Tag: outdoors

Where the Clouds Parted: A Knoya, Kanchee and Nunaka Ridge Walk

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
May 31, 2025
Knoya: 4600′ – FR #17
Kanchee: 4393′ – FR #20
Nunaka point: 3780′
Mileage: ~14 Miles
Elevation Gain: ~5000′

The summer wasn’t summering, and I was suffering from a bout of springtime depression that only sunshine and warm weather could cure. I dragged myself to the Klutina Trailhead to meet Jason. We left one vehicle there and carpooled up to our starting point at Stuckagain Heights—neither of us particularly excited to hike in the fog and rain. After a bit of complaining, we checked in on the JBER RecAccess website for the areas we’d be hiking and set off toward The Dome.

Within two miles, we had already passed a variety of freshly blossomed wildflowers and the Long Lake Trail. Not long after that, we were above the treeline and deep in the fog. As we trudged along in our respective gloomy stupors, craving warmth and sunlight, little glimpses of blue sky would peek out from behind the thick clouds, offering slivers of hope.

A solitary ptarmigan perched on a boulder welcomed us to the top of The Dome, where we paused for a quick bite before continuing up the ridge toward Knoya. The low ceiling of clouds persisted as we ascended the jagged ridge. From a distance, the ridgeline looks deceptively daunting, but once you’re on it, the walking is fairly straightforward with no scrambling required.

The true summit of Knoya is tucked away from the main ridgeline, so as we approached what seemed to be the peak at around mile 4.8, we veered just south of the intersection of the ridges leading to The Dome and Kanchee, traversing the south-facing slopes. There’s little risk here, aside from the jagged rocks—one of which managed to slice through my shoe when I misstepped. Thankfully, my Topos took the damage and my foot was fine.

Knoya’s actual summit came into view less than a quarter mile to the east, at the far end of the south-facing slope. Tikishla and the surrounding peaks were still hidden in clouds, and as we stepped onto the summit, it began to snow—typical for late May or early June, and far more tolerable than the rain we’d started in.

We snapped a few summit photos and turned northwest toward our next goal: Kanchee Peak. While many GPX tracks on Gaia and Peakbagger show a direct ridge route to Kanchee, we chose to retrace our steps about a quarter mile and follow a less exposed, less scrambly path along the north slope of Knoya’s false summit. The snow stopped suddenly, but the clouds lingered.

While walking the ridge toward Kanchee, I stopped to add snow to my water bladder—2 liters wouldn’t cut it for a 15-mile hike. I took a long swig of ice-cold water just as one final snow squall passed over us. We climbed over a small rock outcropping, and then the sky began to brighten. A patch of blue appeared, and the clouds below us rose, revealing all of Snow Hawk Valley. Peaks 1216 and Ship Creek Hill came into view, sparking fond memories of our recent hike there in gale-force winds.

The sky continued to open up, and the little blue patch grew. We spotted a small cabin down in Snow Hawk Valley. I’ve heard of people using it, but since it’s on JBER land where overnight stays aren’t permitted, I haven’t found any official resources explaining how to legally use the shelter. I wouldn’t recommend attempting an overnight trip there without written permission from JBER officials—you don’t want to lose access to military land hikes.

Kanchee’s grassy slopes made for an easy climb, and so far, we hadn’t faced any real challenges along the ridge. As the sky continued to clear, we reached the summit of our third peak of the day. The views into Snow Hawk Valley were magnificent—Temptation, Tikishla, and Knoya were now fully visible. Our crappy moods were finally cured. Although there were a couple of odd markers at the top, we didn’t find a summit register.

Now six miles in, with three summits and over 4,000 feet of gain behind us, we paused to put on our tall gaiters. Deep snow clung to the ridgeline and northwest face of Kanchee. I voiced concern about the ridge route due to unconsolidated snow and a sheer drop-off to the east (I’m always irrationally paranoid that my dog might leap off a cliff), so we descended via Kanchee’s west ridge to a point where crossing the snowfield felt safer.

Even 700 feet below the summit, we were still postholing through knee-deep snow. I eventually chose to slide down the final few patches to the base of Nunaka. Two hundred feet above us stood the summit of Nunaka, the last peak in the ridgeline series—seven miles into our hike now. The clouds returned as we walked up the grassy slopes, and by the time we reached the top, the views had vanished again.

One last summit selfie, and then we descended the ridge toward Snow Hawk Road. It was an uneventful descent—except for Jason finding a nice pocketknife and me discovering a great snow slide.

We were on the road within an hour, heading toward the Bulldog Trail and back to the Klutina Trailhead, only stopping to watch a good-sized porcupine climb a tree. The lower we got, the sunnier and hotter it became—a fine reward for a day that had started so dreary.

I took one last look back at the ridgeline I’d long wanted to hike, filled with that deeply satisfying feeling of truly knowing a place.

The Dome, Knoya, Kanchee, Nunaka Point Peakbagger Links:

The Dome Peakbagger

Knoya Peakbagger

Kanchee Peakbagger

Nunaka Pt Peakbagger

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. There is very little exposure on this ridge walk, but the weather can change quickly. Be prepared.
  2. Be bear aware.
  3. Sign into JBER RecAccess before entering military land. Sign into all areas you plan to access. No overnights are permitted. These areas are closed between 11pm and 6am.
  4. Knoya’s peak is set back from the U-shaped ridge, heading towards Tikishla. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re at the top when you are less than a quarter mile shy of the true summit.
  5. Parking at Klutina and Stuckagain are limited. Get there early to grab a spot and respect the neighborhoods by not parking like an asshole and by carpooling, if possible.

Recent Trip REports:

Where the Clouds Parted: A Knoya, Kanchee and Nunaka Ridge Walk

May 31, 2025 Knoya: 4600′ – FR #17 Kanchee: 4393′ – FR #20 Nunaka point: 3780′ Mileage: ~14 Miles Elevation Gain: ~5000′ The summer wasn’t summering, and I was suffering from a bout of springtime depression that only sunshine and warm weather could cure. I dragged myself to the Klutina Trailhead to meet Jason. We…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Chasing the Wind: A Long-Awaited Victory on Peak 1216 and Ship Creek Hill

April 26, 2025 Peak 1216 AKA 3990: 3990′ Ship Creek Hill: 3842′ (chugach Front Range Peak #24) Mileage: 15 Miles Elevation Gain: 5,700′ The majority of the Southcentral Alaska winter of 2024-25 was uncharacteristically warm and relatively snow free, but here we were in April, with record breaking snowfall around Anchorage. The ridges and peaks…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal

Pedals, Peaks and Thunderstorms: Bike and Hike Mount Margaret in Denali National Park

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
May 25, 2025
Mount MArgaret: 5069′
Denali NAtional PArk
Mileage: 4.6 Mile Bike/4.6 Mile Hike/4.6 Mile Bike
Elevation Gain: 2,750′

This year’s annual mother/daughter camping trip in Denali National Park looked a little different from our normal stay at Riley Creek Campground. The Labor Day prior, we decided our next trip would be to Savage River Campground, 13 miles up the Park Road from the Parks Highway.  This was a great opportunity for me to take a day to bike and hike Mount Margaret, a broad mountain just beyond the Savage River.  

I had been eyeballing this summit since our first trip in 2019.  In 2020 I was still ignorant to doing route research and made an attempt from the east, via the Savage River Loop Trail, with my 9-year-old in tow.  The 40+ mph winds were so strong she could barely stand up, so we turned around, and although we didn’t make it even close to the top, we did have the amazing experience of finding ourselves within a stone’s throw to two big, handsome Dalls sheep.  A fine consolation prize. 

The weather all weekend was decent, but I waited for the day with the least chance of thunderstorms to head out on my adventure.   After looking back at the photos of my first steps on Mount Margaret six years prior, I am sure the off-trail route from the east would have gone, but this time I decided to approach from the south, giving me the opportunity for a nearly 15-mile RT bike and hike.

