2023 Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic: Little Tok to McCarthy

I’ve been sitting on this trip report for a year because I was hoping to find an elegant way to say goodbye to the Classic phase of my life. But the 2024 Classic starts next week, so I’m motivated to crank this out in case it helps any of this year’s participants.

My first summer Wilderness Classic was in 2009, a year after completing my first winter course with John Pekar and Tyler Johnson. I’ve never learned so much, so quickly, as I did on those first Classics, and my greatest motivation for future Classics was to re-visit that dense learning state.

Fifteen years later I started my 16th, and final, Classic (9 summer, 7 winter).

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I didn’t plan to participate in the 2023 route from Little Tok to McCarthy but Sarah and I were chased out of the Alaska Range earlier than expected due to mosquitos and I already had the time off. I already food packed, my legs were strong after hiking 100 miles, and my feet had hardened through a cycle of blisters. If not now, when?

I checked in with John Pekar, still an annual participant, and was disappointed to hear that his team expected to sleep 8 hours total on the 190-mile course. I knew my body would need more sleep to heal each night. It was a relief to be welcomed by Lee Helzer and Alan Rogers, who intended to sleep 6-8 hours a night. Lee and Alan had completed the course in 2022 and were completely dialed regarding the route, pace, and equipment. I just had to keep up.

Day 1

The route starts on a major ATV trail and then transitions to good game trails. Overall, this route had more walking (fewer river miles) and better walking (no brush) than other routes. But more walking was bad for me.

The highlight of the first day was climbing above the vegetation and finding great travel and views in the alpine. I wasn’t looking forward to this section because it felt like an unnecessary add-on to the traditional Nabesna to McCarthy route, but it turned out to be very scenic.

After 33 miles (approx. 2.5 miles/hour including breaks), we camped in a vegetated pocket in the middle of a rock glacier east of Noyes mountain. My feet and knees were tender. I thought, “These courses were so much easier when I was younger.” But then I remembered that anti-inflammatories played a big role in helping me get through those early courses. I hoped that a full night of sleep would provide the recovery I needed.

Day 2

It didn’t. We covered 33 miles on Day 2 and I spend the day, and the rest of the route, managing blisters and knee pain. The blisters were frustrating … I had just hiked 100 miles in the same shoes and thought that meant I’d be in the clear.

I got some relief at Platinum Creek, where we were able to paddle 10 miles of continuous Class II water with significant wood hazards. We found a good strategy that allowed us to float some of the miles that Alan and Lee had portaged in 2022:

Navigating a river with significant wood hazard

The keys were boat spacing and whistles. I went first because I have the most experience reading rivers and quickly getting out of my packraft. I wore a whistle tethered to my PFD lapel so that I could have it in my mouth while paddling. When I saw wood or a blind corner, I blew the whistle and got to shore. Lee and Alan were 10 seconds behind me and 5 seconds apart from each other. The 10-second gap gave them more time to get out of the river after hearing the whistle.

We crossed the Nabesna glacier and walked about four miles up Cooper Creek before setting up camp at a clean water source.

Day 3

29 miles. This one hurt. Hiking up Cooper was straightforward, but all river rock, which was high jarring on my tender feet and joints. I suspect that the padding in my shoes was shot from my hike in the Alaska Range with Sarah right before the Classic.

The highlight was Blue Lake before descending to Notch Creek. Notch involved more walking on river rock and I convinced Lee and Alan to float at the earliest opportunity for the sake of my feet and knees. This meant a lot of dragging on shallow rocks. I didn’t get any holes in my boat but Lee did … thirteen!

During one of the many walking portions in Notch I heard a perplexing blast of air from inside my deck bag. It turned out to by my bear spray, which was in a dry bag with my sunglasses, repair kit, lunch, and inflation bag. I waited until camp to deal with it. I wore the latex gloves from my first aid kit and then used some of Alan’s soap to rinse and clean everything. The bear spray trigger guard clip was missing, so we taped a rock in place to prevent it from firing again. Wearing my glasses the rest of the trip was the worst, and I’m still reminded of the mishap now and then … just the other day I used the multitool from my repair kit and felt my lips burning.

Day 4

We stomped out another 29 miles, all on foot, and mostly on rock until we climbed into the tundra to camp at the Solo Mountain cabin.

In case it hasn’t been clear, I was gritting my teeth through discomfort the entire time. I relied on an Aleve schedule, 8 AM, 4 PM, 12 AM, to keep me moving. Chisana was an east exit option for me on Day 4 and in retrospect I should have bailed there. I stayed on the route due to some mix of pride, not wanting to mess with the logistics, and knowing that the best scenery was around the corner.

