Forty-five years old, and alone, Walt Blackadar paddled his fiberglass kayak into a torrent of ice and water known as Turnback Canyon. He emerged the following day convinced he'd cheated death and that he had done something he never wished to repeat. He described a boiling hell of powerful whitewater mixed together with ice-bergs floating down from the surging Tweedsmuir Glacier.
Upon reading Blackadar's description of Turnback Canyon I remember shivering at the thought of running hard Class V with pieces of ice floating all around you. The thought of the ice surfacing from beneath your kayak or rolling on-top of you, paints a portrait of tragedy. Or what if while trying to punch a large wave or hydraulic the bow of your kayak plants itself into a piece of ice lurking beneath the foam pile and you find yourself stopped and now surfing the feature out of control with pieces of ice all around you...Even the best helmet and life-jackets made wouldn't be able to help you. Put yourself into a fiberglass kayak using a sub-par paddle made of scrap-lumber and you have a recipe for disaster, yet somehow Blackadar did it.
I've known many people who have successfully navigated Turnback Canyon in the thirty-seven years since Blackadar's historic descent. None of them, however, have described anything like what Blackadar described. None of them had seen the canyon during a Tweedsmuir surge either.
In the fall of 2007, Scott Harcke contacted me with plans to run Turnback Canyon in July of 2008. The idea was to go early and try to see the canyon at a similar flow to Blackadar's. All of the teams after Blackadar had navigated the canyon at much lower flows. Intrigued and always excited to paddle with Scott, I accepted the invitation. Scott and I immediately began begging our good friend Pat Keller to join us. Pat was enthusiastic and hesitantly committed.
We learned in mid-October of 2007 that the Tweedsmuir Glacier was surging at a dramatic rate and was already calving ice into the river above Turnback canyon. Immediately we realized we would be the first team to have a chance at seeing the canyon in a similar fashion to how Blackadar had seen it. Swollen and full of ice! (A Glacial Surge is an event where a glacier can move up to velocities 100 times faster than normal, and advance substantially.)
Not convinced we would actually get to run the canyon, we continued with our plans to just go explore the Alsek River and it's formidable canyon. In the early parts of 2008 we convinced Keller to completely commit and join the mission, with the plan simply being to have three friends venturing into one of the most powerful and beautiful wilderness areas on earth with the simple expectation of having no expectations. Just relax and have fun. Of course the adrenaline junky in us all was hoping and praying we got the opportunity to run the canyon.
By June 28, the three of us had congregated in Hood River,OR and were ready to make the 3 day drive north to Haines Junction, Yukon Territories. The plan was to meet up with Trans-North helicopter pilot Doug Mackonnen and set up a way to have him give us a Helicopter scout of the canyon before we would make any decision to run the canyon. We had heard of Mackonnen from friends Charlie Munsey and Doug Ammons who had described him simply as, "The Man." We'd heard stories of flying the canyon inches above the water at high speeds, leaving the passengers with there stomachs in there throats praying for their lives. Awesome!
Doug Mackonnen
We met up with Mackonnen on July 1st, 2008 at his office in Haines Junction. The man we met lived up to the reputation in every way. When Mackonnen walked into his office the mood shifted, an intensity filled the air and his every word commanded our utmost respect. At the same time we knew immediately he was genuine and kind and everything he told us was for our own safety and his.
He explained he was meeting a raft group at the canyon mouth in seven days and that he would be happy to give us a scout of the canyon (for a nominal fee of course) and then a ride out after we saw what lay in there. Mackonnen knew this wasn't the year to tempt fate and enter Turnback, but he also knew it was a decision we would have to make for ourselves.
Our second stop was to check in with Kluane Provincial park. Thanks to Harcke's hard-work, we had all the necessary permits to travel through Kluane via kayak and cross into British Columbia, finally arriving at Turnback Canyon over 100 miles later. The people at Kluane, were not very optimistic about our trip or our intention to even entertain the idea of running Turnback. After about two hours, we were sick of Park Rangers telling us we were foolish and crazy, but we had all the permits in order and were on our way.
At this point we had one problem. We were to meet Mackonnen at the mouth of turnback in seven days, but we wouldn't be putting on until the fourth of July. Typically a team will take 6 or 7 days to paddle all the flat-water down to the canyon from Haines Junction. We would be putting on with five days to get to the canyon. With a new sense of urgency, we prepared our things and camped at the put-in on a nice sandy beach. We enjoyed dreams of Blackadar and the mysteries that would soon be revealed to us downstream. Anticipation was high.