It was one of those overcast mornings that has potential to turn into a really nice day, so I ate breakfast and set off before 11am on my bike, headed west into the park.  Not even ten minutes into my ride, I saw one of the tour busses stopped with its hazards flashing; a sign that there was wildlife nearby.  Sure enough, three caribou were grazing along the Savage River, to the south of the road.

Two miles from Savage River Campground and the Savage River bridge where the road closes to public traffic and to go any further you must be human powered (bike or hike) or ride one of the park busses (during the winter you can ski and mush dogs, as well).  This was where, almost 5 years ago, my daughter and I turned off the Park Road for our first attempt on Mount Margaret.  This time I was by myself; my now 14-year-old wise to my claims that it would be “fun” and “not too hard.”

I stopped at the Ranger Station and the Park Rangers made sure that I had paid my entry fee and that I was familiar with protocols for allowing the busses to pass, as well as making sure I had bear spray with me.   They asked if I had ever used it before and I assured them that it had been effective in the few times I had used it in my 21 years in Alaska.  I advised them that I would be hiking Mt Margaret and if anyone reported a bike abandoned on the north side of the road near there, it was just me and I would be back down in a few hours.  They gave me a Denali Bike Safety Sticker to show they had done their spiel, and I was off!

But not for long.  As I began pedaling uphill, away from the Ranger station, I noticed two park busses moving very slowly towards me with their hazards on.  I saw something small and furry in front of them, also moving towards me, and for a second I thought it might be small bear… I jumped off my bike and grabbed my bear spray from the side pocket of my pack before realizing it was just a beautiful red fox.  It trotted right past me, the buses slowly rolling behind, and, looking into the windows, I felt immense gratitude that there wasn’t a pane of glass between me and Mr. (or Mrs.) Fox. 

I continued, now warm from the sun and the effort to ascend the 600 feet to where I would stash my bike and start my hike.  I passed by an overlook where busloads of tourists were using the bathroom and taking a break from sitting in the bus to stretch their legs.  I opted to avoid people and marked my territory in the woods right around the corner where I stashed my bike.

I didn’t see any trailhead, and hadn’t expected to, so I dragged my bike through the alders as far as I could off the road, hiding it as much as possible as the Rangers had asked of me.  Having firsthand experience, I knew bears have a penchant for chewing on rubber and plastic, and I took a last look at my bike and helmet with a wish that they would be in one piece when I returned. Turning uphill, I started bushwhacking through the tangled and leafless branches. 

Just when I was getting annoyed with the lack of bootpath (about 30’ in), I stumbled onto a path!  It looked like my great day was getting even better when it became obvious that the path would lead me right to where I wanted to go… up one of the south ridges.  I was passing by the last of the brush, when two ptarmigans, a female in her brown plumage, and a black-headed male still wearing most of his white suit.  They made their ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga clucking sounds, I’d assume pairing up for the season.

Now that I was above treelined, I took out my Three Bears Special walkie talkie and hoped that it would reach my “base camp,” about 4 or 5 miles away, as the crow flies.  The reply from my daughter was a monotone and apathetic response to my excitement over my ascension on such a beautiful day. 

I noticed that Denali was peeking out from the clouds, towering above the foothills below.

The bootpath continued on, up a gradual slope to an overlook, past patches of snow growing in size and frequency.   I had hiked 1.5 miles from just over 3100’ on the Park Road to 4500’ where I came to a wide plateau covered in white.  From any perspective below this point, it was not obvious that this half mile wide tableland exists.  At first the snow was patchy, so I pressed on in a direct line towards the base of the summit, the trail having disappeared into the marshy grass.  The wind had begun to pick up and I needed my warm jacket.

The snow patches became wider and more frequent, and I began postholing thigh or crotch deep. I looked to the west and the east to see if it would be worth my time to retreat and circumnavigate the snow, but I was on a mission now and had no time to waste.  There were ominous clouds all around, some forming into thunderheads, although I remained bathed in sunshine besides the infrequent passing of a cloud in front of the radiating sunshine.  I knew my time to safely retreat without getting struck by lightning was shrinking, so I pressed on as fast as I could, opting to crawl for the last 100 yards. 

My feet firmly back on the alpine tundra, I walked up a steep mini draw that, after only a short distance, brought me right to the summit block.  As I crested to the top of Mount Margaret, I gasped in awe at the flat-bottomed cumulonimbus clouds releasing shafts of rain called, “virga,” precipitation that falls from clouds as rain, but evaporates before it hits the ground.  The dry air of Interior Alaska was drinking all of the moisture before the ground got even a drop.

Mount Margaret has a long fin of a summit ridge, the summit proper being a natural pile of jagged rocks.  I hopped up on it and scanned the horizon for 360 degrees to take in the view before snapping a couple dozen photos and videos to save the memory of an incredible summit day.  As I radioed my “base camp,” I spotted two people approaching the summit from the southeast and although I was disappointed to not be the only person on the mountain that day, I was excited to get a perfect summit photo that wouldn’t have been possible without their help! 

We chatted for a few minutes about their backpacking trip; they had come from Savage River and were continuing towards Mt Wright in the west.  Although I wanted to ask if they had approached via the same route my daughter and I had attempted in 2020, the clouds were building, and I wanted to try to get back to camp before a deluge came down.  It was possible that none of us could afford to lose the time to a drawn-out conversation. Plus, the wind was not letting up and I was ready to descend towards dinner.

I snapped a few pictures for them and then headed down the mountain, this time following the southeast summit ridge.  I figured it would add a little bit of distance, but I would avoid the majority of the snow, saving me time.  I already had soaked feet, but have never been too bothered by that.  I sloshed along across the plateau and quickly met up with the trail I had ascended. 

A little over two miles later, at 330pm, on the dot, I broke out from the alders and onto the Park Road, having followed the trail all the way down.  Now that I knew where it was, I noticed the hidden entry, but I could see how I missed it.  I walked about 20 yards west on the road and then into the shrubs where my bike was hidden.  I was relieved when I saw that nothing had decided to take a taste of my tires or anything else I had stashed.

The 3 miles back to Savage River Bridge was cruiser as I clocked along at 25+ mph, trying not to ride my brakes knowing I had already waited too long to change my pads.  Two more miles up a gradual incline brought me back to Savage River Campground.

Before long, my wet socks and shoes were hanging up to dry and I was eating quesadillas made by K in a cast iron pan over the open flame of our firepit. 

Energized by the beauty and solitude of the day, I began packing up our camp while it was sunny, the forecast being not so great for the following morning (our departure day).  The sun stayed out long after I crawled into my nook of the camper and poured over maps to figure out what my next Denali adventure would be.

Mount Margaret Peakbagger Link:

Mount Margaret DNP

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. Make sure you pay your Park entry fee. The best way to take care of this fee is to stop at Riley Creek Mercantile on the way into the Park.
  2. In most circumstances, you cannot drive beyond mile 15 on the Park Road. To go beyond the gate, you can take a tour bus, flag stop bus, bike or hike. You can also drive beyond the gate if you have reservations at the campgrounds beyond Savage River.
  3. Be bear aware. Always carry bear spray or other bear protection while traveling by foot or bike in DNP.
  4. Do not harass wildlife. Respect the serene environment. Don’t approach or feed animals and leave the Bluetooth speaker at home.
  5. Parking is available at Savage River at Mile 15, but it is a small parking lot that fills up quickly.
  6. Unlike many other national parks, off-trail travel is allowed in DNP. Choose your own adventure!
  7. Dogs are not allowed to travel off of the Park Road and must always be on a leash 6′ long or shorter.

