A lifelong dream
Alaska's rugged dimensions and breathtaking scenery have long fascinated me. Spending an entire summer flying in Alaska has always been on my "bucket list," yet it was an ephemeral wish — a fleeting thought often quashed by the complexities of life.
Last December a wonderful email arrived — a friend of a friend referred me to Wrangell Mountain Air (WMA), which operates out of McCarthy (SE Alaska). They were looking for commercial pilots, especially ones with Alaska experience. McCarthy is a familiar destination, as I've flown to a host of backcountry strips in the nearby area on many past vacations.
The view to the north shortly after taking off from McCarthy.
Being retired after selling my software business, this was truly the key to actualizing my long-held dream — an opportunity which I readily seized. Thankfully, my wife graciously recognized the importance of this fortuitous event in my life, and encouraged me to "just do it!"
The dream of Alaska is often punctuated by the fearsome, monolithic beauty of nature. Early season snow blankets this sawtooth near the backside of the Castle Peak area.
Depending on the ever-variable weather and winds, the trip to southeast Alaska from Denver in my Super Cub is easily four 10+ hour days. We were flexible; my good friend/travelling companion and I took 7 days.
Overall, weather was a study in extreme contrasts. Leaving Denver, we flew through snow showers and murderous 50+ MPH headwinds. I set a new record low groundspeed at one point of 27 MPH! That very same day it was 74˚F in McCarthy!
We had hoped for the Trench route but weather dictated otherwise.
The trip to Alaska showing fuel and overnight stops.
Home base for the summer – McCarthy, Alaska
Literally at the end of the road, and like many Alaskan places, quite primitive, McCarthy is awakening as more tourists discover its scenic and historical attractions.
Wrangell Mountain Air operates C-172, C-185, C-206, and DHC-2 Beaver aircraft, all on wheels. Operations are a mix of scheduled routes, charter flights, and sightseeing, as well as remote backcountry support for hikers. There are numerous — not on charts — remote strips within striking distance, mostly in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. In Alaska, aircraft can legally land in the National Parks, unlike in the Lower 48.
The town of McCarthy, Alaska.
A group of us — 6 new company pilots — met in McCarthy in May for our initial FAR Part 135 training. Ten days of regs, company ops, aircraft procedures, basic medical first aid and CPR, HAZMAT rules, basic wilderness survival— and the requisite visit by the regional FAA rep. For most, this was their first introduction to the region. Interesting side note: Part 135 allows VFR flight down to 2 miles visibility and a 500' ceiling!
One of the more interesting emergency procedures we practiced was an abort due to moose or bear on the runway. No joke — at least three times during the summer I had to abort due to wildlife on the runway. Both moose and bear were regularly seen on the ramp as we fueled, waited for passengers, or while taxiing!
Moose on the ramp!
The history of the area, from early native Americans to today's tourist driven expansion gave us a legacy context to frame landmark descriptions during our flights. The development of one of the world's richest copper mines — some ore being 80% pure copper! — brought the railroad and today's "road" to this otherwise largely inaccessible region.
Today the long-abandoned Kennicott processing mill and related buildings are being restored by the National Park Service. The 16-story primary ore refinement structure is actually the largest all-wood building on Earth!
Kennicott copper ore processing buildings
Perched 2,500' up the side of a cliff, the defunct Erie copper mine bunkhouse and main shaft were a daily tourist sight-seeing fly-by. Bonanza Ridge, above McCarthy, boasts 85 miles of tunnels that miners used to extract unusually rich copper between 1907 and 1938.
Erie copper mine bunkhouse
On the job
By far the greatest aspect of the entire summer was meeting wonderful people. Seasonal staff in McCarthy and tourists add up to perhaps 500 people total in the area on any given summer day, yet perhaps only 25 people winter over. Our company crewhouse provided a forum for the occasional group dinner and inevitable tall tale competition. Accommodations for pilots and staff are a collection of private cabins, and a common area with kitchen, dining, food storage, and shower.
Everyone thinks of fresh fish — salmon, halibut, crab, etc — when they envision Alaska. But due to the massive amounts of glacial silt in the rivers and streams near McCarthy, there aren't any fish! Once in a while however, we'd have a charter flight to Valdez or other town where we could bring back fish — enough to share with the entire crew of course!
Meeting great people
Everyday, all around us, we experienced breathtaking, absolutely stunning scenery. Local views and fauna experienced along the path to "work" often left us speechless.