Day 5

After a long night in the Solo Mountain cabin, we started a comfortable descent to the White River and Russel Glacier. The spectacular weather and views helped to distract me from my discomfort. Most of Day 5 was spent with a view of Mt. Bona, a 16,550 ft. peak surrounded by rock, ice, and other dormant volcanoes.

The hiking along the old White River riverbed was excellent. There is a landing strip and lodge to the east—this would be a great destination for folks who want good walking with good scenery.

But the good walking hits a dead end at Lime Creek. Some groups crossed Lime Creek where it fans out and flows into the White River, but we took our chances on a more direct route and harder crossing (fewer braids). We spent thirty minutes piecing together a crossing that was only possible because Alan was big enough to break the current for Lee and me.

This was a 24-mile day, all on foot, and with a significantly slower pace once we reached the Russel Glacier. But this section was my favorite.

I mis-lead us up and down Russell Glacier’s ice-cored moraine before we climbed to a terrace pinched between rocky cliffs and a steep moraine apron. We weren’t the only animals to identify this path of least resistance—in addition to the trail-running shoe tread of the faster course participants, the dried mud was a highway of bear and wolf tracks.

I kept us on the terrace longer than I should have, and we encountered progressively deeper incised gullies. We admitted defeat after Lee fell over the lip of a gully and somersaulted before landing on his pack—a much better option than his head. There are a lot of ways for things to go wrong on these courses—a narrow margin between little deal and big deal.

We finally reached Skolai Pass and set up camp.

Day 6

It took more time than I expected for my blisters to heal, but once they did I found a second wind. We had perfect conditions climbing over Chitistone Pass and taking the Goat Trail to the Chitistone River. I had only been on the Goat Trail once before, 10 years prior, and was re-enamored with it. Lee commented that the trail was in better shape than in 2022 and suggested this was because we were on it later in the season … parts of the trail get washed out each winter, and the later you go in the summer, the more folks have reset it.

This section of the route has the most elevation gain and loss, and despite moving with less pain, my lower leg tendons were strained to their limit. Three miles from the river I felt a pop in my shin and hollered ahead for the guys to hold up. Any effort to put weight on my right foot resulted in a sharp burning sensation in the shin. We settled in for a long break and I took more painkiller. Alan’s training with the Border Patrol and Search and Rescue enabled him to brace my ankle with gauze, Leukotape, and Gorilla Tape. Alan and Lee split my pack weight and I limped the final miles to the river.

The Chitistone was flowing high so we were forced to cross the river (inflated the boats) and then walk the shore to Toby Creek. It was our shortest day, 21 miles, but even if I wasn’t slowing the pace, Alan and Lee would have been forced to stop at Toby Creek due to high water. There are two challenging land slides to cross but the travel gets better the farther you go. We met Jay, Peter, Caleb, and his brother at Toby Creek where they were waiting for the water to drop.

Day 7

We monitored the water level and stayed in camp until mid-morning, when it looked more appropriate to paddle. A few rapids were bigger than we wanted, but we were able to manage everything. We covered 32 miles in a few hours.

The ferrule in Alan’s paddle came loose, meaning that the blade would spin in the water. I didn’t think it would work, but they heated tape adhesive and effectively glued the ferrule back in place.

Alan and Lee were so well rested, like they were just out for a day trip, so I suggested that we practice boat control skills. I coached them to build momentum to cross the turbulent mixing water where channels converge, then lean down stream in the faster current, and place a paddle stroke on the downstream side to catch the current and stabilize.

We opted to stay in the water through the Nizina Canyon, which left us with a slightly shorter hike to McCarthy. These were good river miles, big water Class III- rapids.

The End

I don’t know how well I conveyed that this was both a miserable experience and a meaningful one. The weather and scenery were incredible, and any Classic finish feels like a major accomplishment. Much of this route traced my first winter Classic in 2008, and it was wonderful to revisit such an incredible pocket of Alaska.

Soon after returning to Anchorage, I developed tendinopathy in my hip. I suspect that my pain-killer routine numbed me to the point that I didn’t realize I was doing damage. When the hip pain decreased (after six months) I realized it had been masking nerve pain and other issues which I’m still dealing with a year later.

Sarah thinks I messed up by going directly into the Classic after our Alaska Range trip. But I think my body just can’t handle those big walking days anymore. I’m okay with that, it is just hard to say goodbye to a phase of my life that was so incredibly rewarding. But I am. And I’m so so so grateful to have been able to do what I could on the Classics, when I could.

Lee and Alan are heading back to the course next week—wish them luck!

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My daily mileage totals above exceed the course total of “190 miles.” Daily values are from Lee’s Garmin watch and likely include extra distance do to tracking noise during our breaks, etc.