Recent Trip REports:

Misty Miles and Mountain Birds: A Storm King Scramble to Mitty Peak

April 20, 2025 Olympic NAtional Park, WA Mitty Peak 2674′ Mileage: 4.4 Miles RT Elevation Gain: 2400′ After 25 years, I finally had the opportunity to fly down to Seattle from Alaska to see one of my favorite bands of all time, Phish. I can’t travel without checking out a new hike, so I also…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Beyond Bird Point and Into Technicolor Solitude: Bird Ridge Overlook

September 7, 2024 Mileage: 13.5 Miles Elevation Gain: ~6700′ BRO (4625′) Chugach 120 #98 Bird PT (3505′) CHugach 120 #120 Permits: CSP Parking Fee The 2024 Alaska State Fair had come and gone, a sure sign that the dark winter was going to be closing in soon. Even though it was another rainy summer and…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal

Chasing the Wind: A Long-Awaited Victory on Peak 1216 and Ship Creek Hill

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
April 26, 2025
Peak 1216 AKA 3990: 3990′
Ship Creek Hill: 3842′

(chugach Front Range Peak #24)

Mileage: 15 Miles
Elevation Gain: 5,700′

The majority of the Southcentral Alaska winter of 2024-25 was uncharacteristically warm and relatively snow free, but here we were in April, with record breaking snowfall around Anchorage. The ridges and peaks that were almost ready to be climbed were now blanketed in multiple feet of fresh snow. The avalanche danger had increased, and the Chugach turned into a hiker’s postholing hell.

My adventure partner, Jason, and I had made a handful of successful peakbagging forays since February, but had also experienced firsthand how challenging it was in the enduring winter weather of the mountains. We had postholed through waist deep snow, dealt with 30+ mph winds and trudged through multiple snow squalls.

We had some big traverse goals for the summer and needed to keep moving, even when the weather was continuing to fight us. The winds were forecasted to be gusty for the weekend, but we figured it couldn’t be any worse than when we climbed Rainbow Peak, just the month prior.

The only peak we hadn’t yet climbed that was not completely white just happened to be a mountain that had been obsessed with for the past couple of years. For some reason I was laser focused on marking Ship Creek Hill off my list… maybe because it is such a visible feature when driving north from Anchorage or maybe because I knew it was so rarely hiked due to a supposed schwackful trail up Snow Hawk Valley, or a long approach from The Dome or Snow Hawk Road.

Poor Jason never heard the end of it… when we were camped at Long Lake for my birthday (“we gotta do Ship Creek Hill”), when we were sitting out flash floods along the Kalalau Trail in Kauai (“I bet Ship Creek Hill would be fun”), and I think even as far back as when we walked the ridgeline from Triangle Peak to Mt Gordon Lyon (“There’s Ship Creek Hill. We have got to do that soon”).

We had made a pact that this year we would get up there, but it would have to be before the buds popped on the trees, since we had experienced more than enough bushwhacking in the last couple weeks on our Snutnadzeni (Bear Pt) Traverse and on our route finding forays to figure out how to cross Thunder Bird Creek.

Snow Hawk Road was looking dry, the buds were just starting to appear, and we were on a mission to get in some substantial miles, so we decided to go for it the long way. We opted to go point to point, starting at Klutina Drive → Bulldog Trail → Snow Hawk Road → off trail across Snow Hawk Valley → up Peak 1216 → Ship Creek Hill → out via Snow Hawk Valley Trail.

We had been skunked on Nunaka Point and on our backup plan of crossing Snow Hawk Valley exactly two months prior (to the day) due to chest deep snow. That day we hiked up to Snow Hawk Moutain, which, for the second time in a year, became an enjoyable and pleasant backup plan. Nothing was going to stop us this time, and when we had finished shuttling vehicles to the two trailheads, we strapped snowshoes and knee-high gaiters onto our packs and proceeded with a no quit attitude. Today would be the last day that I would obsessively bring up Ship Creek Hill and my intense desire to stand on its summit for the first time.

*I made sure we were checked into the correct open areas on JBERs RecAccess website (previously iSportsman). * The entirety of this hike is on military land and may be closed some or all days of the week for artillery or jump training. Not following this protocol or respecting the closures may result in severe injury, death, revocation of use privilege and/or prosecution for trespassing. There is no use allowed overnight (11pm-6am) so be sure to plan accordingly.

The Klutina Road trailhead is in a quiet neighborhood and no more than 2 vehicles fit in the designated parking zone. Please be respectful of neighbors and do not block the gate. We followed a narrow path for a little more than a quarter mile out to the Bulldog Trail where we turned left and followed it for about a mile and half. The Bulldog “Trail” is actually a wide road used by the military for access and training. Signs warning of unexploded ordinance warn of the danger of traveling off trail on military land.

As luck would have it, we had to leave the road to avoid a not yet angry, but very large female moose. She didn’t chase us down and we weren’t blown up, so we took that as a good omen for the day.

We came to the rudimentary roundabout and turned right, up the steep and winding Snow Hawk Road, which can be seen hugging the south side of Snow Hawk Mountain from the lowlands of the city of Anchorage. This road suddenly appeared on the mountainside back in 2020 and the access was restricted for years due to building and maintenance, but now, is a great alternative to climbing over The Dome to access the valley surrounded by Snow Hawk, Nunaka Point, Kanchee, Knoya and The Dome.

We trudged up the gravel road for a little more than 4 miles, ascending about 2300′ in the process. The tall buildings of downtown Anchorage were now only suitable for ants, and the small planes and helicopters (always helicopters… everywhere we go) were flying well below us. As it started to lightly snain, dozens of camouflaged ptarmigans made their gutteral, clucking courtship calls, sometimes visible as they flew toward a potential mate.

Rounding the corner on the back side of Snow Hawk Mountain, Ship Creek Hill and Peak 1216 came into view… and the wind appeared with them. We put on our warm gear, pulled out our sandwiches and pressed on, eager to see how much snow was still filling the valley between here and there. The wind continued to pick up… 20mph or more, a flashback to Rainbow, and we talked about skipping Peak 1216, quickly bagging SCH, and getting out of this wind sooner rather than later.

A short section of waist deep snow momentarily frustrated us, but the remainder of the walk down into Snow Hawk Valley turned out to be fairly pleasant.

We picked our way down the grassy hill, finding more ptarmigan, some still delicious, overwintered, high bush cranberries and then Snow Hawk Creek, which was easily crossed with no wet feet. We were in the lee of the wind and opted for a sit-down break before heading up to what we were sure was going to be a gusty couple of hours.

From here, Peak 1216 looked close and we decided it would be a travesty to not also tag the top of her. We had already traveled 6.5 miles and nearly 2400,’ but were feeling strong and were both excited to look down on Ship Creek Valley.

We ascended a mile and a half up grassy slopes dotted with patches of snow, low pine, and leafless trees. The wind returned, stronger than ever, and by the time we reached the rounded summit of Peak 1216, it was gusting more than 50mph. We were both thrilled to be there, but had a difficult time standing up, let alone taking in the view, so we got a couple of photos then hustled down the snow covered slope towards Ship Creek Hill.

For a moment, we were protected from the wind and took a moment to look down on SC Valley and across the valley to the “our” ridge between Triangle and Arctic Valley. We had always been proud of connecting that entire ridge and now we were achieving another goal that felt just as good.

After quickly tagging the overlook point to the west of 1216, we continued towards SCH, walking along the broad, pathless ridge to what, from this perspective, looked like an anticlimactic mound. Arctic Valley road visible to my right, I climbed around on the myriad of mini summit blocks to ensure I had hit the actual high point.

The wind was not letting up and I was being blown off my feet, but we weren’t letting up either.

