Marching Through the Muskeg in Denali National Park

MUSKEG:  (1) bog; especially: a sphagnum bog 

of northern North America often with tussocks; 

(2) a usually thick deposit of partially decayed 

vegetable matter of wet boreal regions.

                                                                -- Merriam-Webster.com

And that is exactly what we marched through on our day-long trek in the interior of Denali National Park, led by intrepid Ranger Jordan.

On Tuesday, July 5, 2016, our trip started with a one-hour bus ride to mile 31 on the Park Road, well past Savage River, which is the furthest that personal vehicles can travel without special camping permits.  Ranger Jordan signaled the bus driver to stop and it spit us out on the side of the road.  We watched with mixed feeling as the bus rumbled on into the interior of Denali, trailing dust in its wake, leaving us to the tender mercies of Mother Boreal.

We probably each took a breath, knowing that we'd be trekking across the trackless muskeg without benefit of trail or signpost, when the first words Ranger Jordan spoke were:  "Well, I've never done this particular hike, so I'm not sure exactly what we'll find...."  However, he had scouted the route with binoculars the day before while out on another project, so he was pretty sure how he wanted us to attack our steady climb up to the summit of one of the nearby unnamed mountains.  Just to emphasize that he hadn't even had the benefit of a topo map, Ranger Jordan emphasized, "It'll be one of these peaks.  I can't tell you the name of it, because most of these peaks haven't been named.  I kind of like it that way because it feels more remote."

Yes, it does.

Our group consisted of Ranger Jordan, Kathy and David, and two families of four, one family from Australia with two teenage daughters, and another family from Albuquerque with two sons.  All were game, but we were a little surprised that parents would try to bring teenagers on what was billed a very strenuous hike of approximately 5 miles through muskeg and summiting a mountain.  Still, the kids did great, even to the point where, at the end of the hike, as we marched back down through the taiga forest to the bus, they forged ahead of Ranger Jordan like young pathfinders, fearless of what the untracked wilderness might throw at them.  The ranger had to remind them that, if they were in front, they had to remember to yell "Hey, Bear!" regularly in order to warn any local grizzlies that humans were coming and, really, if the bear didn't want to have to deal with teenagers, it would be smarter for the bear to amble off to other patches of tubers or berries.

After introductions, Ranger Jordan instructed us on the best way to bushwhack in groups through wilderness:  dispersed hiking, and we adopted that approach, following the route the ranger set in his lead position, but finding our own particular track on the cushy, mossy tussocks, which were often interrupted by invisible, covered, sudden holes - some with water in them:

Ranger Jordan is very experienced in the wilderness, relating stories of his extended solo trips through the backcountry.  He helped us spot signs of bear, caribou and moose, although we didn't actually see any of those animals on our hike.  At one point, he found a recently-shed caribou antler, which he pointed out was from a female because of its small size and simple branching:

Oh, did we mention there were mosquitoes.  That fellow to the left in the photo above was not simply scratching his ear out of nervous habit.

The topography steadily rose as we hiked, and soon we started to get panoramic views across the Teklanika River Valley behind us:

This photo gives you an idea what we had to high-step through.  Because we couldn't see under the surface moss, we would sometimes land on solid ground, sometimes on tippy rocks, and sometimes on nothing at all.  We were glad we had our trekking poles, as you can see Kathy demonstrating below, because they made us 4-legged animals, and we could keep our balance if our step found something unexpected:

Did we mention the views?  The geology here was fascinating:  ancient sedimentary rock which was then compressed mightily under the surface of the earth, then spit up through volcanism and such, layered over, then sculpted into rounded forms by repeated glaciation and subsequent rivers:

The hike was heavily aerobic because it combined uphill hiking with high-stepping through muskeg, so we took regular breath-and-water breaks about every quarter mile or so.  Here, Kathy demonstrates how to make friends with the muskeg on your rest break:

We steadily mounted higher, to a point where we could see lakes below that we could swear we must have hiked right by without seeing at the time.  The forecast had been for rain, and, while we got a steady procession of dramatic clouds and sun, it never rained - a blessing we couldn't rationally have hoped for.

Higher we climbed, until we reached the treeless arctic zone, marked by white mosses, lichen and exposed rock.  This was much steadier under foot, but the grade grew steeper, so there was a trade-off.  Still very aerobic.

We reached a major rest stop and viewpoint, where a few of our group of 11 took in the view.  This one young boy must have felt he was King of the World.  King he might have been, but the scale of this place completely dwarfs us insignificant humans:

With the rock exposed, we could see better what comprised the geology of this area.  Remarkably, the loose, ancient moraine held many rounded stones made of pure quartz in all colors.  We forgot to take a photo of the prettiest, which was a peach-and-orange-and-pink-and-white beauty with pinpoints of yellow and green lichen sprayed on parts of its surface.  But this very pretty one will suffice to give you the idea:

Higher we mounted until we reached a level where, like on the mountain opposite us, we were going to have to scramble up a face of loose glacial scree:

It reminded us of skiing above the tree line, except we were trying NOT to ski downhill as we crossed the loose stones and gravel.  Here, Kathy demonstrates the proper cross-hill, switchback technique.  Both in the muskeg and on the scree, we were happy we had our trekking poles.  Ranger Jordan had a pair that he used skiing down the scree, but none of the other hikers had them.  As a result, there was more than one hiker that stumbled or fell.  None were hurt though, because falling on muskeg is like falling onto pillow, and slipping on the scree was like a slow, easy slide - as long as you fell uphill and not downhill.

We finally reached the summit of our particular nameless mountain.  The wind at the top was heavy, so we ducked down on the lee side and found a green, soft spot to set up for lunch - and a rest well deserved.  David decided, after wolfing down his turkey wrap, to explore the length of the long ridge line of the top of the mountain, and turned to get this photo of the group, dwarfed by the rocks on the peak:

Kathy turned the tables and snapped this one of David with the Teklanika River in the background. Yes, Mooses (you know who you are), that is your RV campground marked by tiny white vehicles, just to the left of David's shoulder.  We wonder whether, when you're camping there, you'll be able to look up at those peaks to the south opposite the Teklanika River and see where we stood so proudly.

The view was dramatic, and the summit gave a great opportunity to take a video with this 360 view from the summit where we had lunch.  If you look closely, you can see our group hunkered down from the wind, munching their lunch.

While our route up had been meandering in order to take advantage of the least steep terrain and open areas free of tangled, head-high willow branches and roots, our way down was more direct.  You could almost snowshoe-ski down the scree and muskeg, so it was easier hiking, although we had one very long sidehill march, with very little purchase for our feet, and all of us felt it in our knees and ankles.  Still we had enough left in us that, as we got back to flatter land, near where the bus was to pick us up, we could raise our arms in Muskeg Victory!

We got lucky to be picked up by a bus with enough empty seats that all 11 of us could fit on it.  So no hikers were left behind to catch another bus.  The hour-long ride back to the Wilderness Access Center and our truck went quickly, because we were very happy to be off our feet.  (Well, David did report that his glutes were complaining a bit about being sat upon...sort of like when that masseur pounds on your sore muscles...it hurts so good.)

We'll give it a bit of a rest with a shorter, easier hike tomorrow, and then on Thursday we hope to take on Geode Mountain on our own - just Two Against the Wilderness - in hopes of conquering the muskeg flats and the stream crossings to find geode rewards on the rocky sides of the peak.  More on those adventures in the next blog entries.