Alaska is a big state. Really big. If Alaska seceded from the United States, it would be the 17th largest country on Earth. Its immense size, mountain ranges, and coastlines provide a rich diversity of ecosystems like coastal forest, boreal forest, alpine, and tundra habitats. My family and I visited Alaska when I was only 12, but sometimes the feeling of a place gets into your bones and stays there. The perfect excuse to return arrived in the mail this spring when my brother was invited to a wedding on the Kenai Peninsula. That’s right, I wasn’t invited and any excuse would have been the perfect one. My family and I booked tickets immediately.
Homer, AK
Six foot swells tossed our water taxi while crossing the bay, and distant mountains sometimes disappeared as we dropped into the bottom of a trough. Sooty Shearwaters and unidentified shorebirds crossed the bow. I was a bit jealous of Common Murres that bobbed calmly with the rolling waves. I bet they never get seasick. Captain Dan dropped us on the shore and disappeared back into the churning tumult of Kachemak Bay, a seven mile wide arm of water reaching in from the Pacific.
Grace Ridge hike, photo by Graham Steinhauer
I had never heard of Grace Ridge until two days before when given some local advice but there we were at the trailhead, miles from any permanent house. Our climb started at sea level in the coastal temperate rainforest. A small black bear dashed off the path, and we took over his shift in harvesting blueberries. Boreal Chickadees greeted us, and a family of Brown Creepers corkscrewed around hefty limbs.
As we steadily ate away at the elevation of the mountain, forest turned to alder thickets and widely spaced spruce. Soon the trees and tall shrubs disappeared entirely and opened into one of the most beautiful and ephemeral systems I have ever visited, the alpine. Flowers of magenta and black to cobalt and gold were abundant on the rocky slopes. We stooped down to the plants’ level to inspect their strange petals, some of which were quite alien. Bumblebees drifted from flower to flower with snowpack only feet away. Bees still too chilled for such strenuous activity remained resting in the center of their chosen flower.
A bumblebee rests on a geranium, photo by Graham Steinhauer
Denali National Park, AK
There is only one road in Denali after you pass the visitor center. Park busses are the only transportation unless you receive a highly regulated and scarce vehicle permit. These constraints on human activity significantly reduce litter, noise pollution, and the degradation of fragile habitats. Ms. Frizzle dropped Calla and me off at the foot of Polychrome Mountain, a peak named after the purple, gray, and orange hues that layer the jagged behemoth.
Calla overlooks Polychrome Mountain. Photo by Graham Steinhauer
There was no schedule to follow or tour guide, and we wandered a bit aimlessly downhill to a tiny ice cold lake. Two immature Goldeneyes slept peacefully with heads under wings. Ducks live in the mountains… a wonderful fact with a tinge of absurdity. After descending many feet of precious altitude, we looked up at our original goal. The mountain’s peak seemed much more above us than in front, and there was no trail. Calla and I stopped frequently to share snacks, take a drink, and pretend we weren’t breathing so heavily. Some of the climb required four limbs, especially on the steeper talus slopes. Vibrant lichens of all colors and shapes coated the rocks.
Vibrant lichens, photo by Graham Steinhauer
Caribou on Polychrome Mountain, photo by Gregg Steinhauer
Nearing the peak, Calla led the way over the top of a ridge. I noticed a rock curiously shift position a few yards ahead of her. Then I realized the rock had eyes. “Calla stop, look left!” I said. The little Ptarmigan twitched again and ruffled its feathers. Calla wordlessly pointed down right in front of her at a bare patch of ground. Another Ptarmigan, given away only by its shape, crouched nearly within an arm's reach of her.
A master of camouflage, a Ptarmigan blends in with the surrounding rocks. Photo by Graham Steinhauer
Summer snowpack is lots of fun! Photo by Graham Steinhauer
On the bus to Polychrome Mountain, we saw mountains, a glacier, brown bear, several caribou, and dall sheep. These are no doubt powerful and humbling sights, but they are not the only things to see. Much of our world is centered around scheduling and productivity, including vacations. People speed walk from exhibit to exhibit. They view the world through their phone screen while snapping images of the “important” things. Things often recommended by a travel guide or yelp review. You’ve all seen this type of box checking at museums or a beautiful overlook, and we all fall into this behavior sometimes.
Pictures are excellent tools to remind ourselves of a special experience and good advice is crucial to avoid floundering in an unfamiliar place. Just make sure that you’re in charge of your schedule instead of the other way around. And take it slow sometimes. You could never learn every detail about your own hometown, so good luck with a state 10.5 times larger than Wisconsin. If you don’t take your time, how will you find the ptarmigan?
Written by Graham Steinhauer, Goose Pond Sanctuary land steward
