Camp Denali & North Face Lodge

A Welcome Sight

Tue, 01 May 2012 00:26:28 +0000

The ground sheds its layer of snow bit by bit as the mercury continues to climb, degree by ever precious degree. It was a long, dark, and cold winter here in Denali, quiet and beautiful in many ways. But we now look forward to the spring, unfolding around us daily. Jenna Hamm heard the first migratory Junco singing its trill April 13^th, the same day I collected spring pussy willows for the first arrangements of the year. Sarah Bierschwale dropped everything to rush to the window and track a flock of snow geese flying up the Nenana River valley last week. The dynamic tundra around us is slowly filling with its summer cohorts.

In winter Denali’s Park road is left peacefully asleep, snow covered and traffic free. Beginning late March the Park Service’s road crew begins to plow away the snow and use steam to break up the overflow ice. By early May the road is clear enough for biking and hiking to around the Polychrome Bluffs area. Locals love to come to the park this exciting time of year, as bears and arctic ground squirrels begin to emerge from their long winter hibernations and the snow rapidly retreats. True that we’ve yet to see much greenery….piles of snow are still lingering and abundant. The spring pasque flowers, a crocus relative with furry leaves to further insulate the plant from the cold, can now be seen on south facing slopes. The name “pasque” likely derives from the Latin word for Easter, “pascha”.

In only a week our first staff will touch down at the lodges to begin opening them for the season. The skeleton crew will be flying in bush planes to Kantishna, as the park road will likely not be entirely snow free to drive. Our buses and remaining staff will arrive in later May, smiling and excited. Close to 90 percent of our staff this summer are returnees, so expect a lot of those same faces that greeted you in the past!

John Haines, Alaska’s former poet laureate who passed away last year, once noted of this time of year that the “cold world awakes”. It does indeed, with bird songs, warm winds, the pattering of raindrops, and a blush of a purple flower on a hillside. Anticipation for the summer ahead mounts, and my heart swells for to once again see the tiny tundra wildflowers of June as we begin to see the very first traces of summer here in Denali.

Denali in All Seasons

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 23:55:26 +0000

Visit Camp Denali and North Face Lodge in the summer and discover a place of beauty, adventure, and wonder inside the heart of Denali National Park. Visit in winter, as our winter staff recently learned, and discover a landscape offering new perspectives and possibilities. In winter, everything is covered in white, the animals are scattered (or snoozing!), and the people are few. What once was green tundra or rushing water is frozen and covered with snow. Every direction provides an adventure. We spent the week experiencing the seldom-visited season of winter inside Denali.

When we arrived in Kantishna, we encountered more snowfall than typical with drifts of up to five feet in places. Notably, the first task was to access the buildings! Breaking trail in winter is no easy task. It’s a full body workout where in one step you might sink a few inches and the next a few feet. Upon arrival at Camp Denali, we shoveled out a few cabins, outhouses, and trails to set up a comfortable home from which to base out of for the week.

With a fire roaring in the cabin, we headed out to explore. One classic, strenuous summer hike is up Camp Ridge, where (weather permitting) you get a clear view of Mount McKinley and the Alaska Range. In winter, this familiar route provided a new challenge; we spent several hours breaking a trail with snowshoes up the ridge. Upon reaching the top, the views made it all worthwhile. As in summer, the mountain played “peek-a-boo”, shrouded in clouds at times, at others taunting us with glimpses. When it appeared, the effect it had on us was the same: we stood speechless, in awe of “the great one”.

While it seemed as if there wasn’t a single soul for miles, we did have company. The park rangers were out to break trail and patrol with their dog teams. There were also a few people on private tours and winter expeditions. Three of our staff members (Anne, Jan, and Martha) skied to McGonagall Pass overlooking the Muldrow Glacier at 5,600 feet. The trip entailed a three-night journey through the foothills of the Alaska Range. They camped in temperatures dipping to -25ºF at night and ate countless Snickers bars along the way.

Features that provided great traveling were the waterways. The summer swimming and fishing destinations at Moose Creek and Wonder Lake were frozen, ski-able expanses. We also checked on all the buildings to make sure that the winter had not wreaked any havoc. Despite the efforts of a persistent pine marten, the cabins and rooms stayed in tact. For 60 years, winter has tested the cabins at Camp Denali, and each May we return to find an enduring landscape.

The rest of the week was spent sledding, skiing, snowshoeing, building snow forts, reading by the fire, gathering for communal meals, and sharing our stories from the day. By the time the week was over, none of us wanted to leave. We had become familiar with this landscape in a new season with its wind-sculpted snowdrifts, scattered animal tracks, and newly established ski/snowshoe trails. We learned that the cabins still stand in the midst of a harsh winter; that the mountain still evokes marvel; that wildlife as small as a ptarmigan or as big as a moose still roam. No matter the season, Denali is a magical place.

