Caines Head Hiking - Feb 2014

Updated below to include another great adventure in 2026 from the Caines Head trailhead.

The last seven months have been absolutely great. 20 Mile, Carpathian, Kanuti: its impossible to pick a favorite. But, at the beginning of February things were bleak. Actually, they were dark and downright wet. December and January were filled with unstable snow and, as the Weather Service put it, a firehouse of tropical moisture (rain).

That Friday night brought the usual weekend warrior data collection and decision making: making phone calls, reading blogs, and checking weather stations. Conclusion: it had rained everywhere; skiing was not in the cards.

So, Toni, Alex, Rachel, and I did something different: we didn't go skiing. Instead we drove south toward Callisto Cabin (reservations here) along the beach outside of Seward.

Our dear friend Nick had been making the most of the rain by skating the smooth ice that it had left behind. Following his advice we stopped at Tern Lake on the way to Seward:


The hike to the Caines Head cabins is an awesome beach walk at low tide. With the short winter days, the low tide occured in the dark. Walking on the icy beach in the dark in February was a bit sketchy, which I was recently reminded of when my coworker broke his leg doing the same walk in the day this summer.

Walking in the dark, we felt the cold katabatic wind draining the valley behind the Callisto Cabin and knew it was time to leave the beach and look for the cabin. Found it!


All hut/cabin trips are accompanied with at least a few memorable games of Bananagrams. This time Toni learned a new word. Thanks Alex!

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!

Jack River Packraft - June 2016

Updated in 2025 include another great day on this gem of a river.
For my birthday last year we mountain biked for two hours, then ran six miles barefoot on the beach, then went climbing, then did a class III float, and finished with a sunset hike. This year, after throwing around a few equally unreasonable ideas we settled on the Jack River over Caribou Pass as a logistically feasible combination of birthday fun.

Starting along the Parks Highway 3.6 miles south of Cantwell, we followed an ATV/bear/moose trail across the flats and were soon gaining elevation.


ATV trails are an interesting contradiction for non-motorized users: they leave eroded scars on the landscape, but without them, vegetated trail-less areas would be nearly impenetrable. Perhaps they are the true multi-use trail? Andalyn is probably debating this conundrum here:


At 3,000 feet we began to sidehill and wrapped SE into a valley towards the pass to the Middle Fork Chulitna drainage. As sidehilling goes it was quite pleasant.

Windy Creek Packraft - 6.13.2025

Windy Creek is one of the more approachable classics of the day trip packrafting Shangri La that is Broad Pass. As such, I figured I would have gotten around to it a decade ago, at least five years ago, or at a minimum a couple years ago. But, we are gifted with myriad routes, peaks, and rivers to explore here. With so many of these adventures, its just impossible to get to them all right away. It wasn't until a sunny afternoon this June that Jordan and I pulled into the parking lot in Cantwell and finally stepped onto the old trail into the Alaska Range.


The trail was wide and started pretty dry - a luxury for a well used route in this boggy area. Even better were all the signs of life in this wild place. Beneath our feet we passed the tracks of moose, bears, wolves, and their furry poo too.


There was also evidence of the smaller creatures that make a living here. I loved this tree that some hungry porcupine had thought was delicious.

Moody Creek Packraft - 6.3.2017

Updated in 2025 include another great day on this little chocolate river.

After a dry winter in the Alaska Range (and everywhere else), spring 2017 brought persistent cool weather to Southcentral. We wanted to get onto the water, but the weather history was tricky for predicting how much water we'd find. Driving north on the Parks Highway, the plan was to make a game-time decision. Passing Honolulu Creek, it had way too much water in it, so we headed for Moody.

We dropped a bike shuttle at the Healy bridge then parked at Dragonfly Creek to begin our customary late start. Following the dry drainage was straightforward and within a mile we were on the clear ridge.


Complete with game trail highways, the ridge was a great way to gain elevation towards the plateau above. Pretty good views southwest into the foothills of the Alaska Range too.


It also had vivid folding rock patterns to check out. The quartz intrusions are neat. Alex for scale:

Okpilak River Packraft - June 2024

Last June, Nyssa, Hazel, Charlee, Tony, Charlie and I headed north for our solstice pilgrimage to the Arctic. In Fairbanks, we met with Kirk Sweetsir who flew us in his bushplane to where the Hulahula River cuts through the Romanzoff Mountains of the Brooks Range. From there, we worked our way down the Hulahula to the edge of the coastal plain where we portaged to the Okpilak River. We explored the country around the Okpilak Hot Springs then floated the Okpilak to the edge of the coastal plain before one last portage to Kaktovic and our flight home. I think this is a close replica of a trip that Ken Hill, Robin Beebee, Ed Plumb, and Seth Adams did years ago - I'm sure others have done it as well.

