live in the winter. They lease a place in McCarthy in the summer but live west of the old, now washed out bridge across the Nizina River on the old road from McCarthy to the gold mining area at Dan Creek. Only a few spans in the middle of the river still remain. Natalie is from Australia, and we were slightly clued in by her accent. As she says, she's lost a lot of it. John told Barbara and Regina that he was married and has three teenaged kids. He lives here now with his mother and one of the sons comes up during the summer.

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