“We can’t tell now what coming seasons will bring, but we can be sure of hard work, fun, friendships, and the knowledge that we are helping appreciative visitors to enjoy the park.” –Camp Denali Founder Ginny Wood, 1954

Spring Break in Denali

Tue, 20 Mar 2012 19:38:47 +0000

Each September, the cabins at Camp Denali are boarded up and shut down for winter. Usually they don't see a soul until May. Not this year. Our small winter staff just returned from a wonderful week experiencing winter in the heart of Denali.

The epic adventure began last Saturday. Our plan, weather permitting, was to fly out to Kantishna on ski planes. Waking up that morning, all that was in sight was blue skies and sunshine. We couldn’t wait for the adventure to begin.

We had been planning for several months. The logistics were similar to what happens each opening in early May at the lodges: a small crew flies out to a stark, snowy landscape and goes about the task of opening the lodges and preparing for habitation. But in March, the conditions are much harsher with snow depths of two to four feet, temperatures dipping down to -20 degrees Fahrenheit, and bitter winds of up to 30 miles per hour. Because of these factors, we would have no plumbing and no power. Our drinking water would come from the spring at North Face Lodge (as long as it wasn't frozen), wash water from melting abundant snow, and cooking would be on a propane stovetop and oven.

One of the biggest challenges was figuring out food and meals for ten people. We were operating on weight restrictions since we had to fly in and out. So our plan was to bring out fresh food (produce, meat, cheese, etc.) and dip into the supply of dry goods that were left behind in the fall at the lodges. One way we ended up lightening the load was to dry food prior to our departure. For weeks in advance we had dehydrators humming away with apples, peppers, bananas, strawberries, onions, and pineapples.

And then there was the gear! We had high hopes of the three sweet S's of winter: skiing, snowshoeing, and sledding. With such cold temperatures, we’d have to cover everything from our nose down to our toes against the severe cold of winter. The cabins we would stay in would be heated exclusively by wood stove. The packing list included lots of warm socks, long underwear, hats, gloves, mittens, a warm coat, sweaters, neck gaiters, toasty sleeping bag, and the occasional hand warmer. We would be ready for anything and everything.

As the plane took off in the morning, packed with all our gear and food, we caught a glimpse of the mountain. So began our winter expedition into one of the most beautiful places in Denali, Alaska, and the world.

Courting Ravens

Thu, 08 Mar 2012 01:43:38 +0000

Last weekend, while traveling up high in a wind-scorched and snow covered alpine valley, two ravens crisscrossed high in the sky, wing to wing, their calls echoed off the exposed vertical rock faces. In a stark, otherwise lonely landscape, the ravens demanded our attention. With our necks craned upwards, the raven in the lead repeatedly initiated a barrel-roll in flight. We were indeed awestruck, but I suspect we were not the subjects this raven was concerned with impressing.

With the sun rushing back to the Northcountry at an astonishing 6 minutes per day, it might seem as if all creatures are reveling in solar cheer. Overhead, ravens have been announcing their presence with greater frequency lately through an incredible diversity of vocalizations and aerobatics. Yet they are not simply paying homage to the sun. It is courtship season for ravens as they pair up, assert dominance of their territory and prepare to nest. And for those of us on the ground, it’s a reminder that spring is on the way.

Ravens are ubiquitous in the north, and although their recognized name may be Common Raven, they are considered by many, including native cultures throughout the world, to be anything but a common bird. Often Raven is referred to in traditional creation stories as the Creator, and sometimes, as in the Haida & Tlingit cultures of the Pacific Northwest, Trickster. This latter reference recognizes the undeniable fact that ravens are perhaps the most intelligent of birds. In fact, their brain is among the largest of any bird species, allowing them the ability to problem solve, manipulate other animals into doing work for them (such as alerting wolves of an animal carcass so the canines can open up the carcass and allow access for the ravens), and deceive onlookers by pretending to cache food. Ravens are highly adaptable and have long been known to climbers on Denali since they have learned the rewards of digging up food caches from the snow along the popular West Buttress route. They have come to recognize bamboo wands in the snow as a potential sign of a cache.

In my mind, this time of year is Raven’s time--a time for us to be awed by their impressive intellect, cleverness and vocalizations, by their aerial acrobatics, to be reminded that although they fly freely, they are as much a part of this wild land as the welcome long sunny days are to the spring.

