Chapter 7

Into the Crater

After a few hours of sleep the dropping temperature and chilling discomfort of having cold wet feet wake me up.  Ben still lies motionless.  The only sound is that of a nearby stream of melting glacial ice packed in the crater at the summit of Bear Mountain.  I wriggle out through the opening from underneath the tarp.  The crisp cold air bites the exposed areas of my face.  It is nearly completely dark except for the dim illumination provided from the celestial bodies light years away.  The silhouettes of the majestic peaks of the rugged mountain range that surrounds us are vaguely visible as I focus my gaze upward at the eternal dark heavenly expanse of sky that envelopes our tiny planet.  It is humbling to think how small each one of us is in this great universe.  Thousands upon thousands of stars burn intensely in our Milky Way Galaxy like the lights of a great city in the heavens.  The clarity and visibility on this night is astounding.  I lie with my face emerged from the protection of the tarp gazing up at the stars and pondering the incredible miracle of creation as I thank God for this most wonderful and blessed moment to be nestled near the top of this mountain in such a wondrous land, immersed in His nature and challenged by the natural elements as well as our own physical limitations.  I am once again humbled as I realize the great respect we all should have of nature.  Here we lie vulnerable to many possible natural occurrences that could and still may occur.  Whether it be bears, stormy cold weather, physical exhaustion or injury, anything could happen during this backpacking adventure.  Our only true hope is our faith in God.

I manage a couple more hours of light rest and emerge from under our plastic tarp as refracted light from the morning sun begins to overcome the darkness of the night.  Ben remains fast asleep as I hurry to capture photographs of the scenery in this most beautiful hour of light.  The mountains take on a bluish hue while the golden shades of yellow-petaled flowers almost seem to glow in patches on the less rocky hillsides.  Small pools of water reflect the orange-tinted clouds as they drift across the deep blue sky above.  My visual senses are overly stimulated as I find it impossible to capture the true essence of one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen.

Beautiful morning light warms the sky

Eventually Ben wakes up from a rather restful night.  Warm and cozy in his sleeping bag he didn’t suffer the crippling cold like I did.  As the sun begins to rise above the horizon the blue hues on the mountainsides are exchanged for deep orange glows.  The long early morning shadows cast by the mountain peaks slowly shrink in length as puffy cumulous clouds drift by a short distance above us.

View west over Silver Bay

Ben sleeps in on Bear Mountain

In the light of the new day we can now fully appreciate the location of our camping spot.  A dense network of low-growing ground cover and grasses covers the gently rounded hill we are on.  We have a spectacular view west of Silver Bay including the plant we were working at as well as Sitka Sound and a piece of the town of Sitka.  Just beyond that we can clearly see Mount Edgecumbe at the edge of the vast Pacific Ocean.  In every other direction an endless sea of mountain peaks stretch as far as the eye can see.  Just to the south of our camp the hill becomes rocky and slopes down to a stream before continuing up into the snow-filled crater of  Bear Mountain.  We scramble down the rocky slope to rehydrate with the freshest chilled glacial water I have ever drank.  We then wander up the next hill across the stream and find a carpet of a variety of small plants growing vigorously in the shallow soil and upon closer inspection find small tasty bog blueberries ripe for picking.  Both Ben and I drop to our knees and crawl along the top of the hill picking the tiny nutritious berries and immediately eating them as we go.

Ben samples the incredibly fresh and delicious glacial water provided free courtesy of Bear Mountain

Barren terrain near top of Bear Mountain

After nearly half an hour of foraging on the hill we return to our campsite for a snack of trail mix and chocolate.  It is almost mid-day and Ben decides to take a nap under the warmth of the sun.  I, in much need of sleep, would rather continue foraging for more berries.  I lay out my wet socks in the sun to dry and walk down the hill the same way we came up the day before and relocate the area where I first found the various species of alpine berries.  For about two hours I crawl around collecting and eating a good amount of blueberries, crowberries, and bright red bunchberries as well as taking photographs of the best looking plants.  I half fill a small plastic bag with an assortment of the wild fruit to give to Ben and then return up the hill to the campsite to find him barely waking up from his nap.

“Only a fool would starve in Alaska!” Foraging for food can be done literally everywhere. Blue Lake in background.

Delicious and nutritious bog blueberries blanket the ground

Ben snacking on berries following his nap under the sun

Despite the sunshine, at this time of the year and at this elevation the temperature is cool and we are both still wearing our jackets.  My socks feel just as wet as before I put them out in the sun.  After a brief snack we pack up our makeshift camp and target a direction up a rocky slope to the eastern ridge of Bear Mountain.  Our plan is to then go down the southern slope and find a place to camp before making our final decent tomorrow.

Ben leads the way to the top

Distances are deceiving in the mountains.  A landmark that appears to be a quarter mile away is actually nearly a mile away.  An uphill slope that appears to be not that difficult turns out to be far steeper than previously thought.  Lethargically I concentrate on taking one step at a time as I straggle behind Ben.  I feel so weak.  Is it my age?  Is it due to seven weeks of poor quality food?  Did the one-hundred-hour work weeks take everything out of me?  I think it is a combination of all of this.  As we age our bodies become less and less resilient to abuse.  Therefore it becomes more and more important to take good care of ourselves.

