Two Feet & A Heartbeat:: Juneau

I had been thinking of walking around the backside of Douglas Island for about as long as I've been trying to push myself to do a solo night of camping: 2-3 years. I don't have the nickname "Midnight Rise" because of my calm and cool demeanor in the middle of the night when something near the tent goes "CRUNCH!" I have my excuses for why I haven't done it yet, but this summer, as all kinds of teacher friends were beginning their badass summer adventures and I was sitting amidst an emptying house as we prepare for our move to Seattle and lacking any kind of adventure for the month of June, I looked at the weather for the week, found a two-day window, and went for it!

Notice the green line on the bottom portion of the island. We hiked left to right.

Brooks dropped Izzy and me off at 7am on Tuesday morning at the north end of Douglas Island where the road ends. According to alaskaweb.org, Douglas Island has 42 miles of shoreline; we were about to walk 30 of them.

Before!

We made quick time down the boardwalk and several miles of trail through the forest marked with flagging that dumped us out on the beach. It was a beautiful morning and the tide was still low, a minus tide, and the shadow of the Douglas peaks hadn't yet allowed sunlight to touch the beach. Two young deer scampered off the beach that morning, and that was the end of our wildlife viewing FOR THE TRIP! My "Hey, Bear" game is too good.

The beach was wide, mixing from small rocks to sand and back as we passed by headlands. Even though it was a shady morning, we knew to expect heat. Juneau was expecting sunny skies and a high of 63! The high tide line was beautiful with a beautiful purple tint from the inside of blue mussels. What was really extraordinary was the lack of blue mussels visible at low tide. Where were all the blue mussels that appeared in the high tide line? We were about to find out.

Middle Point

Eagle's nest

The only set of tracks we saw the ENTIRE trip. These are deer.

All the mussel shells

We spent our lunch that coincided with high tide at Point Hilda. It was a beautiful beach with wildflowers and a large outflowing river that went up to my waist; I decided not to cross until the tide was lower as we were in no rush. We watched a kingfisher make several diving attempts into the briny water until he flew upriver.

Point Hilda

Hilda Creek

This was at least waist high...

High tide

Tide was going out

As the tide lowered, I saw a rocky beach upriver about 30 feet around the bend. As we navigated our way to it, beating back Pushkie (AKA Cow Parsnip for you heathens uneducated in Kodiak Alutiiq terms) and hemlock boughs, it became obvious that the river was much, much lower here. In fact, it only came up to my ankles! I was still thankful for the two-hour lunch/nap.

Just after we crossed the water, Izzy gave her first sign of being hot and tired: She laid down in a small trickling creek. She was hot!

Hot dog; the first time she has EVER laid in water

Lupine

Iris

Indian paintbrush (anyone else think this is a racist name?)

Beach peas

Less than an hour later, she was back down in a creek again. While she rested and cooled off, I spotted a sea otter eating a fish! (Unfortunately iPhone's zoom is low quality, so no pics.) When she laid down again in the sand, while I was walking away, I decided to give her more than just a 10-minute break, so we stopped for dinner. We sat in the warm sunlight, watched a raft of scoters, and ate a Philip T.-inspired dinner of Idahoan potatoes and home-dehydrated veggies. It was delicious!

Hot dog

Dinner view

We continued on one more mile to make it to a place on the map that identified a "Tidal Flat" so I knew there'd be a flattish area to pitch a tent. Unfortunately, the terrain to get there was anything but flat. We discovered where the blue mussel shells originated: steep rocky outcroppings for at least half of that mile. At several points, I was lifting Izzy up and over or down outcroppings. She and I were both getting really tired of the amount of energy required. She clearly wanted to be done, but I kept moving forward and her loyalty commanded that she follow.

Steep and sharp rocks.

Camp

We made it to the flat and I spread out the Thermarest and she immediately staked out her half and lounged while I put up the tent and heated water for evening tea. Our tent required no rain fly, nearly unheard of in SEAK! We were directly below an alder tree (Yes, Kodiakans, you read that correctly! Alders are mostly trees and sometimes bushes here; different species) in a bed of fallen alder leaves that made for a cushy mat. It was 8pm and we were both ready for sleep.