Make prayers to the Raven

Raven that is,

Raven that was,

Raven that always will be.

Make prayers to the Raven.

Raven, bring us luck.

- From the Koyukon People

Just How Cold Was It?

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 22:24:21 +0000

We’ve passed a milestone here in Denali National Park. Well, three actually: first, this past January was the coldest recorded since 1933. Above you can see a graph of the average air temperature this past month. Note the daily average was -20F. Temps in the -40F range are not uncommon here in Alaska’s Interior, where, like other continental places, we are far from the moderating effect of the ocean. Twice we awoke to mornings where our digital thermometers registered “---“ because they only record down to -40F. We bottomed out at -52F.

At those extremes, everything seems to go wrong. I left my cabin for a week and came home to find the heater had cut out and everything, from the fire extinguishers to the cabbage in the fridge, was a solid block of ice. Cars, for the first few miles you drive them, have tires with one square side where they have settled and frozen. “Thuda-thuda-thunda” goes the vehicle merrily down the road. Luckily our lodges have been winterized to protect against such limits of the mercury. Every autumn our closing crew undertakes the project of flushing the water lines with quantities of antifreeze and boarding up the windows among other winterization projects.

A second milestone: Alaska has had record snowfall this winter. While the rest of the western US suffers a drought, Alaskans were literally calling in the National Guard for emergency relief. Southeastern Alaska towns, like Valdez and Cordova, received as much as 18 feet of snow within a few weeks this past January. Roofs collapsed. A desperate national call for shovels was issued. Here in Denali we have an honest two feet on the level. While note record-breaking, it’s a really “good snow” year by local standards. Despite the wintery conditions, summer feels close at hand.

As a third milestone, we’re now gaining 7 minutes of light a day, making for almost an hour more sunlight each week! We have over three hours more sunlight now than we did on the winter solstice (December 21^st). The sun still sets and rises to the south, but it’s height and arc reach higher and broader each day.

It has been a walloping winter here in Alaska--unprecedented snow and cold, and, as always, darkness. Here at our winter office at the eastern edge of the park, we anticipate in earnest the long warm days ahead and a return to our summer homes at Camp Denali and North Face Lodge.

Serene Simplicity

Mon, 02 Jan 2012 18:42:23 +0000

“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex, but it takes a touch of genius and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.” –Albert Einstein

This year Camp Denali celebrates our 60^th anniversary. For over half a century we’ve embraced a sense of place on our wide spot on the tundra. A travel writer recently commented on how the fact that we are “unplugged” is a great hook. It’s more than that, it’s a entire way of being. No cell phone service and no internet often make people pause before booking here, but after only a day away from the madness, most have settled, calmed, and more than just relaxing into the new rhythm, they embrace it. We’ve updated our cabins over the years to make them more comfortable (gone are the days of our guests sleeping in wall tents!), but each still sports hand sewn quilts on the beds and a water spigot outside. Einstein was ahead of his time when he spoke the words above …today’s’ world of constant, unrelenting media and fast paced gadgets are enough to make anyone’s head spin. Not only should we put them down occasionally, we need to.

We’ve always worked toward giving our guests a chance to experience Denali on more than a superficial level, to foster an understanding of the history, both natural and cultural, of this incredible region. Reading back through a Tundra Telegram (Camp Denali newsletter) from 1960, I came across this:

“When we decided to cut our station wagon trips from three a week to only two, thus lengthening the stay at Camp to a minimum of three nights, we were warned by travel agents that this would cut down our “potential” as most tourists didn’t have time for that long a visit at any one spot in Alaska. But we took the gamble. We weren’t seeking “tourists” anyway. We wanted vacationists looking for an experience in depth. And that, in the main, are the kind who found their way to Camp.”

A Lesson in Alaska Winters, Part 2: The Darkness

Thu, 22 Dec 2011 00:53:34 +0000

Today is winter solstice, the first “official” day of winter. It’s a time for a celebration as the darkest days of winter are now almost behind us. More light is on the way! Today sunrise was at 10:45 am and sunset at 3:20 pm. The sun peaks over the mountains for only a couple hours of direct sunlight and then hides again.

Prior to the start of winter, I was most afraid of the lack of sunlight. I was preparing myself for difficulty adjusting to the darkness. But it's amazing how much a body can adapt to change. I have learned to accept it and enjoy the precious light that is received. At lunch yesterday I sat by the window, soaking up the little bit of sunshine that hit my cheek. There is a slant of light in winter that illuminates the mountains in alpenglow. Sunset and sunrise last for hours instead of minutes. While the light may not shine for long in winter, the little that does warms the soul.