The adventure started early on a Saturday June morning in Fairbanks as we dragged ourselves out of bed, injected caffeine into our groggy brains, and Ubered to Wright Air. We dropped off the Charliees and Tony who would fly to Arctic Village in one of Wright's Cessna Grand Caravans where Kirk would double back to get them after dropping us off at the landing strip.

Typical of operations serving rural Alaska, Wrights wasn't open yet, and we left the trio standing outside to figure out finding breakfast while we went looking for Kirk. The Yukon Air hangar was also deserted upon our arrival and it was our turn to work on breakfast while we waited for Kirk. Breakfast was on the way by the time Kirk pulled up in his Subaru. Then we started digging around for the bear spray and fuel he has stashed for us and stuffing our gear into his Cessna 185. Packing was pretty quick and we are soon airborne and leaving Fairbanks behind. As we flew north, the foothills of the Brooks Range begin to grow out of the vast northern coniferous forest. 


The taiga melted away below replaced by surreal barren mountains rising around us. These peaks aren't tall, but they cut into sky with their raw untamed beauty. 


As we passed the continental divide, and flew into the Hulahula watershed, I was filled with excitement to explore this wild place of caribou, pastel colors, and beautiful rivers.

Spirit Walker - 2.12.2025

With its beautiful 3,500 vertical foot west face of sustained avalanche terrain rising straight out Mills Creek, Spirit Walker has been on my list for what seems like forever. But, as it has a tendency to do, time has ticked forward without me skiing Spirit Walker or many of the other things on the list. 

Before the glorious midwinter ski window of 2025 came to an end, Dan and I drove south out of Anchorage to give the Summit classic a go. Around Twentymile I realized my beacon was not present. Discussions, brainstorming, justifying, and phone calls ensued. We were saved in Girdwood with a loaner beacon from George - thank you so much. Back on track, we were soon leaving the inversion of Canyon Creek behind and skinning up the old mining road.

We left the road behind where the west ridge of Spirit Walker met the mining grade and began to climb up the ridgeline. I'd heard horror stories about trying to navigate this ridge and imagine they are true between the top of Soul Fire and the true summit, but when we dropped into the Soul Fire face we'd encountered nothing but smooth travel on our climb.


The snow surface had an unpleasant looking texture and it was hard to believe it would ski ok, but a little bit of faith and a few bad turns brought us past the bad wind affect and into really faceted windboard that skied a bit liked corn. I enjoyed the consistent pitch of the ribs of Soul Fire and chased after Dan until we were at the bottom and right under Spirit Walker proper. The detour warmup lap was a great way to maximize the approach to the objective and spend less time in the mega terrain trap of Mills Creek. Stoked on the snow conditions we'd found and what was to come, I continued my hopeless pursuit of Dan as he raced towards the top.


We followed Zack, Claire, and Eli's old skintrack up the south ridge towards the summit. Soaked in sunlight and generally out of significant avalanche terrain, it felt like a great way to get to the peak.

Wolverine Peak Ski - 4.10.2020

Updated in February 2025 to include another great day on Wolverine.

It was April and we were all chomping at the bit. But, I was tired from my solo Bench Peak slog the previous day, and was looking for more vertical and less horizontal. So, Connor, Jordan, and I settled on a circumnavigation of a Turnagain classic - Wolverine.

We parked at the Eddies lot and followed the familiar trail into the woods before leaving the Iditarod Trail and contouring into Wolverine Creek. 


Leaving the hemlock forest behind, we startled two moose who, cautious of hungry bears, high-tailed it up the north face of Eddies. Oddly, the moose were still postholing towards the heavens as we skinned out of sight. 

Under Wolverine's iconic northwest-facing catcher's mitt we turned left and started climbing. I'd found good snow in the mid elevations of Bench the previous day, and hoped for the same, but no luck. By the the upper face we were front-pointing on a nearly unskiable mix of rime, ice, icy windboard, and debris.

Photo: Connor Johnson

Kickstep Mountain Skiing - 1.25.2015

Updated January 2016 and again February 2025 to include more great days on Kickstep.

There are days that you know that you have everything in your favor: weather, stability, beta, etc. Then, there are days where some pieces of the puzzle might not fit, you don't know how it will turn out.