Along our short walk to "work" Photo: Mary Ellen Scherl
Flightseeing provided pilots and passengers with life-defining moments. There were many days I had to pinch myself to remind me that I was getting paid to see these otherworldly sights!
Nature's grandeur all around McCarthy: Frederika Glacier
Looking for wildlife while flying was a top priority for us. A couple of the pilots reported seeing bears — a very rare event. Far more common, almost every day in fact, we'd see groups of Dall Sheep in high alpine settings. We respected the animals — always staying distant and not circling. Hence the sheep were usually "white dots." Still super cool to see them!
Dall Sheep (lower center) below Nikolai Pass
Subsistence — living off the land — and native Alaskans are able to utilize fish wheels to catch larger quantities of salmon. Seeing fish wheels in operation was a treat for both pilots and passengers. Basically, stream current turns the "wheel" (think of a paddle wheel steamer), which scoops up errant fish who happen to swim in that immediate area. As the contraption turns, any fish caught in the rotating baskets slide into a catch bin via the angled planks.
Copper River fish wheels
One morning there was a Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) film crew in town. I volunteered as their pilot/guide, the goal being to showcase unique scenery and glaciology of the park. Particularly interesting was helping them mount all sorts of video gear in and on the aircraft. Look for the PBS special about Wrangell-St. Elias National Park in 2020.
Gaining insight on behind-the-scenes aspects of creating ready-for-TV narrative and positioning the aircraft for optimal lighting to give prominence to landform elements was a special experience.
PBS follow-up runway video
Living among the giants
Passengers appreciated learning about the local area during flights, whether it was simply pointing out landmarks, highlighting historical trivia, or explaining the many geological features. With glaciers ever-present, I delved into the numerous, salient features of glaciers — some only seen in Wrangell-St. Elias Park. Medial moraines, Ogive glacial rings, Jökulhlaup events, and collapsing serac-driven avalanches all provided ample descriptive flight narratives for our passengers.
Above the Kennicott Glacier, near Mt Blackburn; Packsaddle Island & Parka Peak
Based on archaeological research, the local glaciers reached their last maximal extent in the mid 1800's. Due to one of the warmest summers in Alaskan recorded history, downwasting — rapid glacial retreat — accelerated before our very eyes.
Astonishing amount of water coming out of the Guyot Glacier into Icy Bay Photo: Mike Danaher
Terminous waterfalls were everywhere — even at altitudes above 10,000'. July 2019 was the warmest Alaskan month in the historical record. Creeks and rivers were as much as 30% above all-time highs. With most Alaskan area topographic charts having been last surveyed in 1959-1960, due to rapid climate change, glacier terminus were often many miles — sometimes 10 or more miles — off on our maps. Topography is indeed changing in the far North!
After dropping off passenger at the Fosse, a quick fly-by "good luck" pass
Below you see the arcuate "tree rings," or glacier ogives, on the Kluvesna Glacier. These bands, or side-to-side bumps, are often seen below icefalls. Scientists agree that each band corresponds to one year of a glacier's downward movement, not unlike the bead of a weld.
How this wonder of nature forms, and why only sporadically below icefalls, remains controversial. So prominent are many of these Ogives that they can sometimes be seen from space! What a treat to see and fly over these each day!
Dark glacial bands, known as Ogives
You might ask: what is a Jökulhlaup event? A Jökulhlaup is an Icelandic term for the sudden, almost catastrophic release of water from an ice-damned glacial lake. Though I hadn't heard of this term, nor had an inkling that such even existed, we were all able to witness such firsthand. Basically, water can accumulate behind a winter-created ice dam along the side of a glacier. At some point during the warmer summer months, the ice dam melts, releasing in some cases prodigious amounts of water which drain under the glacier. Hidden Creek Lake and Erie Lake (below) were but two of many regional Jökulhlaup.
Local legend has it that the pilot who first notices and reports the sudden release of water from Hidden Creek Lake receives a free beer from everyone at the local saloon that night. Speaking from personal experience — that didn't happen. Nonetheless, most everyone spent hours watching the resultant flood event at the only footbridge into town — water came within a foot of the base — a 20+ year record as told by a Park Ranger.
