Heading out for our first ski (looking down river)

We all agreed it was a ridiculously uneventful landing.  The Ward Air beaver on skis made one pass over the cabin, turned above the meadow, and descended onto the river, touching down just below the edge of the marshy slough upriver from the cabin.  It was such a soft touchdown I had to squint to confirm that we were on the snow at all.  The beaver slid past the cabin and continued down the river and was well on its way to the big slough before Ed turned the plane, gunned it a bit to get over a lump under the ice, and taxied to the front of the cabin.  The day was glorious, calm and mostly sunny; we all clambered out, including Ed, and chatted for some time on the river.  Chris and Torsten romped with an ecstatic Cailey, surrounded by endless plains of hard packed snow.  Eventually, the two of them climbed back into the beaver with the pilot and took off for Juneau, leaving my mother and me standing on the ice with Cailey in the middle of the Taku River.

It was our third attempt at the trip, having been foiled twice in February, once by warm and stormy conditions and the other time with similar conditions and scheduling conflicts.  This time we'd scheduled the flight following nearly a week of cold, clear weather that improved landing conditions on the river and lingered unexpectedly into Friday for our flight.  The weather forecast called for rain and snow, but we stood in the sunshine watching the ice crystals on the river glint without a hint of any impending southeasterly.  My mother and loaded a sled with our gear and hauled everything up the steep bank of the river onto the packed snow above and to the cabin door beyond.  Given the moist winter, there was less snow than I expected--about five feet in most places--and we were able to slide onto the porch with ease.  Finding the key was a little trickier, but before we knew it the doors were open and the shutters over the picture window were letting in a surprising amount of light (we were grateful for that, as the other shutters were helplessly frozen in snow beneath the eves).  We found the cabin in perfect condition and set to work settling in.  I took the shovel my mother brought and started digging out the propane tank, tucked in the corner of the logs by the edge of the back porch and under all the snow that had sloughed off the roof.  The snow was hard packed and crystallized, but came out easily enough with a little work (I'd soon stripped off most of my layers).  Close to the ground it finally occurred to me that I'd seen two propane tanks on the front porch and my mother confirmed that they'd actually disconnected the tank last fall!  Most of my work was not in vain, though, as I still needed to dig a hole for the tank all the way to ground level so the short copper line beneath the porch could reach it.  My mom brought over the tank and crawled under the porch to unearth the line and we soon had it all connected.  In the meantime, she'd also started a fire inside and climbed to the chimney on a convenient pinnacle of snow to make sure the bent cap on the stack was allowing the stove to draw air (it was). 

By this time we'd both worked up an appetite, so we quickly unpacked as I made quesadillas on the propane range and drank modelo especials that my mother brought.  The day was still glorious and we couldn't believe our good fortune for finally having made it up there--the winter trip we'd talked about for so long.  At 1:30 we were suited up on our skis and headed to the river.  We were both unnecessarily bundled up and started shedding layers almost as soon as we were underway.  The sun and the exercise warmed us and my mother left her scarf and sweatshirt behind on the snow.  I tied my winter coat and fleece around my waist and skied in long underwear for some time.  The day was absolutely glorious, the sun casting beams of dramatic light over the Taku Glacier when it wasn't illuminating the wide expanse of smooth snow around us.  There were no obvious open leads, and few logs showed their heads above the snow and ice, so the river was a vast expanse of smooth, hard snow crystals--perfect cross-country ski substrate.  As we approached the marshy area upriver, I cut off and cruised to the main river bank to explore some tracks I'd seen from the air which turned out to be, not surprisingly, moose.  Though the prints were poorly formed at best, the moose had post-holed what must have been four feet down in some places and there's no other animal that can do that!  There was also an old pile of scat to confirm identification.  I saw quite a few moose tracks there on the riverbank, at least one set of which headed out into the middle of the river.  I heard, but did not see, ravens.

We continued north up the riverbank, noting a wet area where the slough emerged and a chunk of muddy riverbank exposed between snow layers.  We soon passed the marsh and skied along the forested riverbank.  Everything was beautiful and intriguing and I annoyed myself with how many photos I wanted to take.  Not far up, we passed the mouth of a slough emerging from the forest, likely the one crossed by the Bradley-Ogden Bridge on the road from the lodge.  About 20 feet of slough ice was exposed, but banks of snow rose from it where it met the river that were trampled by myriad tracks in a wide arc.  The top of the snow mounds to either side of the confluence were adorned with many piles of closely spaced scat.  I didn't know it at the time, but river otter scat piles are known as spraints and otters make "spraint stations" to mark their territory.  Whatever otter owned this slough had been busy!  It was a fascinating find and we imagined the otter sliding under the ice as he cruised his slough--there was one small patch of open water in the ice.