After bagging the two peaks, we aimed towards the last goal; a point at the far end of SC Hill’s western ridge. The weather was getting even worse and the wind was stronger than ever. After a moment of looking down on the Anchorage bowl, we both agreed it was time to get out of there and began descending directly down the steep, yet snow free, southern slope.

Now protected from the wind, tucked between the shoulders of SCH and 1216, we stopped for a snack break, now 11 miles into our day. As we rested, the sun began to burn through the clouds and although it never fully succeeded, the filtered rays warmed us up.

Knowing we still had what could be the most challenging section ahead, we packed up our gear and descended back down to the creek, a mile downstream from where we had crossed earlier in the day, and ascended a small, but steep, grassy slope. All I knew is that there was supposed to be some semblance of a trail, although very overgrown, that would lead us back to the Ship Creek bridge where Jason’s car was parked.

Snow Hawk Valley Trail is notorious for being overgrown and muddy, sometimes impossible to find, but our experience was quite the opposite. Very soon after reaching the top of the slope, Jason found a lightly worn footpath complete with trail markers. Although we had to climb over some deadfall and do some minor trail finding, it was a pleasant walk. We found an old, burned down cabin, and, in the small section of mud, the sizeable track of bears, wolf, coyote and moose.

The grass was laid down and dead and the leaves were not open; not even a bud in sight, and although I could imagine this trail being difficult to navigate in full bloom, it was nothing like the horror show that most people report. We weren’t lucky, we were smart to have planned to go before the leaves opened and I would recommend the same timing for anyone who wants to explore this area.

The last mile and a half were easy walking. Someone had come through with a chainsaw and cleared out the downed trees. Nearly 15 miles in, we were thrilled to not have to do anymore climbing or straddling. Suddenly, a chain link fence appeared meaning we were just above the Ship Creek Dam and, after a short bushwack through the alders, we were on Oilwell Road, only a mile from the parking lot.

Turning back for a look at SCH and the now obscured and camouflaged trailhead, I proudly acknowledged another goal met, and two more peaks climbed. Ship Creek bridge and then Jason’s car appeared like an oasis in the desert, and we sunk exhaustedly and victoriously into the car seats, already trying to decide what our next peak would be.

PEak 1216 and Ship Creek Hill Peakbagger Links:

Ship Creek Hill

Peak 1216

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. Make sure to check for open zones in JBER RecAccess. It is $10 annual for an account. Be sure to sign in before entering. Do not trespass or camp illegally or it could mean the end of access for those of us who respect the rules.
  2. If you are going up or down Snow Hawk Valley Trail, do so early or late in the season. It is reportedly very difficult to navigate in the middle of the summer.
  3. There is an insane amount of wildlife in this area. Carry bear spray and be bear/wolf/coyote/moose aware. Make lots of noise when traveling below tree line.
  4. There is no camping in this area. All recreators must be off of JBER land between 11pm and 6am.
  5. Do not touch anything that could possibly be military ordinance (bombs, shells, ammo, missiles, etc.). If you find anything that is potentially unexploded, report it to the JBER authorities.

Recent Trip REports:

Lost and Found on Rainbow Peak

March 31, 2025 Mileage: 6.2 Miles (Including Northeast Ridge to Unnamed Point) Elevation Gain: 3700′ Chugach 120 #118 Chugach Front Range #25 Summit Elevation: 3543′ Rainbow Peak is a fun, scrambly hike that starts at sea level and tops out at 3543.’ This one is big bang for your buck if you’re looking for an…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Brocken Spectres and Nike Missiles: Rendezvous Ridge → Muktuk Marston Loop

September 21, 2024 Mileage: 8 Miles Elevation Gain: 2592′ Peak 1112 (3648′) Little Teton (4006′) Peak 3891 (3891′) Permits: Arctic Valley PArking PAss or Membership Pass It’s now the end of March 2025, and as I start planning for this summer’s adventures, one of my top mellow day hikes is definitely the Rendezvous Ridge/Muktuk Marston…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Racing the Termination Dust: A Fall Ridge Walk from Lazy Mtn to Peak 4199

September 29, 2024 Mileage: 8.6 Miles Elevation Gain: 4815′ Lazy Mountain (3740′) Peak 4199 (4199′) Permits: Mat-SU Borough Parking Pass REquired at Lazy Trailhead It was the second to last day of September, and the weather was holding out for one more low ridge traverse, though the termination dust had crept down close to the…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal

Misty Miles and Mountain Birds: A Storm King Scramble to Mitty Peak

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
April 20, 2025
Olympic NAtional Park, WA
Mitty Peak 2674′
Mileage: 4.4 Miles RT
Elevation Gain: 2400′

After 25 years, I finally had the opportunity to fly down to Seattle from Alaska to see one of my favorite bands of all time, Phish. I can’t travel without checking out a new hike, so I also planned a quick foray into Olympic National Park to climb Mitty Peak.

My legs and back were feeling all of my 45 years after dancing like a maniac for 4 hours straight on Saturday night, but I was bound and determined to summit the namesake of my favorite movie character, Walter Mitty. I woke early Sunday morning and made the 2.5-hour drive from my hotel in Seattle.

Typical of the Pacific Northwest, the weather changed by the minute as I turned north on the Olympic Peninsula. Sun, then rain… rinse and repeat. As I pulled into the Mt Storm King parking lot, I realized I had missed the ranger station but was pleasantly surprised to see I could pay for my pass with a QR code posted at the trailhead.

My $30 now securely in the hands of the National Park Service, I swung my pack onto my back and started off up the trail. The trailhead skirts past the now closed ranger station and into a tunnel under the road, although I didn’t see this, so I jumped the guardrail and linked up with the trail on the other side of the road.

The flat path felt nice on my tired legs, and I looked up in awe at the incredible size of the Firs and Cedars. Not long down the trail, I came to the turnoff for the Mt Storm King Trail, a small wooden sign pointing the way. It was time to go UP!

I was pretty beat after a long night, but the switchbacks on the east ridge made the climbing less strenuous, but still physically challenging. The rain came and went, and the sun was not interested in making an appearance, but I happily trudged on in the damp mist.

Eventually the trees thinned and Crescent Lake came into view, though the thick clouds still veiled the surrounding mountains. A sign denoting the end of the maintained trail, nailed to a tree, gave me hope that I was close to the final steep ascent to the summit. Gray Jays, opportunistic and brave birds, began to follow me, knowing there would be hand fed treats on the summit.

I carefully picked my way along a ridge with some significant exposure and up short, rocky chutes. The rain was making everything slippery and a fall in some of the areas could be fatal, so I walked carefully and with great care.

Soon the summit block was in sight, a high point devoid of vegetation and with nearly vertical faces dropping precipitously. A rope dangled down to assist in negotiating the final stretch to the peak, though I soon found it was actually a series of ropes leading around to the west side of the summit block. I hesitated to trust the janky, old ropes and opted to free climb up the slopes. I felt good about my decision to avoid the fixed lines when I saw that one of them had rubbed on its anchor to the point where it was fraying.

As I stood at the bottom of the last 20′ scramble, I hesitated. Starting up, I realized it was high consequence exposure and scurried back down to flat ground. I made a decision to call my hike there and head back down, but I didn’t feel right about it, so I turned back towards the peak, shut off my mind and scrambled up to the summit.

I breathed a sigh of relief before taking in the incredible view of Crescent Lake, suddenly ceilinged by patchy, blue skies and a rain free sky. I couldn’t have timed it any better. After taking some photos, the birds could wait no longer. No sooner had I opened a granola bar and held out my hand than the Gray Jays were circling and landing on me for a meal. One even landed on my phone as I filmed the scenery.

All of a sudden, I started to cry. My emotions were so big after a short 24 hours of healing music and hiking. I felt so at peace and so happy. I was exactly where I was meant to be and felt all of the gratitude.

