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:

Clearwater Creek Packraft - August 2023

As the place that I first learned to hunt big game in Alaska, the willowy valleys and small bald peaks of the Clearwaters are special to me.  The Clearwater Creek loop has remained lurking on my list for what seems like forever due to the drive-to-play ratio, proximity to other classics, water levels, crowds of hunters, and especially the ebb and flow of time.

With the Denali Highway deserted by a closed caribou hunt, a rainy weekend in August of 2023 seemed like the perfect time to finally check this little loop off the list. After the usual Friday night scramble to frantically pack and get out of town, we raced north on the Parks Highway through the pouring rain. By 1:00 AM, we were at the East Fork Chulitna bridge and ahead of the rain, so decided it was time to camp for the night.

The morning dawned dry with a hint of beautifully crisp fall air as we finished the drive. Stashing our packs at the Windy Creek gravel pit, we drove east down the gravel "highway" to the Clearwater Creek bridge. 


We parked the truck and started pedaling back down the blissfully abandoned road towards Windy. Normally this time of year here is a madhouse of hunters, ATVs, and trucks; it was a treat to slow down and appreciate this beautiful path across the doorsteps of the Eastern Alaska Range. 


Before long the dark clouds racing in from the south had caught us, and we finished the bike shuttle in Goretex and pouring rain. At the gravel pit we waded into the bushes to trade our bikes for hidden packs then started up the Windy Creek Road. Previously I've heard of people doing this loop via Valdez Creek, but that way is a bit longer, and we were tight on time. That being said, I'd love to explore Valdez Creek more in the future.

Sadlerochit River Packraft - June 2023

On a Friday night in the middle of June of 2023, Nyssa, Tony, Zack, and I flew north out of Anchorage for ten days in the Brooks Range. In Fairbanks we sardined into a small room at Pike's Waterfront Lodge, poached the Princess Cruise's greasy breakfast buffet, then crammed into Kirk Sweetsir's Cessna 185 for the flight into the Arctic.


Our route was based on that of many that came before us. From the Marsh Fork we planned to float down the Canning River to Cache Creek. We'd hike over the Cache to the Sadlerochit River for the float to the edge of the mountains. Then, a short crossing to the Hula Hula River for the paddle to the coast. Finally, there would be the slog across the lagoon to Barter Island for the flight home from Kaktovic.

As Kirk's taildragger climbed above the taiga forest and bending rivers of the interior, we left civilization behind.


Flying with legends like Kirk is always a treat. I love to live vicariously through the stories of these cowboys of the north. 

Little Nelchina to Tazlina Raft Trip - June 2022

Every summer I look forward to mom's annual visit. Its a chance to share our love for Alaska, the great outdoors, and a bit of misadventure. Its also provides the fun challenge of scheming up an exploit that is enjoyable for all. With road access, moderate whitewater, and a surprisingly wild feel, we settled on the Nelchina - Tazlina raft trip.

From the put-in next to the frost heaves of the Glen Highway, we'd float the brown waters of the Little Nelchina River to its confluence with the gray Nelchina River. Once reaching Tazlina Lake where it mixes in swirls with the glacial Nelchina, we'd paddle across the huge loch. Then follow the Tazlina River down its crumbling canyon to the take-out on the old gold-rush grade that is now the Richardson Highway.

We left Anchorage in a caravan with Nyssa and Bob to set the 55-mile car shuttle between the two highways. Between commuter traffic from the Valley, never-ending rockfall around the blind curves of Chickaloon, and the kamikaze moose of the Copper River Basin, this drive is a chore. Arriving at the pullout where the Little Nelchina crosses the Glen, we were all relieved to be done driving.


Its been a persistently wet year in Southcentral and the rivers have stayed stubbornly high. With its waters lapping over the bank, the Little Nel was no exception. We stuffed our gear inside the roomy cargo compartments of our two-person Forager packrafts and pushed into the chocolate milk of the river.

