Eagle River to Eklutna Backpack - September 2018

Updated below to include a great day on Thunderbird Ridge in 2026.

We spent a marathon Monday in the kitchen processing three caribou and chatting about ideas for the following weekend. Tony suggested Ram Valley to Eklutna; what a perfect backyard idea connecting so many favorite places! Saturday morning found us hiking up the familiar trail to Falling Water valley.


In the unusually hot September sun we treadmilled up the scree pass between Peking and Peak 5320. Behind Alyse is one of Raina's long coolies that link up well with so many other lines in the area.


At the pass, it was ginger chicken wraps for lunch with a view of Foraker for dessert. From there we descended briefly to head for the low ridge that we'd take to Peters Creek. In the background are Thunderbird and Bees Heaven peaks with the evening's campsite just hidden below.


Gaining the descent ridge to Peters Creek, Peking and its X Couloir towered above.


Directly ahead was the north face of Rumble with its giant couloir. What a king line!


As Alyse turned towards the Wall Street Glacier, she was dwarfed by the huge west face of Benign. Its Malignant Gully is near the top of the hit list.


Following the ridge to the creek was painless and brush free. Along the way we passed countless bear excavation projects, blood red tundra, and a bag of peanuts that probably came from the Debarr Costco.


At the creek we vacuumed water to make up for the single liter that I had foolishly suggested starting the day with. The low fall flows made the crossing fast and easy. From the other side, our views swiveled to the south fork of Peters Creek guarded by Icicle, East Kiliak, and West Kiliak:


Icicle Peak:


Crossing the valley floor hardly counted as bushwhacking and we were soon gaining elevation on old lateral moraines along the valley wall. Rumble kept looking bigger and badder.


Below, a group of moose hunters quietly made their way home through the bright fall colors. The romantic scene almost made me want a horse. Almost.


Above the brushline, we turned into the basin draining the west sides of Thunderbird and Bees Heaven.


Constrained by the preference for a camp with a water supply, we followed the creek upwards towards its source in the rock glaciers and moraines above. As the creek dwindled towards a trickle, we found a campsite in the fiery tundra.


From our dinner table, Peking was framed in the evening light by the valley walls.


Breakfast was interrupted the next morning by Alyse pointing to a large brown bear running full speed towards us. It seemed to just be chasing ground squirrels, but even from 1500 yards its raw power was obvious.


30 seconds later the freight train was 500 yards away and still barreling full steam towards us. I started to wonder if he was having us for breakfast instead of the ground squirrels.


By 250 yards the shimmering mass of muscle was rapidly becoming unacceptably close. We yelled and the startled bear turned tail and ran, thank goodness it didn't know we're just frail yuppies.


Meanwhile, high on the hillside above the bear a flock of sheep were obliviously and blissfully grazing.


We broke camp and climbed the piles of blobby moraine towards a ridge to Bees Heaven. The ridge had a nice sheep trail that we could follow to the summit. The Korohusk pinners are along the skyline somewhere back there.


Looking south, I drooled at the hanging glacier hidden between Mount Pleasant's twin peaks and reminisced about a great ski tour there with Ethan and Alex. This aesthetic line is not particularly steep and is one that a lot of people would really enjoy.


To the east there was more drooling be done over the Kiliaks. I keep thinking about Shasta's suggestion of skiing off the top of West Kiliak.


From our ridge we looked down on a hunter's tent dwarfed by the relief of Peters Creek.


On the other side of the ridge a group of sheep cautiously peered around the corner at us. Were we the hunters from the tent?


Above, a curious young ram peered down at the weird two legged sheep slowing huffing up the ridge in their synthetic wool layers.


He continued to pose on the ridge as we climbed past.


From the top I couldn't stop looking at Bellicose and the Shroud.


Thinking about the Shroud always leads down the wormhole of monster Peters Creek ski slog dreams.


To the north, Bashful seemed almost close enough to touch. Behind it Marcus Baker was actually looking white, not its usually shiny-icy-blue look. Maybe snow actually sticks up there in late summer?


So many memories were visible from Bees Heaven; on the skyline past the Matanuska River valley was the Sheep Glacier. Such cool terrain, shame the snowpack is so bad up there.


Immediately north was the ridge that we'd follow to Thunderbird Peak. The descent north off of Bees Heaven looked more suitable for sheep than humans with backpacks and without ropes. So, we descended to the northeast, then wrapped back to our ridge.


The sheep had the same idea:


Back on the ridge to Thunderbird, we looked at the Bees Heaven rock glacier and its piles of moraines.


Connecting to Thunderbird proved to be more tedious than the expected ridge cruise. By the time we were bushwhacking out to Eklutna Lake in the dark I was wishing we'd budgeted more for this segment.


At the intersection with Thunderbird Ridge we left our packs and ran the out and back to the peak.


There's not much exposed ice left on the Thunderbird Glacier, but the flow lobes tell of fatter days and the ice still hidden under the blanket of stone.


With one last long sip of the Peters Creek skyline it was time to begin the descent towards Eklutna.


Several hundred feet of scree deposited us on the perfect sheep highways of Thunderbird Ridge.


The ridge was cruiser and incredibly beautiful, complete with so many adventure ideas, and adventure memories.


With a never ending view of Twin Peaks we followed the ridge towards the outlet of the lake. There are so many cool lines on the twins, how have we still not skied those?


Once above the spillway we began the final descent towards the car. Linking meadows we looked for the elusive and infamous trail. Around nightfall we ran out of meadows and ran into the bushwhacking.


Needless to say, we never found that trail. But, thrashing through the dark sure was memorable.