Erie Lake Jökulhlaup: Note the stranded icebergs
Superlatives abound within Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. The second largest icefall on planet Earth is a mere 10 miles up-glacier from the runway. Chaotic, jumbled, impassible, and well over 6,000' top-to-bottom — the Stairway Icefall. As you might imagine, this was a popular, regular destination on our flight tours.
Stairway icefall
Rock glacier? Wrangell-St. Elias National Park is one of three locations in the world where there are actually rock glacier s— yes, the predominant element is rock — not ice. Once pointed out, examples were frequently evident. Low ice velocity, permafrost, lava-like appearance, distinctive lobes — usually several lobes — characterize these regionally specific features. Certainly geomorphologic oddities, one would perhaps ascribe them to simple landslides. Such, however, is not the case. Our passengers were always surprised, as were we pilots initially, to learn of and see these in person.
Multi-lobe rock glacier in the Lakina valley
There are ice caves within easy walking distance of McCarthy. Beyond beautiful and literally in our backyard! Being able to simply walk less than two miles from our cabins and see these — daily if desired — was extraordinarily memorable.
A snow tunnel near the fosse by Kennicott Glacier
Kennicott Glacier ice cave Photo: Mike Danaher
Wrangell-St. Elias Park has the second-largest non-polar icefield in North America. When the weather cooperated, we occasionally flew sightseeing tours over the Bagley Icefield. At 127+ miles long, 7+ miles wide, and in places over 3,000' deep, glimpses of this vast area never ceased to amaze. As a bonus, weather occasionally blessed us with views of Mt Logan (Canada, 19,551') in the Canadian distance.
Bagley Icefield and Mount Logan, which tops out at 19,551' MSL
Even in poor weather, the vast wilderness and immense glaciers left us at a loss for words. The Pacific ocean is less than 25 miles from certain points in our flights. Often, moist ocean-fed off-shore weather created poor visibility in this rarely seen locale.
Bremner Glacier on the way to the Bagley Icefield
There were the inexplicable oddities of nature that I stumbled upon one day. Gasps, expressions of "wow!" and many other superlatives left the mouths of pilots and passengers alike, stunned seeing such phenomena.
The "Face" above the Jeffries Glacier
Evidence of rapid glacial change were all around us. We'd be sitting at the airstrip pilot shelter and often hear thunderous crashes from the nearby Kennicott glacier. After taking off we'd swing by on our downwind departure to see what collapsed. Where else can you work while both aurally and visually experiencing real-time climate change?
Glacial "collapse" on the Kennicott Glacier
As mentioned earlier, Alaska had a record breaking warm spring, followed by an unusually dry summer. There were the predictable forest fires; thankfully none in the immediate area. We did have a lot of smoke-induced haze, but only a few days of significantly reduced visibility.
We also experienced a two day windstorm which long time local residents described as the worst in memory. With few tie-downs on the gravel ramp at McCarthy, an ATV hauled numerous 100+ lb weights out to secure aircraft. Many trees throughout the region were uprooted, sheltered though they were. Our cabins shook!
A WMA C-185 awaits its next flight on the compacted gravel ramp surface at McCarthy.
End of the season
Fall comes early in Alaska. By late August the tundra began to express the coming onset of winter. Each day brought a new color cornucopia across the landscape. Speechless. Drop-dead gorgeous!
Castle Peak, Mt Blackburn (13,690') and the colorful Lakina Valley
The flying season officially ends mid-September. My life-long best friend flew Delta Airlines up to Anchorage to join me on the flight home in my Super Cub. Certainly the highlight of our trip was the crystal clear, calm weather and camping at Icy Bay.
An evening flight in the colorful Lakina Valley. This is truly a dream, but all dreams come to a close, eventually.
There are a few Super Cub-type strips around Icy Bay, and if you're lucky enough to be able to land at one — let alone camp — the experience is otherworldly! Make sure to watch the short video showing the massive Guyot glacial-melt waterfalls that I shot here in Icy Bay.
Video
Evening sun on Taan Fjord, Icy Bay Photo: Mike Danaher
For many, myself included, just looking at this photo lowers the blood pressure. This is why summer in Alaska is a bucket list item. Photo: Mike Danaher
There's little else to be achieved – Airplane, beautiful setting with not another soul within miles, and your camp for the night.
The way South to Denver was largely rain free — though the inevitable, or so it seems, headwinds made it a 6 day trip.
All in all, it was indeed a summer adventure worthy of ticking off that dream on the bucket list.
The trip home — McCarthy to Denver.
