Wrangell St Elias National Park & McCarthy/Kennicott

One of our annual summer excursions is to drive down to Wrangell St. Elias National Park to go camping, hiking, and donate our blood to the always-heinous mosquito population of southeast Alaska. Wrangell St. Elias is the largest National Park in the country, comprised of roughly 13.2 million acres and home to McCarthy, the only fully incorporated town with a year-round population that exists inside a National Park. It existed long before the area became a National Park and has a uniquely Alaska attitude towards the park rangers and federal government in general. If you look very carefully in the sky you can see planes sky-writing “don’t tread on me” as they fly over McCarthy. At one point many years ago, McCarthy’s *own* residents blew up their *own* bridge to prevent easy access into the town by tourists and the government.

Amongst this abyss of libertarianism, which always prompts more questions than answers, lies a very cute, surprisingly posh little town filled with fun people who truly love Alaska and love the McCarthy life. Tourists from all over the world come to McCarthy/Kennicott to glacier walk, ice climb, hike, river raft, and camp. Everyone is drawn to it in their own way, and no one arrives accidently. When I was an intern at the DA’s office, Andy took myself and the other intern, William, here. After a grueling hike up to Bonanza Mine, we arrived back in Kennicott to a John Denver tribute concert and found ourselves partaking in a vegan potluck put on by the residents. I still remember how desperately hungry Andy was as he stared at a vegan cupcake on the precipice of a monumental life decision whether to eat it or not. He did.

This was our third year going to McCarthy and we made the ~~mistake~~, ~~good choice~~, ~~mistake~~, ~~good choice~~, kind of good idea to go on 4th of July. Andy and I were such presumptuous little snots at first; we took off at 1am with the intent to arrive at the campsite early, incorrectly assuming that people were not nearly as adventurous or dedicated as us and that we would have the pick of the sites, sit next to our bad-a North Face tent and gleefully laugh at the tourists stumbling in late selling their children for campsites. We rolled in around 9am, our car crammed with all the gear and arrogance we could fit in to it, to discover that basically all the campsites were gone. We finally found one, backed up against a little hill with a gorgeous view of…the road. It was cool. We were cool.

The campsite was a fascinating combination of a bathroom and a meet-‘n-greet. There was little privacy, as you couldn’t get too far in your quest to go to the bathroom without someone walking by and saying hi. At one point while I was hiding precariously behind the car, a woman on her bike drove by, waved and said “hey friends come to the parade!!”

The ~~public bathroom~~ campsite proved to be quite useful – there was indeed a parade in downtown McCarthy complete with six “floats” and random people dressed as random things. Andy and I have never seen so many people in McCarthy before. All of the organizations linked to the park came out for the little parade.

I remember commenting to Andy that everyone looked so proud to be part of the parade. The groups put a lot of work into their floats; they were passing out candy and saying hello to all the park-goers. It was also Smokey the Bear’s birthday, so we got a chance to hang out with the Bear himself!

The parade ended around 3:30 and our favorite restaurant in town, The Golden Saloon, didn’t open until 5pm. We spent the next hour or so exploring the town and looking at some of the businesses. We went over to Ma Johnson’s Historical Hotel, which creepily used to be a brothel.

Andy in front of the Brothotel

The hotel rooms. Each one has been refurnished
with new furniture. The walls in the hallways and rooms
have old pictures and historical facts on them.

The next day we got up early and caught the Kennicott Shuttle. By “shuttle” I mean a giant white van that fits as many people as the shuttle driver says will fit. The van is riddled with the carcasses of the ill-fated mosquitos that get trapped inside. For $5, the shuttle will take you on a round trip from McCarthy to the town of Kennicott where the abandoned Kennecott Mine is. The National Park Service has worked very hard the last few years to restore the mines and establish historical and educational placards, museums, and park service stores.

The Kennicott Bridge. The school house is to the bottom right
behind the small house at the beginning of the bridge. The
large structure in the background is the mine.

The mine.

We made our way through Kennicott, which took twice as long because I stopped to pet every single dog I saw. I was looking in particular for a dog named “Duke,” who’s owner worked for the local Wrangell Air Tour Guide company. I met Duke our first year to Kennicott and I completely fell in love with him. I looked for him each year we came to the park. This year, his owner let me know that Duke “was not in the office today.” Maybe we’ll see Duke next year.

There are a variety of outdoor activities one can embark on in McCarthy/Kennicott including river rafting, ice climbing, and dog petting. Andy and my favorite activity is to do day hikes up to some of the abandoned mines. The Park Service, in an effort to maintain the history, did not reinforce or repair any of these mines and allowed them to simply wear away with time and the elements. As a result, they’ve never been messed with or changed in any way. You can feel and see the history of the mines and the miners who worked in them throughout the entire hike. The first year Andy and I went to Wrangell together, we climbed up to Bananza Mine. Last year we attempted to climb to Eerie Mine but had to turn back when we lost the trail. This year, we climbed to Jumbo Mine.

I believe I was saying “Don’t stop to take my picture,
the mosquitos are going to eat meeee.”

Along the way up, hikers have to cross over Jumbo Creek. Due to the massive amounts of rain Alaska has gotten lately (we broke the record for the month of June and will likely break it for July), Jumbo creek had actually rose above the bridge the Park Service installed. I had to take off my shoes and walk across the freezing glacier water, as my boots weren’t waterproof. I then whined to Andy I was going to get frostbite.

Part way up we figured out we were following a moose:

Moose track

We never ran into him (or her). Her would have been worse. She probably would have had a calf and Moms don’t mess around.

So far, Jumbo Mine has been my favorite. More of the original mine structure exists and once you get to the top you can walk amongst the rubble. The entire way up has beautiful views of McCarthy/Kennicott as well as the Root Glacier. Once we got to the ridge line, we noticed large piles of old sun-worn, rusted cans all the way up to the mine. We later asked a knowledgeable park ranger why that was. She explained that miners would work at the mines for up to 6 months at a time and lived primarily off of canned food. They would simply discard the cans, and along with the abandoned mining equipment and other remains, the park service left them there as part of the overall historical portrait.

The cans.

The hike had a high elevation gain over just a few miles. It was grueling but worth the views and the mining ruins at the top. The way up to the mine was a constant scramble. Andy and I climb very differently. I climb quickly and never stop. Andy refers to me as “climbs like a sheep.” I tell him it’s all in the glutes. Andy climbs steadily and with precision. I always beat him up. He always beats me down. Once we got to the top, the mine ruins were awesome to explore.

Doorknob

Andy enjoying a snack

Getting down was a slightly different story. The gravel at the top was slippery and essentially operated like snow, forcing us to slide a large part of the way down. Andy let me use his hiking poles which was very chivalrous and made the trek down easier. Andy always forges ahead first. “Tiny Wife, wait here. Don’t go until I tell you to,” or “Tiny Wife, just step exactly where I’m stepping,” or “Tiny Wife for the love of god stop petting the dog and pay attention.” Always looking out for me.

By the time we got back down we were both starving. On these long grueling hikes, with about 2 miles left, I start dreaming of whatever I’m going to order at the Golden Saloon in McCarthy. I eat mainly vegetarian, vegan if I can, but my mind wanders at mile marker 8 when all day I’ve had tropical fruit snacks and a granola bar I accidentally sat on. I usually break down and get a cheeseburger at the Golden Saloon. With fries.

Andy and I got artsy with his beer and his wedding ring.

The next day Andy and I hiked across the root glacier. By “hike” I mean we forgot our crampons, went 15 feet, and realized we were probably going to die if we went any further. It had rained the night earlier and the ice was incredibly slick. We got far enough to take some pictures and turned back.