Although I could have stayed longer, the weather started to move back in and the birds were bored of me, since I didn’t have any more food. I took in the view one more time and turned toward a faint footpath that skirts the summit to its north. I figured it would be easier than downclimbing the wet, steep, rocky summit block, but it definitely was not. Although it was in the trees and had roots for handholds, it was steeper than the front side and a fall would be just as serious here as there.

I made it to the bottom of the block safely, but muddier, and started back down the roped section. My confidence in full bloom, and I walked without the assistance of the ropes until I slipped on the ball bearing like rocks. I saw a steep drop below and hoped I would stop sliding before I went off the ledge. My hand instinctively reached out and I was able to grab the rope, stopping my potentially lethal fall. Needless to say, I used the ropes for the rest of the way down to make sure I didn’t make the same mistake.

I descended quickly to the forested section of trail in the pouring rain and began jogging down the switchbacks to the parking lot. I only half an hour, I was back at my rental car and changing into dry clothes. I turned up the heat and drove off with memories of an incredible experience in Olympic National Park.

Mitty Peak AllTrails & Peakbagger Links:

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. This trail has significant and high consequence exposure at the summit of Mitty Peak. Use caution all the time and remember it is more difficult to climb down than up.
  2. Many resources list this hike as “Mt Storm King” but the actual summit of Mt Storm King is miles further up the ridge. The overlook is listed as Mitty Peak by the USGS.
  3. Leave No Trace and pick up any trash you see on the trails. The limited staffing at the National Parks makes it almost impossible to keep everything clean unless we all pitch in.
  4. There is a $30 fee to enter the National Park. This fee is good for 7 days. Consider an America The Beautiful Pass if you plan to travel to more National Parks in the same year. There is a QR code posted at trailheads to pay the fee without stopping into the ranger station.

Recent Trip REports:

Exploring Eklutna Lake: A Winter Bikepacking Adventure

Eklutna Lake, Chugach State Park, Alaska March 8-9, 2025 Total Mileage: 17.6 Total Elevation Gain: ~1,000′ Permits: AK StatE PArks Annual Parking Pass The Plan I was going absolutely stir crazy. I hadn’t been camping since getting back from the Kalalau Trail at the end of January and I knew I was becoming unpleasant to…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Five Days of Heaven on the Trans-Catalina Trail

Catlina Island, California December 3 – 8, 2023 Total Mileage: 45 Total Elevation Gain: ~12,000′ Permits: Included with Campsite REservations The Plan It was summer 2023 and I was ready to make a plan for my next backpacking trip Outside of Alaska. The Kalalau Trail had traumatized me earlier that year, so I was looking…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Kalalau Trail: A Hiker’s Redemption Journey

January 26-29, 2025 NaPali Coast, Kauai, HI Mileage: 23 miles Out and Back Elevation Gain: ~6500′ Permits: Wiki Permits Rated by Backpacker Magazine as one the most dangerous hikes in the US and often considered one of the top 20 most dangerous hikes in the world, the Kalalau Trail is not for the faint of…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal

Beyond Bird Point and Into Technicolor Solitude: Bird Ridge Overlook

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
September 7, 2024
Mileage: 13.5 Miles
Elevation Gain: ~6700′
BRO (4625′) Chugach 120 #98
Bird PT (3505′) CHugach 120 #120
Permits: CSP Parking Fee
A person stands on top of a mountain peak looking at the mountains in the distance. The sky is partly cloudy, partly clear and the vegetation is bright with the fall colors.

The 2024 Alaska State Fair had come and gone, a sure sign that the dark winter was going to be closing in soon. Even though it was another rainy summer and a very busy work season, I had crammed in as many hikes as I could and was hoping for at least one more big one. Jason and I decided to head down the Seward Highway to the Bird Ridge Trailhead to finish something we had started.

April 2024 – Failure

We had been there earlier this year, in April, but had turned around less than a tenth of a mile from the summit of Bird Point because of snow, high winds and, frankly, mostly laziness. Throughout the summer, we frequently talked about our silly decision to fail to summit this easy peak… while having coffee at our camp at Hanging Valley Lake, while walking up the saddle above Long Lake on our way to summit Koktoya, and while sitting around the fire at our bikepacking camp at Eklutna Lake… It continued to eat at us all summer.

Preferring to avoid busy trails, I had only been up to Bird Point once before, but the conditions couldn’t have been more different from the day we turned back.

August 2020 – My First Time

On August 20, 2020, during the height of the pandemic and the beginning of my peakbagging passion, I had snuck away from my home office to meet up with my friend, V, to hike to iconic Bird Point. It was one of those incredible summer days that makes you forget about winter. We were treated to a view of the bore tide rushing up Turnagain Arm during a break on the ascent to the ridge, and an incredible sunset on our way down. Pure perfection.

SePtember 2024 – BEyond the Point to Bird Ridge Overlook

As is my style, if I fail, I make the next goal ten times bigger. This time we wouldn’t just be summitting Bird Ridge Point, where most hikers turn around, we would be continuing on along the ridge for another 5 miles to the summit of Bird Ridge Overlook. I had been obsessively pouring over beta and maps of this hike since April, and it was finally time. We had an incredible weather window, and it was a go!

I picked up Jason and we chatted away excitedly as we drove to the trailhead. We had been looking forward to redemption all summer and today was finally the day. We were ready to put the embarrassment and self-loathing of our April failure aside forever with this hike.

By 830am, we were already ascending through the trees, taking some time to look over at Indianhouse Mountain (Jason had just climbed it a couple of weeks prior) and Penguin Peak (the Penguin Traverse is on our list for 2025). Although we had brought jackets, it felt more like July than September, and we were in t-shirts before we had even gone a mile.

Bird Point Trail to the ridge is fairly steep, a direct uphill climb, and within a mile and half and in less than an hour, we were above the trees and at the bench, a memorial to a young man who had been mauled and killed by a bear during a mountain race in 2017. We had a long day ahead, but spent a moment paying our respects and making sure our bear spray was handy.

A half mile later we had reached the ridge, and although we were still a little less than half a mile from our first objective, the summit of Bird Ridge Point (3505′), we only had another 300′ to ascend to bag the first peak. The walking here was easy and comfortable, a big change from the snow covered, corniced, wind drifted trail we had trekked on in April. The weather on this day was pleasant and windless with some blue sky poking through high clouds.

Within two hours and 2.5 miles, we had reached the summit of Bird Point and a glance back towards Turnagain Arm, 3500′ below, made me appreciate the extent of the elevation gained. I don’t recall if we talked about our redemption, but I know we both felt much better now.

We continued along the ridge towards Bird Ridge Overlook, now visible about 4.5 miles in the distance. I was relieved to see that it appeared to be a “walk up” peak with gently sloping shoulders, the ridge meeting the mountain very close to its summit. I had read many trip reports and poured over topo maps so I had the impression it would be a relatively easy ascent, minus the long walk, but you never know until you go. From here, I could see that there was no extreme exposure or steep steps on the approach side of the summit, and I regretted not bringing my dog, Goose.

The trail beyond Bird Point is now one of my favorite hikes, an easy walk along the ridge that undulates gently up and down; tundra and rocks bordering the rarely used path. Besides one ~300′ “step” midway and the final section to the summit, it was gradual elevation gain, a truly gentle ridge.

I often had to jog to catch up with Jason after being hypnotized by the mountains surrounding us. I would imagine the tracks I would take up each mountain that I hadn’t yet summitted… North Yuyanq’Ch’ex, Homicide, South Powerline, Penguin, Nest, Esbay… and flashed back to memories of climbs I had done that I could now see from the perfect perspective… South Yuyanq’Ch’ex, The Ramp and Wedge, South Avalanche. I hadn’t set foot on any of the mountains to the east yet, but I would make sure that wouldn’t be the case by the end of the next season.

