By Janelle Eklund

​Since we were finishing up the work at Bremner sooner than expected we debated on whether to leave today or tomorrow.  The helicopter pilot was coming in to fly us around and finish the surveys from the air.  It was hard to tell what the weather was going to do.  It vacillated between rain and sun all day.
 
The pilot arrived and flew us through the rest of the valley while Mary dictated vegetation surveys to me once again.  We landed in an area dubbed “The Maze” by Anne, the Archaeologist.  This was a unique mining area down the valley from the main mining camp.  These hard core miners handpicked rocks to make their ‘sluice boxes’.  They piled these rocks neatly on top of each other in lines covering a large area truly forming a maze.  It’s amazing what gold fever does to some people.  Mary recorded vegetation in this area and I collected samples of juniper for her.  We ate lunch and decided to leave today since we finished the work and not knowing what the weather would do.  The pilot seemed happy about that - he could get home earlier.  We had the pilot drop us off at the airstrip so we could walk the mile back to camp and finish the last of the surveys.  Along the way we paused at a beautiful spot near the creek.  Short waterfalls cascaded over a rocky bottom and through a lush green meadow.
 
We flew to May Creek in the helicopter and the pilot radioed for us to be picked up by Wrangell Mt. Air and flown to Chitina.  As we swung into the Chitina Valley the story of the weather unfolded before us.  Storm clouds swept across the mountains to the north.  Chatter between aircraft told of lightning and thunder.  The sun still spread its rays over the Chitina and it was very pleasant at May Creek airstrip.  We waited a half hour or so for our flight to Chitina. After taking off we had somewhat of a bumpy ride flying on the edge of the storm which was playing hide and seek with the sun.  The pilot handled it amazingly well.  What could have been a hair raising landing was as smooth as could be.
 
We were a little sad to say goodbye to special places and special times. We have our memories, our journals, and our pictures.  And all we have to do is look out our windows and see into and beyond the peaks that shine before us.  That’s the real gold.

By Janelle Eklund
​
The soft waning light of the late summer night revealed the lone evening star keeping vigil over the mountain peaks.  We woke to a blue sky as a low bank of clouds moved in from the north. The lower they got the more threatening their look, so we stuffed our packs with rain gear. 
 
We headed for the hill south of camp, stopping to explore one of the mine buildings, which turned out to be the generator shed. For being somewhere in the seventy year old range, it was in good condition.  The glass encased gauges were still all in order, unbroken and even looking clean. We talked about it being a interpretive historical place if it was cleaned up. The Bremner mining operation was established in the 1920's.
 
We slowly climbed up the hill, at times following the old water line leading into the generator shed.  We left our packs in the shed since the clouds started to break up again and it looked to be fair weather.  We stopped many times for Mary to record the vegetation mapping.
 
A waterfall gracefully fell over a stepping stone wall.  Nearby, the water line went through a box type structure.  Peaking through cracks in the boards it was hard to determine its history. Nature was re-claiming the inside - vegetation covered what was laid down over seventy years ago.  The top of the hill gave way to a lush green meadow covered in rivulets of water.  From this vantage point the mountains across the valley seemed bigger.  A pretty picture framed our view.
 
By the time we got back down to our packs it was lunch time so we brought our packs back to camp and ate lunch there.  Lunch was dinner left-over's which was very good.   We shed some clothes as the sun was making its debut again.
 
After lunch we donned our light packs and headed up the mountains to the north.  History lays all over the ground here, from bulldozers to old vintage cars, to cans, to electric poles and lines.  It’s amazing how they got this stuff in here.  We followed the old mining road switch backing across a boulder field and ending up at one of the mining sites. The creek was lined with old electric poles, lines and transformers that looked brand new.  At the top there was more debris and a 1920's truck.  Mary took a picture of me sitting in the driver's seat ready to go.
 
After we reached our destination, the nod monster got a hold of me so I lay in the meadow to write this and absorb the heat from the sun. In the peaceful solitude the whistle of the marmot's echo flowed on air waves throughout the valley. Only its haunting call might tell what it must have been like as miners trudged their equipment up steep rocky slopes. The hard work, hardships, and endurance...all for a yellow rock called gold.  Did they make their fortunes? Was it worth it?
 

