Log Three: Takshanuk Ridge Hike
The end - Mt. Ripinski
By this point in the hike I had walked just over 5 miles, gained well over 4000 ft, had one wet foot, crossed lots of summer snow almost wiping out just once, and taken hundreds and hundreds of photographs.
The day had been glorious with not one cloud up above, but I was beginning to feel a bit zapped in both energy and spirit. The sun at this latitude and altitude is especially exhausting, and in the last mile a strong wind had picked up which were equally draining.
I pulled my trusty buff up and over my face and ears, shielding them from the sound of the wind, sometimes I find the sound of wind is actually more intense than the feeling of wind. My buff paired with my new glacier sunnies helped to ease the elements, especially the glare while crossing large patches of summer snow. Feeling a little more sheltered from the sun and wind, I felt an immediate shift in my mood, swinging back towards positivity and enthusiasm for the last mile.
I had been surprised by the amount of residual snow. In hindsight, of course there would be snow patches up here, it was certainly high enough and summers here were cold enough for snow to linger. Almost every mountain surrounding Haines was holding onto snow.
This patch on the way up to the summit of Mt.Ripinski was particularly beautiful, detailed with patterns. Layers traced along the edges of the snow patch, like the rings of a tree they marked something though I am not sure what, maybe times when snow melted in the day and frozen again at night.
Mt. Ripinski Summit
The end was in sight.
Before heading up to the summit, I hopped off the trail for a moment to visit a small pond formed of snow melt just to the left of the peak. As I approached the pond I hoped it would be deep enough for a sneaky skinny dip, but it was only inches deep.
I thought about stripping down to I guess roll around or sit in the pond, if for no other reason than the beautiful photograph. But the air was crisp with a breeze rising up and over the mountain, and sitting in inches of cold water isn’t really the same as diving into a mountain lake. So I met back up with the path and headed to the summit.
the pond turned out to be only inches deep, not ideal for swimming
Standing on Mt.Ripinsky
The chilkoot side
Looking Straight down the lynn canal
Looking North: Peak 3920, Chilly Ridge behind & canada over yonder
I hung out on the summit of Mt.Ripinski for a while, finishing off my provisions and soaking up as much of the view as I could. Now slightly more tired, my adrenaline having run its course, I was less overwhelmed by the views. I didn’t feel frantic anymore, but back to my usual calm self able to absorb the landscape around me.
From the summit I could hear the group of teenagers I had hiked up to the saddle with. Inching ever closer the wind carried the occasional laugh and dog bark. We had agreed to meet back up at some point along the trail, before the trail left the alpine and reentered the bear infested forest once again. They moved quickly and I sat on the summit for maybe half an hour before they caught up.
We sat together for a few moments, they told me a little about the wedding, had a snack, I pet the dogs they had brought with them and then we all carried on together, back to town.
the final patch of snow
I don’t often feel or register my age, I’m sure none of us do. But hiking with a group of eighteen year olds, born in 2002, will make you very aware that you yourself are not a teenager. Despite the fact that I not only remember being eighteen as if it were yesterday, but sometimes I can still feel what it was like to be eighteen, not every moment but the highlights.
Just last year I was buying a ferry ticket in Norway and when asked my age I answered reflexively with “eighteen”. It took a few seconds before I laughed and said, “sorry I’m actually twenty-five not eighteen, that was strange.” The person selling me my ticket did not seem to think it funny at all, but looked at me sternly as if trying to decipher if something sinister was going on, like I was using an alias or stolen identity.
Eighteen is such an interesting age, huge transitions and decisions, and most exciting of all, hook ups and break ups of which I heard all about on the way down the trail. Anthropologically it was fascinating to meet these not just all American kids but all Alaskan kids.
Three of the four had grown up in Haines, friends since birth spending days climbing mountains, skiing, sailing, fishing, swimming. One of them spent four months every winter in Mexico, a pretty epic combination, one of them was the daughter of the bride from the wedding hours earlier, one of them had just officially broken up with his girlfriend and would usually be fishing but due to the pandemic was riding this summer’s plush unemployment.
In between their stories, we talked about traveling, favorite places I had been, where I wanted to visit next, how to save money, was I nervous to travel alone? They told me about their travel hopes and dreams and I made sure to reply with utter confidence that they could make any of those travels come true, cause if I could, they could too.
I’m not exactly sure I have the authority to make such a claim, but in terms of access and views offered, this trail has to be one of the most magnificent day hikes in the world. If you are ever in Haines, you must hike into the Takshanuk Ridge for a taste of how wild and vast Alaska really is.