Eagle River Valley – South Fork; 08 August 2010

Let’s take a walk. Forget your work. Forget your responsibilities. Forget all the stuff you’re supposed to get done today. Let’s just drop everything and head outdoors. Let’s just head out and go for a nice, long walk in the open, crisp air of south-central Alaska. Let’s hike down the South Fork of Eagle River Valley and bask in the massive silence of Big Alaskiana.

Just east of Anchorage, Eagle River Valley is an impressive expanse of Alaska wilderness. Of course, nearly every square inch of Alaska is impressive, but the Eagle River region truly is something special. As for Eagle River Valley, there are actually two forks. The North Fork is the larger of the two. A number of trails head south and then west from Eagle River  Valley North Fork, winding through Chugach State Park and ultimately leading all the way down to Turnagain Arm. The South Fork is shorter rougher, but shouldn’t be ignored. It’s an immaculate valley flanked by the pristine and well-weathered Chugach Mountains. A number of ponds and midlands adorn the valley floor.

In Alaska, where there’s a valley there’s often also a stream. Alaskan Valleys are, after all, typically the result of a long history of epic water flow and action. Seasonal precipitation and glacial melt both contribute to many of these valley streams, and most of these valleys are still actively developing. Hiking a valley basin in Alaska can be a sticky, messy affair (the mud!), but it’s also one of the safer ways to traverse Alaska’s many landscapes. If you get lost, just find and follow the stream back the way you came.

Hiking this terrain, you need to be prepared to get muddy. You simply cannot think of the Alaskan summer as “the dry season.” It really isn’t — at least not in south-central Alaska. Precipitation can be surprisingly heavy and the annual snow melt is more than enough to keep the ground nice and soft. This is especially true in the valley basins. In some areas, the terrain is both jagged and muddy. You’ll often find old boards along the well-worn path — old boards placed over particularly icky passes.

This breed of Alaskan hike is rather easy in contrast to the more-mountainous trails. Still, it can be somewhat tiring, especially when the mud is thick and the rocks beneath your feet are slick. After a few hours, your urbanized feet may start crying out for concrete. If you start to feel a bit tired, all you need to do is pause for a few moments. Take a good, long look around. Drink in those Chugach greens and feel the distant sun shining down from above. Pretty soon you’ll remember that all this water is coming from somewhere — and that somewhere is still somewhere up ahead, farther up the valley basin.

Continuing onward, you start to come across glacial moraine — loose, jagged rocks left behind from an ancient, retreating glacier. At the same time, the clouds start to move in and the blue skies you were enjoying the hour prior start to disappear beneath a chilly Alaskan front. Even in August, during the waning days of the preciously-short summer season, the temperature can easily drop ten degrees, if not more, in a very short period of time. You always want to be prepared for a little chill and a little rain when you’re in south-central Alaska. Always.

Following the creek upstream –because the land has become a bit too rough and jagged– you spot a random Dolly varden trout swimming under your feet.

You then come across a beautifully neonic pool of water. The bright blue-green water damn near seems to glow beneath the increasingly ominous Alaskan sky. The water, you realize, is bright blue-green because of glacial silt. The water you are looking at is the product of glacial melt. Somewhere up ahead, somewhere beneath those clouds, somewhere deep in the Chugach, a glacier is slowly melting year after year, feeding this particular pool of neonic water.

As you continue to advance, the rocky terrain beneath your feet is becoming rougher and rougher. Once upon an ago, the land you are walking over was covered by a glacier. As the glacier advanced and then later retreated, carving out the valley basin, it ground the rock beneath its mass, leaving a jagged tangle of sharp terrain behind. Now, with the glacier having retreated beyond your line of site, the jagged landscape serves as home to a number of organisms such as the Arctic ground squirrel.

In a nearby glacial pond, you spot another local resident, the North American beaver.

And then, as you climb over a ridge of thick glacial moraine, you come across a remarkable site: two lakes divided from one another by a narrow ridge of land. A small, primitive emergency shelter stands sentry between the two lakes.

The lake to your right is Symphony Lake, fed primarily by annual snow melt from the Chugach Mountains beyond. Because it is not directly or substantially fed by glacial melt, the water is quite dark — a thick, deep aquamarine.

Eagle Lake to your left, on the other hand, glows beneath the now-partly-cloudy skies and Hurdygurdy Mountain — a clear sign of glacial melt.

At this point, after exploring the moraine between Eagle and Symphony Lakes, you turn to head back home. This is, after all, simply a day hike. If you were to camp overnight, there’d be plenty more to explore in this area. Trails continue onward and in multiple directions from this spot. But for today, for this hike, for this experience, it’s time to head back down the valley basin, back home.

Along the way, still reeling in what you’ve just sojourned, it’s only fitting that you spot a moose in the distance — a moose quietly watching you pass by. By evening, you’ll be back home in Anchorage, and this moose will be tucking itself in for the night deep in the heart of Eagle River Valley South Fork.

Next on Dust Tracks: Eagle River Valley — North Fork!

~ janson