Mary climbed further up the rocky cirque looking at vegetation.  I went part way up and watched her skirt rocky ledges until they were too vertical to clamber up.  She wound her way down. We had a snack and headed back to camp.  A lovely light rain shower - the see through type - slowly moved through the valley.  It lay a dewy net for the sun to play with.  Glistening rocks sparkled as the shower passed.  Up through the pass the shower exited and in its departure bowed in a thick bright rainbow.  Beyond the misty sheerness mountains graced the skyline.  We reached camp just as the rainbow faded into the mountains.
 
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

It was a beautiful almost clear day.  Just a few puffy fair weather clouds floated against the deep blue sky.  NPS botanist, Mary, picked me up at 8:00am so I could help with volunteering to conduct vegetation mapping of the Bremner historic mining area.  As we were driving to the Chitina airstrip we encountered a moose that jumped out on the road in front of us, bringing our hearts to our throats as we barely missed a crash encounter.
 
At the airstrip we met the Park Service pilot with the NPS Tern. The Tern is like a super cub (pilot and one passenger) but feels a little more roomy.  Mary was on the first run - about a forty five minute flight one way.  While I waited for his return I read the book ‘Candle Tarn’.
 
As we took off we flew over the Copper River and then up the Chitina River and into the mountains south.  We climbed to 5,000 feet flying between rocky mountain peaks where water rushed down through deep narrow canyons.  Part way down some of them stopped for a rest in a little bench forming a crystal blue lake.  Others continued on to feed valley bottoms resting there in marshy lakes and grasslands.  The lakes were calm and reflected the clouds in mosaic patterns.  A variety of vegetation under the surface of one lake made splotches of blues, greens and gold's. 
 
When we landed at the small dirt airstrip the helicopter pilot was there ready to take us up and start the work from the air.  I scarfed down a quick lunch while he gave me a helicopter briefing.  Then we hopped in and did the first vegetation survey through this drainage.  Mary dictated to me and I recorded it.  We flew to the end of the drainage and then up to the top of it.  After we finished the pilot picked up our gear at the airstrip and flew us the mile up to the cabins in the mining area.  After putting up our tents I crawled in and took a little cat nap.  Then we both hiked up to the top of the valley doing vegetation mapping and identifying birds.  The day stayed clear and beautiful and the mountains stood so proud in this serene valley. 
 
We arrived back at camp about 8:00 pm.  The cabin we stored our food in was nice and warmed up from the sun so that’s where we prepared dinner.  As the sun's rays dipped behind the surrounding mountains the air started cooling fast with a brisk wind chilling it even more, but the sky was still clear.  We feasted on veggie burgers and fry bread.  For dessert we had two spoonfuls each of cookie - the no-bake cookies had melted together in one big glob as they had absorbed too many sun rays today.  We got water for breakfast from the nearby creek.
 
We snuggled into our sleeping bags, me wearing my pile clothes to keep the chill of the night at bay in my light summer sleeping bag.
 
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

It stopped raining in the night and we woke up to broken clouds and some sun.  We filled our packs for a day hike and headed back down the Goat Trail. Fifty caribou grazed right by the trail near the lake in the middle of the pass.  As we got closer they moved to the other side of the lake and up the hill.  A group of mountain goats still wandered around the rocky cliffs above.  We hiked about three and a half miles from camp until the trail dropped 1500 feet to the river bed. The trail was pretty distinct once we got through the pass.  It meandered across rocky slopes and crossed small streams that fell from glaciers hanging high overhead, or seeped directly out of the heart of these rugged mountains.  These seeps emerged to give life to mosses of vibrant dark green, lime green, and brilliant rusty red hues.  Directly above us a giant jagged peak loomed - a beautiful rugged beast we gave homage to.
 
The clouds and mountains played their endless games, making rain showers and then wearing themselves out.  They only anointed us with a few splatters as they swept by in transparent sheets.  Crossing one rocky slope we found a rock shelter with four sides right beside the trail.  It would be a welcome reprieve in a heavy wind/rain storm.  A short distance beyond this were a couple of nice sheltered benches where people have most likely camped.  At 11:30 we decided to turn around but not before taking a rest and absorbing the view of the Chitistone Valley.  Chitistone Falls was still 4-5 miles down the valley.  Before reaching it the trail crosses high rocky 80 degree scree  slopes.  Carrying a heavy pack one needs skill and dexterity - and no fear of heights.
 
On the way back we found a nice comfortable place on the tundra between two rocks to sit and have lunch.  It also had a spectacular view of a receding glacier, the Chitistone River and Valley.  We ate most of what we’d been grazing on the last few days.  Back at camp we broke it down and packed our gear for the trip down the 1,000 foot decent.
 