As the trail dropped just below the east ridge, just shy of ascending the midway “step,” we were treated to an explosion of color; vivid red, yellow and green tundra, a sure sign of the approaching winter, but also cementing this as a perfect fall hike.

We climbed up an easy 300,’ following the bootpath that traversed just below the rocky top of the midway step. The vegetation turned to muted tones of red and yellow, the black alpine lichen and chossy rock now dominating the hillside. The last couple of miles to the summit of BRO was now completely visible, the path meandering along the east side of the ridge, one more patch of vivid red lichen to traverse before cutting below the summit towards the southeast ridge. Only a couple of small patches of snow were still hanging in there on the south facing slopes, a testament to the previous winter’s deep snowpack. Again, I regretted not bringing Goose… no one loves summer snow more than he does.

I continued to be mesmerized by the surrounding mountains, more peaks making themselves visible the further we walked, and before long we were traversing below the summit of BRO. As we reached the southeast ridge, we were stopped in our tracks by a pair of ravens who were very interested in us, circling and cawing. I noticed one of them had white tips on its wings and took a moment to appreciate being here at this moment and feeling gratitude that this unique raven had decided to pay us a visit.

I turned uphill, the path now gone, and picked my way through the rocks and patches of tundra for the last 400′ to the summit. Although there is no trail, ascending was quick and easy, a choose your own adventure to the top.

As I summitted Bird Ridge Overlook, I audibly gasped. The view was incredible, with much of the Chugach Range in view. Countless mountains I had climbed surrounded us and I geeked out, naming as many as I could, from South Yu to South Avalanche to Koktoya to Rendezvous/Triangle Ridge and even as far out as Harp, Eagle River Overlook and Vista Peak. To the northwest, I traced the route we had taken on my birthday hike a couple of years before; up The Wedge and The Ramp, down into Ship Lake, around the NE ridge of the Avalanches and into Ship Creek Valley, turning south towards Indian, the trail then disappearing behind the smaller mountains below us.

To the north, I looked down into a valley, protected by a long ridge to the west and a short ridge to the east. The summit of BRO drops off steeply on the north face and a large teal blue no-name lake glimmered below, smaller lakes dotting the valley. I planned out my 2026 birthday backpacking trip then and there, a trek into this rarely seen valley from Indian to make camp, a perfect base for day hikes up 4055, Bidarka, 3505, Shaman Dome, The Wing, 4300… as many as we could get. I hoped for nice weather the week of July 4, 2026.

Jason and I took turns getting photos standing on a high, rocky outcropping, with an incredible backdrop of the backside of the Front Range. Jason found the summit register, a small, black pvc tube filled with soaked paper and leaky pens. I settled for submitting to the Peakbagger electronic register and we tucked the pvc tube back under the rock where it was found.

A final look at my new favorite view and I turned back to the south, Bird Ridge looking welcoming, an easy walk back to the summit of Bird Point. We decided to descend directly down the south/southwest ridge instead of following our ascent route and it went nicely, joining back up with the trail less than half a mile from the summit.

As we strolled along, backtracking on our footprints from earlier in the day, the sun began to shine, and the blue sky became brighter through the high clouds. The reds of earlier were now even more incredibly bright, a technicolor dreamscape.

Upon our return to the “step,” we decided to follow the ridge to its high point, veering off from the sidehill trail we had taken on the way out. I looked back at BRO and the path we had taken as the slopes of the ridge became bathed in full sunshine. Turning back towards Turnagain, Bird Point became visible, the fully treed northwest slope indicative of its lower elevation, with an 1,110′ difference between the two peaks.

We descended the step and made excellent time back to Bird Point, more than 11 miles into our hike. As we began to run into other hikers, I was silently (and sometimes not so silently) feeling smug about our accomplishment, having made it further on the ridge than anyone else that day. I have no shame when it comes to being proud of achieving new summits, especially those that are beyond the well traveled trails.

As we descending the final couple of miles to the parking lot, the clouds began to return, although a god ray shone down on the low tide of Turnagain Arm. Entering the tree line, we both checked for our bear spray and began making mention of how sore our legs and feet were… the easy ridge had spoiled us, the steep descent became the biggest physical challenge of the day.

We finally reaching the paved pathway and, soon after, the truck. We both happily peeled off our shoes and socks for the relief of sandals and drove away with both redemption and future plans.

BRO/BRPT AllTrails and Peakbagger Links:

Bird Ridge Point AllTrails

Bird Ridge Overlook AllTrails

Bird Point Peakbagger

Bird Ridge Overlook Peakbagger

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. Be Bear Aware. This is prime bear country. A young man was fatally mauled by a black bear during a running race in 2017. Take a moment to rest at the memorial bench located about halfway up to Bird Point. Carry bear spray and know how to use it.
  2. Although I had left my dog at home because I wasn’t sure what the trail was like, this one is great for dogs. No exposure until the very summit of BRO. Remember, though, it is a long hike and there are no water sources along the way. Carry plenty of water for yourself and your pup.
  3. It is likely that there will be no other hikers beyond Bird Point and there is limited or no cell phone reception. Carry an InReach and know how to use it, especially if traveling alone.
  4. Leave No Trace. Pick up any trash you may see along the way.

Recent Trip REports:

Alone in the Grand Canyon: Cowboy Camping Under the Stars

Day 5 – Cottonwood To Cremation canyon 12 Miles, -2000′, +1600′ December 3, 2024 I started the day by packing up my sleeping bag, pad and inflatable pillow while thinking about how my choice of sleeping gear had been perfect so far. I’ve had the same sleeping bag for over a decade, an absolute workhorse.…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal

Lost and Found on Rainbow Peak

by Rebecca Charles, posted in Alaska Peakbagging
March 31, 2025
Mileage: 6.2 Miles

(Including Northeast Ridge to Unnamed Point)

Elevation Gain: 3700′
Chugach 120 #118
Chugach Front Range #25
Summit Elevation: 3543′

Rainbow Peak is a fun, scrambly hike that starts at sea level and tops out at 3543.’ This one is big bang for your buck if you’re looking for an early season break-in hike or to level up your scrambling skills with minimal exposure and mostly low consequence terrain.

A pointy summit is 3500' above and the slopes are holding patches of snow. One car is parked in the long parking lot
A blue profile of the elevation gain rises and drops steeply
A map with a track in the shape of a very tall "T".
Topo map showing the T shaped route we took
Topo map showing the T shaped route we took

The summit ridge can be dangerous in icy or inclement conditions, as the southeast face is fairly exposed, and the northwest face can be avalanche prone or hardpack ice. A slip and fall on either side would not end well, although most of the ridge is wide and protected. Its best to go in the summer if you are nervous about heights or your ability to navigate on icy terrain.

Due to the loose rock and scree slopes and the steepness of some of the terrain, dogs should not be brought on this hike. I had made the mistake of bringing Goose back in 2021 and although he had no problem with the scramble sections, I did have to be careful of him kicking down large rocks on me or other hikers as we ascended the scree slopes to the summit ridge. I also almost had a heart attack when he stood right on top of the narrow, high point, all four paws seemingly balanced on one toe, a 300+’ drop below. Anyway, leave your dogs at home for this one.

I picked up Jason at 9am and we drove to the Rainbow Trailhead on the Seward Highway, a decent sized lot with a perfect view of the mountain. It was a little breezy near the highway, but we were soon in t shirts, heading northwest on the Turnagain Arm Trail on a mellow climb through the trees. We crossed Rainbow Creek and an unnamed creek, both spanned with stable bridges.

