Touring Kennicott

I dislike waking to an alarm, and I’m on no real schedule. So let my body decide. Idly, I’d been planning to catch the 9 am shuttle but there are more after that. As fate would have it, its not too far after 8 when I do wake, so I get moving. Throwing a few things into a day pack, whipping up some oatmeal and a quick coffee, I drive the mile or two back to the free parking on this side of the footbridge. Checking my watch as I shoulder my pack, I’m cutting it close. Just as my toes hit the bridge, I see the big white shuttle van pull away on the other side of the river. According to my watch, they’re early. (It is lying, I’ve got it set a few minutes off.) Well, damn. The shuttle schedule is every thirty minutes in the afternoon, but I can’t remember if it is hourly in the mornings or what. Its only 5 miles… I guess I’ll walk it. My energy this morning is in no mood to wait.

Its not a terribly exciting hike along a gravel road, but the area is ringed in some impressive peaks. They continue to be shrouded in smoke however, so the distances that are normally visible are dramatically reduced, some of the peaks completely hidden. The general shuttle bus and some specific to the guide services rumble on by as I plod along on my morning walk. It is enough to warm me up in the chilly morning air at least. Taking off my hoodie, I realize the heatwave plaguing the state is at least temporarily over. Passing a few residences in the last mile, I eventually start seeing the telltale red buildings of old historic Kennicott.

With a bit of info (and map) from the National Park Service on which buildings they operate exhibits out of, I pop over to the group that runs the “mill tour”. It is a preserved 14 story wooden structure, spilling over and down the hillside above town, used to refine copper from the ore extracted from the nearby mines. Starting up top and slowly working its way through various crushing, sifting, sorting and separating methods, it arrived at the ground level ready to be put onto trains or to advance into the chemical refining steps that took place across the street. The tour consisted of a small group walking with a guide, learning much about the town, its buildings and history and a hike up the hill and then winding down the entirety of the mill. Turns out it is the tallest freestanding wooden structure in the country, among other interesting mining related accolades that puts in on the national historic registry.

The walk to town took almost two hours and the tour another two or so. My hours escaping, I asked the tour guide as we wrapped up what her favorite activities were and relayed my list to her. On her advice, I put the hike up to Bonanza mine on hold and checked out the Root glacier next. With my micro-spikes I picked up a few seasons ago for my hike along the continental divide, I head north from Kennicott another two or three miles to the base of the glacier.

Somewhat strangely, the floor of the valley that the town overlooks is also glacier… bit it looks more like piles of stone or gravel because of all the debris picked up. Where this trail meets the ice, it is truly exposed ice and looks as a glacier “should”. The recent rain has served to wash even more of the surface dirt off, bringing forth the deep blue color from underneath. Another hard to understand story of the glacier I learned from my tour- when the children of the miners were brought back to see the town some seventy years after the town was abandoned after the mine’s closure, they were stunned to find out they lived in a valley at all. Evidently the glacier was some three hundred feet higher then, completely obscuring the mountains on the other side of the valley.

Upon reaching the Ice’s edge, I up on my spikes and stroll out onto the ice. The ice is nice and solid and the spikes grip well. This is my first time ever actually on glacial ice and I’m trying to be mindful of the potential dangers. Crevasses? Weak ice? Cornices? Starting out a bit cautiously, I quickly become confident in the terrain and its behavior. Time to explore! I find tiny meltwater streams, deep and bright blue cracks leading deep within the body of the glacier and even a few people ice climbing the more vertical faces. In a few places the trickling meltwater comes together into larger flows that cut impressive troughs into the ice, creating log flume like runs of clear, cold water. These little rivers flow through big banking turns, cutting their strange meandering paths deeper and deeper. It almost looks fun to sit down and slide their length. If only I had my drysuit… that thing does make me feel a little indestructible when it comes to water. Such an new, alien environment is fun to wander in for a while. I find myself wondering about glacial camping and eyeballing how far this glacier appears to run up the valley. Maybe I should have brought more gear. After a few hours tooling around like an inquisitive child, I start my return trip.

For some reason, the miles on ice and a few more on land back to Kennicott flash by in the blink of an eye. My watch tells me the day is more or less spent, even though the persisting daylight would have me believe otherwise. I was debating the eight or nine miles up to the mine still… but taking a quick inventory of my body’s current state, I find that I am a little tired from the days walking and ice hiking. Actually sore enough that the shuttle back to the footbridge seems much more appealing than doing that five mile walk again. Looks like I bit off a bit too much for one day… and missing that shuttle didn’t help. Another night here then. The beauty of an open schedule. I know I want to paddle McCarthy creek, if there’s enough time I may still hike up to the mine. We’ll see.