There wasn't much for rapids as we made our way towards the Nelchina, but with the fast waters of snowmelt, our attention was focused on avoiding the sharp spear-shaped snags of black spruce drowning in the river.

The highlight of this section for me was seeing permafrost exposed by the sinuous river eating into the S-shaped bends of its curves. Permafrost is any ground that remains completely frozen for at least two years - it isn't necessarily filled with ice - it can be frozen rock too. But, this boggy boreal landscape is wet and full of ice, and we watched ice lenses reminiscent of flying saucers dripping into the river as they emerged from the ground.

Just short of the confluence with its bigger sister, the hazard of the Little Nelchina ramped up with a river-wide log jam. Even on a smooth river like this, the danger of these pileups cannot be ignored - water is so powerful. So, we quickly eddied out and prepared to portage. The portage was relatively short, and as if knowing they had limited time to feed, the mosquitos attacked our exposed skin like a buzzing cloud of needles. Bob was recovering from his nasty knee injury, and a portage of crawling thru the thicket of alders and crutch-eating mud was no easy task. This portage would have been a bear with a bigger raft or more gear.

At the confluence with Nelchina we were all ready for a break. We pulled out on a gravel bar scoured by the power of water so to be free of brush from where the hungry bugs to stage an ambush. I think I see cheez-its, clementines, pub mix, peanut M&Ms, cream cheese, and some mysterious smashed gross yellow thing in there. Fuel of champions.

Happy River Packraft - July 2019

Every summer is a busy one here in AK. Between multiple stints of grueling fieldwork, an arctic trip, and family time, 2019 was another whirlwind of packing 12 months into three months of sunlight. When Khalial, Alex, and I had a few days where our schedules lined up with not just each other but also with the weather we jumped to snag a plane into the Alaska Range.

On a shady Friday morning with the light muted by low clouds hanging over the Anchorage bowl, we met our pilot Kip at Lake Hood. We stuffed our packs into the back of the Cessna, crawled in after, and buckled up as the big wheels of the bush plane left the ground and we pitched away from the city and across Cook Inlet.

With Kip doubling not just as pilot, but also as DJ, the tunes floating into our ears made our flight feel like a dream as we climbed thru wispy clouds and across the inlet. Back over terra firma, we flew past rivers that had left their angry rapids of the steep mountain gradient behind to be replaced by lazy winding oxbows.

We crossed the dusty braids of the Skwentna River which we would paddle a few days later, then mountains spray-painted in a thin coat of orange by the smoke of Siberian wildfires rose around us.

Yanert Packraft Traverse - September 2021

The minute we first walked up the Wells Creek ATV trail last fall brought realization of the potential access to so much country and then the dreaming and scheming of potential adventures. One that immediately stood out was a traverse from the Denali Highway to Glitter Gulch at the entrance to the Denali National Park. It wasn't until a year later that our schedules would line up for the Wells Creek - Louis Creek - Yanert - Nenana Traverse.

On a cold and rainy fall evening we drove north, leaving a shuttle Subaru at the Parks Highway bridge over the Nenana River, then turning southeast for the Denali Highway. Where the Nenana joined the gravel road of the "highway" we drove down the zigzag access road to camp where the silty brown Nenana meets the spectacular blue of Wells Creek. The dawn brought a classic crisp fall morning with the peaks above us dusted in new snow. We inflated our packrafts, made sure the car keys were packed, and paddled across the big brown conveyor belt to the ATV trail on the far side.

As moose hunters in jet boats thundered past, we squished the air out of our dripping boats, rolled them up, and stuffed them into our packs.

Photo: Nyssa Landres

Then we followed the familiar trail into the woods. So many of these trails become mud pits straight out of the Fire Swamp from the Prince Bride, but protected from heavy pounding this one is a dryish treat.

Photo: Dmitry Surnin

Climbing out of the Nenana River valley and onto the high plateau, the foothills of the Alaska Range spread out in front of us.