Ready to sleep

This was go-time. Sleeping alone in the wilderness. I was feeling very confident: I had seen no sign of nary a bear nor wolf. Izzy, on the other hand, was alert. Each time she heard a "CRUNCH!" in the woods, she was erect and looking through the screen sidewalls. She was up multiple times that night, but I slept really well... except for when Izzy woke me up.

Low tide was 7:30am, so we were up about 5 and walking down the beach shortly thereafter. This side of Douglas Island is much steeper than the other parts of the island and I wanted to make good use of the minus tide to get us through it. There is very little tidepooling with the topography of this side, but what was revealed at low tide was fun to look at!

First morning view; we hadn't heard the cruise ship

Awful quiet, but a mighty wake

Many urchins

Hundreds of dead sea stars

Izzy's feet were becoming chafed from the continual line of blue mussels, sharp shale rock, and barnacles, so even though it was low tide, she would dodge into the forest at the rocky outcroppings. This made for some interesting bushwhacking and trail finding. Because we were along the coast, navigating was not difficult, but picking our way around/over/under downed trees, mini forests of Devil's Club, bogs of chest-high skunk cabbage, huckleberry bushes, and tree boughs proved interesting. I used my sunglasses as eye protection to give you some idea of the interest level. :) Animal trails would be well defined and then simply peter out. This gave me a revived and greater appreciation for Brooks who most often does our trail finding in these moments, but I definitely gained confidence doing it on my own.

No trail

An old cabin... creepy

Found this on a steep section

Flagging...

No trails

Grave marker bolted into the rock

We took our first break at Icy Point about 11am. This was an incredible location. After hours of minimal beach and rocky outcroppings and little flat land, Icy Point was a refuge. There was an elevated mini-peninsula that offered a beautiful view, flat ground, and a curving sandy beach. Izzy was ready for a break. We rolled out the Thermarest in the sand, listened to songbirds and eagles, heard the exhale of whales somewhere in Stephen's Passage, and fell asleep in the sun as the day started to warm up. This was our first direct sunlight of the day.

Sunny, but chilly in the shade

View from Icy Point

After nearly two hours of lounging and lunch, we headed inland for a trail in the flatter topography of the southern tip of Douglas Island. Not only were the trails much more defined, but we also came across our first sign of bear scat. There are only a few songs I know beginning to end, but I sang them on repeat. As we rounded the island and came upon a cabin at Marmion Island, we had also hit high tide. We found a place in the tall beach grass, rolled back out the mat and took another break, waiting for the tide to go back out so we had some land to walk across. Izzy immediately fell soundly asleep. I discovered I had cell service and gave Brooks a quick FaceTime after his text came in that just that morning he was informed he was being promoted to 06 Captain! It was a tough connection; we gave some thumbs-up and smiles and ended the call. We sat in the sun and I read a book I had downloaded from the library.

At first, no trails...

Well used trails on the south end

Marmion Island

Pretty Shooting Star

As the tide withdrew, Izzy and I continued our walk towards home; we were in the final stretch. We passed the numerous cabins on the south end, in various levels of upkeep and disrepair. A few hours later, I recognized the landscape of the Treadwell Historical Park and text Brooks our ETA in 10 minutes. He was in the Sandy Beach parking lot to welcome us home and an Island Pub pizza for dinner. We had walked and lounged our way around the island in 47 hours.

The first glimpse of Juneau

Cool bridge!

Tree stand?

Done!

A tired pup

In retrospect, I shouldn't have brought my puppy dog. Izzy took two days to recover--sleeping on the heating pad, Epsom salt baths for her feet, and plenty of yummy treats. She was stiff. Although the mussels never cut through her paws, the skin around them was highly chafed. This walk is definitely doable in a day, a long day if one was so inclined. But there were plenty of neat areas I skipped over and didn't spend time exploring, so the trip could also be done in multiple nights. I would have liked to explore Point Hilda and Hilda Creek if I had more time. Also, the amount of boat traffic was incredible; I never did feel too alone. Although I had my Epirb, flagging down a passing vessel wouldn't be too difficult if one needed. Some parts of the walk were tedious--Gastineau Channel beach line and the steep area after Point Hilda to Icy Point. I'm glad I did the hike, but I'm not sure I would do it again. The best part of the hike was the first half of day one: end of the road to Point Hilda; that is definitely worth revisiting.