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Alaska State Parks Blog
2023
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Ernest Gruening State Park - Matthew Dickerson, September, 2022.
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Morning. Peterson Salt Chuck.
The morning air is thick and brooding. The world feels muted. Reflected on the still surface of the Peterson Salt Chuck, spruce trees blur together, and clouds appear more green than gray. On the far shore, above the water, a waiting world unfolds in layers of hues: the softer yellow-green of shoreline grasses giving way to the darker spruce whose spires point skyward toward the taller and more distant peaks of Mount Ernest Gruening where last winter's snow still clings to gray slopes beneath a heavy slate sky.
A pair of trumpeter swans rest in the stillness at the far side of the estuary, icons of grace and elegance, as solemn and majestic as the peaks behind them. At the first hint of disturbance in their throne room, they turn and disappear behind the grasses into their private chambers. A lone bald eagle remains behind, on guard, looking down on the Peterson Salt Chuck from atop a tall spruce near the falls where the brackish water pours down into the ocean.
Below the surface, invisible to the eagle's sharp eyes, silver salmon swim slowly across the chuck—a final journey that brings them from ocean brine up into the cool freshwater where their eggs will soon fall on river-bottom gravel. Sea-run Dolly Varden char with silvery green sides follow the salmon upstream to feast on any eggs that drift free.
I am raptured by the holiness of the moment, of the place, the sanctuary in which I now stand. Speech seems sacrilege. A family of river otters swims down Peterson Creek. Constantly diving and darting around and beneath one another, they are impossible to count. I give up trying, and simply delight in their presence. Even their play is holy. A sacred dance.
Afternoon. Amalga Harbor.
The heavy blanket of gray has lifted. The brooding ceiling has turned to a cheerful blue picnic ground where clouds, white and weightless, swim and dance across the sky like playful otters. The shoreline trees are brighter now. Their tops crisp and sharp against the azure backdrop as they soak in the midday light.
The tide is out. The waters of Peterson Creek have their last chance to play as they tumble down from the Salt Chuck and into Amalga Bay where they are swallowed up in the ocean's vastness, as blue and wide as the sky above. Gulls the color of the clouds hop on the rocks plucking food scraps out of the seaweed left behind by the receding tide. Some take to wing where they bob and flutter in the breeze while scanning the brine below for their next meal.
The bald eagle still waits on his tree, guarding the flowing path from ocean to lagoon, lagoon to ocean. A harbor seal patrols the water below, also waiting for another school of silver salmon as they start their final journey, ascending the falls, crossing the salt chuck, and swimming up Peterson Creek to some secret spot where male and female will pair up for the one and only time in their lives—to spawn and then to die, ending one generation, and starting another.
A raft of sea otters visits, bobbing and rolling like their smaller river otter cousins. The passing mergansers bob too, but in more orderly lines. A lone raven, black and yet as bright and shiny as the gulls, watches the drama from its perch nestled in the branches of a shoreline spruce.
Evening. Lynn Canal from Eagle Rock Cabin.
The water is pale blue in the late afternoon light, swirled in elusive patterns of wind and scattered rain. Out in the offing near the edge of Amalga Bay not far from where ferries and cruise ships pass up Lynn Canal, a pair of humpback whales breach. Their spouts reveal their presence to any fortunate passers-by watching from shore. Two magnificent pairs of flukes rise high in the air, one after another, and slip away.
Quiet returns. Wooded islands appear dark and mysterious. At low tide, rocks rise above the water far from shore, like passing humpbacks that never pass. Never spout. Never lift their flukes. Excited exclamations of "whale!" fade to embarrassed mumbles of "never mind."
When fog grows thick or rain rolls in hard and steady, the majestic heights on the far shore disappear behind the curtain. At those times, one might believe this water a mere canal as its name proclaims, and not one of the deepest and longest fjords in the continent. Today that does not happen. Although a cloud dome has once again spread across the sky above, the long row of mountains rising thousands of feet above sea level are still visible across the water. My eyes are drawn there now, to the heights and slopes of the Chilkat Range that divide Glacier Bay National Park and Tongass National Forest—iconic snow-capped peaks and white-splotched mountainsides guarding glaciers and deeper snowpacks in the valleys between. I look at the heights but only imagine the depths, carved by the slow and patient weight of time and glacier, directed by the invisible hand of the Great Sculptor.