Photo: Dmitry Surnin

East Fork Chulitna Raft - June 2020

With an exploded and non-weighting bearing ankle, summer 2020 was one of creativity and flexibility for me and the lovely people in my life. In late June, looking for a weekend compatible with a Nova Scotia Duck Toller, crutches, and Charlie's new Forager, we drove north on the Parks Highway for a weekend road-to-road run on the East Fork Chulitna River. After staging the shuttle car at the Chulitna Bridge it was on to our campsite where the East Fork meets the highway.

I'd never been in a Forager before, and I don't think Juniper had either. As we pushed off from camp into the wave trains I vividly remember watching the little dog levitate into the air as the boat crested a wave then fell away beneath her. In the moment of weightlessness that followed she looked around in confusion before plummeting safely back to earth between Charlie's legs.

As we floated downstream the gradient of the river decreased and we left the waves behind to be replaced by the classic gray water and gravel bars of Alaska's glacial rivers. Charlie told me about his last time floating this section and the brown bear cubs whose mother had charged their rafts from the bank.

The day became a routine of paddling under cottonwoods adorned with snoozing eagles with breaks for games of fetch for Juniper and ankle elevating for me. 

Photo: Charlie Procknow

Past the confluence with Honolulu Creek we paddled under the swaying footbridge covered in loose spikey wires that we have previously used on our way to Ohio Creek. Here's a fun picture memory of that schwak with Jordan, Rey, and Conor:

Honolulu Creek packraft - 7.21.2018

Updated below to include another trip to Southcentral Alaska's Shangri-La of packrafting at Broad Pass over the 4th of July weekend 2021.

After a prolonged negotiation with Leah, we agreed to an alpine-start at Fire Island at 8:55 on Saturday morning. By 9:30 we were on the road with cookies, scones, and coffee for fuel. We stopped by the Honolulu Creek bridge to check on water levels, chatted up a vanload of curious Indian tourists, hydrated on Bud Light Lime, and by 1:30 were hiking out of the Hurricane Gulch parking lot. After Aniakchak, it felt weird to be walking on a trail made by wheels instead of one made by the terrifyingly large brown bear paws of the Alaska Peninsula. The climb went by quickly and was broken up by a friendly family of rednecks on a six-wheeler followed by a long break under the cloudless skies. It was hard to feel hurried with nearly infinite daylight and perfect weather.

Coffee Pizza Beer Packraft

Updated below to include a May day on the Nenana with mom in 2021.

Most people know of this adventure as the "Coffee Pizza Beer Packraft". Aptly named because the loop up Carlo Creek and back down the Nenana starts and ends with at a restaurant that offers just that.


After a memorable search for our friend Allie's cabin and a leisurely coffee at the Cafe, we were on our way.


For better or for worse, an ATV trail allowed us to skip the joys of bushwhacking and we were soon climbing higher and higher through the tundra of Carlo Creek drainage.

Copper River Raft - September 2020

After a great fly-in trip on the Chickaloon, we went back to Anchorage to refuel, check emails, repack, then hit the road for Chitina. The drive was a mix of fall colors, snowy peaks, and Planet Money. At the river the winds were blowing sand into our eyes as we loaded our boats and tucked the car behind a sad bunch of trees.

There were seals (and a few dipnetters) in Wood Canyon as we zipped thru. The water in the canyon was flat, but the eddy lines were strong, and it was impressive to see the river piling into the rock walls and spinning off 50 foot whirlpools. 

Even with the headwind and low flows we made an easy six miles in the first hour. As we exited the canyon, the winds died down, the country opened up around us, and we leaned back to look around.

The mountains rose above as we floated down the river. I've never seen 8,000 feet of relief from a river before.

Chickaloon River Packraft - September 2020

Saturday started as a beautiful, crisp, and clear fall day waiting for Mike Meekin at his airstrip above the Matanuska Valley. Around noon he was back and chatting our ears off as we loaded our backpacks into his 185 for the flight to the pass between the Chickaloon and Talkeetna drainages.

The ground fell away as we lifted off and banked north. Covered in the burnt colors of fall, the Talkeetna Mountains rose around us.

