Backpacking 24 Miles in AK Grizzly Country

BACKPACKING 24 MILES ON THE CROW PASS TRAIL IN ALASKA HAD US PREPARED FOR ANYTHING – GRIZZLIES, WHITEWATER, AND MASSIVE GLACIERS. OUR CREW FROM ABC’S ROCK THE PARK VISITED CHUGACH STATE PARK TO SEE WHAT THE HYPE WAS ALL ABOUT BACK IN JULY OF 2019.

There’s a series of steep mountain valleys and alpine glaciers tucked between the busy suburbs of greater Anchorage and the upmarket ski town of Girdwood, just 40 miles southeast. The historic Crow Pass Trail cuts through this dense wilderness, and was once the only reliable route through the interior of the Kenai Peninsula, linking Anchorage to Seward via dogsled in winter. Now part of Chugach State Park, the trail is among the most popular backpacking routes in Alaska, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Our crew was told to prepare to hike a marathon route of 24 miles in two days to complete the Crow Pass Trail. We’d start in the foothills of the Chugach just outside of Girdwood, hike uphill for three miles to the main summit, then cross beneath the exquisite Raven Glacier, next dog-legging down to the Eagle River and our planned campsite. That was just day one. The next 24 hours would involved fording an ice-cold river that regularly frustrated hikers if the water was too high.

Here in Alaska, it seems that nature is an intrepid designer, with no landscape left devoid of interesting features. Although just miles from the major hotel chains and restaurants of Anchorage, Chugach State Park looks and feels like a remote wilderness. And that’s because it is. The state park includes 495,000 acres of rugged mountains and glaciated peaks, the third largest state park in the United States.

I already knew this place from the hallows of ski movie fame. The word “Chugach” being whispered reverently as the home to many major ski descents from extreme skiing pioneers like Doug Coombs, Shane McConkey and the filmmakers from Teton Gravity Research. I’d always dreamed of visiting this place, and I was about to get the chance of a lifetime. It didn’t matter that those particular ski descents were several hundred miles away near the port of Valdez. These mountains stretched perpetually toward the horizon. How should we prepare for them?

To arm ourselves with a nutritional staple that can’t be matched, we turned to the best possible trail food known to man: pizza. There’s an outstanding pizzeria in Anchorage called the Moose’s Tooth, and each member of our hiking party took one of their pizzas into the bush.

Day one of our hike was predictably tough and beautiful. Low visibility and drizzling rain made for an uneasy trek through the high mountain pass beneath the Raven Glacier. Did we hike alongside hidden grizzly bears lurking in the undergrowth? It’s hard to tell. Huge swaths of fog descended from the mountain peaks, obscuring the terrain. There wasn’t much I could see beyond the trail, as the thick brush grew over my head.

You can check out the full episode on YouTube – Chugach State Park: Hiking Through Fog and Whitewater

Thankfully, the landscape seemed to open up as we crossed the pass, and sunshine filtered into a long, rocky valley that was deceptively large and overhung by glacial ice. It was now long past noon, and our stomachs were growling. We opted to shelter behind some gorgeous, flower-strewn boulders for a quick lunch. I can remember thinking we could keep hiking and eat in the valley bottom, but the remaining trek through snow and boulders took over and hour. Alaska’s terrain is always much bigger than you think.

The few dusky hours of Alaskan sunset and dawn commingled as we tucked into sleeping bags just before midnight. This was grizzly bear country, and one of the most conflict-prone areas in the state due to hiker traffic. That meant we took extreme precautions with food and scented items, storing anything that might be appetizing in bear-proof containers several hundred yards from camp. We cooked dinner even further away to minimize the risk.

The second day of our Crow Pass hike began early, with a bright morning sun that was already overhead at 6 a.m. Today would bring a major river crossing challenge, and conveniently serve as the climax of the episode. Although crossing the Eagle River wasn’t an easy task, I’ll argue that the our group’s anxiety was a bit overhyped. We’d already passed two groups of hikers who had turned back from the icy torrent, daunted by the high water. One woman even told us the river crossing was the scariest moment of her life! Talk about feeling psyched out. The question was: could we safely cross without sinking up to our chests or deeper? The thought of trying to swim this river was downright dangerous, so we needed to find a shallow crossing and check the depth.

YOU THINK YOUR JOB IS FUN? I ATE A WHOLE, MEATLOVER’S PIZZA IN ALASKAN GRIZZLY BEAR COUNTRY WHILE HIKING 24 MILES IN 24 HOURS. PICTURED HERE IS BEN CANNON, OUR PIZZA DELIVERING PRODUCER

A short hike brought us past a narrow, raging whitewater channel that I suspect most hikers had mistaken as the official river crossing. We followed this channel upstream, where it widened into a large meadow. The river snaked back-and-forth here, forming several interconnected shallow streams. We elected to send our field coordinator Ben across to check the depth here, and he reported success, only sinking to mid-thigh. I would make the journey next, straining against the fast moving water and using my video tripod as a walking stick. Jack and Colton crossed last, their trekking poles probing for unexpected dropoffs among the smooth rocks of the river bottom, packs unbuckled in case of a fall.

As it turned out, the river crossing was totally within our skill set, and I felt bad for the hikers who’d turned back the day before. I wondered if they hadn’t found this convenient crossing spot, or had been too afraid to try? Regardless, the fear and anticipation we felt in crossing had been the most exciting part of our hike. The remaining ten miles we had to cover that day were much more straightforward, tracing the river downstream. Interestingly, we found this section of trail had nearly washed away in spots, and balanced precariously atop bluffs and clifftops in others. A few places even required some hastily built wooden ladders and climbing ropes that other hikers had rigged before us.

A SELFIE WITH THE GORGEOUS BRAIDED CHANNELS OF THE EAGLE RIVER IN THE BACKGROUND

It was now going on 24 hours since we’d begun this marathon journey through the Chugach Mountains, and I was getting tired. Somewhere around mile 20, all the terrain started to look the same: a mix of dense forests and swampy meadows leading to our endpoint, the Eagle River Visitor Center and its gateway to civilization: a paved parking lot where we’d catch our ride.

However, just when I thought all the adventure had been wrung out of this trip, our gigantic director of photography Tony, who stands 6 feet eight inches and is the size of an NFL defensive lineman, got himself nearly chased down by an equally gigantic bull moose! I guess he’d stopped to film one last hiking shot near the visitor center, and spotted the big fellow. The moose apparently hadn’t taken a liking to Tony’s large frame, and came charging through the forest just a few yards away. Thankfully, Tony had escaped without a scratch, probably because everyone on the film crew smelled worse and looked tougher than any bull moose after so much time spent in the woods.