The view from Ernest Gruening State Historic Park is magnificent. It can leave one wordless. Even breathless. Or, rather, full of breath. At once both sated and longing.About the Author: Matthew Dickerson (www.matthewdickerson.net) was an artist-in-residence for Alaska State Parks in 2022. His creative non-fiction writing about Alaska has been published in various journals, magazines, and newspapers as well as in the books 'The Voices of Rivers: Reflections on Places Wild and Almost Wild' (published by Homebound Publications in 2019) and the forthcoming book 'The Salvelinus, the Sockeye, and the Egg-Sucking Leech'. Matthew Dickerson lives in Vermont and teaches at Middlebury College. He is a member of the Outdoor Writers Association of America
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2022
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The Gift of Adventure - Kate Ayers
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We all know that Alaska State Park Public Use Cabins (PUC) are a hot commodity these days. Therefore, what better holiday gift to give than a night or two at an Alaska State Park PUC? There is a cabin out there for everyone, who is on your list?
Drive-Up Explorer
These cabins are for people who want to load the car, have a short drive, and unload gear at the front step of a cozy cabin. These cabins are perfect for families with little ones, or those that have mobility constraints.
- Bore Tide Cabin (Chugach State Park)
- Birch Lake Cabin (Northern Region)
- Rhein Lake Cabin (Nancy Lake State Recreation Area)
Adventure-Lite
These cabins are for people who want to get away from the crowds, but at the same time can get back to the car quickly if needed. If you're just getting into backpacking and want to do a 'test run' these cabins may be for you.
- Tonsina Cabin (Caines Head State Recreation Area)
- Byers Lake Cabin #2 (Denali State Park)
- Nancy Lake Cabin #2 (Nancy Lake State Recreation Area)
Experienced Outdoorsperson
These cabins are for people who are experienced in outdoor adventures and choose to explore beyond the most populated adventure spots. These cabins may require additional planning, such as water taxis, or a kayak or canoe rental.
- Kokanee Cabin (Chugach State Park)
- China Poot Lake (Kachemak Bay State Park)
- Red Shirt Lake Cabins (Nancy Lake State Recreation Area)
Now is the time to book the adventure for your friends and family. The Alaska State Parks PUCs reservations system open 7 months prior to the booking date. Popular cabins often get snagged at 12:01 am exactly 7 months out. Plan ahead this holiday and give the gift the adventure at an Alaska State Parks PUC.About the Author: Kate Ayers has hiked, biked, skied, canoed, kayaked and water-taxied to more than 40 distinct Alaska Public Use Cabins. She developed her love of the great outdoors at a young age, while growing up in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Now she aims to introduce her children to the same adventures, beauty, and appreciation for the awe-inspiring Alaskan outdoors.
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Caines Head Rainforest Loop - Kate Ayers
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I was excited, and surprised, that I was able to snag the Callisto Public Use Cabin in the Caines Head State Recreation Area, without booking it six months ahead of time. I quickly realized why it was available. The only access to the cabin would be by water because the low tides were still not low enough to take the beach trail to the cabin. With this knowledge, we decided to get dropped off by a water taxi and bring a tandem kayak along for adventuring. As we drove down to Seward, the forecast showed 90% rain for the next five day, and it wasn't wrong. We arrived at the cabin the first night, got the fire started and got warm food in our bellies.
The next morning, the reddish-orange lion's mane jellyfish joined us as we kayaked along to North Beach to start our hiking adventure from the Fort Trail. The trail to the top of Caines Head, and to Fort McGivrary, is beautiful. We welcomed the trees that towered above our heads, as they caught a large amount of the continuous raindrops before they reached our brightly colored soaked hoods. The landscape along the trail proved that rain was not an unusual occurrence in the area. We walked through bright green moss and small streams braided throughout the trail. As the trail approached the Fort, it became peppered with World War II remnants; a bunker tucked into the woods here, and a twisted sheet of metal there. After a 650-foot climb and about two miles of hiking, we reached Fort McGivrary. This once lively strategic command center is now dark, cold, and eerie. Even with flashlights and a lantern I still didn't have the gumption to explore the dark corners. Following the small amount of natural light out to the other side, we were met looking down at a large circular platform. This moss-covered aged concrete was the location of the firing platforms that stood ready nearly 80 years ago protecting the Port of Seward.