July 2026 Update:

Almost a decade after my last visit, I finally returned to the beautiful rolling views from Thunderbird Ridge with Nyssa. This time, knowing the track of the trail from Eklutna Lake, we began at the lake with the plan of enjoying the beautiful summer day with a loop hike.

Crossing the spillway and taking a left into the forest, we were soon on the upward trail. Although this "trail" is orders of magnitude better than the alternative muddy bushwhack, it is still a hodgepodge of hazards including overgrowth, mud, dead ends, tripping, and CTE. I discovered this last risk when, tired of stubbed toes and watching my feet, I walked headfirst straight into a downed tree, promptly finding myself on my butt, feet in the air, in the mud.

It was hot, muggy, and sweaty on the steep trail, and we were relieved to reach the relative cool of the alpine. Of course, its funny that we'd ever complain (or feel overwhelmed) by the temps here when its barely 50 degrees. Above the bushes, we followed the remains of the little trail up slippery tundra to the ridgeline. We stopped for a snack, then turned east.In front of us, Bold Peak rose six thousand peak straight out of Eklutna Lake. Thinking back on some of the close calls for skiers on its iconic north face over the years, I've realized just how lucky Jake and I got to catch it in seemingly stable and soft conditions. 


In front of us, Bold Peak rose six thousand peak straight out of Eklutna Lake. Thinking back on some of the close calls for skiers on its iconic north face over the years, I've realized just how lucky Jake and I got to catch it in seemingly stable and soft conditions.     

As we worked our way east over the undulating crests and saddles, Bashful came into view. I doubt that I will ever ski the wild north face of this monster, but its fun to dream about. As for the cruddy summer route, I still am of the opinion that the top several hundred feet of the peak should be bulldozed off so people are less tempted to waste their time on this giant pile of sketchy choss.


Walking above the inlet of Eklutna Lake, Bold, Bashful, and Baleful stretched out in a line above the East Fork Eklutna Valley. Tucked somewhere in there between Bashful and Baleful is Benevolent Point. Benevolent and Baneful with Nyssa is one of my all time favorite ski days, and is also when I really started to notice my very poor ability to estimate travel times through bushes in the dark. Or, for that matter, my ability to estimates any form of future time.

Working towards our high point of Thunderbird Peak, I realized just how much vertical gain was stacking up in all the individual little bumps of the ridge.


Each rise, fall, or turn along our path brought a new perspective or view.


We squinted far up the East Fork at Booty and Bounty. Bounty remains near the top of my ski list. I think there are some exciting other lines that it can be linked up with. Lurking over the skyline behind the headwaters of the East Fork is the heli and plane skiing zone of the Troublesome Glacier which is just a fraction of the infinite mecca of the Knik.


Five hundred feet before the summit of Thunderbird the route transitioned from easy walking to loose scrambling. Treadmilling up the last loose rocks to the summit, we looked back at a solo adventurer literally running after us through the challenging terrain.  


By the time we'd reached the west summit, the mysterious hardo was already on the east summit and jogging towards Bees Heaven. The list of people this speed demon could be is quite short. 


This views from this loop are predominantly of the Eklutna drainage, but from the top of Thunderbird we had a great overlook into upper Peters Creek. I know I droned on and on about how awesome Peters Creek and its peaks are in the original post, but I can't resist doing it again. There were Peking's X and Y Couloirs with Raina poking up in the background. Either of these peaks makes a great day of coolie skiing.


Even more impressive are Rumble and Yukla. Rumble's steep, exposed, and hanging north face flowing into its dogleg couloir will probably always be one of the single best days of big mountain skiing in my life. Then there is Yukla, which is an Icicle Creek classic that I still need to ski.


From the summit of Thunderbird, our perspective changed as we turned back towards the car and onto the second half of our loop. Our eyes, memories, and imaginations pointed northwest at the Talkeetnas and farther to the Central Alaska Range.


In the foreground is Bald Mountain Ridge which Nyssa, Tony, Erin, Tom and I jogged on a smokey and hot day a few years ago. For me, one of the big appeals of the Bald Mountain Ridge had been a new set angles to take in our Southcentral AK paradise. I hope to do it again when there is less smoke and heatstroke. Foraker, Hunter, and Denali dwarfed the rest of the Alaska Range. The Pika is tucked in there somewhere. I hope to go there again when it snows less than nine feet.


Closer to us, Pioneer and the Twins dominated the skyline above Eklutna Lake. We all know how awesome I think the north face of Pioneer is; there isn't really another line around with that kind of bang for the buck. The West Twin Pencil kind of reminds me of the north face of Bold: its another one that many people have their eyes on. There have also been a lot of close calls and accidents up there over the years.


Gradually descending a colorful ridge that bifurcated Thunderbird Creek, I really enjoyed this part of our loop.


Although the ridge itself was great, I did not particularly enjoy the descent to the valley floor. This was partly a function of my generally creaky body tumbling down tussocky terrain and would have been a great place to have trekking poles.

Above the creek, we watched an oblivious blond grizzly cruise past on the hunt for berries or ground squirrels then waded across to our last climb of the day. The number of small winged insects that accompanied us on this ascent was really something to behold and Nyssa and I spent much of our extra energy extracting these little friends from our eyes, ears, noses, and lungs. I had been kind of dreading this ascent, but it actually wasn't that bad and we were soon standing on the top and refueling before the long descent to the spillway.

Comparing to the last time I came down from here at sunset, the trail was a huge improvement - much less time was spent face first in mud, devils club, or alder thicket. Before long we were jogging across the spillway and back to the parking lot as the day's last beams of sunlight saturated the birch leaves above us with color.


Back at home, I had unfinished business to attend to: