Denali Denial
It was the second of eight days I spent in Alaska in late August, the weather a challenge every day. At mid-morning I pulled my rental Jeep into a dirt parking area near Byers Lake, in Denali State Park. It was misting.
Byers Lake is a pristine, 325-acre lake with nothing on its densely wooded, four miles of shoreline but a tiny cabin and a small dirt launching area for canoes and kayaks. Rented a kayak from a vendor in the parking area and paddled off.
The mist stopped, but heavy cloud cover remained. Byers Lake is one of the better spots to see the biggest mountain in North America, known simply as Denali, the tall one. I was headed north from Anchorage on my way to Denali National Park - and I would pass many vantage points to see this grand mountain. But to see it with a lake in the foreground would make an especially fine photo.
I was forewarned, however, that in summer Denali is often obscured by clouds, sometimes for days.
I worked my way around the lake to the far shore and turned the boat to face the Alaska Range - and Denali. There were mountains aplenty, but Denali? Where I expected it to be, behind mountains in the foreground, was what might have been Denali, part of it, the bottom, most of the top obscured. Even then I wasn’t certain it was Denali at all.
On the right day, I knew from the photos everyone has seen, Denali looms majestically over everything else. I had a nice enough view of lake and mountains, but, as far as Denali, I was majesty-free.
The lake itself, however, was spectacular, with water as clear as the finest gin aspires to be. As I paddled on along the far shore I saw clusters of sockeye salmon, spooked by my boat and, with the flick of a tail, disappearing. Approaching the north end of the lake, where Byers Creek enters the lake, the sockeye were even more abundant. They were entering the stream to spawn.
Paddling up the stream - slowly, on high alert for black bears or grizzlies - I encountered many dozen salmon at close range, literally within a foot of my kayak, sometimes bumping into the sides or bottom of the boat. There was no mistaking them; when spawning, their bodies are bright red with a green head and hooked jaws. They looked to be 5 or 6 pounds and 24 inches or so long.
For me, it was another great moment in nature, witnessing spawning salmon at less than arm length. As I paddled upstream I came upon the carcasses of salmon that had spawned and, exhausted, died, settling on the bottom, as they do once they spawn.
But, not wanting to push my luck encountering a bear fishing for salmon, I turned the boat downstream after perhaps ascending 100 yards.
The next day, headed north, I stopped at two other well-known vantage points in hopes of a good look at Denali. Easily three dozen people were stopped at one of the vantage points, binoculars and cameras trained on the mountains. The Alaska Range was socked in by fog and rain again. I scanned the horizon as a light rain fell. Again, might have seen a piece of Denali, or not. Probably not.
I talked with some of the other tourists. People can spend a week near Denali without ever seeing it, one of them said.
The next day, I hopped a shuttle bus in Denali National Park and Preserve and took it to the trailhead for hikes in the Savage River area. Hiking alone, which is discouraged, I sought trails where I likely would be among other hikers, for bear safety.
Walked the Savage River loop of 2 miles. The Savage is a beautiful, wild river, parts of it flowing through open tundra of low vegetation. After, I took a shuttle to the nearby Mountain Vista Trail and walked again to the Savage River, upriver of the trail I hiked earlier.
No Denali. But I reminded myself I still had several more days. Ran into other hikers and we took photos of each other. Even without Denali, the mountains and the river and the heavy clouds made for nice photos.
Saw trumpeter swans, glaucous-winged gulls, eagles, loons, black-billed magpies, and gray jays while hiking. Crossed and recrossed the powerful Nenana River and numerous streams that feed it, including Riley Creek, one of those so-appealing streams with a bottom of sand and colorful rock that flows through the national park. Stopped often as I hiked to identify wildflowers and wildlife. A buck moose that had to weigh well over 1,000 pounds, with an enormous antler rack, foraged one afternoon. Arctic squirrels. Red squirrels. Caribou. Carried bear spray just in case, but never needed it, never saw one.
On what proved to be the last day with at least so-so weather - that is, occasional rain or mist and heavy clouds - I planned to hike a trail through forest to several lakes. But before I left my cabin, the sun came out. There were still plenty of clouds around, but there were brief periods of sunshine. Changed plans, drove to the national park, hopped on a shuttle bus and 90 minutes later stepped onto the Mountain Vista Trail again.
By now the sun had disappeared. I studied the Alaska Range, what I could see of it. Again, perhaps I was seeing a vague smidgeon of Denali, but more likely that was wishful thinking. Spent an hour birding.
On a shuttle on the way back, one of the hikers aboard said he heard that park-goers on a morning shuttle had gotten a brief, decent view of Denali. I was pretty sure that was the shuttle that pulled away as I arrived at the park, forcing me to wait a half hour for the next one.
The next three days were rainy, dreary, chilly.
My last morning the Susitna River was at flood stage, just overspilling the riverbank vegetation outside the lodge in Talkeetna where I was staying. I spread out an improvised yoga mat - a bath towel - in front of the large window in my room with a terrific view of the river and surrounding forest.
It was raining of course. Listening to a Beethoven piano sonata on my AirPods I quietly, gently went through 45 minutes of poses. I aligned myself in mountain pose - an unconscious nod to Denali perhaps - and went into tree pose, mimicking the spruces that largely made up the forest across the river.
After eight days, despite not ever getting a real look at Denali, I was nonetheless at one with the Alaskan rivers, lakes and mountains. My rain jacket and I had experienced a lot.
Got dressed, donned my rain jacket, and headed home. Disappointed? Sure. It obviously would have been great to see the snow-capped grand eminence against a blue sky. It was one of the reasons I came to Alaska after all.
Did I enjoy the trip nonetheless? Of course I did. Exploring unfamiliar forests, mountains and rivers - new wild scenery, new habitats - is always deeply soul-satisfying.
A view of Byers Lake and the Alaska Range from a kayak on an overcast day with mist. Was that a fragment of Denali in the background right of center? Click to enlarge.
Migrating sockeye salmon headed up Byers Creek to spawn in Denali State Park, just north of Talkeetna, Alaska. The state park is just south of the national park. Click to enlarge.
Shrubby cinquefoil, common in the western U. S., in Denali National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Click to enlarge.
Riley Creek is one of many scenic streams pouring through Denali National Park and Preserve in Alaska. Click to enlarge.
An Arctic Ground Squirrel with a mouthful of food in Denali National Park and Preserve, Alaska. They eat sedges, plant stems and other vegetation. Click to enlarge.
Brian Taylor, an interpretive ranger with the National Park Service, led a 2-mile hike in Denali National Park and Preserve one morning, highlighting the history, flora and fauna of the park for about 30 hikers attending. Riley Creek in the background. The park service offers many guided hikes and the Visitor Center has extensive information on geology, history, plants and animals. Click to enlarge.
The black-billed magpie, shown here near the Savage River in Denali National Park, is widespread throughout the west. Click to enlarge.
The Savage River Loop Trail in Denali National Park, Alaska, is a popular destination for hikers. The trail passes through tundra following one side of the river, crossing a bridge, and coming back on the other side of the river. Mountain and river views the entire way. Click to enlarge.
Even on a day with some sunshine, the Alaska Range and Denali, shown here from one of the highway vantage points between Anchorage and Fairbanks, were muted by clouds. Click to enlarge.
The Susitna River was at flood stage with faint rain falling my last morning in the Denali area. With this view from my lodge window I did a slow, gentle yoga practice that included mountain and tree poses. Even if I did not see Denali in all its grandeur, I realized I had had a special time in its presence, if unseen. Click to enlarge.