Alaska diary: The Kenai (Exit Glacier to Hidden Lake)

Nunataks are appearing on Kenai ranges where ice and snow have melted earlier and been absent longer as a result of rising global temperatures.  In fact, the highest gain in average temperatures on the planet is occurring above and near the Arctic Circle -- not good news for the wildlife or people living in this region.  And the consequences of a shrinking polar ice cap spread far beyond the Arctic.  Think twice before throwing the family fortune at a beachfront property.

What is a nunatak (besides the name of the boat we took yesterday to Fox Island)?  According to Wikipedia, the word is Inuit and refers to the "exposed, often rocky element of a ridge, mountain, or peak not covered with ice or snow within (or at the edge of) an ice field or glacier."

Our drive this morning to see the Exit Glacier just outside of Seward provides a stark illustration of how rising temperatures are shrinking ice fields and exposing what lies beneath.

On the road in and along the trail from the visitor's center to the base of the glacier, small signs bearing dates from the 1800's to the 1960's indicate where the edge of the glacier extended in various years.  To give an idea of how much the glacier has receded, in 1962 it would have been a couple hundred feet from the visitor's center.  It now is a 30-minute hike away.  In the 1880's, the ice covered the entire valley pictured in the photo [left].

The remaining glacier still carves an impressive swath through the mountains, but it continues to shrink at rates faster than observed at any time in the past 150 years.

The Kenai Fjords Wilderness Area is, as the name implies, off limits to auto traffic.  The only exception is vehicle access at the Exit Glacier.  We drive about 8 miles in from the Seward Highway and find a parking place amidst the rows of cars and RV's.  Our goal is to hike to the Harding Ice Field above the glacier, about a 2 hour trek according to signs posted at the trail entry near the visitor's center.

With day packs, water, and protein bars, we begin a steady climb through a heavily wooded area.  The first half hour we see a couple of hikers and lots of wildflowers:  fireweed, columbine, larkspur, wild geranium, paintbrush, fleabane, cinquefoil, cow parsnip  The trail suddenly emerges onto a rocky outcrop overlooking the foot of the glacier.  Here the crowd is larger, all with cameras at the ready.  The fissures in the ice at this level seem carved by melting rivulets for the most part.  The wall of ice still looms 20 feet thick, a robin's egg blue under the surface where it has compacted over time.  We take our own photos and continue up the trail.

The climb is steady and we both are sweating.  We pass two crews who are pruning the undergrowth back from the trail, some by hand, others with spades or pulaskis.  Most look like their clothes have not seen detergent in at least a week.  I notice sweat dripping from the headbands of several hard hats, despite the fact everyone appears to operating in slow motion.  They seem a dispirited bunch, another troop of college-aged volunteers who have had their summer of fun and now are dreaming of a hot bath at home, far away from the wilderness.

Another 45 minutes up the trail and we arrive at a natural overlook.  Five groups of hikers, including us, take turns standing on a vantage point for photos.  We can see a group of adventurers out on the glacier far below.  They move deliberately between massive cracks in the ice, advancing about 50 yards while we observe them over a drink and snack.  The Harding Ice Field, which feeds this and several other glaciers, is at the top of a steep wall and switchback trail we can see from where we have stopped.  Intent on driving to the Skilak Lake area yet today, we decide to head back down.

On our descent we pass a group that announces they have spotted a black bear moving across the terrain on the far side of a ravine that splits our trail from the facing mountainside.  We pause several times to scan the area but fail to see the bear.

The drive up the Seward Highway and back to the Sterling Highway includes patches of sunshine.  By the time we arrive at the first campground on the Skilak loop off the main highway, we hold out hope that the weather may be turning in our favor.  We have our pick of campsites at Hidden Lake.  I pay the senior rate at the check-in station and we set up the tent, then decide to go for a hike before dinner to explore.

A commemorative trail ventures off from the road in our camping area.  Tall birches and spruce are widely spaced, and the undergrowth is much more sparse than what we have seen thus far in Alaska.  But bearberries and wild currants clump together under some trees.  We chat about plans for tomorrow, where we might fish and tackle shops mentioned in the Flyfishing in Alaska book I've downloaded on my iPad.

"A bear," says my brother, Dale, suddenly.

We both stop.  A hundred feet in front of us, off the trail, a black bear munches in a stand of berry bushes.  The bear easily weighs 250 pounds, maybe more.  His back is visible above the undergrowth, about the elevation of my waistline.  We snap a couple of quick pictures, talk softly to the bear, who shows no sign of our presence, and back away.  My heart is racing.

The camp does not have bear storage lockers, so we pack everything into the trunk of the car after dinner.  Since it is still early and light, we drive up the road several miles parallel to Skilak Lake.  A black bear sow and cub poke their heads out from the brush at the roadside.  We see another cub later.  This is Jellystone Park.  I'm hoping we are smarter than the average bear.

After Dale shoots some stunning late evening photos, we return to camp and build a fire from wood left at one of the vacant sites hoping the smoke and heat send a message.  Bears visit elsewhere.

After several games of cribbage, we crawl into our bags and dream of large fish.  Trout and dolly varden are the targets in this area, although the reds and silvers should also be in the bigger rivers and creeks.  We'll find out more in the morning.  The evening sky is now clear.  Tonight will be cool. We may be wishing for a small dose of global warming before dawn.