As we started out we met 15 mountain goats.  We may as well have been a ground squirrel because they let us get within thirty feet before they moved off the trail and up the slope.  Of course it is their trail.  We were just visitors.
 
We found our route down the last 500' and zigzagged straight down.  Using our aluminum walking sticks we stepped slowly and surely.  The climb down seemed a lot easier than the climb up. A light transparent rain shower swept across Skolai Valley. The sun danced on droplets creating a brilliant rainbow.  Truly the gold here is what you see, what you experience in all its relentless fury. 
 
Small creeks only one step wide braided across the rock fields before reaching the airstrip.  As I stepped on the edge of what looked like a stable rock the ground went right out from under me and I ended up with my soft pack between me and the jagged rocks, none the worse for the wear.  I must be getting hardened and tougher...tough country makes one tough.  Paul was way ahead of me. I managed to pick myself up and continue - with a little more respect for boulder fields!
 
At the airstrip we finished dinner under a good hard rain shower spit out by the seven sister peaks right above us.  Each of these peaks nestles a glacier.  It reminded us of what rain is all about.
The next day our journey ended as we climbed aboard the small plane to head back to McCarthy. It buzzed over the Goat Trail giving us a different perspective and reverence from the air.  It’s hard to describe the beauty endowed in this strong rough hewn landscape of glaciers, peaks, and braided rivers.
 
From my light to yours-

cBy Janelle Eklund

​All the good weather ran its course.  It rained in the night, then let up.  But by the time we woke at 7:00 it started to rain again in a steady gate.  It was a VERY long day in the tent. After stretching and having breakfast there was nothing to do but wait.  We left our books at the airstrip to save on weight, which was a huge mistake. We watched fresh snow form on top of the mountains before the clouds descended and hid them. The wind is keeping the rain company.
 
It’s tough on the ‘ol back just sitting or laying for hours.  So many different positions are used...sitting with legs out; sitting with legs crossed, laying with head propped on one arm until it feels like it will break off; laying with your hands propped under your head till they go to sleep; just laying and dozing.  After doing that we read the labels on just about everything we have, including clothes - hah!.   Then we read the only book we brought with us - Birds of North America - for the umpteenth time.  Then it was lunch time and we repeated the lunch we had yesterday.  We are breaking all the rules and eating in the tent...being very careful.  At least stuff is easy to cook -  just add hot water and wait - and wait - and wait till it re-hydrates.  Of Course we have plenty of time to wait.  After lunch the rain had died enough for us to venture out.  We walked over to the garbage heaps left there from the 1960's and found a couple of old tent poles to use as walking sticks for balance in climbing down the steep mountain.
 
We decided the weather was good enough to hike down the Goat Trail.  At this point it was just spitting rain.  So we packed one pack with wool sweaters, hats, mittens, water, gorp, maps, notebook, bird book, camera and headed down the trail.  A herd of fifty caribou grazed close to the trail but headed to the other side of Chitistone Lake when they saw us.  We also saw two bands of Dall sheep on the mountain side.  There were 17 in one and 13 in the other.  Six lambs were in the group of 13.  They headed further up the mountain when we went by, scrambling straight up ignoring gravity and steepness.
 
The trail was pretty intermittent and difficult to find.  Although we didn’t need to find it because you can see where you are at all times. The harsh weather keeps trees and brush from growing this high up. The trail would be very distinct and then all of a sudden end.  The back end fuselage of a plane let our imaginations conjure up the story of its demise.  We walked about one and a half miles to the end of the pass. Parts of the trail were mushy wet tundra. Beyond the end of the pass the trail traverses steep mountain slopes with some scree (rocky) fields.
 
On the way back to camp the wind was at our backs.  We came back on the west side of the lake and did some birding along the way.  Had a hard time identifying a couple birds but finally, after looking in the book, decided they were all snow buntings - males, females and chicks. They all look different.  After all that reading you'd think we would have figured it out right away! The greater scoup and common golden eye ducks mingled together on the lake.  There are lots of semi palmated plovers - a small bird with a white head and black mask around its eyes.  We were surprised to see the mew gull way up here - but here it is!  Three ravens played loop-de-loops in the wind.
 