Day 1:
We awoke on July 4th, 2008 to overcast skies and our excitement couldn't have been any more substantial. Our goal was to paddle 50 miles down the Dezadesh River to it's confluence with the Alsek and on to Lowell Lake on day 1. It was an ambitious goal we'd heard, to try and make it 50 miles in a day, but we were an ambitious crew and had plenty of energy to take out on the flat-water stretches and upstream winds that were fabled to plague the stretches of river above Lowell Lake.
Pat and Austin ready to put on
The crew Scott, Austin and Pat, moments before putting on
Our going seemed slow, however we enjoyed the scenery and the tranquility of the place. When we were on the Alsek,we felt truly alone, in the wilderness and at the total mercy of the elements.
After four hours or so we stopped for lunch and took guesses at how much distance we'd put behind us. The consensus seemed to be that we'd travelled twenty miles or so, but couldn't be sure as the rate of travel would alter dramatically when the river flattened out and had little current. At other times we had the benefit of 20,000 CFS pushing us downstream in more narrow sections of the river.
A few hours after lunch, we reached the confluence with the Alsek and witnessed our flow nearly double. We guessed that at this point we had between 20 and 30,000 CFS in the river. However the width of the river in these upper stretches makes it very difficult to gauge flow. It is also very difficult to gauge distance in a place like the Alsek. The mountains and the rest of the landscape are all so large and everything is on such a gigantic scale that we would see a bend in the river and it would take three or four times longer than we expected to reach the bend. Despite the fact that the going seemed slow, we reached Lowell Lake on target around Five O'clock P.M. on July 4th 2008 and I remember with vivid detail, the shock and awe feeling that came along with my first glimpse of the Lowell Glacier.
We came around a bend in the river and the Lowell Glacier came into view. First, we could only see the scars from the Glaciers previous surge. The side of the mountain looked as if it had been excavated by heavy machinery. Slowly, as more of the valley came into view, we saw the ice become visible. First only the western side of the glacier and slowly more and more. A wall of ice easily over fifty feet high and what looked to be a half of a mile or more wide, was now clearly visible. As we got closer and closer we now could see the glacier expand deep into the mountains as far as our eyes could see. MASSIVE!
Our team of three, was shouting excitedly as we witnessed our first of many natural miracles. Immediately, we paddled across a short portion of Lowell Lake and set up camp directly across the lake from the glacier and at the foot of Goatherd Mountain. It was a campground with a view fit for the god's and we were more than happy to make it our home for the night.
As the mood quieted down, and our trio began to set up camp, an un-settling noise began to make itself known. It sounded like thunder, yet the sky was clear. Sometimes, a subtle creaking noise would build and build and build until it exploded in a violent crashing sound. It took only a few times of hearing this, to realize it was the sound of the glacier shifting and dropping ice into the lake. It was the actual sound of the earth at work.
With camp set-up, we ate dinner and each began to take-in our surroundings. With no intention of ignoring each-other we each separated ourselves from one another. Pat settled in with his journal. Scott took his camera to the top of a knob next to camp. I went for a walk, to the base of the mountain at our rear. I felt fully at peace that evening, for the first time in my life, feeling like I had truly escaped the day to day goings on of the civilized world. It was a feeling, that at times over the next four days, would heighten to the point that it seemed as if the whole rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Day 2 :
Our crew rested late into the morning. It's hard to tell the time of day when you're on the Alsek, as it is daylight almost 24 hours a day in early July, and never gets fully dark.
It was time for coffee, and this poised an interesting problem. The boys and I, had purchased a bag of coffee, we believed to be pre-ground. However when rationing out our food supplies the night before putting on, we found that it was not pre-ground and we had a bag of whole coffee beans. Harcke, of course had brought a small supply of instant coffee packets that would now become oh so valuable.
Back to the problem at hand, coffee beans, Pat and I decided to use rocks to grind up the beans as best as possible. We would then cook them cowboy coffee style and just boil it a little longer. Well, our plan worked out after only minimal trial and error. Pat's pot conveniently had a small hole in the lid which allowed us to filter the larger chunks out of the coffee and enjoy only minimal discomfort while enjoying that good ol' morning cup o' jo.
After a slow start to the day and all of us still enjoying our incredible surroundings, we decided to climb three quarters of the way up Goatherd Mountain. The clouds were breaking, and the view would be no doubt one of if not the most amazing of our lives. We all changed into our shorts and T-shirts, as it was quite warm, put on our booties and began heading for the mountain.
