Realizing we had a pretty narrow weather window for the plane to pick us on the beach, Jim suggested that we get camp rolled up and start down the slope by noon. Given his information was dead-on for every part of the trip so far, I was not about to voice any dissension.
While we were packing, fog was rolling in off the ocean, making me wonder if the weather window was tighter than we thought. Not that spending a few days on the beach waiting for weather to clear would be the end of the world, but Tyler had another hunt to get to later in the week and my stack of projects at the office could use a few extra days of work applied toward them.
A bit after noon, we were loaded. Jim had a better idea for a trail to descend; parallel to the route we took up here, but a bit lower, hopefully avoiding the crevasses and other obstacles the rock formations caused. He thought that with out heavy loads, it would be another 5-7 hours down, depending upon how blown in his old route would be.
Before heading down, he told us of a story from the last trip in here six years ago. The guy with him questioned Jim's choice of route. Seems the guy thought Jim had represented that a trail existed here. Jim reminded his buddy that it was a "route," not a trail. Jim took the few minutes to relay that story and it rung true to us; there are not trails here, only "routes."
No matter what I do to try explain the struggles of this descent, it will not adequately describe what it entailed. I've been on slopes this steep with heavy loads. I've been in patches of brush that were as thick as this was, but only for a small distance, not for the entire course. I've hunted thick stuff in other parts of the country; Alaska takes that to a new level and I knew it from past hunts there, but I think my mind had blocked it from memory. I've been on snot-slippery slopes with wet vegetation, but only for a small distance before a firmer footing was found.
Never have I been over six hours on such steep slopes that traversed such thick brush and blowdown for their entire length on soils and vegetation that were as unstable and slick as what I traveled on this path. My legs look like someone took a hammer to them, full of bruises from falling and stumbling into invisible deadfalls, or worse yet, having to stick your leg out to slow/stop the gravity-induced slide you and your heavy pack have started down.`
Since I drive a desk for a living, I know some are thinking this is just a fat-assed CPA sniveling about some tough sledding. Probably, so I provide some additional insight to what this entailed.
Tyler Johnerson has been my camera man for most of the last year and will be for most of this year. He is high on the list of backcountry badasses; probably in the Top 10 backcountry badasses you would find in Montana. All he could do is shake his head when it became obvious this descent was going to take six hours to go one mile to the beach. Afterwards, much of what Tyler talked about was how frustrating the country is to try navigate. If it is a humpbuster for Tyler, then I don't worry that I got a bit frustrated by the time we got to the bottom third, the place where steepness lessened and thickness became the frustration of the day.
About an hour of daylight remained when Jim looked at me and said, "I apologize in advance, but I'm getting out of this (*&*( #$Q#& (@#^%# God-forsaken jungle, only to disappear into the green abyss. I could not see him, but I could hear him. I benefited from some of the brush he broke, but in most instances, as he passed, the brush would rebound to its original position and reach to swallow the next fool willing to push through it.
Yeah, we got to the beach in one piece. I learned a few new cuss words and I think I created a couple of my own that heretofor had no been part of my considerable vocabulary of such words. Nobody talked too much while we set tents, filtered water, and tried to reorganize out disheveled selves.
With the relief of reaching our beach camp and no significant injury, I figured it would be a great time to break out the bag of marinade I had carried in optimistic anticipation of this moment. I tossed three tenderloins and a bunch of backstraps in the marinade and let it work, while Tyler and Jim got serious about a prime beach fire for cooking them.
Inserting food into the discussion instantly had us back in high spirits, almost forgetting what the last six hours had inflicted on our bodies. Nothing like fresh venison on a stick to make hungry bodies appreciate why we do what we do and the way it connects us to the landscape.
The fog lifted as we started our way into the jungle. The last open country we would see between now and the beach.
1,400' of this takes a toll on the body, mind, and equipment. Our path requires we navigate down this steepness with 100#+ loads in our packs.
Climbing out of a creek while crawling through a tunnel in the Devil's Club.
Some of the best venison I have ever tasted. It has an excellent flavor, quite distinct from other deer meat I've tried.
The plane came as scheduled and we were thankful. Much later and we would have been socked in at the beach for a couple more days.
A proven combination that took some serious abuse on this hunt.
At the beach, happy to have this load resting on something other than my back. The new Mystery Ranch Marshall is great.
Gerber Vital, the best replaceable blade knife I have found. I would suggest those who are afraid of losing a finger when changing blades on other brands would find this to be an excellent choice.
Some will ask about equipment performance. A few things impressed the hell out of me.
First is the rain gear I used. Alaskans swear by HH or other impervious rain gear, and with good reason. I took Sitka's Stormfront series raingear, both jacket and pants. This raingear took all that abuse, not a single leak or failure, and looks almost new after being washed this morning.
Mystery Ranch sent me the new Marshall pack to try on this hunt. It is 6,700 cubic inches. It is an extremely smart design, with great adaptability for a multi-day pack to compress to a day pack and meat hauler. Tyler is making is request to MR for one of these, seeing the many new features it has that are great for a hunt like this.
Kenetrek Mountain Extreme boots. Some comment that their Kenetreks leak. I figured no place to test that theory than the wetness of SE Alaska. Before leaving, I reapplied the boot wax that Kenetrek provides with every pair of boots. I do this every couple hunts during the season. My feet stayed dry this entire trip, even with all the rain, the crossing of creeks, walking through bogs, and the general atmospheric humidity that hovers closer to 100% than 50%. Terrain like this requires great ankle support and these boots provided just that.
Katadyn Base Camp Pro 10L water filter. This is the slickest thing I've found for filtering water when you have even a small water source nearby. It weighs no more than a pump model, and by using gravity, can filter way more water than a pump model will.
Gerber Gator Premium fixed blade knife. Like I mentioned in the Alaska black bear thread, I have been using these knives this year, both for hunting and the nuisance critters I trap. These are scary sharp and so far, the one I am using has handled a black bear, three beaver, and most of a Sitka blacktail. Still razor sharp. Nice to finally discover a fixed blade knife that is razor-sharp and stays that way.