Last night before we went to sleep the glacier right across from camp gave us a show.  We heard a crack and looked over to see a small chunk of ice fall off.  More followed, tumbling down the rocky vertical cliff the glacier hung on to...just a little yawn before sleep.
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

​Last night's nightly journey outside the tent was a wonderful experience.  The sky was clear and the mountains reigned in the Alaskan summer twilight.  Off to the east, over the Russell glacier, a lone star shone bright defying summer light and hinting the clock is ticking toward winter nights.  By the time we got up in the morning the mountains had already been busy creating more clouds.  They were the friendly sort that let the sun shine through.  This country has many moods and the weather can change every few minutes.
 
We had our daily breakfast of oatmeal and packed for the steep climb up to Chitistone Pass.  We were only on the trail a short ways before it petered out.  Then we just took short switchbacks up the first 500'.  The hillside was vegetated with rocky outcrops and about a 70% slope.  Watch your footing, lean into the hill, take slow steps, rest often.  I’m almost certain this was the center of the earth where gravity was born.  Weight always seems heavier going up or down hill - things you carry as well as your body.  Although my body weight must be getting smaller.  I’m on the last notch of my belt - it’s never seen that notch before!  We wore light shirts and sweated as we trudged up the steep slope.  Wild flowers greeted us at every step in all their many hued colors.  Deep pink-purple dwarf fireweed laid a velvety carpet in rocky draws.  Yellow saxifrage, pink bistort, yellow arnica, blue forget-me-nots perfumed the air and made the steep climb pleasant.  Once when we stopped to rest we watched some ground squirrels - a mom and two pups.  The pups seemed to be older.  They were trying to nurse but mom wasn’t too interested.  They’d stretch their little legs on her tummy like they were begging and try to suckle but she’d shoo them away.  One of them decided the begging wasn’t going to work so started feeding on vegetation.  Mom started rolling around with the other one till they tumbled down the other side of their home.
 
The second 500' was much more gradual and a pleasant break.  We found a nice seep and filled our water bottles and tummies.  Nearby was the trail and very distinct. A little further on, just before Chitistone Lake we stopped to eat lunch behind a rock, out of the chill of glacial wind.  Our delightful lunch consisted of beef jerky dipped in almond butter, crackers, cheese, dried fruit, cookies. 
 
We left our packs and found a place off the trail and made camp.  A gourmet dinner of Mediterranean black beans and fusilli mixed with the left over tuna/chicken dinner from the night before delighted our palates.
 
Two hikers from L.A. said they saw a grizzly and two cubs down the trail. As we stood talking with them the sinking sun spotlighted the mountains drawing out their tones and hues.  Castle Mountain showed a mellow mood of soft subdued blues and yellows streaked by its own shadows.  Looking through the binoculars can bring you into another world - up close and personal - with these regal mountains.  White capped peaks that run for thousands of vertical feet gleamed in evening sun.  As I scanned the pass, surrounding slopes, mountains and glaciers with the binoculars I saw many beautiful sights.  A vertical rock wall loomed into view and it wept with the most fine and delicate waterfalls.  At the base of the mountains between the second and third glaciers to the east a band of about thirty caribou grazed and rested.  Beyond them where the trail leaves the pass the sow and two cubs appeared to be bedded down for the night.  Another day of awesome views and incredible weather.
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

​Got up in the night to water the bushes and it was as if there were no mountains - the clouds encased them all.  No rain all night but a few sprinkles after we got up.
 
We hiked to upper Skolai Lake.  The trail was intermittent but it was no problem finding our way.  There are no trees in this high country.  We saw a Wilsons Warbler in its bright yellow suit.  Our route tomorrow or the next day stood across the valley in all its steep glory.  We glassed it many times looking for the trail.  We’d think we’d see it but then not so sure.
 