Somewhat shy of Timber Point we came across more tracks in the snow emerging from the woods and heading along the riverbank; though the tracks weren't fresh and were somewhat degraded, we guessed wolf based on the shape and gait and we confirmed that farther on where he or she had left clear canine prints in the snow.  A second set of tracks crossed the other at a right angle (also emerging from the woods) and headed straight across the river.  A third set emerged from the forest farther on and joined the first in his or her trot upriver, stepping closely in the other's tracks.  Unfortunately, our tracking was cut short by an open lead that trapped us between the forest and the rest of the river (see photo to left).  The wolves had jumped the three or four foot opening with apparent ease, but we had to backtrack until a collapsed snow bridge gave us passage.  The water was perfectly clear, which was interesting, and only a couple of inches deep, so there was no danger to using the bridge.  From there we headed across the river toward the northern corner of Hole-in-the-Wall Glacier; I was pleased to find that skiing across the nearly featureless landscape was much more enjoyable than I'd imagined!  I stopped along the way and sat on a conveniently curved root sticking up from a sandbar and enjoyed the view before we finished the ski to the opposite shore.  Our goal was Sockeye Creek, but it turned out to be surprisingly difficult to find.  The river in that area weaves around several willowed islands and it was not at all obvious where the creek actually began.  We think we found it, but it was in itself anti-climactic.  More fun was skiing through the willows that thrive in the sandy soil between the river and the glacier.  My mom spotted a tall willow crowned in white from a distance and correctly guess they were pussy willows, most still with a protective cap clinging to them.  From there we could see that a handful of other willows were similarly adorned, perhaps 5% of them.  And between the stands of willow there were many more moose and wolf tracks.

After crossing what we believed was Sockeye Creek, we skied into a dense grove of cottonwoods, sent a quick "okay" message home from Spot, and reluctantly headed back downriver (we'd already been underway three hours and knew that darkness was coming).  Given more time, we would have happily skied up Sockeye Creek and continued exploring that side of the river.  Instead, we headed along the toe of Hole-in-the-Wall Glacier, the deep blue of the ice vibrant against the austere white landscape.  We'd long lost the sun behind high cloud and had redonned some clothing, but the sky was still mostly clear upriver and we could see bare, ragged peaks exposed to the sky and glowing with the yellow light of winter sun.  It was achingly beautiful.

And so we passed the glacier and headed at an angle for the cabin across and downriver.  This time the crossing was a little more monotonous, but I entertained myself in the end by searching first for our earlier tracks and then for my mother's discarded clothing, both of which proved somewhat difficult to find in the twilight.  We reached the cabin at about 6:45, tired from five hours of nearly continuous skiing, but delighted with the the trip so far.  We ate salmon pasta, salad, and marionberry pie for dinner and wet to bed early.

On to Day 2

Photos enlarge!

Chris and Torsten at the airport in Juneau	Cailey snuggles in the beaver	Taku Glacier cut by Norris Creek
Hut Point across from Taku Glacier--the edge of the ice (Mom's photo)	Looking upriver from the toe of Taku Glacier	The meadows behind the cabin (Mom's photo)
Cottonwood grove behind the cabin	Landed on the river (Mom's photo)	Looking across the river
Chris and Torsten romping with Cailey	Mom and I	Taking off (Hole-in-the-Wall Glacier beyond)
Snow steps from the porch	Mom in front of the cabin	View from the cabin as we head out to ski
Heading out at the edge of the river (Mom's photo)	Where we're headed upriver	Ski plane tracks on the river
Moose tracks head across the river	Slough and otter tracks	Spraints (otter scat)
Otter spraint stations	Heading upriver (Mom's photo)	Wolf, wolverine, and dog tracks
Wolverine tracks cross the river	Wolf tracks	Snow bridge
Mountains behind the cabin	Mom crossing the river	Snowy mountain
Lkoodaseits'k (Giant Mountain)	Hole-in-the-Wall Glacier	Resting on the river (Mom's photo)
Pussy willows	Looking upriver from Sockeye Creek (Mom's photo)	Looking upriver (Mom's photo)
Mom and Cailey in front of Hole-in-the-Wall	Hole-in-the-Wall Glacier	Log on a sandbar

Looking downriver (moose tracks?)

On to Day 2