Family Winter Trip

My brother and I jumped off the three-wheeler, rushing to check on our little brother.  He jumped out of the weeds with a smile on his face! He thought it was a great ride.

Now to tackle the job of untangling ropes and reloading the trailer.  We tipped the trailer back onto its wheels, gathered all the scattered load and began reloading.   We lifted the plywood and coolers back into place and tied them down again as securely as possible.  My brother jumped back on top of the load and we all headed off down the trail again. 

Two or three miles later the rough trail had loosened the load and the whole routine was repeated. It would continue to be repeated every few miles for the rest of the trip. 

Gayland's Hill was soon upon us. I had been dreading the hill the whole way.   I knew we would never make it past the spring in the middle of the incline.

Fortunately the creek was low this time and we splashed across with no problems. My dad started up the hill with the four wheeler pulling for all it was worth.  He hit the mud of the spring and the machine began to spin and lost momentum. 

My brother and I had parked the three wheeler at the bottom of the hill.  We had developed the habit of making sure the machine in front had made the top of the hill before we tried to go up it with the second machine.   (Another lesson learned the hard way! it’s no fun having two machines stuck on a narrow trail on a steep hill!)   Knowing my dad would likely not make it up the hill with this big load we were already walking up the hill.  We began to run but it was too late.  We pushed for all we were worth but it would go nowhere.  There was only one solution now.

There on the side of the hill we started unloading the trailer, splitting the load into three manageable chunks. We stacked the heavy plywood on the upside of the hill.

It needed to be out of the way so we could get past with the four wheeler on our return trip.  

We had to go clear to the bottom of the hill each time to turn around. 

Three trips up and down the hill, we once again reloaded the trailer and started off on the last leg of the journey. Only about 5 more miles and this load would finally be at the cabin!

During this trip to the cabin we were hoping to get the last joists set and the floor on so that we could begin building the walls. 

 

We accomplish our goal.  Our trip back to town was much lighter with no problems!

It was fall and time for school.  My dad was back working long hours so we had to wait until Christmas break for our next trip.  Two whole weeks in the wilderness!  We  would be able to get a lot done in that time!

Carefully we packed the tools and supplies we would need for two weeks in the bush.  By this time we had two snow machines and two sleds so we could haul the whole family for the trip out to the cabin.  

We loaded up the truck and trailer with the machines sleds and equipment the night before so we would be ready to get an early start on the long dark drive to Talkeetna were the trail begins. 

Leaving several hours before sunrise, our goal was to to get started on the trail before sunrise so  we would have all the day light possible for traveling. 

We knew we would have a long trip ahead of us.  The sleds were heavily loaded for our extended stay.

Arriving at the trailhead, here is the typical process is for getting ready to head out:  

first you unload all the equipment that had been packed in and around the sleds and machines and pile it on the ground, second unload the machines and sleds.

Thirdly, it is time to sort the load into piles. One pile for stuff you will need on the trail before you reach the cabin. Another for the stuff you might need before you reach the cabin. The last pile for stuff you know there is no way you would need before you got to the cabin.  Then you look it all over and try to figure out how in the world it is all going to fit!  

We then lay a large tarp in the bottom of the sled with all the sides hanging out over the edges of the sled to form a sort of bag.  After that you start putting the stuff you won't need during the trip, on the bottom and the things you might need on the top. 

 

Once you get those two piles evenly distributed between sleds it’s time to pull all the sides of the tarp up and over the load and tuck them in tightly so the whole load is covered.   When you are traveling on the trails in the winter the machines kick up a lot of  snow spray and very soon everything is covered with a layer of snow.  The tarp keeps it all dry and clean.

 

Tying down the load is a very important part of the process.  You begin by lacing the ropes back and forth over the load cinching it down as you go to keep it all tight. 

 

The trail is so bumpy and rough that the loads will shift even when they are tied tightly.  If they are tied loosely you wont make it far at all before your load is all over the trail! 

