Lake George Glacier Skiing - March 2026

A couple days of skiing long runs of thousands of feet of powder above the Lake George Glacier started as what looked to be a day of getting shut down in the Western Chugach:

Our mountains (and souls) had been through several rough weeks of cruddy weather and wind when late March finally brought a period of sun. With a rare forecast for sun and calm in the Prince William Sound, we pointed for the long aesthetic runs dropping from the Meares Glacier plateau to the toe of the Yale that we skied years ago.

Photo: John Hermus

The zone was as dramatically beautiful as always, but the snow was dust on crust. John:


After a lap we jumped back into the expensive old piles of metal and avgas and pointed towards the Eagle Glacier. From the air above the Eagle it was clear the snow was likely wind affected here too, so we turned east again to check out a cool skintrack zigzagging up from the Lake George Glacier. 

It was afternoon by the time we were parked next to Chris and Jon and were climbing their beautiful skinner - thanks a lot guys. The sense of scale was warped around this huge coastal glacier, and what looked like a quick lap turned out to be 3,000 feet of vert - it reminded me a lot of the east face of Twin Peaks in terms of pitch, length, and consistency minus the messed up terrain trap at the bottom. Trish and Shira:

Meares Peninsula Skiing

Updated in 2026 to include more sunny March days on this incredible peninsula of ice ringed by emerald waters.
On a Wednesday night in late March of 2022 I was lounging at home reading the weather, playing with the cats, and wishing I were skiing the next day when I got a text from Dana wondering if I could ski. My initial response was something like: "no thanks, I should be a good little corporate drone and go to work". Then I thought: Wait. WAIT. WWWWWAIT. Why would I put bloodthirsty corporate interests busy lining their own pockets ahead of a beautiful day in our unparalleled mountains with old friends?

The next morning, I called in sick with a bad case of powder fever, and headed for the icy tarmac of Merrill Field curious what we'd find in a rarely visited and unique zone. I found Dana preflighting his PA-12 in the numbing cold air of first light, then squirmed into the backseat of the taildragger. Feeling basically like Top Gun, I felt Dana push the throttle forward and the plane easily lift away from Anchorage.

Looking to be made of little model houses, our city disappeared behind as we climbed east towards endless wilderness. Following Ship Creek into the morning sun, we looked for the wandering tracks of the big brown bears hungry after their long winter night and ready to fill their bellies with a moose breakfast. To our right, the curved couloirs of Temptation grew from the hoar frost of the valley bottom to snake up the north face. As we approached Crow Pass and the maritime zone, the mountains continued to grow around us. To the left was the jagged south face of Organ. Some lucky and determined skiers have skied east from its summit. I'd like to join those ranks. 


There's so much country back here; it was like a giant slideshow as one mountain would slip away to reveal another behind it. As the slide of memories that is Bird Peak's steep and angular north face passed us, it revealed the shaded aquamarine jewel of Magpie.


Next up was the rimed summit of Raggedtop. There is so much to explore in our promised land that obvious options can fall out of mind for years - that's been the case for this Girdwood classic for me. Just visible on the right is the pass that we've used to avoid the avalanche and alder hazards of lower California Creek and access Fishs Breath famous southeast face and less known but equally dramatic north couloir. It would be cool to link up these two iconic peaks in one ski tour.

Prince William Sound Picture Project

I spent the summer of 2013 working on a fishery research vessel in Alaska's Prince William Sound. This was a truly formulative experience that changed me forever and bound the PWS to my soul. Over the years there have been so many beautiful moments that stood out from a larger story or adventure. After a decade hiatus, I've continued updating this post with images from these beautiful moments.

Hunting 2025

All year every year I look forward to deer hunting in the Sound. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because it has some of those same factors I love about backcountry skiing: anticipation, adaption in the moment, understanding the landscape (and the animals), shared experiences, and of course, some excitement. Its also special to me because some of my first memories in AK that I hold so dear were formed here.

So, it's particularly special to have a chance to go out for the opener. Abe hopped in and we flew over the glittering water set with emerald island gemstones to meet Adam on the outside.


We surfed the little rollers coming off the Gulf then hiked up top to hunt.


Early in the season the deer aren't used to hunters and are out doing their thing. Its magical to see them in a world seemingly untouched by people.

McCarthy to Skolai Backpack - August 2025

Back in August, Nyssa and I did a memorable four-day backpacking trip through the raw terrain of the Wrangell Mountains. Our route started in McCarthy and ended with a pickup at Skolai Pass, where Wrangell Mountain Air whisked us out in their impressive Cessna 185. Between those bookends was hard mountain travel through miles of freshly deglaciated terrain where the ground was shifting talus, loose moraines, and crumbling ice.


Our long weekend started slowly on Thursday with yummy breakfast burritos at the Potato before Kelly zipped us up to Kennicott with his ATV. In Kennicott we chatted with Elizabeth and Austin before heading up the sunny trail in the interior heat. I was quickly sweating and glad for my stylish zip-off pants.

Past the fork between the Kennicott and Root glaciers, we skidded, slipped, and slid off the trail and down the moraine, strapped on our microspikes, and stepped onto the Root. Impossibly large, Staircase Icefall loomed out of the clouds above us.

Crater Peak Ski - 7.4.2025

Under the threat of supposedly imminent eruption, Mount Spurr has been on the minds of most Anchoraginos this year. While an eruption never happened, it did point the eye of Sauron at what to do with the stratovolcano dominating the south end of the Tordillos. 

Eventually, I realized that Crater Peak in summer corn could be a perfect way of avoiding the avalanche hazard created by 5,000 vertical feet of angle of repose slopes covered in terrain traps and sitting on the edge of a giant wind tunnel. The next step was waiting for the Crater Strip to melt out, the wind to let off, and the sun to come out. Somehow, all those things lined up on July 4th instead of 10 years from now as they so often do.

Landing on the strip involved clearing a hill on short final with a gusting a crosswind, little trees growing up into the strip, then a quick transition to an uphill landing. It was a perfect summer morning when we left the strip behind and hiked through soft, smooth tundra towards Crater Peak. 


Walking through beautiful lupine meadows on the low flanks of the peak, the first thing I noticed and what kept coming back to me throughout the day was the scale of this place. I couldn't get over just how big all the peaks, ridges, glaciers, and gorges were. Here we were looking straight up 5,000 feet at a peak that was not only several thousand feet shorter than its neighbors, but also surrounded on three sides by huge glaciers draining off these high peaks.

Augustine Volcano Skiing and Hiking - 2025

Rising from the wind whipped seas of the southern Cook Inlet, Augustine Volcano has been on my list since soon after I moved to Alaska over a decade ago. Finally this spring, Dmitry and I had what we needed to make it happen. 

From Anchorage, we lifted west into the air, crossed the Knik Arm, then flew south along the west side of the Cook Inlet. We passed through the peaks of Tuxedni, Chinitina, and Iliamna, then at Ursus Cove climbed above glide slope for the crossing to the stratovolcano island.

The west beach was covered with fat otters and eagles, and it took a couple low passes to convince the wildlife to share the beach with us. We tied down to dead-manned driftwood, strapped our skis on our packs, and stepped into a grassy landscape reminiscent of the Aleutian Islands. The initial slopes of the cone are mild, and it was several miles before we gained enough elevation to leave the lava behind and reach snow.


Off the loose debris flows and onto the compact maritime snow, the slopes of the lava dome began to increase and we climbed faster. Behind Dmitry is Mount Douglas - Tony has fond memories and good stories from a ski trip down there. Hopefully someday I will get to check it out!