The Exodus

Our third night in the backcountry (after the bear-sighting that day) was ferociously windy.  Sustained winds shook our tents and gusts folded my tent on top of me within inches of my face.  No amount of rocks or stakes could keep the windward side in place, so when it started raining early in the morning, water got in.  I tried my stove but it would not stay lit in the wind-- no hot breakfast for us.  After we packed hurriedly in the gusty cold rain, it was an easy decision to head straight for civilization.  We had intended to stay in the backcountry for two more nights, but with everything soaked and cold, it would have been miserable as well as dangerous.

We hiked 10 miles in five hours without stopping to take off our packs.  If I stopped for more than 30 seconds, I felt cold to my bones so we trudged, going straight through the river several times, over frozen snow fields, through silt, trying to walk as the crow flies, the most direct route.  At points, the rain turned to sleet and blew horizontally into our faces.

One thing that is rarely well-portrayed in pictures of Denali wilderness is the scale: the distances are much greater than they appear.  When Angela and I finally spotted our destination--the ranger station/bus stop-- we were still 2 and 1/2 hours away.  But we eventually arrived, staggering up the riverbank to some mingling tourists that probably wondered why we looked like the living dead. 

The bus ride back to the frontcountry took 3 1/2 hours, during which I ate an entire bag of trail mix and we spotted more wildlife.  We resorted to a regular campsite, complete with a flat, protected tent area and a fire pit!  The fire, combined with some late afternoon sunshine, dried out most of our gear and we went to sleep quite comfortably.
 

Getting out of the backcountry ended up allowing us to see a greater variety of landscape, since the following three days were filled with various hikes (on trails!).  The hike from the picture above climbed along a ridge and dropped down to three beautiful isolated lakes, where we had lunch.  The trail ended on a highway and we hitch-hiked back, which was almost too easy: our thumbs were up for approximately 5 seconds...

 

A hike above Savage River.

A hike in the alpine zone, above the tree line. Very windy. We saw arctic ground squirrels, cousin to the prairie dog.  To give you perspective, look for the tiny black dot on the trail in the middle left of the picture-- that's Angela!

The park road.

 Occasionally we did easy hikes through lovely aspen forests.

On our last half-day in the Park, we rode a bus along the road in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mt McKinley (or Denali), the mountain after which the Park is named, the highest peak in North America. The mountain is only visible 30% of the time and is often obscured by haze or clouds.  Luck was with us: the white blob in the middle right of the picture is Mt McKinley 80 miles away.  Not the best picture, but there she is.  You might not know it was it were it not completely snow-covered, unlike some of the smaller mountains around it.  So we got to leave Denali having caught a glimpse of the mountain and having seen much much more in the way of landscape, flora, and fauna.