June 8, 2009

I love loons. I don’t know why. They are a little bizarre looking up close, but their dramatic calls and striking appearance captivate me. I spent last weekend with some loons. My first encounter put me up close and personal with one. I was able to make out the wings of the gnats that had landed on its head in the images I captured with my largest lens. It was a great encounter with one of my favorite birds. I even managed to find some lighting in this close encounter that allowed me to capture its dark eye against its black head without overexposing the white on its body. They are difficult to photograph.

On Saturday evening, after sharing a bottle of wine with Kris in our wilderness setting, I was finally able to achieve the loon call that I learned as a kid, I believe from my neighbor. I didn’t know what a loon was at that point in life. I had never heard one. I only learned how to blow through my thumbs into my cupped hands to create a loud call. I have tried a few times in recent years, but the humidity must have been correct Saturday night, or perhaps the wine was the secret.

My first attempts were a little uncontrolled. I noticed a loon several hundred yards offshore as I worked on my call. Soon, the loon was only a short distance away. I don’t know if it was my call or just coincidence, but it was startling to look up and see this loon so close after calling a few times. As we walked to the shore, the loon moved away. I called a few times more loudly. A distant loon on another lake responded. Coincidence? I don’t know. I called again and it responded again. I appeared to be talking to a loon. Perhaps it was too much wine.

Our final encounter with loons over that weekend was most surprising. As we kayaked around the perimeter of our fourth lake of the weekend, we were startled by a whining sound behind us. We turned and a pair of loons was only a few yards away. They seemed undisturbed by our presence except for the occasional whines from the one. As we floated in the clear shallow water, I was rewarded with an unusual treat. I have never seen a loon swimming under water before. This loon dove nearby and practically swam under the nose of my boat. I was thrilled. This time it wasn’t the wine.

We spent last weekend along the Nancy Lakes canoe trail. We had canoed the trail several years back so we sort of knew what to expect. We weren’t attempting the full 14 mile trail this time. We merely wanted to explore a few lakes and experiment with camping from our kayaks. We took the short half of the first lake as we needed to make at least two portages to get to the designated campsites. The first portage went fine. After taking nearly a full perimeter paddle around the second lake, we attempted the second portage. It was brutal.

The kayaks were loaded with our normal backpacking gear, although mine had a few extras like fishing gear. While the trail down to the first lake allowed me to use my improvised cart, portage trails were two narrow and rough for my wheels to be of any use. The useless steel device was simply added weight. The weight of the boats was carried in one hand on a handle. It only took a few hundred feet before our hands ached so bad we had to take a break and switch sides. The tenth mile proclaimed on the sign was much longer than the tenth mile claimed on the first portage. We were exhausted by the time we got both boats to the third lake.

We looked at the nice campsites along the shore, but decided to push on to the other side of the lake. We explored the longer half of the perimeter along the way, including one cove tucked back neatly off the beaten path. We arrived at the far end and found a small stream flowing in. I explored a short ways upstream, but the shallow water had me thinking it would be better after lightening the kayak by setting up camp. We arrived at the third portage trail and had a memory. All the signs said a tenth of a mile to the next lake, even though they were all vastly different distances. We parked the boats and looked at the camping options at this end of the lake. We decided we liked the other end better so we completed our circumnavigation of the lake.

After setting up camp, we took our now lighter kayaks back across the lake to explore the stream that led toward another lake on the map. Four beaver dams later, we arrived at a rarely visited lake tucked back off the main canoe trail. I fished the outlet of the lake briefly before circumnavigating the lake. Upon returning to the outlet, I fished for a few more minutes. I was excited when I caught a nice Northern Pike, a toothy catch to deal with from a kayak. I dunked the tired fish a couple times, allowing the line to go slack. I was relieved when a quick head shake threw my spoon back into the water, saving me the risk of getting bit, hooked, or otherwise bleeding in the encounter.

The small tent was a welcome change from the big tent. It was much cozier. The site we picked was without major rocks or roots and proved to be a comfortable place to sleep. It began raining shortly after we went to bed and continued well into the morning. It was an Alaskan rain, mostly just a light drizzle, but our boats needed pumped out in the morning. Breakfast required a little effort to leave the warmth of our tent to cook in the rain. The day continued its downward trend with the painful return portage, now on a muddy trail. That was really the bottom of the day. The weather improved as we enjoyed completing our exploration of the lakes.

Besides our loon encounters, we also ran into a couple of irritated beavers who slapped their tales madly as we approached. We saw two nervous moose along the shores of the lakes. We also saw a few scoters, the drill team divey ducks that we encountered in Haines last year. This time we only saw a few on a freshwater lake, but they were still quite striking in appearance.

This weekend took us in a different direction. We simply backpacked up into the mountains from Anchorage. Our heads were in the clouds as we started the hike. The cool damp fog had me wondering if I had brought enough warm clothes. As we hiked further, the skies cleared. It turned out to be a beautiful weekend.

We got a late start on Saturday, but we were only hiking about 7 miles in to Williwaw Lakes. We were pleased when a group of day hikers on their way out told us there was no one back there. We arrived at the lakes tucked between massive rocky mountains in the late afternoon and began looking for a suitable campsite. The lowlands were a little wet and seemed too close to the water. We continued up valley and eventually ran out of valley. We turned back around and found a nice shelf sitting high above the lakes. A flat spot covered with crowberries tucked between some sharp rocks proved just big enough for our small tent.

The camp site couldn’t have been more perfect. While our weekends can be a little intense, this was a relaxing Saturday evening and Sunday morning. We enjoyed our expansive view of the valley. We caught up on some sleep on the soft crowberry surface. We watched a bull moose randomly graze while we ate breakfast. Then we hiked the seven miles back out with the heavy packs on our backs. It was really a nice combination of intense activity and peaceful relaxation.

I added to our backcountry security on this trip. I found a cheap battery powered personal alarm device that is shockingly loud for such a small package. The alarm goes off when a pin is removed. The friction on the pin was perfect for setting up a perimeter trip line of 25lb monofilament. I tested the trip system in several places and the system worked perfectly. It was nearly impossible for a large animal to approach our tent without us waking up and knowing about it. I suspect the alarm would have scared away most animals. The added benefit is that the system weighs practically nothing.

As we hiked the last few miles on a hot sunny day, we noticed lots of people. The parking lot had been pretty empty when we arrived in a cloud bank, but now the parking lot was full and the road was parked up for an unbelievable distance. I am sure none of those people were enjoying the solitude that we had experienced. I am at a loss to understand why so many people would go up there on the same day. I don’t understand why they would see the line of cars parked along the road and still think it was a good idea. Apparently other people’s goals in using the Chugach State Park are a bit different than mine.