 

When every thing else is tied tightly in place you pick up the trail essentials and tie them to the top of the load where they are easily accessed without uniting the whole load.    The sleds resembled a dog sled only made from metal with a platform to stand on behind the load.

This trip was different than the last one with our family.  It was winter this time and the snow was deep. It was piled up next to the trail like a high white wall.

We left the parking lot and town behind, the snowmachine engines popped along and the sled runners squeaked as they carried us into the frozen white landscape and away from the hustle and bustle of town. 

My heart was light as we set out on this  new adventure!  I was eager to see what was around the next bend and a anxious to leave behind the troubles and complexities  of life in towns and cities.  

On we traveled my dad often turning and looking back to make sure all was ok. Several times he stopped and everyone checked their faces and ears for frost bite.  The dogs were trailing behind and Moose especially, was in sheer ecstasy to be out on a beautiful day,  running to his hearts content. 

 

 

THE FIRST FAMILY TRIP TO THE CABIN

 

As we pulled away from the stream I was pretty sure Moose would take to the water.  He may have been a big wimp but I was convinced he would not be left behind! He was a much bigger, stronger dog than his mother! He just needed to have a little more motivation.

We started up the long, winding hill.  As the trail wends its way up to higher country there are open places you can look down to see the stream.  I looked back just in time to see him plunge into the river with great determined leaps! He was NOT going to be left out there in the woods, alone!  Before we made the top of the hill he had caught up and was in his usual place right behind the machine.

 At the top of the hill we stopped to give him a rest.   I petted him all over, telling him he was a good dog and I was glad that he joined us.

The rest of the journey was accomplished with no more great obstacles.  The few remaining creeks, though flooded, were all small enough that we were able to drive through them easily.  The water was deep and we were soaked again with each crossing.  Though cold and soaked to the skin, by the time we made it to town, we were grateful for the safe trip.  Soon we would be home where a hot meal, dry cloths and warm bed were waiting. 

I was bringing another valuable lesson back home with me from the wilderness.   Many times in our lives we come against obstacles that seem insurmountable with no solution. But if we don't give up and we persevere through the pain and discomfort we will make it through.   We really can accomplish more than we think we can, when we have to!

This lesson would be reinforced again and again on our trips into the wilderness and mountains.  A lesson that would give me strength to face the challenges, that unknown to me at that time, lay ahead.

Back at home, all I could think about was going back out to the cabin.  Nothing else could quite compare with the excitement, adventure and peace of the wilderness.  It was a place I truly felt at home, a place where I was measured by how I faced the challenges, not by the cloths I wore, or the music I listened to, or whether I was part of the cool crowd or not.

If you are patient and willing to learn, the wilderness has a vast store of riches for those who care to discover them.  If someone is arrogant and unbendable unwilling to learn, the treasures of the wilderness will never be found.

Finally the day arrived in late summer, we were once again on our way!  This time the whole family was coming and we had 3 full sized 4 x 8 sheets of ¾ plywood strapped flat to the top of the trailer for the floor of the cabin.   We had to tie them down flat on top of the trailer since they were longer and wider than the trailer and they would not fit any other way.  We topped the load with two coolers of food and the ever present chainsaws, ropes, come-along and other tools that might be needed on the trail.

 Approaching the railroad bridge, our first challenge of the trip became obvious.   The walkway on the side of the railroad bridge that is for pedestrians and machine use is 46 inches wide, plywood is 48 inches wide, there was no way those boards were going through that way. My dad decided that taking the trailer up on the railroad tracks and pushing it across where the trains run was the best solution. 

 I could not believe that my dad would decide to take the trailer across the train side of the bridge!  I was terrified a train would come as we were half way across the 400 foot long bridge.  There had been people on three-wheelers and snow machines killed riding down the middle of the tracks and not able to get out of the way in time. 

 We wrestled the trailer up on the railroad tracks and began the task of pushing it across the bridge, my dad pulling from the front and my brother and I pushing as hard as we could. 