A sign denotes Chugach State Park Rainbow Trailhead with mileages for the Turnagain Arm Trail. It alerts that bicycles and fires are not permitted.
A wooden bridge crosses a small stream
A rocky dirt path weaves through leafless tress while climbing uphill
Rainbow Peak rises high above, seen through a forest with leafless trees
A small map on a wooden post with mileages of the Turnagain Arm Trail. A red arrow points to our location.
A hiker crosses a small footbridge, approaching 9 steps built with wooden retaining boards
A hiker walks on a root strewn trail surrounded by leafless trees. The ocean is visible below and to the left

It didn’t take long to travel the 1.1 miles and 850′ to the Rainbow Trail intersection on the wide and nicely maintained trails, but that was about to change. The Rainbow Peak Trail is unmarked and is easily missed, so keep an eye out to your right for one of two rocky trails that seem to climb vertically into the trees. That’s your route.

We immediately began climbing upward, using our hands to pull ourselves up on trees and when the trees turned to tundra, we gripped overhead rocks to continue to gain the elevation. The first “step” on the southeast ridge is about 3/10 of a mile long but gains another 850.’ The scrambling is fun and low consequence, mostly protected with little chance of a long fall, although it is important to remember that any fall can lead to major injury or worse.

A hiker is taking a photo from an overlook spot. Snowcapped mountains rise in the background
Clouds and blue sky mix above the Turnagain Arm ocean water. The highway is below and snowcapped mountains rise up across the ocean.
A hiker climbs up a steep, narrow and rocky path
A hiker stands atop a steep, rocky section of trail
A hiker negotiates a steep, rocky path. Snowcapped mountains rise up at the end of the valley
A hiker negotiates a steep, rocky path.
A hiker stands midway up a steep, rocky slope. He is smiling and looking off into the distance.
A hiker negotiates a steep, rocky path.
Teh author is climbing up a steep, rocky slope. The ocean and a road is visible below.

We topped out onto a rocky, tundra covered plateau, which offers the first full view of the mountain from above tree line. The ramped summit, surrounded by rocky outcroppings and ridges running southwest and northeast, is neighbored by a large scree bowl to the northeast. We would be traversing under the summit to the right and then would ascend in a scree slope choose your own adventure route.

A hiker climbs up a vertical rock face.
A rocky summit rises up from a valley
A rocky summit rises up out of tree line
A hiker stands atop the vertical rock face, looking down to take a photograph.
A panorama including the summit of Rainbow Peak and the U-shaped ridge leading back to a steep dropoff down to the highway. The ocean is below and snowcapped mountains rise up in the distance. A hiker is taking a photo.
Facing down toward the ocean and the lower plateau of the trail, a steep, rocky chimney shaped trail drops off steeply
A hiker climbs up a vertical rock face.
A hiker stands below the summit section of the mountain.
A hiker negotiates a steep, rocky section of trail.
A hiker climbs up a rocky slope. The summit is not far above.
A hiker blends into the rocky, steep slope. The trail is narrow and rocky.
The rocky summit rises above scree slopes
A hiker stands on a narrow, rocky trail that drops off steeply to the right. Snowcapped mountains are visible in the distance. Snow is blowing off the summit of a peak far in the distance.
The rocky summit rises above scree slopes
A hiker stands on a rock and looks up at the summit.
The author standing in front of a mountain peak

2/10 of a mile after reaching the plateau, we were once again scrambling up mini chimneys and along rocky outcroppings, sometimes choosing a more challenging route just for the fun of it. 3/10 of a mile and just shy of 700′ later, we were at the base of the summit blocks, beginning our traverse to the right (northeast) along a faint path.

A hiker climbs up a rocky slope, dotted with mosses and shrubs. The summit is not far above.
The summit of Rainbow Peak is a pointy rock on the left. It drops away to a long ridgeline on the right. The trail is now above the pine trees.
A hiker walks up a narrow dirt footpath. The summit is above. Vegetation dots the slopes.
The author is standing on one foot and touching her nose. She is high up next to a steep dropoff, the ocean is below
Midway up the second rocky step. Facing back down the trail towards the small plateau between the two steps. The ocean and the highway are far below. Snowcapped mountains rise up across Turnagain Arm
A hiker stand high on a rock looking up at the summit. Snow is blowing off of the peak.
A hiker walks towards the scree slopes. He is touching one of the many large rocks along the path.
A hiker climbs up a steep, rocky trail. The summit is above and has snow blowing off of the high point.
The author taking a selfie in front of the summit blocks.
The author standing on a knob with the ocean and snowcapped mountains in the background
A hiker stands and smiles, the summit rising above in the background.

Traversing below the summit and then the summit ridge, the slope to the right drops steeply to Rainbow Valley, sections of loose rocks and snow were interspersed with a solid and stable bootpath. Once we reached the first scree chute leading to the summit ridge, we sat down for a snack break and to take in the views of Turnagain Arm below and South Yuyanq’Ch’ex up to the left. Tortilla Chip Point taunted us from across the valley and we spoke of linking the entire ridge in a giant loop, from Rainbow to South Yu to Tortilla Chip.

A hiker starts walking along the scree slope. The summit rises above to the left.
A hiker traverses along a steep scree slope. Snow covered mountains are in the distance along the u-shaped ridge.
A hiker traverses a rocky section of the steep slope.
A gray bootpath is visible across the first part of the scree slope below the summit
A hiker stand on a rocky section of the steep slope below the summit ridge,
A hiker walks along a snowy slope that drops steeply off to the right. He is throwing a snowball back over his head towards the photographer.
A gray bootpath is visible across the first part of the scree slope
Facing back along the trail from the steep scree slope below the summit. The scree slope drops off steeply to the left and the ocean and highway are far below.
Standing on the scree slope just below the ridge facing towards the summit. The second step and the ocean are below.
A hiker is standing on the scree slope just below the ridge facing towards the summit. The second step and the ocean are below.

The wind was starting to pick up and spindrift and blowing snow was a good indication we would be in 40+mph gusts, so we donned our warm layers and started directly up the chute to the ridgeline. There is also the option to continue on the traverse and ascend to the ridge anywhere along the scree bowl, but we opted for the direct route up.

A hiker ascends a steep, rocky slope. The summit ridge is not far above.
A hiker stands below a vertical, rocky slope.
Standing on the scree slope just below the ridge facing towards the summit. The second step and the ocean are below.
A hiker is standing on the scree slope just below the ridge facing towards the summit. The second step and the ocean are below.
Snow dots the final stretch of the ascent of the scree slope leading to the summit ridge
A hiker walking up the final feet to the summit ridge. Only a short section of snow to cross.
Facing down the steep scree field towards the ocean.
The summit rises up beyond a small snowfield and a short summit ridge.

We traveled with the awareness of rockfall, most likely caused by your partner, and staggered our routes up the last hundred or so feet to a small patch of snow that led to the ridge. As soon as we crested, the wind hit us like a freight train and we were immediately glad we had put on our gear before feeling the full force of the wind. One slip of the fingers and a nice jacket could be lost to the gales.

The ridge was covered in hardpacked snow, the northwest face of the mountain icy and white. A slip that direction would make for a long slide down. The southeast face falls away below a vertical dropoff to the screefield and I walked with effort to not be blown that direction by the violent gusts of wind. I could imagine how someone could be “blown off a mountain,” as is written about in the high-altitude mountaineering books that I consume with an insatiable appetite.

A hiker walking up the last snowy section before achieving the summit ridge.
A hiker walks next to rocky outcroppings on the summit ridge.
A hiker walks next to rocky outcroppings on the summit ridge.
A hiker takes a photo while standing on the summit ridge. The summit is not far. Snow covers the shaded slopes on the right side of the photo.
A hiker stands high atop a rock. The steep, shaded slopes are covered in snow and fall away to a sunny valley.
A hiker stands atop a point just below the summit. The ocean and highway are far below.
A snowy path leads the last short distance to the summit. The ocean is far below. A volcano is far in the distance across the ocean.
A hiker negotiates the final ascent to the summit. The trail is snow covered, but packed down from prior travelers.