Josh on the approach up CFR ridge.

Sunday was a day that started out as a question mark, but in the end, it lined up perfectly.

The warm up run.

The question mark was the weather, forecast to be cold and breezy. Cold enough that a wrong turn, avalanche, or crevasse incident could mean hypothermia. We set our sights on a smaller objective: the Library via Tincan Proper.

The Library dwarfed by Kickstep.

Aleutian Picture Project

The Aleutian Islands are a chain of 14 large volcanic islands, and 55 smaller ones extending in an arc westward 1,200 miles from the Alaskan Peninsula towards the Kamchatka Peninsula. It is a gnarly world of strong wind, heavy rain, ubiquitous fog, and people that probably aren't like you.

In my early 30s, I spent 5 years working on contaminated site cleanup projects in the Aleutians. Now I work on coastal engineering projects there; sometimes we even visit for fun. Like the Prince William Sound and Kanuti Picture Projects, this post is made up of unique and memorable moments that stand out. 

The islands are a punishing land, but a place of abundance. They are a major breeding ground for seabirds who nest on steep cliffs and rely on the rich marine environment for food. During the summer months, the archipelago becomes a vital stop for migratory species traveling between North America and Asia. The Aleutian cackling goose is an endemic subspecies of the Canada goose, notable for its smaller size and adapted to the harsh world of the Aleutians. Raptors including peregrine falcons, eagles, and hawks also call these windswept rocks home. The islands are affected by introduced species including cattle, caribou, foxes, and rats: the ecosystems and animals are visibly different on islands with introduced mammals.  


Aboard the C/V Miss Alyssa on the passage from Dutch Harbor to a project on Unalga Island, we encountered something unusual for the Aleutians: blue skies, light winds and calm seas. Dutch Harbor averages 80 inches of rain, 250 rainy days, and 150 days of fog per year. Meanwhile, powerful Pacific storms batter the islands throughout the year with gale-force winds, typhoons, and dangerous storm surges.


With the exception of some stunted willows, the vast majority of the chain is devoid of native trees. On some of the islands, there are a few coniferous trees left over from the Russians. Aleutian conifers, some up to two hundred years old, rarely reach even 10 feet tall because the winds here like to snap off anything taller.

Eklutna to Pioneer - 8.17.2024

Its been about a decade since the last time Tarah and I followed the gorgeous rolling ridges from Eklutna Lake to Pioneer. During that time it has stayed fresh in my mind as a special treat to return to. Finally, in August 2024, Nyssa and I left the shuttle car on the shoulder next to the packed Pioneer Ridge Trailhead and retraced our tire tracks up the steep winding road to the lake.

There was just a hint of the sharp fall smell of cranberries as we left the parking lot behind and hiked up the switchbacks towards Pepper Peak. Above the birch forest, the otherworldly aquamarine waters of Eklutna Lake stretched away from us. Across the lake, Thunderbird Ridge mirrored our plans for the day. I think it’s one of the best ridges around here; and ties into Peters Creek—a place that feels about as wild and untamed as any corner of Southcentral AK.


Its a hoof up Pepper, and I was ready for a quick lunch at the top. We looked west past Palmer towards the Talkeetna Mountains where we have so many hiking, paddling, and skiing memories.


My eyes were drawn to the Sheep Glacier, where I had a relatively unsuccessful ski trip years ago.

Nellie Juan Skiing - April 2024

Spring in the Prince William Sound is a time of contrasts that I look forward to each year: deep snow, vibrant blue waters, and endless adventure. This past April, Nyssa, Scott, Emrys, and I set out for a weekend of skiing, shrimping, and exploring the dynamic terrain of Port Nellie Juan.

After surviving the usual Whittier mayhem of the tunnel, parking, and the boat ramp, we leave the harbor behind and motor down Passage Canal and then across Port Wells. The wake of the boat chases us as we turn right and slip into the sheltered waters of Culross Passage.

Photo: Emrys Hall

At the end of the passage, the glassy waters of Nellie Juan spread away from us as we set our shrimp pots. There’s always the sense of mystery when dropping the pots into depths - wondering whether they’ll yield a haul of prawns, a few baby tanner crabs, a pile of mud, or something unexpected.

Photo: Emrys Hall

With the pots soaking, we skin into the temperate rainforest. The snowpack is deep, etched with rain runnels, and uncooperative underfoot - a slippery ascent through the trees that is a laugh-filled start to the tour.

Photo: Emrys Hall