Seward: Part 2
On Monday, I had a kayaking tour. We had to show up at the store at 9AM so that a shuttle could take us to the launch site. It was about a 15-minute ride.
There was a total of six of us. Two from Florida, a 50-something couple and their 16-year-old son from Virginia, and myself; all East Coasters, rare for Alaska. The kayaks were the 2-seater, tandem types. I was paired with the 16-year-old.
Resurrection Bay, the bay that Seward is on, isn’t very violent, but it can have somewhat big waves. Our kayaks were the type that have the spray skirts that wrap around the hole where you sit. Our kayaks also had a rudder for steering. Steering is done by pressing foot pedals rather than using your paddles. Before we started off, our instructor and tour guide, Cara, told us how to use the kayaks, put the spray skirts on, and get back on the kayak if we happened to capsize. She did make a point in telling us that, “We won’t be capsizing though, right?” After that, we started off.
For the most part we hugged the coastline. My partner and I, being younger than everyone else, were going much faster than everyone. At one point, Cara told us to slow down and let everyone catch up. We saw a couple of Harbor Seals while on our way. They would pop their heads out of the water and scan around looking at us. Then they would plunk their heads down and disappear into the water.
We eventually stopped at a small beach to hike and eat lunch. Unfortunately, because the other kayakers were tired this would be the furthest that we would kayak.
When people think of Alaska, no one thinks of rainforests, but this particular area of Alaska is a rainforest. When we got out of our kayaks, we walked along the beach to a short hiking trail. We passed over a moderately sized creek into the forest. The forests are extremely lush and green, the trees are very tall and thick, and there is thick, green underbrush off the beaten path. It’s incredible.
When we were making our way back to other side of the beach for lunch, there was a dog having the time of his life. He was running all over. I whistled to him and he came running up to me. Then he’d go run to some other thing that interested him. We made our way back across the creek. I threw a rock into the creek and the dog went crashing in. I don’t know if the owners appreciated that or not, but I’d throw another rock sending the dog crashing to another spot, confused as to where the splash went. The I’d do another. I had the dog zig zagging all up and down that creek.
Cara went back to our kayaks to grab lunch. We had sandwiches, soup, chips, and a cookie. After that, we got back in our kayaks and made our way back. The weather was changing, as it does in Alaska, the sky grew darker, and it started to lightly rain. The waves were larger than when we started. It wasn’t terrible, but the steering would lag as you went up and over the waves and we got wetter as we crested over the waves. At least once or twice we collided with my partner’s parents. I blame it on their steering, not mine. Eventually we made it back to shore. We all were pretty wet and cold.
The next day I would hike the Harding Icefield Trail via Exit Glacier. Harding Icefield is a huge icefield spanning over 700 square miles. Exit Glacier, true to its name, is named after the first crossing of Harding Icefield where the crossers, well, exited Harding Icefield. Clever, original, eccentric, lazy? You be the judge.
The Harding Icefield Trail is located in the Kenai Fjords National Park and is just over eight miles round trip and climbs almost 4,000 feet. The shuttle bus dropped us off around 10AM. The bus would be back at 3PM, so I had to get going.
The trail starts in lush rainforest, climbs up the snow-streaked mountains, and eventually plateaus to an overlook of Harding Icefield. I took almost everything out of my backpack except water and some snacks. I had my military surplus jacket on initially, but because of the steep elevation change I got hot very fast until I hit the snow. Actually, I was sweating pretty good at points.
Along the way, there are several stops where you can see Exit Glacier from different points of view. Many people just go to these and turn around. I didn’t do that of course, even though my knee was hurting. I stopped maybe two-thirds of the way up for pictures and a snack break. I asked someone to take my picture. I got started again. Now was the hard part.
The last third or so was on steep snow. The trail was marked with little orange flags. I put on snow cleats over my shoes, but they didn’t help much on the loosely packed snow that everyone was walking over. At points I would look up and think, “ok, that must be the top,” but I’d crest that peak and see tiny dots of people continuing up. It was pretty tough because of the slippery snow. In total, it took about three and a half hours to reach the top.
On a very clear day you would be able to see the streams of ice, but it was somewhat cloudy on the day I went. The ice and cloud sky blended into one. As I was coming down, it became much clearer and I got an excellent view of the glacier. My knee, however, was killing me, and I needed to catch my bus. I took a few pictures, but didn’t have much time to spare.
I’d step aside plenty of times to let other people pass me going down. When I got down from the snow and onto the stepped rock, my knee was in excruciating pain. It was the shock of landing on my knee. I’m sure some people heard my occasional outburst. I made it to my bus exactly at 3PM, just in the nick of time. It took me exactly five hours to complete the trail.
Later that day I went walking around the bay again. At one point I stopped at an RV to ask the guy a question. He invited me to have dinner with them. I had already eaten at this point, but I hung out with them and had a couple of drinks. It was a group of three friends and their families. I believe they all used to live in Anchorage, but two of them lived in Colorado now. They were in their late forties or early fifties. They were an extremely cool and down to Earth.
After they ate, they started a fire and we had smores. I talked with them from about 6PM to 1AM. One of their friends and his sons were participating in the Mount Marathon run the next day. More on that in a bit. I didn’t talk to them much, but, when they went inside to sleep, he came out a couple of times and asked us to keep it down. Nah, dude. You chose to camp out and knew the consequences. Go back inside and sleep, bro. We joked about it. “What, is someone feeling nervous?” “Aww, does someone have the butterflies?”
The Mount Marathon race is a race that has existed since around 1915. It starts in the town and climbs up the race trail of Mount Marathon. The race trail has an average slope of 34 degrees, but parts of it are much, much steeper. People have gotten seriously injured and died doing it. When they reach the top, they make their way down and run towards the finish line. Impressively, it takes 40 or 50 minutes for the fastest runners to complete it. You can tell how excruciating it is by the grimaces of people’s faces as they near the finish line. All of them are covered in mud, some in blood, and many, I assume, in delirium. People of all ages do it. There are young teenagers all the way up to some people in their 80s. There are three events; men’s, women’s, and juniors. The men’s event starts the earliest, so I missed that one. But I did see the women finish. My knee was hurting for them.
| A view of the snow-streaked mountains on the Exit Glacier Trail to Harding Icefield |
| In front of Exit Glacier |
| Me at the top |
| A view from the plateau overlooking Harding Icefield |
| A better view of Exit Glacier as the weather cleared |