My Back Yard: Ke'sugi Ken and Beyond

Ke’sugi Ken and Beyond

“Not all who wander are lost.”- J.R.R. Tolkien

“Wow, look at that,” I thought. We had just topped out on the new Ke’sugi Ken trail and the view was incredible. A few friends from work had joined me for a run and it was glorious. To our west was the expanse of the Alaska Range. Hemmed-in by the Chulitna River, the panorama of mountains before us wore its definitive snowline like a skirt. Denali was hiding in the clouds today and was graciously allowing some of the less prominent peaks a bit of the limelight.

But my attention was drawn to the east where the rolling hills of the southern Ke’sugi Ridge beckoned. Sparse pockets of spruce and willow ran in bands hither and yon. Trees hardy enough to endure life on the ridges and hilltops were stunted and weather beaten. White lichens brightened the highest hilltops and ridges marbling itself with the purples and oranges of other unknown species lower down. It was a classic example of sub-alpine terrain; a hikers dream. I was drawn to this landscape and I marveled at its splendor. “How far is it to the Susitna?” I wondered. “How far can it possibly be?” I had questions.

That week at home I spent time pouring over Google Earth and was astonished to discover that the Susitna River was only five more miles from our furthest point (roughly). Further investigation revealed that the route should be mostly straight forward. The term bushwhacking came to mind as I examined the terrain closest to the river. “It doesn’t look too bad,” I thought as I chuckled to myself. Experience has taught me that some of the most difficult terrain in Alaska looks pretty tame on a map. It didn’t matter, I was committed to this one.

The plan was to hike up and over to the Susitna River, puff up my packraft and float back to Talkeetna in time for a beer at the Fairview! A day trip by anyone’s standards.

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“Can I trouble you guys for a selfie?” Our group gathered as I awkwardly clawed at my phone with an outstretched arm. Karen and Stacy would return back down the trail. They had agreed to drive us to the trail head, hike with us on the Ke'sugi Ken trail then return with my truck as we continued on. I was lucky to be joined by Arthur and Mikko for the rest of the packraft adventure.

Mikko was raised in Puerto Rico, is a resident of Kauai and is a die hard surfer. He was in Talkeetna visiting and somehow Arthur sweet talked him into working for him on a building project.

Last year he surfed 300 days and enjoys partaking in various surfing contests that he almost always wins. “I have wet dreams,” he said. His play-on-words refers to his recurring dreams of surfing. In these dreams he can never quite catch the wave he is looking for; It is always just out of reach. He smiles when he tells me that the dreams always go away when he is back in surfing country and can get out and do his thing.

The hike to the river was nothing less than wonderful. We had a general idea of route but we allowed ourselves to pick and choose our way up and over the ridge. There were several drainages with deep cuts that we had to negotiate but each time we were rewarded with fantastic views. At one rest break I saw a wolverine dart between spruce trees below us. We watched for several minutes hoping to see him again but he was gone.

Artie and Mikko ponder our route to the Su.

The descent to the river was about a thousand vertical feet of mixed terrain. We made our way through a maze of alder patches, grassy meadows and mossy ridges until finally we stumbled out of a patch of alders onto a gravel beach of the mighty Susitna River!

It was 3:15 PM. I produced three beers from my pack and we toasted and carried on as if we had just summited Denali. We took our time inflating our rafts and gearing up for the float home. The wind was gusting down river, we bundled up and pushed off.

The week before when I was scouting this trip from the comforts of my couch with my laptop in hand, I neglected to figure out exactly how many river miles would be involved in the float out. It turns out that it was a bit further than I imagined (18 miles), and since it was late October and the sun sets at 6:02 PM things turned out different than I thought; We ended up floating home in the dark.

So with only a smattering of twilight glowing from the West and a few unknown lights twinkling from town, we floated around the corner joining forces with the Chulitna until we scratched our way ashore near the railroad trestle at 7:30PM.

I dragged my boat up onto the gravel bar and fished my headlamp out of my pack with cold hands. I clicked on my light to discover ice encrusting my boat.

As I reflect on this trip I realize how grateful I am to live in such a wild place. Although I have lived and explored in the Talkeetna area for the last 22 years I realize that I have barely scratched the surface of untouched wilderness in this area. To discover a new patch above treeline so close to home was a treat. Unlike Mikko’s dreams of surfing, I dream of hiking in the high country and when my dreams become reality I experience a deep sense of fulfillment.