The footpath through the snow got icier and the wind go gustier, so I opted to stop for a second to put on my microspikes. Now feeling much better with some traction on my feet, I fought the wind and ascended to the summit block of Rainbow Peak. Jason was up on the rock with the highest prominence during a small reprieve from the wind and I hurried him to get down so I, too, could get a summit photo and then get out of there.

A person in a bright orange jacket clings to a rock on the summit of a mountain, battered by high winds
A steep, snow covered slope rises to the summit of Rainbow Peak.
The author is wearing bright clothes while putting on microspikes. The ocean is 3500' below
A person stands on top of a mountain summit, the ocean below and a mountain range on the other side of the inlet. Snow swirls around the hiker.
The author descending from the snowy and rocky summit of Rainbow Peak
A long shadow of the photographer stretches down the sunny, snow covered slopes. Another mountain rises up in the background.
A hiker climbs the final snow and rocky feet to the summit.
A hiker climbs the final snow and rocky feet to the summit.

As soon as I climbed up, the strongest gust of wind of the day nearly blew me off the rock. I ducked down and held on until the gust passed over us, before sliding down off the high point, taking a photo of Jason and then hustling back down the ridge.

As soon as we were below the summit the winds relented a bit, and we decided to walk the half mile to the unnamed bump at the top of the far end of the scree field. The wide ridge makes for excellent walking with little elevation gain or loss to the unnamed bump. Just before the final ascent to the top of the bump, Jason realized he had lost his phone, likely below the summit of Rainbow, where the wind had calmed, and he had stripped a layer. I assured him we would find it, but first we would climb the last few feet of the bump.

A person stands on a high rock in front of a tall mountain ridge.
A selfie of the author with her friend in the background waving. Standing on the snow covered ridge. Mountains rise up in the distance.
A hiker starts walking along the summit ridge towards a rocky bump at the far end of the top of the scree slope.
A hiker walks along a snowy ridgeline towards a high point of rock
Facing back towards Rainbow summit. A faint path through the snow drops down onto the scree slope below.
A hiker stands on rocks piled up on the summit ridge.
Snow dots the ridgeline leading to a rocky bump.
A hiker traverses the scree slope heading towards the bump on the ridge.
A hiker traverses the scree slope heading towards the bump on the ridge.
A hiker travels the final section of the wide ridge towards a rocky bump.
Two neighboring snow-covered peaks rise up behind the ridge.
Facing back along the rocky ridge to the summit of Rainbow Peak

Standing on this high point, we scoped out the ridge beyond, agreeing it looked doable and would be on our 2025 bucket list to encircle the entire Rainbow Valley on the ridge, but we would have to wait for the snow to melt out more before attempting it.

We turned back along the ridge and made it back to where we had stopped, Jason’s phone laying right where I thought it would be. A sign of relief and we were off… time to descend back down the scree slope and back to the high traverse. We picked a steep scree chute and started down one at a time to avoid kicking rocks down on each other. When Jason would get behind rocks for protection, I would start down the slope, and I assure you Jason was waiting longer for me than I was for him!

A hiker walks back towards Rainbow Peak on the rocky ridge
A hiker stands overlooking the lower steps of the Rainbow Peak Trail. The ocean and highway are far below.
A panorama of the McHugh Ridgeline. The author's shadow is projected onto the snowy slope.
A scree slope drops steeply down to sea level from 3000'
Two hikers way off in the distance descending the second step. Mountains across the inlet rise up to snow capped peaks.
A hiker descends a steep scree chute.
The author and her friend are sitting on top of a steep slope holding up sandwiches and smiling. The ocean is below and mountains rise up across the inlet.
The author is high up on the ridge, slowly picking her way down through the rocks
Facing back up towards the summit ridge.
Facing down a steep scree slope towards the ocean
The author is descending through steep, rocky terrain

We sat down for a lunch break of sandwiches, Jason enjoying a homemade breakfast sandwich while I inhaled a gas station ham and cheese. We were once again completely protected from the wind and were able to enjoy the view again without being sandblasted with snow.

We took our time on the way down, my heel ripped had been ripped open by my ski boot on an outing a few days prior and was not doing well. I could feel my shoe getting lubricated with blood, streaming down through two layers of hydrocolloidal pads. I wasn’t limping, but I knew I would need a few days off to get it healed up.

Across the traverse, down the top step of scrambling, down the mini chimney, across the plateau, down the bottom step, down the ball bearing rock slope, finally getting spit out onto the wide and flat Turnagain Arm Trail. Still not having seen a bear, we made good time back to the truck, now surrounded by a dozen other vehicles.

Returning along the traverse trail towards the second step.
Returning along the traverse trail towards the second step.
Returning along the traverse trail towards the second step.
Facing back up the rocky slope to the summit ridge
Returning along the traverse trail towards the second step.
Returning along the traverse trail towards the second step.
Facing down the rocky slope towards the ocean
A hiker takes a picture from the bottom of a steep, rocky step.
A hiker uses his hands to balance while descending a steep section of trail. The ocean is below.
A hiker stands on a flat section with a dark, dirt path leading to some sparse shrubbery.
A hiker walking down a rocky path. The ocean and highway are more than 1,000' below the surface
A hiker walks down a narrow, rocky path next to pine trees and leafless branches of alders. The ocean is now much closer.
A hiker navigates an extremely steep slope.
Standing on a wide, level path. The ocean less than 800' below
A small waterfall flows over downed trees and rocks. The moss is turning bright green, but the ground around is all brown and still dead.
A wooden bridge crosses a small stream

Peeling off my socks and shoes, I slid my feet into my slippers for the long drive home, ready for a bath and a big dinner, thrilled to have revisited one of my favorite places after nearly 4 years of absence. We will be back again as soon as the ridges are snow free to accomplish what I am calling the Rainbow Cirque Traverse.

I dropped off Jason and drove home in silence, thinking about how lucky I am to experience these incredible mountains in the Chugach Range.

Rainbow AllTrails and Peakbagger Links:

Read More Trip Reports

Just the Tips:

  1. DO NOT BRING DOGS. They can be dangerous to other hikers, as there is a great deal of loose rock. The jagged rocks are tough on their feet, and you may end up with a dog with severe foot injuries. There is also some scrambling that many dogs may not be able to do. It’s best to just leave them home.
  2. Be Bear Aware. This is prime bear country. Carry bear spray and make lots of noise .
  3. Do not leave valuables in your vehicle at the trailhead.
  4. Bring gloves, even during the summer. They can help prevent cuts and can aid in grip for scrambling.
  5. Be aware of hikers below you and try not to kick rocks down on anyone. If you do, yell “rock!” to alert hikers below of the danger.

Recent Trip REports:

Alone in the Grand Canyon: Rest Day

Day 3 – Rest Day December 1, 2024 It became apparent immediately after I woke up that I would be taking a rest day and saving my day hike to the North Rim for tomorrow. I unzipped my tent and tried to stand. The overpacking had finally caught up to me. My legs were locked…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Alone in the Grand Canyon: Crossing the Colorado

Day 2 – Cremation to Cottonwood Camp 12 Miles, -1600′, +2000′ November 30, 2024 I woke before the daylight, rested and excited to see what was to come. As the pink clouds signaled the rising of the sun, I made some coffee and oatmeal and ate and drank as I broke down camp. There are…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Alone in the Grand Canyon: Descending into History and Time

Day 1 – South Kaibab Trailhead to Cremation Canyon 6.5 Miles, -3600′ November 29, 2024 The day had finally come! I had arrived in Phoenix the afternoon prior, picked up my rental car and drove north. I left the 80-degree heat and arrived in Flagstaff 3 and 1/2 hours later. I was now at an…

Rebecca Charles's avatar by Rebecca Charles

Restless Trekker

Legal