 Looking across the more than 400 feet of bridge and expecting a train to roar down the track at any moment we started off, pushing for all we were worth.

 Every minute seemed an eternity! Finally, we made the end of the bridge it had been the longest 400 hundred feet of my life.  Enormous relief flooded through me as we pulled the trailer from the tracks.  We sat down with a sigh of relief. 

We caught our breath and recovered our nerves. Then we walked back across the bridge to drive the machines across, hitch up and continue our trip.

 My mom and dad on the four-wheeler, my youngest brother on the top of the trailer sitting on the cooler, and my middle brother and I on the three- wheeler.  The dogs were running behind. 

All was right with my world once again I was headed back into the wilderness to spend several days working on the cabin and exploring the country nearby.

As we continued on into the bush we realized that that big load of plywood high up on the top of the trailer was going to be a problem! It was constantly shifting and there was no good way to tie it on tight enough. The constant bumping and bouncing would loosen the ropes and soon the ply wood would begin to shift. 

Scrambling up the next hill, just ahead, we could see the trail tilted precariously. As the trailer bumped behind the four wheeler it caught the edge of the trail, flipping over.  My youngest brother went flying into the underbrush, coolers crashed to the muddy trail, and the three heavy sheets of plywood spread out like a deck of cards.  My Dad felt the load lighten and stopped.  Was my little brother hurt?

Battling the River

 Standing there on the bank of the creek, I looked down into that cold dark water.  The four-wheeler was buried with only the handle bars breaking the surface.  My heart sank.  Would it ever start?  Was the engine completely ruined? How would we get home now?

 I learned a very important lesson of living in the wilderness that day.  When you are in a tight spot and it looks like you won’t make it through, don’t worry about the things you can’t change and do what you can, even if it doesn’t seem to help the really big problem. 

My dad told me we needed to get the trailer unhooked. We could not pull them both out of the river hooked together.  He plunged in once again to the frigid water, groping up to his shoulder among the submerged branches to find the tongue of the trailer.  Finding it, he tightly tied a rope around it and then to the brush.  Now soaked to his shoulders in the icy stream he had the trailer secured and he could unhook it from the four-wheeler. It would now stay put while we battled with the stream to pull the four-wheeler up onto the bank.

Next we untied the rocks on the four-wheeler and dumped them into the creek.  The four-wheeler then began to float just slightly.  We pulled on the rope, still tied to the front.  There was no way we could overcome the power of the water without help.

We stopped to catch our breath and warm up a bit.  My dad decided we would try and use the three wheeler.  I untied the end of the rope from the tree and tied it around the axle of the three wheeler.  Once I had the rope tied and my dad was ready, I started the machine and slowly began to pull the four-wheeler up out of the water and then up the steep bank out of the creek. 

I was relieved.  We were able to get it up. One hurdle overcome!  Still, I had a nagging worry, would the machine start?  Was the engine ruined?  I asked my dad if he thought it would start. He said, “Well….. Let’s just let it sit and dry out and not worry too much about it right now. We need to focus on getting the trailer up out of the creek.”

 I looked down the bank at the alder brush whipping back and forth in the current.  The trailer was still tied to the bushes floating there like a boat.  Much of our gear and supplies were packed in water tight plastic buckets which provided floatation along with the wood and the balloon tires on the trailer. 

Now we just had to get it up onto the bank and out of the creek.  Overcoming the strength of the current without being swept down the creek along with the trailer would be our biggest challenge.  

 Once again we took the end of the rope that had been attached to the four-wheeler and plunged into the belly deep water fighting the current and brush. Making our way to the floating trailer, we tied the long rope to the tongue. We then stretched the rope up and around a tree, then to the three wheeler, pulling it as tight as possible.  I started the machine and pulled it forward to take out more slack. 

Now the rope tied to the brush was loose and my dad could reach down and untie that. With the machine I held pressure against the rope feathering the throttle so I did not pull too much until it was untied.  As soon as he yelled, I began slowly and carefully to pull forward. He guided the trailer along to keep it out of the brush. Slowly we were able to pull it up and out of the raging water to dry ground.

