Grandchild Peaks ridge - photo credit: Scott Fischer |
“We need to do a ridge hike,” I told Scott. “We haven’t done a
good ridge hike yet this summer.”
He looked surprised as he replied, “Sure we have. We hiked
Gold Ridge and up Mt. Gastineau in May.”
“Doesn’t count. That’s not a real ridge hike.”
“O.k., then, we hiked part way along the Juneau ridge a few
weeks ago.”
“Doesn’t count. We should have done the whole ridge.”
He looked mildly exasperated with me. “We hiked to the top
of Powerline Ridge.”
“That really doesn’t count. That’s more like hiking up a
peak and not along a ridge.”
He gave up. “So where do you want to hike?”
We live in Juneau, so it was time to play Pick-A-Ridge. I
thought for a few moments. We plan to do the Gastineau-Roberts-Sheep ridge soon
with a neighbor’s visiting nephew. The Juneau ridge is a good one to save for
going alone on a sunny day. Blackerby ridge might be busy with Juneau Icefield
Research Group activity around Cairn Peak and Camp 17 this time of year. “How
about Grandchild Peaks ridge? You haven’t been up there for a while.” I was up
on the ridge just last year for a solo summer camping trip, but Scott hadn’t
been up there for at least two years.
The next day was the first real sunny day after what seemed
like a long week of steady rain. We loaded the mountain bikes in the truck and
headed over to the Montana Creek road. The first mile and a half is a gravel
and dirt road along Montana Creek, just right for easy biking. Fifteen minutes
later we locked our bikes to the first bridge on the trail and hiked another
half mile or so along the creek.
The 1,900’ climb up through the woods was more relaxing than
I remembered, probably because I only had a light day pack instead of an
overnight pack, but also because I’ve become very familiar with this route.
Familiarity does not breed contempt in this instance, but instead gives a
comfortable feeling of relaxing with an old friend. Much like my yoga practice,
so much energy is saved when your mind is calm and the muscles you are not actively
using are relaxed.
We climbed above the tree line and on to the ridge. I was so
happy to be up in the mountains that I didn’t even mind while Scott lagged
behind to take photos. I found a comfortable spot with a view in all directions
and away from the biting insects below, and I soaked in the view.
We continued up and over the several small peaks along the
ridge. I pointed out my campsite from last summer and the highest point I
reached when I was alone on that trip. I had not been relaxed enough hiking
alone to continue on the steeper terrain then, but with Scott along I
confidently moved up the narrow rock sections until we were at the edge of the
icefield.
At the edge of the Juneau Icefield - photo credit: Scott Fischer |
A brisk wind was blowing, but if we ducked behind a rock
outcropping we could sit in the sun and stay warm. We agreed this would be our
high point for the day, although we could have continued across the snow to
another peak we’ve climbed before. But we’d completed as much of the ridge as
we needed for our first “real” ridge hike of the summer.
100% satisfied with our "real" ridge hike - photo credit: Scott Fischer |
Climbing back down
the steep parts of the ridges I once again used the breathing and relaxing
techniques I’ve learned in yoga. When you’re about to step down a tricky rock
section that falls away on both sides, it helps to remember to breathe evenly,
and to calmly think about where you want to place your feet and hands. In yoga,
we call it being “mindful”. Did I first learn these techniques in yoga, or did
I develop them from years of hiking in the mountains? Probably a little of
both, and I’m sure they reinforce each other.
High on the ridge a hiker can encounter a few steep cliff sections - photo credit: Scott Fischer |
Running back down the easier ridge sections, we mentally
braced ourselves for the narrow, muddy, twisty trail in the woods below, which
is so much easier to climb up than to stumble down. Even my relaxation skills
were not sufficient to help me avoid the dreaded butt slide in the mud. Let’s
just black out that 45 minutes of the hike, and jump ahead to happily mountain
biking down Montana Creek to the parking lot and our truck. I felt as satisfied
as I could possibly feel. This was a real ridge hike. The muscles were working
just fine, the endurance was good, and our attitudes were fully primed for the rest
of the summer and many more ridges. Go ahead: pick a ridge, any ridge.