Claiming Land in Alaska, 2009 - Part 5

My nephew, Lee Buckingham, and his son, Daulton, visited us in June of 2009. We wanted them to see as much as possible in ten days, so Mary put together a full calendar, whirlwind tour. The tour included a drive north to Hatcher Pass and Talkeetna, a day to Alyeska and Portage Glacier, a day in Seward, another day in Homer, a tour boat across Kachemak Bay to Seldovia (and a nostalgic visit to the cabin we once owned). Finally we camped at Deep Creek Campground and drove out Oil Well Road in an attempt to visit the land.

A couple years earlier I looked at the satellite view of Google Maps, and discovered two large gravel pads in the vicinity of where we parked our vehicle in 1990 (“P“ on Map). One pad (“A on Map) was just south of there and a road ran west from it to the second pad (“B” on Map). Much of the road connecting the two was build on the seismic trail we walked in 1990. If we could access the land via that installation it would cut the distance to half. I found that it was operated by Chevron. If we could get permission to use Chevron's road it would simplify our adventure. The office was on pad “A” along with some other buildings and company vehicles.We went in, introduced ourselves, and told our story. Our land was no more than a mile and a half beyond the west end of pad “B”, and if we could pass over it our trek would be a lot easier. The superintendent was friendly and gracious. He gave us permission to park in a gravel pit just east of the pad. The pad was fenced, and there was heavy activity going on, but we could walk its perimeter.

Five of us made the effort: Lee, Daulton, my wife, Mary, Moonshine (our old dog), and myself. We parked and easily made it around pad “B”, and headed west on one of the seismic trails. (The path of our trek is drawn in red on the map.) We passed through a cut in the trees, dropped down a slight incline, started across a marsh, and discovered we were woefully unprepared for the adventure.

I had warned our visitors they might be plagued by swarms of mosquitoes, but the weather had been dry, and there was hardly one in sight. I told them rubber boots might be advisable, but it didn’t seem cost effective at the time as they would use them for only a single afternoon. That was a mistake. We had wet feet within minutes.

Bogs can appear inviting when viewed from a distance. They look like lush green cushions that one could lay upon and nestle in their soft billowy vegetation. When you get into one though its more like walking on a wet sponge that is laying on top of a waterbed. The surface is a matrix of interwoven tendrils floating on top of a reservoir. Sometimes its solid, sometimes it bobs under your step, sometimes it breaks, sometimes you can sink up to your knee. Its not all that easy to navigate. Lee and Daulton were wearing tennis shoes that soon became saturated. Mary and I had low-cut rubber boots that weren’t much better. Moonshine didn’t mind having wet feet, and was frolicking like a puppy. We forged across the bog, went onto slightly higher and drier ground, but then seemed to get back into boggy terrain. Mary and I lagged behind and became further separated from Lee and Daulton. Moonshine was working overtime, doing double distance by running back and forth between parties. Mary was upset with having wet feet, and concerned that we might get separated and lost - never to find our way out. She has a goal oriented personality and wasn‘t enjoying that particular process.
About a half mile into the adventure we were forced to re-evaluate. Lee was energized, leading the way, taking lots of photos, checking alternative routes, and covering nearly as much territory as Moonshine. He, like myself, would have trudged on. Daulton, at fifteen years, was stoic, not having much to say, but probably wondered why we were out there, with wet feet, in the middle of nowhere.

Mary was for going back. Moonshine was having too much fun to comment, but her age was beginning to show. She was a twelve year old, 110 pound Husky/Lab mix - an exuberance puppy trapped in a geriatric body. Her knee joints have deteriorated causing her back legs to bow, and her feet to turn inward, giving her a pigeon-toed stance. She was showing signs of tiring. If we went all the way, she might not make it back, so we decided to give it up. We walked a triangle (red line) back through the bog and then crossed a wooded area with lots of down fall and tall grass to get back to the pad. Maybe I’ll make it another year.