Alaskan June

I started this month off with a quiet moment on the Turnagain Arm Trail - Kodak Portra 400.

Another quiet moment from the Twin Peaks Trail - Portra 400.

Still meeting more moose than usual this spring.

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Teklanika River Campground

Thirty miles down the Denali National Park Road is the Teklanika River Campground, and it is currently my favorite campground in Alaska. The campground itself is the typical layout of spots with a picnic table and fire ring. There are a few vaulted toilets, trash bins, and usually a camp host. What I like so much about it is that it is quiet. First, you have to reserve a minimum of three nights, which cuts down on the transient party crowds. Additionally, once you park at your spot, that’s it, your car has to stay there, you can’t go out driving around, which cuts down on traffic significantly. There are posted quiet hours at night, and you can only run generators from 8-10 am and 4-8 pm, which I love! I’m in the habit of making a five-day reservation each spring now.

I pulled into the parking lot at the park entrance, where you check in, and met a moose calf. I hoped this was a good omen.

I saw a few caribou on the drive to the campground, and that was it.

There’s a section of road where inbound and outbound traffic has to stop and wait so that any sheep waiting to cross have time to cross this section of road during the first ten minutes of every hour. I always wondered if anyone told the sheep this…

I’m sure it makes perfect sense on some white paper somewhere, so I comply.

I got to the campground, found a spot with easy access to the river, and set up camp. I had the travel trailer, so setting up camp went quickly.

The first thing I noticed was that there were lots of robins, and they had a lot to say. I heard nothing but robins all day and all night in camp.

There were a ton of ground squirrels in and around the campground as well.

The camp robbers would stop by from time to time, but they got nothing from me.

I went on several short hikes each day. With the river being so low, it was easy to wander a few miles up or down river. I found mostly week-old caribou tracks and the occasional old bear track. Last year there were caribou out here on the river every day.

If I wasn’t hiking the river, I was wandering around the foothills. They’re covered in tussocks, which made for slow progress, so I never went far and spent most of my time sitting on some random rock just watching. I saw some distant caribou occasionally and one grizzly briefly, about two miles away, crossing over a low ridge line, heading away from me.

Humans: We’re going to put gnarly, Mad Max looking spikes around our signs to keep the bears from chewing on them.

Bears: Hold my beer.

I saw a few more caribou along the road on the way out.

Hell. If I had to describe these tour buses in one word, it would be hell. I would absolutely lose my eff’ing mind if I had to spend all day packed into one of these cans.

I know, these tourists have no other option, and I’m glad they get to at least see the park. That’s a good thing. But every time I see one of these buses, I thank god I live here and that I have other options.

There’s my option, but I’m getting kind of tired of dragging this travel trailer around when it’s just me. I think next year, if I stay only three nights, I’ll bring a tent. If I stay longer, I’ll bring the trailer because, to be totally honest, after a few days of camping, getting to start and finish each day with a quick shower is pretty damn nice.

Anyway, good trip, and looking forward to next year.

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We spent the holiday weekend camping with friends and family at Byers Lake.

We got into the mosquitoes pretty good on one hike.

Mama moose checking to see if the coast is clear before bringing her babies into our backyard.

They came in briefly, but the breeze blew their scent straight into the open house windows, which Koda picked up on and started barking. So they left.

I took my kids and one of their friends out to the inlet to practice spraying expired cans of bear spray so they know what to expect if they ever have to do it for real.

Then I showed them how not to get stuck in that pancake-batter mud, and how to get unstuck before the tide comes in and drowns them.

A juvenile Bald Eagle we passed on our way out to the inlet.

I like to randomly wander around off trail from time to time because you never know what you’ll stumble upon. The other night, I found this owl box. I’ll have to check it occasionally for residents in the future.

A short time later, on the same hike, I found this electric razor, just lying on the ground out in the middle of the woods. I had an empty pocket, so I brought it home and threw it away.

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I think that rock moved…

I will often pause my hikes and just sit somewhere and watch. In this case, I found a nice rock on the side of a slope in Hunter Pass to sit on, overlooking the Muktuk Marston Trail. The sun was warm and the breeze was enough to keep the bugs at bay. I had just watched a bald eagle silently glide through the pass when, returning my gaze to the trail below, it occurred to me that a dark rock I had noticed earlier may have moved from the middle of the trail to the side. I watched it for a few moments, and sure enough, it was moving up the trail.

The moving dark rock, dead center of this photograph.

Ground squirrel, marmot, porcupine…? Whatever it is, the eagle surely saw it and wasn’t interested.

I zoomed in and took a photo with my telephoto lens. Then I displayed the photo in preview mode and zoomed in even more. Porcupine it is.

I never hide from wildlife, nor will I ever position myself directly in its path. But I will position myself along its path, off to the side, with all due regard for conditions, terrain, and what kind of animal it is. I left my pack, grabbed a water bottle, and headed back down the slope to intercept this porcupine hiking up the trail.

I found a nice rock to sit on and patiently waited about fifteen minutes for it to arrive. As it got closer, it became obvious that the porcupine had no idea that I was sitting there, out in the open, waiting for it. I eventually felt compelled to let it know I was there, “Good evening Captain Oblivious.” I said in a quiet tone.

It immediately stood up on its hind legs and gave me this look.

How one doesn’t bust out laughing when on the receiving end of a look like that is beyond me.

It sat down to ponder this new turn of events. I stayed on my rock and let it figure out what to do next.

It started to look around. Looking for other humans, or perhaps remembering that dogs often accompany humans around here.

Eventually, it continued up the trail towards me a little, but then turned away and headed up the sunny slope I had recently come down from. Occasionally, it would glance back at me.

I guess like me, it decided the sun and breeze was pretty nice, and it laid down to stay a while. I needed to get moving, so I gave it a wide berth as I hiked back up the sunny slope to retrieve my pack and continue up to the peak for sunset.

Midnight in the Chugach Mountains. A three-shot exposure blend, which is pretty close to what I was seeing as I covered the last half mile back to my truck.

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And this handsome young bull is my final photo of the month.

Thank you for being here,

Sean Mitchell

Eagle River