bushwhack this

In case any of you are worried that I am getting too happy out here and my ego is growing beyond control, oh don't you worry, the pack I had to carry out on trail full of necessities (after 4 shifts you know the bare minimum of what to bring) for 8 days was a humbling experience enough. Of course, any time you attempt to carry a heavy pack similar to the size of a small child on your back into the backcountry in attempts to immerse yourself in nature while still maintaining a certain amount of cultural and human comfort you are bound to be a humbled a bit by altitude, fauna, rocks and distance.

This last week on the trail was a unique opportunity- I got to meet The Godfather of trail making. Who is this you ask? Let me tell you. He is the type of guy who filters coffee through his teeth, considers different shades of jeans "a varied wardrobe", would definitely own an official "I have a great beard" card if they existed, and can pull of wearing an outer frame backpack. The first two days on the trail, our crew got the opportunity to walk the trail with The Godfather and his apprentice. The Godfather has worked all over the country for the park service and is one of the foremost experts on building trail bridges. Currently, he is retired but they convinced him to come out for a special assignment to asses the trail and bridges on the Chilkoot. In the 70's he came out during the construction of the trail to design and recommend all the bridges for the park. All of the bridges remaining from that time period, including my 2 favorite suspension bridges (think Indiana Jones) were designed by him. Yet, his specialty is not limited to bridges, oh no. as we hiked the trail, he pointed out thing after of thing of areas that could be improved, parts done well, and the theory behind building trails. The 8 hours we spent with him were probably the most informational all summer. The only problem is now, my usually pleasant and pleased hike on the trail, is now consumed with radar signals of flaws. Its like dad watching a Hollywood movie on bombs, it's almost impossible to enjoy because you know all the things they are doing wrong. Yet, its fun because now we have plenty of things to do the rest of the season, including my new favorite trail keeping chore- bridge cleaning. For some reason there is something therapeutic about scraping a bridge clean. It's like dusting the wilderness. The rest of the days we spent taking care of smaller projects and hiking back and forth on the trail to and from our cabin. We hiked about 65 miles in 8 days, averaging about 8 miles a day on not so flat ground. I now call the Chilkoot Trail the Chilkoot Commute. I really can tell my kids that I had to walk to work uphill both days.

The days off had their own charm as well. A couple of days I did a few really great hikes. One to a great coastal look out where you can't see any signs of civilization and the sun was out just long enough for me to pretend it was summer as I laid on the rocks. The next one, my friend Marc and I attempted to reach the notch which is the false summit of the Chilkoot Trail summit that I work on. Yet, one of the best days had to be the July 24^th. Like the Fourth of July, the church's Pioneer Day has become a long forgotten memory. But trust me Mormons know how to have a good celebratory time even in Alaska. For the big day, the branch put on a delicious bbq and old school series of games. All the classics were present: running with an egg on the spoon, three-legged race, egg toss, and a wagon race. For the wagon race, a team of four had to get around the soccer field with a wheelbarrow, collecting various heaving antiques in the fastest time possible. Despite my burning desire to beat the reigning champions, my team "Quick and Dirty" did not win. Forgetting all values my pioneer ancestors worked for, after the party a few of us went to check out a charity drag show at the Red Onion Saloon. A few males dressed in bad dresses was all the incentive I needed to go join my roommates at acoustic night down the street.

My last shift spent less time on the trail but did include some pretty cool training. For our next shift we will be working on a fall zone a.k.a. if you step too heavily on a section of the trail you will fall 70ft down the cliff edge to your death. So, as you can imagine a bit of safety training and equipment is necessary. We managed to spend $1500 on gear in a couple of hours at the climbing shop. I actually got paid to look at, try on and play with climbing gear that I can only dream of affording right now. The rest of the afternoon we spent making anchors, learning different knots and other safety tricks. Yet, after a couple of city days and tadpole hunting, it was incredibly refreshing to be back out on the trail again.

However, one of the more atypical days of the shift was spent with the biological technician doing a toad survey. It was typical in the fact that we had to hike up hill in muddy weather, wearing gators, chomping devil's club and enjoying the elements surrounded by glaciers. The "aaaaaa" part of it was the fact that we were bushwhacking through trees, swamps and mosquitoes in search of a dime-sized amphibian the same color of the water it habitats in. After we hiked we arrived at a meadow about 2 miles long and 1 mile wide. Each of us spread out along the width and begin the weary search forward. Minus the few small keeper holes I fell into, all seemed to be going well, till my roommate and I found ourselves immersed in alders (small thick bush-like trees). After about an hour of me blindly leading us forward, contorting our limbs to get through, we managed to emerge our scraped selves out into a clearing only to become mugged by mosquitoes. Eventually, by using the very technical communication process of "yelling and waiting for response", we managed to end up with the rest of the group who equally dealt with the labyrinth. Surprisingly, spirits were high and humorous though no one actually found a tadpole other than the one at the very beginning of the hike. Needless to say with 7 of us out there for 5 hours, two on overtime pay, the one sighted tadpole is the most expensive amphibian I have ever seen.