Trail Talk – October 2022

Reading the newly-posted Chugach National Forest trail sign for Carter Lake Trail near Moose Pass, AK, I thought that a nice morning hike was in the cards. According to the posting, the trail was steep, but well-maintained, ending near Carter Lake in the high pass between Upper Trail Lake and Crescent Creek on the Cooper Landing side of the Kenai Peninsula. With fishing rod in hand, and the promise of a lake full of grayling and rainbow trout, I started the climb.

Recent heavy rains (Southcentral Alaska’s third wettest August on record) had made the trail muddy in spots, and frequent water bar failures promised streams of water in the trail tread. But with a heavy rock base, and on grades approaching 30%, the footing was secure as long as muddy areas were avoided. Nearing the lake, I began to suspect that the trailhead information was a bit over-generous regarding trail conditions.

Heavy Sitka alder growth began to encroach on the trail corridor, and more frequent water bar failures resulted in ankle-deep mud. As the trail leveled out, entering the glacial valley of Carter Lake, and its distant neighbor, Crescent Lake, the “trail” became a deep rut hidden in overhanging vegetation. Contouring to a higher viewpoint on the glacial moraine at the near end of the valley, I was pleased to hear the distant call of two wolves, communicating across the narrow valley. It was good to be in that place.

Unable to find the promised access to the lakeshore, I marched across sodden tundra to make a few casts. With but a single Arctic char to hand for my efforts, I realized that as wet as I was, the real soaking was about to begin. A heavy rainstorm moved in, convincing me that it was time to retreat down the trail. Wading through shoulder high blueberry brush, I fed myself large quantities of berries as I found my way back to the trail where it exited the glacial valley.

Trotting now, my clothes soaked through quite thoroughly, I sloshed down the steep grades, heading to the relative comfort of the camper/van. Those modest rivulets and shallow creek crossings of the ascent were now quite a bit more substantial, and the difference between the moisture laden air I was breathing, and the wet conditions of the trail became indistinguishable. Indeed, if I had swum back to the vehicle, I wouldn’t have been more drenched.

This was August on the Kenai Peninsula, where rain is expected. And after leaving one more 115-degree day in the Rogue Valley just 10 days before, I wasn’t complaining. Following trails into wild places has been my passion for a lifetime, and this was but another outing. Catching Arctic char? Hearing wolves? Shoveling wild blueberries into my mouth? Why wouldn’t I be here?

Maybe the trail isn’t what we’re promised, or what we expect. But it still takes us to new places and unforgettable adventures. Please go for a hike. The trails beckon.