As we continued we lost the trail almost as fast as we found it.  We traversed the mountain side, and upon reaching a small saddle the trail appeared above us.  We followed it down the hill through some willows yelling “Hey Bear” all the way through the thicket.  This hillside is the balcony view of the Russell Glacier and upper Skolai Lake where mountains rise in great columns behind and around it.  Glaciers hang in every valley and in every cirque, frozen in time yet moving in grunts, groans and water flows.  This country is rugged beyond belief.  The trail brought us down to the bottom near Skolai Creek skirting the foot of the hill.  Here is the birth place of Skolai Creek, born of ice from the Russell Glacier.  It begins its life as many channels, braiding in silty patterns across this gravely plain.  We made our way over to a cabin that stood at the base of the mountains.  Silt was reclaiming its stake on the land here as about a quarter of the cabin was lost to the visages of time.  The door had long been gone and a few boards were missing on the back and front walls.  It had a good tin roof and would be a welcome shelter in any storm.  Recent trash littered the dirt floor.  We proceeded to do some house cleaning.  Paul dug a fire pit and we burned all the trash except four blazo cans, three tin cans, a glass jar and two metal handles.  Paul gathered his carpentry tools - a rock and a Leatherman - and proceeded to repair the holes in the walls.  He did a mighty fine job considering what he had to work with.  It looked pretty spiffy by the time we were done.  After washing up and having lunch we walked over to upper Skolai Lake and admired icebergs that resembled birds with long beaks and table tops on pedestals.  Miles of ice lay ahead of us. 
 
On the way back we stopped at the cabin and put the fire out and buried the ashes.  We followed the intermittent trail back to camp.  On the way we watched a plane land and leave two people.  They camped on the hill across from us, above Skolai airstrip.  We took a much needed dip in the frigid glacial water of Skolai Creek.  It was short but sweet.  It felt good to get the last two days of sweat off our bodies.  After a good taco dinner the skies cleared and the sun came out.  It felt so good we decided it was nice and warm enough to rinse out our hair and stinky shirts.  When you hike every day, sweating, etc., you get pretty rank after a few days.  I was starting to notice a bad odor in the tent last night.  Went for a short walk down the creek to see if we could see the fox, but no activity.  Watched some shore birds and saw the lesser sandpiper.
 
Another beautiful day ending with the sun gleaming off white peaks and casting mellow shadows on mountains creating patchwork hues.  Goodnight to the sun at 10:00pm!
 
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

​​It rained off and on in the night but we woke to a pretty nice day. Broken clouds gave promise to sun later on.  The clouds and mountains weren’t playing so hard with each other today. 
 
Oatmeal for breakfast and then headed up to Frederika Creek at 9:10 am. About a half mile from camp we saw two fox kits rolling around with each other close to their den. The den was a cave like hole carved out from under a large willow. Momma fox sat nearby watching and keeping a wary eye on us. 
 
We crossed a couple dry drainages and then one with enough water that we had to walk up stream to find a place to cross. After rock hopping across and getting back up on the sloping tundra we ran into the trail we were looking for. It led us up the side of the mountains and across drainages high above Skolai Creek. Skolai Creek cut through a very narrow canyon that acted like a chute. Water that seemed so calm all of a sudden was in a frantic hurry rushing into this tiny channel that ended abruptly into nothingness. Great masses of water shot out and dove to the bottom of a cliff where it once again spread out and became calmer.
 
 Sheer giant walls of mountains towered above. Glaciers capped their peaks spilling white and clinging to thousands of vertical feet of rock.  Summer warmth stole a part of the ice turning it into weeping cascades. Droplet after droplet fell to form a creek below.
 
 Ahead, to the west, Nizina Glacier loomed in its giant white ruggedness. Wild flowers dotted the hillside - monkshood, dwarf fireweed, bistort, electric blue forget-me-nots, yellow groundsel, purple geranium, yellow cinquefoil, gentian and many others. 
 
The trail took us down to Frederika Creek drainage. We found an old cabin and had lunch there. It was in sad shape. As we headed back up the trail the sun showered us with its warmth. Stopped a couple times to rest, enjoy the warmth and the view. It doesn’t get any better than this. Our legs and feet felt the ache of the hike by the time we got back to camp - about 12 miles round trip.
 
My homemade dried spaghetti for dinner, which turned out to be pretty tasty. It seems to take a long time to re-hydrate food at this altitude. What a wonderful day.  Wind always seems a little chilly but we can handle it.  We saw a bunch of different birds - fly catcher, scoter ducks, gulls, semi-palmated plover, magpie, white crowned sparrow (juvenile).
 
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

The day started out overcast but the plane that took us from McCarthy to Skolai Pass was undeterred with the encouragement of parting clouds. My journal reads:
 
The clouds are breaking up to the south and the sun is begging to break through - it's just a matter of time. To the north into the mountains and glaciers is a different story. Rain clouds form a sheer curtain partially obscuring row after row of mountain slopes. A brisk cool wind drifts down from this turmoil whispering of relentless storms. Promise is to the south, pushing storms further north. Who will win?
 