We flew past the jagged monolith of Mount Monarch covered in a white blanket by snow showers the night before.

After Monarch we crossed the colorful landscape of Chitna Pass, and then were over the Chickaloon River and looking towards its namesake glacier. Years ago we tried to go skiing up there. The terrain is great, the snowpack can be less so.

Gulkana River Raft - June 2020

For my birthday the last couple of years Mary has given the present of a car shuttle. Last year she drove the Subie from Coldfoot back to Fairbanks, and this year she agreed to meet us at Sourdough for the shuttle up to Paxson Lake. 

First we had to get there. After working Thursday we rushed to load the car, pick up Zahalial's canoe, load the canoe, and reload the canoe. Then Emily drove as my non-weight bearing left foot still couldn't operate the clutch pedal - thanks Emily! Around 1:00 AM we rolled into the campground, found Mary's tent, and curled up in the solstice light.

In the morning Mary made cinnamon-chocolate chip-buckwheat-birthday pancakes and four humans and four dogs loaded up for the shuttle north.

The loons were calling on the lake as we loaded up the boats and pushed into the calm gray waters reflecting the cloudy skies.  

The paddle across the lake wasn't actually the slog I'd expected and before long we were sliding into the accelerating current of the river. We stopped at the old trapper's cabin for little prospecting and fishing. 

Bull River to Ohio Creek Packraft - June 2019

Updated 8/24/2020 to include another great day on the Bull.

On June 8th and 9th 2019, Connor, Rey, Jordan and I returned to the Bull. The plan had been the East Fork of Chulitna, but word from Brad M. was too much snow. He recommended instead linking up the Bull with Ohio Creek.

At Pass Creek we left a shuttle before continuing to the usual trailhead at the Middle Fork Chulitna bridge. The ATV trail to the Bull was covered in prints from moose, momma bears, baby bears, and a pair of Salomon Speedcross running shoes. Sections were a bit swampy:


This May was a wet and cold one, green-up was just starting at Broad Pass.


Rey says that Broad Pass is the weekend packrafting Shangri-La: reasonable access from Anchorage, easy trails, lots of water, and killer views.

South Fork Matanuska Packraft - August 2019

Connor and I had been dreaming about an August trip. We wanted the Talkeetna, but at 9,000 cfs it was above my packrafting pay grade. With the hot and dry weather, paddling options were limited - technical glacial rivers were pumping while everything else was bone dry. The South Fork provided a nice compromise of glacial volume without the packraft eating holes that a technical river would bring.

On Saturday morning we met Cam at the Lionshead shuttle, dropped a vehicle, then found Alex and Evan at Caribou Creek. The crisp morning air warned of the changing seasons as we pushed off for the short first float.


At the Caribou-South Fork Matanuska confluence we ferried across, rolled up our boats, and hiked up the drainage towards the Matanuska Glacier. About a mile of minor bushwhacking along game trails covered in moose poo and we were at the glacier.


Next to the glacier we cruised on old moraines and out-wash bars.

Aniakchak Packraft Traverse - July 2018

Saturday morning started with the buzz of our little plane as we flew over the lakes, rivers, and volcanoes of the Alaska Peninsula. We were on the way to Port Heiden to traverse to Chignik Lagoon. I wondered about the odometer on the dashboard. 25,000 hours. How far is that? 250,000 miles? Or 10 times around the earth. Or, 2000 times as long as our traverse.


We stopped briefly in Ugashik to drop off two elders on the way. It was a quiet day at the post office there:


The old plane bounced back into the sky and over wandering caribou, ponds ornamented with pairs of swans, and ground broken by the ice polygons of permafrost. 45 minutes later, Port Heiden's gravel airstrip came into focus thru the coastal mist. Hopping out, Grant's Village Agent Billie was waiting for us. At the Post Office we said "hi" to Meg, Dan, and Gavin then crawled back into Billie's van for the taxi service to the end of the road. At the river we started hiking towards the caldera.