A friend took me up the inside passage to Haines, 80 miles northwest of Juneau, in his 50-foot launch. Lovely relaxed trip. I go inland tomorrow to Haines Junction, 150 miles away.
August 22
Got a ride with a schoolteacher in his truck. Checked with the Mounties. They plan to fly a helicopter down the Alsek to the British Columbia junction on August 24 to count game and will check on me.
I am carrying one week of full rations and another week of half fare. The food is all dehydrated but common supermarket stuff--breakfast of dry cereal, powdered milk, and instant coffee. Lunch--dry fruit, nuts, and candy. Supper--Lipton's one-pot meals like ham cheddarton and chicken supreme cooked over an open fire in a coffee can.
"As I passed, huge blocks of ice two-thirds the size of a football field would crack free from the wall and drop 20 feet to the river bottom..."
Wish I had company through the canyon; after that I'll be glad I have only myself to take care of. Water is clear up here and not too cold. Weather is bad.
Well, I'm off!
August 22, later
Left the road at 7 P.M., after sending the above notes to my wife. Camped at 8:30 P.M., with a headwind of 40 mph and waves at two feet high. Tent up and flapping. All secure. Boat tied to a tree along with my life jacket. Four big beaver dams. Have seen two of the animals, plus four ducks. In bed by nine.
August 23
Camping in a driving rain. Started fire with four matches and two birthday candles. Cooked beef stroganoff and am sitting in tent eating it now while I dry off. My watch stopped last night so I reset it by the sun. I'll have to guess the time from now on. Today I paddled down the Dezadeash to the Alsek. The current is flowing faster--6 mph. Fished twice with my eight-foot rod. I was hoping for salmon but no strikes--water muddy. One golden eagle, six ducks, a porcupine, and a beaver.
Rain quit during the night. Slept well.
August 24
Good camp, sheltered by an overhanging bank, but since wind and tent are facing upstream, a grizzly coming from the rear will surprise
us both.
Big water today. No stops needed to scout rapids. Stayed in the center but constant maneuvering necessary to avoid rocks and holes. No flips, but my heart pounded once or twice as I passed cliffs with boils and huge hydraulics--violent currents that twist and turn and grab from all directions at once. The water is now icy, and I can't force myself to practice rolling up and thus psychologically prepare myself for the canyon ahead. I feel a flip would present at least a 30 percent chance of a swim, what with the difficulty of rolling in such water. The water is brown, similar in color to the Grand Canyon. I can still read the water confidently since the crests of the waves are white, but the glacier silt adds power to the rapids.
Lowell Glacier, off to the right, is tremendous. It is a mile of bright blue ice wall over 100 feet high and extending out into the Alsek, which undercuts the cliff. As I passed, huge blocks of ice two-thirds the size of a football field would crack free from the wall and drop 20 feet to the river bottom, then tip outward and slap the water with a frightening sonic boom. These were followed by tidal waves that tossed earlier ice blocks (calves) and my fragile kayak sky high. Fortunately, I never was within 200 yards of an ice fall and tried to stay in the open so I could maneuver the waves. An active glacier is an amazing spectacle. And I've got three more ahead!
Became lost in the floating calves but continued on to the end of the iceberg lake, where the river turned abruptly. Must have paddled over 50 miles today so quit early but could have gone all the way to Turn Back Canyon, where the worst rapids begin. Plan to sleep late in the morning and proceed gradually, but if I get to the canyon before 2 P.M. I'll tackle it then; otherwise, will rest until noon the next day. I have been paddling in my full wetsuit, including boots and gloves, but nothing to keep my head warm, only my regular protective helmet. I want to remove my gloves in the gorge, if the icy water is not unbearable, so that I can grip the paddle more firmly. I'm three days ahead of schedule and going strong--very relaxed. My 25 ounces of vodka will see me home with spare. Am less tense being alone. In a kayak I never rely on others to get me out of trouble, so I wear a 33-pound floatation life jacket. Water that can separate me from my boat would be so big no other kayaker could help. He'd be too busy staying up himself.
I have matches and emergency supplies sewn into my life jacket. No sign of the helicopter, perhaps because I have traveled so fast. Saw two golden eagles and a friendly shorebird fatter than a tern--small beak, gray-brown with a banded tail.