From the platforms, the path brings you back to the fork in the trail where the decision to head North or South is made. Heading North will lead you back to North Beach where the trail starts. If South is chosen, the path descends through the trees to South Beach. As we made our way down to South Beach it was fun to imagine 500 military personnel making this landscape their home. How many rocks did they skip into the ocean, or how many naps did they take on the beach? Although I wasn't able to take a nap on this adventure, I tallied at least three skipping rocks. After the 1.5 miles of hiking down to South Beach the majority of visitors turn around and make their way right back up the hill and on to North Beach the way they came; what they may not know is that they're missing a wonderful loop trail that brings them into the woods to experience the rainforest, waterfalls, and plump blueberries.
These days it's hard to find a trail in Alaska that is not widely popular, but I'm here to say – they do exist! If you research "Rainforest Loop Trail" you won't find much. The last time I completed the Rainforest Loop Trail we hardly found the trailhead, we lost our way several times, and the trail was nearly being washed away from the elements. In fact, the only group of people that we encountered on the trail that day told us that they had heard of the loop trail, but they didn't want to get lost in the woods, something I could vaguely relate to from my prior experience. However, this time I was pleasantly surprised to see what appeared to be a brand-new sign, equipped with destination mileage, greeting us at the trailhead. The new sign set the stage to the rugged, yet surprisingly well-maintained trail. This time, the key to not getting lost was simple: follow the pink tape. Follow the tape through the trees, along waterfalls and through the running creek beds. The scenery is so beautiful that we were looking up, down, and all around throughout the entire trail so we were unlikely to miss the pink tape. At mile 1.7 we encountered what is likely an even less popular trail – the Alpine Trail. I've always wanted to explore this one but was given the advice to avoid the trail on a socked in day, as views would not be visible. Given I felt like I could reach out and touch the clouds hovering directly over our heads, we opted out of traversing the Alpine Trail. With the majority of the water features behind us, the last section of the loop down was quick. After another 1.4 miles we came to the Overland Trail intersection. Those staying at the Derby Cove cabin, or walking along the beach from Seward, would have taken this left. However, since we beached our kayak at the other trailhead, we took a right and made a quick 0.6 mile jaunt over to North Beach.
Although the raindrops on our coats had grown their own raindrops when we finished, we still had a terrific time. We had the entire Rainforest Loop Trail to ourselves, besides the unseen goat that was that was leaving its fresh tracks in the mud just ahead of us.About the Author: Kate Ayers has hiked, biked, skied, canoed, kayaked and water-taxied to more than 40 distinct Alaska Public Use Cabins. She developed her love of the great outdoors at a young age, while growing up in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Now she aims to introduce her children to the same adventures, beauty, and appreciation for the awe-inspiring Alaskan outdoors.
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Mt. Eklutna trail to Bear Point at Peter's Creek - Ann Dougherty
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Tonsina Cabin - Kate Ayers
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Mini-backpacker - start them young
Our latest cabin adventure was a milestone for our family – our oldest (5 years old) was able to backpack not only her toys, but also her clothes and water the two miles into the Tonsina Public Use Cabin. The trail goes through maritime rainforest featuring vibrant green trees towering above, bridges that cross over salmon streams and ends at the picturesque Tonsina Point in Resurrection Bay. The landscape variety kept her, and the entire family, entertained throughout the hike. We won’t expect her to backpack in ten miles anytime soon, but it does start to shift our thinking into what is to come in the next stages of our adventures in just a few short years.
Journal entries - a wealth of knowledge
One of the first things I do when I arrive at a public use cabin is search for the cabin journal, or logbook. The State of Alaska provides journals at each public use cabin for cabin attendees to share their cabin experiences and provide area insights. Reading the handwritten words from strangers on each page is a welcome replacement to scrolling through social media feeds. Each person has a unique story and own perspective about their cabin stay. Often the entries provide a wealth of knowledge, from directions to the nearest freshwater stream to the most recent wildlife to have made an appearance in the area (from baby otters to angry bears). On our trip to Tonsina Cabin, we would have never found the most incredible waterfall without the captivating journal entry and directions. You’ll also find humor, artistic masterpieces, and playing card scores scattered throughout most journals.
