Kenai Skyline Traverse - 8.20.2024

Lately we've been in the habit of checking out (and checking off) ridge jaunts around our home mountains in the Western Chugach. But these lovely ridges exist farther from home, and last week, hungry to enjoy every last minute of summer, we drove south for a Kenai ridgeline.

From the Fuller Lakes Trailhead, Nyssa, Madeline, Peter, and I left the gravel of the parking lot and walked into the green tube of the well maintained trail through the jungle to the lower lake.


At the first lake we emerged from the forest into a classic view of the rolling hills of the dry side of the Kenai Peninsula. It reminded me of the terrain around Summit Lake.


We had been impressed with the trail conditions on the lower trail and figured that might bode well for the rest of the approach to the ridge. Unfortunately, we were wrong, and the trail deteriorated into a morass of bushes, roots, and deadfall - all sorts of tripping hazards and things to hide those hazards from view.

Skilak Backpack - July 2024

For years I've dreamed of exploring the rolling mountains that rise from the south shores of Skilak Lake's vibrant blue waters. With our dear friend Ethan, we finally had a chance over a long weekend in July 2024.

The adventure starts like so many others have: packing late into the night to get out of town. We crawl out of bed in the morning, and refreshed by coffee and a bathroom break in Girdwood, join the line of cars with sights set for the Kenai. The Skilak Lake Road is a mess of dusty washboards and some pieces of the boat are probably rattled loose. Launching is a shit show, but we're eventually underway across the stunning lake on a quintessentially gorgeous Alaskan summer day.

Its breathtaking and magical on the sunny lakeshore and hard to leave. There's the usual indecision if the boat is secured or if need to tie a few more backup knots on the line. We pull up our hoods for protection as we begin the buggy hike thru the woods. It's hot and I laugh about the short sleeve that I optimistically packed forgetting about the bloodsucking flying demons.

A couple hours of climbing the quality trail through the forest brings us to the alpine. The winds are ripping, and we tuck into a green dell for shelter while we eat lunch. 

From the top of the trail, we consider climbing Peaks 4320 or 4738 but even down here the wind is harsh. So, instead we sidehill towards the pass between the peaks. In front of us we squint at a blonde rock that looks like a sitting bear. Then, the rock moves and begins circling around us. It's a sub-adult grizzly that doesn't seem too concerned or interested, we look back behind us as it flops down in a bush and rolls around lazily.

Kenai Black Bear Hunt - September 2022

Briefly back in Anchorage between fieldwork, weddings, and COVID, I was treated with what has lately been a rare dry day to go look for a blueberry bear on the Kenai. Nyssa was down for the count with COVID, and I was dragging too, so motivation was low and I honestly kind of hoped I didn't finder any keepers.

Driving south thru Turnagain Pass, I stopped at each pullout to look into as many nooks and crannies as I could on Seattle Ridge. The countless drainages, ridges, bushes, and terrain features here make it hard to check all the terrain. On the south end of the pass I could see the large three brown slugs of a brown bear sow and her cubs grazing on the shoulder of TT43. I'd never seen grizzlies there this time of year, and didn't feel like it was a particularly good sign for a black bear.


I kept driving south towards Summit Lake with a pit stop at Granite Creek to shoot my 270 and confirm I hadn't bumped the scope during my recent bushwhacking and tumbling on Kodiak. By the time I'd made it to the south end of Summit Lake I hadn't glassed any black bears. Figuring that it wasn't my day, I started to make my way north. Looking up from the Johnson Pass trailhead I could see the distinct hump of the shoulder of a big brown bear eating in the alpine. At first I assumed it was the same sow I'd seen a couple hours before, but then watched the sow and her cubs walk out of a gully a quarter mile away.

Another big bruin probably chasing the black bears off the berries - I was really feeling like this wasn't my day. But, looking through my binoculars from the Cornbiscuit lot, I saw the distinctly sharp edges of a black shape waddle out from the yellow leaves of an alder clump high above the road. To my surprise this blackie happily chowing down within a half mile of the four brownies.