Another job accomplished!  We collapsed on the machines exhausted and tired but relieved to be out of the river!   As we looked across the stream our hearts sank we could see on the other side the shotgun leaning against a log and our two dogs, Moose and Babe, pacing the water’s edge.

The dogs were unwilling to cross the river and sat barking their dismay.  Someone had to go get the shotgun. I volunteered to be the one to cross back over yet again and to see if I could get the dogs to cross.  There was no way I could ever carry them across. 

Moose, my dog, was a husky, hybrid wolf, chow cross and his mother was a chow husky, neither one very small!  So once again I plunged in and waded the river.  When I reached the other side I slipped the shotgun over my shoulder and grabbed Moose and shoved him into the deep water. He swam a bit and turned around and came back to the shore.

Then I shoved his mother Babe into the stream, she took off swimming for the other side for all she was worth.  The current swept her downstream several hundred feet around the bend in the river.  Soon she appeared from the underbrush wet but no worse for the experience.

I grabbed Moose and drug him out again as far as I could, he just turned around and once again headed back to shore.  I decided I would just have to leave him.  He would have to figure out his own way across.

I plunged in to the bitter cold water once again. The repeated dousing chilled me deeper, nearly taking my breath away. The cold of the repeated crossings was seeping into my body making me more uncoordinated as I struggled across.  I staggered up out of the creek, I could hear Moose barking and see him pacing up and down the far side. He would just have to make it on his own. There was no other way.  I would be risking my own life, being swept down the river if I were to try and carry him across. 

Now the time had arrived, the moment of truth, would the four-wheeler start? The trailer was hitched and we were ready to go, if only it would start.   My dad turned on the key and the green light came on. Then he hit the starter switch and it cranked over a few times. Then it roared to life, oh what a relief!    I was very much looking forward to a warm meal and some dry cloths!   

Poor Moose was still stranded on the other side.   All we could do was leave him.

Starting A Cabin

 

After successfully crossing the trestle we could see the two shiny rails stretching ahead, into the forest. After a quick look back to make sure I was ready, my dad took off, bumping down the rough trail right on the edge of the tracks.

The railroad is built high up on a gravel bed 15 to20 feet above the surrounding ground. A narrow trail was precariously perched between the railroad tie ends and the steep gravel bank.  There was so little room that I had to constantly watch so that I would not hit the railroad ties on one side or roll down the gravel bank on the other.

(The trail is much nicer now and is down beside the railroad as is shown in this picture above, which I took recently, much safer!)

 

Mile by mile we traveled. Riding along my head was filled with thoughts of what might lie ahead.  I was startled out of my day dreaming.  I looked up to see a large light in the middle of the railroad tracks! Where  was I to go? the train was coming! 

My dad stopped and motioned me to get over as close as possible to the edge of the bank. As I dismounted, the train was upon us. It towered over us, rushing at us with a shrill of the whistle and  burst of wind.  Waving cheerfully the engineer smiled and was gone. Then all we heard was the regular beat of the train as it rolled by just a few feet away.
 

We continued on, turning off the tracks into the forest. The trail led away from the lowlands into the foothills of the Talkeetna Mountains, toward the place I had been dreaming about for so many months.

What a different place than the white sea of snow I had experienced the winter before.  Now it was one long ribbon of mud and water interspersed with creeks.  On and on we went through unending mud puddles. It wasn't long before I was soaked to the skin.

As the trail lead deeper and deeper into the forest it became less and less traveled. The mud gave way to tree roots and the humus of the forest floor. Making the trail drier for sure, but oh so much more bumpy! 

Traveling on,  the hills became taller and the creeks larger.  Stopping for a rest my dad said that we were getting closer.  Just a couple more miles and we would be there!  He pointed out over the valley and from where we sat we could see a large swampy area about a mile away. 

This is the swamp that lay behind our place.  There was only two more stream to cross, up a short hill and then just a few more twists of the trail and we would be there!