Daylight may open our eyes to the beauty of the earth, but the darkness opens our eyes to the beauty of the universe: the stars, the moon, the planets, and the aurora borealis. Nothing makes me feel smaller than looking at the vast expanse of space. It's a big universe out there, and we are only a small part of it.

Alaska is a land of extremes. In six months, we will cross over to the summer solstice, basking in nearly 24 hours of light. The midnight sun will illuminate the abundant life that thrives in the short intense summer season. I look forward to witnessing that transition.

This holiday season, may you enjoy the light in the world and in each other.

A Touch of Poetry

Sat, 10 Dec 2011 00:33:36 +0000

This poem was sent to us by Marlene Ruthen. Her grandson, Neil Garret Ruthen, wrote it recently reflecting on his stay at North Face Lodge two years ago, when he was twelve.

We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Denali
Awakening at the first light of dawn,
breathless with delight
I stare through the window,
with unbelieving eyes,
for through unveiling curtain of clouds,
natures most treasured jewel
stands for all to see,

I scramble outside,
feeling the
excitement build in my soul
for here I found indescribable beauty,

A gigantic, majestic
behemoth of rock
two towering sky scrapers of shining ice,
gleam with the pinkish glow of early morning light.

I gasp and
take in a breath,
a breath of the crisp spice of conifers,
that warms my body.

I smile at the landscape,
for sharing the secret of natures beauty.

A Lesson in Alaska Winters, Part 1

Fri, 11 Nov 2011 17:32:40 +0000

When it comes to winters in Alaska, I have a steep learning curve ahead of me. As a new staff member at Camp Denali and North Face Lodge this summer, I have experienced the glory of summer, but have yet to experience winter. All I knew of winters in Alaska is that they could be long, cold, and dark. So when I was lucky enough to join the hearty year round staff of six at Camp Denali this fall, I knew I’d have to learn quickly and prepare for the big change.

The last couple months, I have been moving my car and personal items up from the "Lower 48," and preparing for the challenges and rewards of winter. Equipping myself with warm clothes, blankets, a winter ready car, and a lot of hobbies to keep me occupied. I do have one thing on my side: I already know the cold and dark. I have experienced similar (although not as harsh) winters in both Montana and Minnesota, so it shouldn't be a complete shock to the system.

While the initial thought of winter can be intimidating, dig a little deeper and you will discover the beauty of winter: the sunsets, the aurora, the snow, the adventures, and the silence. After the busy summer and fall I think I am now ready for the quiet of winter.

Recently, the daylight has been dwindling rapidly and the temperatures have been dropping. Last night I walked home from work in a chilly and dark -8 Degrees F, the waxing moon was lighting up the snow on the ground, making it a magical moonlit winter walk. Painter Rockwell Kent has said of winter in Alaska, it a time when “Nothing really happens-but in the quietness the soul expands.” I can't imagine a better place to seek the silence and solitude of winter than at the doorstep of Denali.

Reflections on Summer...and Winter

Thu, 20 Oct 2011 16:32:47 +0000

Alaska is sometimes said to have two seasons…pick your favorite vocabulary words of the following for those two; the green and the white time, the light and the dark, summer and winter. Though we would disagree with this (who among you has seen Dryas flowers poking their heads though springtime snow or Denali’s vibrant, albeit brief, autumnal colors?), I can understand the sentiment. Spring comes late and summer ends early. Our leaves were gone by mid-September, and today a fluffy 4” of snow lies on the ground as the sun peeks its head off to the southwest at noon. Four year old Danika Hamm, Simon and Jenna’s precocious daughter, commented last winter how she saw the sun rising in a particular direction from their house, so that “That way must be East!.” I believe it must have broke Jenna’s heart to have to explain to her brilliant child that here, at 63° N latitude, the sun actually rises in the south and sets in the south in mid-winter.

Although it’s not yet the heart of winter, today I went for a walk in the snow. I enjoyed seeing the Labrador tea covered in its white blanket, and already felt nostalgic for the first June day I laid down with my hiking group out at Camp Denali and North Face Lodge and smelt its fragrance; a mixture of lemon and bergamot, in my olfactory world. The blueberries which filled my morning smoothie were hand picked in July and August on the tundra benches around Camp Denali, making me already wistful of days where I could pick for hours into the late northern summer evenings, filled with so much light. We’ve boarded up the lodges for the season, buttoning them up to protect against winters elements and any curious critters who may be about. But as I sit here contemplating the snow, and if I should already start cleaning up my skis for winter, I do feel the pull of summer and Camp Denali, with its midnight sun, bounding caribou, boundless hiking, flowers, birds, and berries, tugging at my heart.