Cabin celebrations - celebrate in [rustic] styleThinking of where to celebrate your next birthday? Although it may not be the first place to come to mind, consider booking a public use cabin for your next celebration or milestone - it’s bound to bring an extra ‘rustic’ flare to the festivities. For ease, book a drive-up cabin, close to town, to accommodate those that may not want to sleep on the cabin floor or in a nearby campground. If you are inviting people to stay, check the state website to confirm the cabin’s maximum occupancy. Alternatively, if that’s not your style, go big and hike in those 10 plus miles with your closest friends and enjoy the vista views through the cabin window. Each year I book one of the cabins at Eklutna Lake to celebrate fall-time birthdays, including my own. The fall colors at Eklutna get me every time. At our recent visit to the Tonsina cabin we presented our family member with a surprise birthday cupcake around the campfire – nothing tastes better than a surprise cupcake (squished or not) in the middle of nowhere. Don’t stop at birthday celebrations, others have used cabins for family reunions, retirement parties, marriage proposals and weddings. The only trick is to plan and book early!
About the Author: Kate Ayers has hiked, biked, skied, canoed, kayaked and water-taxied to more than 40 distinct Alaska Public Use Cabins. She developed her love of the great outdoors at a young age, while growing up in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Now she aims to introduce her children to the same adventures, beauty, and appreciation for the awe-inspiring Alaskan outdoors.
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Nancy Lake Cabin #3 - Kate Ayers
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Late February, early March, is a great time for a stay in a public use cabin in Southcentral Alaska. Lakes have frozen over, there is more daylight, and temperatures are (usually) warmer than in January. The Nancy Lake Recreation Area is our go-to spot since it's close to Anchorage and there are a lot of cabins to choose from. As always, we booked early and snagged Nancy Lake Cabin #3. This cabin is unique in that there is not a land trail to it because it is surrounded by private property. In the summer, cabin goers must travel by water, most often in a canoe, to the lakeside cabin. In the winter, you have the option to ski, snowmachine, snowshoe, or fat tire bike across the frozen lake. The mode of transportation is not only determined by the season, but also the lake conditions during your stay.
Cabin "hopping"
More often than not, public use cabins tend to be secluded, private, and off the beaten path. Cabins traditionally sleep 4-6 people, and at times up to 12 people. You can definitely travel with large groups, but if you prefer more privacy or a cabin of your own, it's difficult to find two cabins in close proximity (less than 1/8 mile) to one another. There are a few exceptions, such as the Byers Lake Cabin #1 and #2, K'esugi Ken cabins, and Bird Creek cabins (both located in campgrounds). Another exception was our experience with Nancy Lake Cabin #3 and Nancy Lake Cabin #4. Our "COVID-bubble" friends booked Nancy Lake Cabin #4 and it was great to hop back and forth between the cabins in less than a 5-minute ski.
Parent Perspective
Traveling with young kids always brings exciting and unpredictable adventures. It just so happened that this trip took place near the end of our toddler's potty training journey. He had been doing so well and we joked that we should bring his potty along. Soon the joke became reality and the next thing we knew we were placing his potty in the large sled. His "throne" acted as the perfect place for him to sit and enjoy the sled ride. It also came in handy for the middle of the night "nature calls" from our oldest. Overall, it was an unforeseen positive packing addition.
Out and Back
Since we knew our friends had cabin #4, we chose to park at the Trailhead to Nancy Lake Cabins #1-#4. We skied to cabin #4 and then over the lake to cabin #3. My husband had a backpack and a large sled (with a pulk system), filled with gear and our toddler. Our four-year-old skied in carrying her own 'activity' backpack. I had a backpack and a small sled filled with 4 bundles of wood. It didn't take long to realize that the small sled was not going to work. Not only was it tipping over in the new snow, but the thought of it running me over on the downhill (without a pulk system) was enough to ditch the sled with the understanding we'd come back to get it. The trail down to cabin #4 had just enough slope to it that we realized we would rather not ski up it with our heavy gear on the way out. Therefore, when my husband fetched the dropped sled, he also moved the car over to the canoe launch parking area. Although this was about 1/4 of a mile longer than going up and over, the flat approach across the lake made up for it. Heading out a different way than coming in was a nice change from the usual out and back, and presented another opportunity for the kids to be entertained by the new surroundings.
About the Author: Kate AyersKate has hiked, biked, skied, canoed, kayaked and water-taxied to more than 40 distinct Alaska Public Use Cabins. She developed her love of the great outdoors at a young age, while growing up in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Now she aims to introduce her children to the same adventures, beauty, and appreciation for the awe-inspiring Alaskan outdoors.
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