The way up was an adventure in itself. No true trail had formed, as the first 400 feet you climb are solid rock. The rock stairsteps it's way up to a grassy knoll where a small trail could be found. The three of us all enjoyed finding different routes and scrambling up the mountainside, always peeking back behind us to watch the ever-improving view. After 10 or 15 minutes, we reached the small trail and began bounding upward, to a point we deemed perfect. We sat down and took it all in. A view so beautiful, I could never have imagined it.
The sun had broken through the cloud-cover, and we could see miles and miles of the glacier all the way back to Mt. Hubbard and Mt. Kennedy. The Lowell Glacier was now ribboned with brown sediment, white and blue patches of ice as it coiled it's way deep into the mountains.
The sight of Mt. Hubbard and Mt. Kennedy in the distance was a gift from above. We never dreamt we would get to see those two beautiful 16,000' peaks that are part of the core group of mountains that form the largest glacial ice-fields on earth! We stumbled down the mountain after spending about forty-five minutes basking in the sunlight and taking in the view. It was starting to get late in the day now, almost Noon, and we still had to paddle thirty miles or so. (Lucky for us, it doesn't get dark on the Alsek in early July)
Boats packed, drysuits, helmets and lifejackets back on our bodies, we paddled out into Lowell Lake to observe the floating ice-bergs at a little more intimate of a distance. What we found was majestic. Bright blue pieces of ice the size of houses, floating in the lake. I paddled under one's overhanging shelf and was treated to a shower of freshly melting ice-water, and an up-close view of the glowing ice. We approached the ice and sometimes touched it, always hoping that the ice-berg wouldn't suddenly decide to roll over and crush any or all of us at any given moment.
The power of this place is very real and it only became more evident when we saw up-close the size and power of these beautiful and calm looking pieces of ice. The constant contrast of beauty and power of the Alsek Wilderness is unmatched by any area I have ever seen. This feeling only intensified, as we left Lowell Lake and paddled downstream.
We knew that today, we would be paddling the two class IV rapids that are known to lie in the stretches above Turnback Canyon. One of these rapids has earned the reputation of being called Lava North, as it contains many of the same characteristics as it's namesake to the south.
Not long after leaving Lowell Lake, we came across the first and smaller of the two rapids, Sam's Rapid. Excited to have some moving water, waves and even few holes, the three of us sprang to life and played with the cross-currents and features of the rapid. Nothing too dangerous was known to exist and we all reached the bottom grinning, happy to have had a little bit of excitement and a chance to have tested out our boats which were heavy and loaded with gear. We regrouped, and began floating downstream, towards Lava North.
We reached Lava North not more than an hour or so after Sam's. We'd heard the rapid was bigger than the first, yet we still decided to drop in blind and work it out. HoooRah!
The rapid started out with gentle rolling waves that increasingly got bigger and bigger, until they were maybe 10 - 12' high. Finally the rolling waves became steep crashing waves, with large foam piles. These waves were harder to see over and much harder to maneuver through. As we hit each one we looked downstream for any unseen dangers. After three or four waves Pat and Scott started moving hard left. I saw the reason why a second later and began moving left myself. I was behind Pat and Scott and the Giant hole taking up the river right side of the river was getting increasing closer and I wasn't moving very fast. I pulled harder and harder until finally I broke free, clear of the hole and into the safety of the rolling run-out downstream.
Lava North proved to be exciting and a good warm-up for what we just might get a chance to run downstream.
After Lava North, the river continued to meander through increasingly large mountains. Around one bend, we saw bright yellow rafts and bright orange tents along the edge of the river. The Alsek is often guided commercially but trips are normally staggered so that trips rarely see one another. However, due to the rapid pace we had been travelling, we caught this group on our second day. The group was a commercial group, and the guides treated us to some of there extra food, before sending us on our way downstream to a different campsite.
We paddled through a tight canyon with lots of waterfalls trickling down the rock faces on either side. At the end of this canyon, was a small sandy beach backed up to a towering 500' wall. This looked like a good spot so we pulled over and set up a camp.
While setting up camp, I slipped on a small rock and sliced the back of my foot open badly. I ran to Scott and Pat who were more than eager to practice a few wilderness medicine techniques to keep this large gash from ruining our trip. After only a few minutes, the wound was flushed out, cleaned out and treated. The problem I would have from here on out, would be keeping the wound clean and free of infection for the next five days.
After treating the wound and finishing gathering wood, we all cooked dinner and talked amongst ourselves about what we'd seen so far and what we might see downstream. We finished the night with an excerpt from the book, " Never Turnback." Reading about Blackadar and his adventures, we all went to sleep dreaming of the canyon we hoped to lay eyes upon the next day.
Check back in about a week for Part Two of the Story.
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