A blanket of frozen snow covers the inside of the crater which we estimate to have a depth between three and six feet.  It’s difficult to determine how safe it is to walk on because tunnels form underneath from the melting ice forming small streams that run below.  We don’t want to step on a thin area and plunge through possibly suffering an injury.  As we carefully take our first steps on the ice it quickly becomes clear that the greater danger is slipping and falling.  It appears to be soft snow but is actually quite slick on the surface.  Our rubber-soled boots do nothing  to provide proper traction so we stomp hard with each step to break through the shallow frozen surface and feel the cushion of slightly softer ice an inch below.

Crossing the ice

We are rewarded with incredible views to the east

Once across the ice field all that is left is a steep rocky climb to the top of the ridge.  We follow the footprints left by of a four-legged animal and then finally reaching the summit we stand between two pillars that provide a window to the east giving us a spectacular view of a valley far below us and endless snow-covered mountain peaks that stretch beyond the horizon.  The edge of the cliff we are standing on drops almost straight down several hundred feet sloping steeply down to the valley.  A brisk wind blows in a shifting pattern as the air flows around and over the peak.  Soon the magnificent view is obscured by a grey cloud that quickly rises from the valley below us and half of Bear Mountain becomes enveloped in this cloud.  It is now mid-afternoon so we decide to scout a path to the southern ridge of the mountain where we think we will find a gentler slope to climb down.  The ridge of the crater is very narrow and rugged.  The outer edge of it is a straight cliff down and therefore too dangerous to attempt so we return across the ice field to a rocky outcropping free of snow that lies near the center of the crater.  From here we can see a deep glacial pool that opens up in the middle of the snow-filled crater with iridescent almost glowing aqua-blue water.  I climb down for a closer look.  It is deep, very deep.  There must be a source of heat below that keeps it from completely freezing over.

Ben crossing the ice towards the center of the crater as we head to the south side of Bear Mountain

Beautiful glacial pool in bottom of crater on Bear Mountain

Never a shortage of water

Ben and I veer off in different directions.  He thinks he found an easier path and so do I.  Ben, it turns out, was the wiser one.  I end up stuck on a ledge and unable to climb up because of the slick rocks and continuous water seeping through and over the rocks.  Ben climbs down to the ledge above me to execute a rescue.  I safely hand my gear up to him and then he offers me a hand to pull me up.  What a great comrade!  And off we continue across the rocks to another stretch of ice.  Here the ice is steeper.  The danger is slipping and sliding down the icy slope and into the rocks that lie about one-hundred feet below, or worse, slipping early on and sliding between the rocks and into a deep rocky crevasse where water flows.  We quickly formulate an idea.  We will carefully, very carefully, make our way across the ice a certain distance and then do a controlled slide down the ice to the rocks.  From there we will make our way along the rocks and then up the final stretch of ice to the top of the ridge.  The plan works perfectly.  Ben goes first and carefully using both feet and hands gets a safe distance across the ice then sits down and slides safely to the rocks below.  I do the same and have a thrilling ride using the legs of my tripod to steer and do a controlled stop at the edge of the rocks.  With icy wet rear ends and a bit colder than before we continue along the rocks and up across more icy snow and then a steep climb up the rocky slope to the top of the southern ridge of Bear Mountain.

The top of Bear Mountain

Crisp wind blows over our faces as clouds race across the sky.  In the light of the setting sun as we are perched on the southern ridge Ben and I discuss our options for camping this night.  Ben suggests that we climb down the southern slope to an area still above the tree line that appears to be a fairly flat small meadow.  After considering less appealing options I also agree that to be our best choice.  As we suspected, the south side slope is not nearly as steep as the drop on the eastern side however there is plenty of loose rock that must be carefully negotiated to avoid sliding and potentially injuring ourselves.  With care we make it down to the gently sloping meadow a few hundred feet below.  The wind is calmer at this location.  As the sunlight fades the lights of Sitka can be seen below to the northwest.  We have a spectacular view of Silver Bay from here.  Quickly we make our camp on a flat piece of grassy earth and weigh down three sides of the tarp with rocks before slipping in for the night.  Once again Ben is warm and cozy and quickly drifts off to sleep while I shiver and struggle to get even moments of intermittent sleep.  Suddenly, after finally dozing off I am awakened by the sound of rocks sliding.  In an instant I am fully awake and alert.  Clunk.  I hear another small boulder roll.  The sound seems to be coming from the nearby rocky slope we climbed down from the ridge.  Then I am even more startled by the deep grumbling growl of a beast.  “A bear!” I exclaim waking up Ben.

“What?” Ben mumbles as he slips out of his deep slumber.

Ben pulls his head out from the sleeping bag and hears it too, a few deep but soft growls of a large beast as it climbs on the rocky slope nearby.  “God, I hope it doesn’t come here”, I whisper.

Quickly the sound of the bear is replaced by wind and rain as a storm engulfs the mountain.  The surface of the tarp whips around in the steady wind from the west as rainwater trickles into our simple tent.  I struggle to reposition the upper half of the tarp so that the water will run off it into the ground but to no avail, water still trickles in.  With the wind and rain it will be impossible for me to sleep.  I check the time – ten-thirty-eight.  It’s going to be a long night.

…continue on to Chapter 8