The plane took off. We flew between mountain cliffs where glaciers hung between high valleys and waterfalls ran like veins - life blood - off this jagged range. We were dwarfed in this little super cub where the earth seemed to rise higher than we could climb. Giant pinnacles held us at their mercy. Up Chitistone valley groups of sheep grazed on green slopes. We passed peak after peak and each valley between held a glacier in the palm of its hand. The voices of the mountains speak in many tones and change their dress from minute to minute as they create weather that moves and swirls. Misty clouds will shroud a peak hurling its fury in sheets of rain and snow. Blowing itself into oblivion, sun rays dance on new whiteness and glisten on wet earth. Where the Chitistone meets Skolai the terrain drops down into a wide sweeping valley. The plane circled and we landed on a short air strip. A glacier clung to a high mountain peak just above the strip. Next to it stood four rough hewn cliffs that were having a weather party all their own. Dancing clouds were flung about and then the mountains would blow them out.
 
All the mountains seemed to be having a weather contest. Who could make the biggest fury, put it out, and start another. On the other side of the valley Castle Peak stands alone but also plays the weather game. It wins the prize for the most beautiful shroud it created and wrapped itself in.
 
All our gear was carried the short distance to Skolai Creek where we used an inflatable kayak to get to the other side. We set up camp with a million dollar view. That night seven grain casserole was our dinner. The recipe just said add water, but not how much. It kept growing as it cooked - consequently we had lots of left-over's!
 
Caribou or sheep tracks near the water gave a clue to their quenching of thirst. Ptarmigan entertained us, flitting about in the brush. A crystal clear fresh water creek drained its purity into the glacial fed Skolai Creek. We retired early, read, wrote, and surveyed the map for the next day's adventure.
 
From my light to yours-

By Janelle Eklund

We have been so blessed with these beautiful clear days.  I woke at 5:30 and enjoyed laying there awake for another hour stretching and waiting for the sun to make its appearance. It finally beckoned so I sat on the knoll down from the tent and welcomed the morning sun as it rose over the ridge. I breathed deep breaths of beauty and silence until a ground squirrel started chattering at me several feet away.  I continued to sit very still and he eventually stopped chattering. He just watched me as though he was trying to figure out this non-threatening creature so foreign to his home.
 
We broke camp and got everything ready to go for our flight out later in the day. The valley floor was our last area to survey and discover the microcosm of life on wet vegetation. It's the same place we saw the horses a couple days ago. On our way down I smelled forest fire smoke and then saw the haze coming into the valley.
 
We traversed the hillside below camp surveying plants, then dropped down to a wetland and Carl Creek. We found a yellow and a white flower that Mary collected to key out. We greeted many different plants than what we had been visiting with on the rocky slopes above. Water seeped out of the hillside and braided into grassy areas fingering into many rivulets.  We saw five inch fish in the water. Leaping across the rivulets we made our way to Carl Creek - a beautiful place to have lunch. First things first though. We stripped off our sweaty clothes and lay in the cool clear water.  Its icy grip held us only a short time before we leaped out. Mary had forgot her lunch at camp but I had more than enough to share. As we sat in the hot sun we had quite the picnic of almond butter, chutney, beef jerky, carrots, orange, nuts, and trail bars.  We found a new taste sensation with beef jerky and almond butter. 
 
Before leaving we anointed ourselves a couple more times in Carl Creek and then took a group picture of us looking at flowers through the hand lens.  As we walked up the drainage we got real sweaty and hot.  The creek was calling our name again so we stripped and sat in a nice pool. We filled our water bottles at the cold clear spring emerging from the hillside near the creek.
 
Not long after we returned to our gear the helicopter landed to pick us up.  It was a beautiful flight back to Devil Mt. and the Nabesna Road. We couldn’t find the car keys and ended up spending the night at Ellis’.  A makeshift slim jim couldn’t even open the doors. Mary thought she might have dropped them on the ground a few days ago when we arrived. We speculated on a curious Raven taking them - attracted to their shine - or just playing a trick on us? Hah! They are intelligent creatures.
 
Paul and Jim came the next day to rescue us with the spare set of car keys. Our adventure continued down the Nabesna Road. The hot days are melting the glaciers spilling the release of ancient frozen water into the creeks. Swollen waterways flowed across the Nabesna Road. The guys had to hook the car to the truck and pull it through one deep channel.
 
A very fine trip with wonderful company, beautiful days, and awesome scenery.
 
From my light to yours-