 
I stood looking southeast over the valley. Stretching on as far as you could see were more valleys, hills and mountains. I could hardly contain myself, what a land, what a fantastic land to roam and explore!

 Impatient to move on and reach our destination we started off. The forest changed again.  Now  we traveled through a mixture of trees and open meadows.  The  grass and fireweed, 6 to 8 feet tall all around us, a perfect place for a bear to hide! 

As we climbed the last muddy hill  and crossed the last muddy stream, my excitement grew.  Then I saw a ribbon on a tree.  Even before my dad stopped to tell me that this marked our property line, I knew  I had come home.  I looked around at the forest and knew this was a place to rest, a home.

We soon found a convenient place and set to work making a temporary camp.  This camp we would use as we built our cabin.  We made a ladder of large spikes driven into a birch tree.  Then we could string a rope high in the tree, to keep our food  out of the reach of bears. 

Cutting slender spruce poles we used them to make a lean-to with tarps.  It would give us a dry place to cook, eat and rest besides the tent.   After the lean-to was built we set up the tent.  

By that time I was starving!   finally after building a roaring fire and hanging my wet cloths to dry it was time to eat!

Sitting down by the fire after a long, cold wet day I was ready to soak up the warmth and rest. 

The next few days were filled with rain and work cutting trees, putting joists on the floor and getting ready for the plywood flooring.  Finally it was the last soggy evening.  It was time to pack up and head home. 

Unknown to us the streams we had crossed a few days before with ease, had become raging torrents.

 

Hours and Hours and Endless Miles of Snow

 

 

The decision was made.  We would continue on foot to the area we had chosen to stake our land.  We were sure it was not far now, and an easy hike would get us there.

 Morning found us up early and ready before first light.  We ate a hurried breakfast of instant oatmeal.  After carefully packing granola bars, our hot peppermint tea and emergency gear. We consulted our maps and compasses. Strapping on our snowshoes and backpacks we eagerly moved off into the deep snow with great anticipation.

 We soon found that it was going to be a long day!  Even with our snowshoes we were nearly waist deep in snow!  With five of us now on the adventure we decided to take turns breaking trail so no one person would get overly tired.

 Hour after hour on we trudged through endless drifts of snow!  As the shadows began to lengthen, the realization dawned that we would not make our goal. Standing there in the fast fading light we concluded that another day of breaking trail was in order. Sadly, we turned back short of our goal and headed for camp. It took us only a couple of hours to make camp on the packed trail.

 We arrived at camp exhausted, starving and soaked through. First thing was to get some hot food and drink and then change to dry cloths.  We slept well that night!

 One more day was all we had. As time was short, we were up early, on the trail long before dawn and moving towards our goal.  Reaching our turn around spot from the day before shortly after sunrise we again pushed on breaking trail through waist deep snow toward the lake.  Who knows how deep it would’ve been without snowshoes, but none of us were ready to find out!

 As the day wore on the truth became blatantly obvious.  We would not make it!  Turning around short of our goal was a brutal blow to our hopes and dreams.  

 

As a last chance we decided to mark the end of our trail.  Tying orange surveyor’s tape in a large triangle from nearby spruce trees, our hope was that one of the group could later spot it from the air and help us locate our lake.

 Once again we began the long trek back to our camp.  This time we would be packing up to leave the forest and return to town and our regular lives.

 Gear packed, we started our machines, beginning the ride back to town. A mixed feeling of emotions overtook me as I watched the trail roll by, this time with ease and speed, now that the trail was packed and hard.  We made excellent time.  I was looking forward to a warm bed and house and dry cloths.

 I felt a sadness and loneliness settle in as I saw the place slip by where we had camped the first night.

 Those last four days had brought accomplishment and frustration, success and failure.   I was already beginning to miss it! A seed was planted in my heart that time and miles has only succeeded in driving deeper, that call to the wilderness.

 

Would we ever find a place and return to this wilderness?