Uniquely Theo

I was determined to do a decent hike so day three became the Bartlett River Trail day. I was absolutely NOT astounded when I  parted the curtains upon arising to discover there was a steady stream of wet projectiles descending upon  the already drenched soil of Glacier Bay. I said to myself: “How fortunate  you are Theo to be able to experience the Bartlett River Trail in this temperate rain forest during a day when a rain forest  is doing what it does best. RAIN, RAIN, RAIN.” And that it did for the entire 5.88 miles and  4 hours and 20 minutes I slogged on through this.

Now I was well dressed, I thought. I would keep my feet dry by putting plastic bags over my double socks in my trail shoes. However the zip-lock variety was all I had available, so they would have to do. I had a base layer of light weight polyester underwear under my hiking pants which were under my 15 year old rain pants. My top was layered with polyester under shirt, a long sleeve t-shirt, a shell vest, and my bright pink flannel lined rain jacket which I had patched the hole in it with silver tape. I had a visor hat to keep the rain out of my eyes. My daypack was not waterproof but I put everything in a plastic bag inside of it, including snacks, extra clothing, a warm cap and gloves. I headed out with the spirit of adventure, feeling a bit mummified given how thickly I had wrapped myself, but was grateful at least today I wasn’t carrying a heavy backpack or returning to a tent.

To reach the Bartlett River Trail,  I hiked out via Tlingit Trail. This was a easy stroll on a well maintained gravel path along the shoreline passing the Tlingit Tribal House and Raven and Eagle totems..

 Upon reaching the trail head, my l intention was to hike the 8 mile round trip trail to Bartlett Lake.  I merrily (though that feeling stayed only for a very brief moment) headed out but after the first half mile of jutting rocks, the complex webs of spruce roots, and puddles ankle deep, I knew it best to take the shorter Bartlett River Trail lest, at the pace I was moving forward, I would chance missing my plane the next afternoon and be charged an extra day for not checking out by noon. I really did not want to spend a night inhabiting the Tongass National Forest. This is a noteworthy choice since more often than not I do not make rational decisions. I prefer to be bullheaded and emotional and forge on. But I think that was probably the only reasonable decision of the day. By now I was also beginning to think that perhaps my solo jaunt into this wilderness wasn’t necessarily a wises choice since there were not throngs of hikers like the conga lines I experienced in Rocky Mountain National Park. Grasping at anything to validate my choice to continue solo, there was a group of about a 10 people headed out the trail to fish and there were in the first 1/2 mile two different couples returning from a much earlier morning hike. I concluded that perhaps this is after all a well traveled trail. I reasoned that if a root or a rock thwarted my forward momentum, I would not languish out there never to be found in this cell phone free wilderness. However , thereafter I saw nary a soul and might well have had to crawl out of this forest of dripping leaves and rotting trees should I turn an ankle or incur some other injury.

I had been  asked “aren’t you worried about bears ?” This is definitely bear territory.  Brown Bears (grizzly) occur in the Alaskan rainforest in densities that are unrivaled anywhere.  My thought process (probably convoluted thinking) was ”NO”  because this is the time of year when the salmon are plentiful and I imagine  that any bear would certainly prefer to be down by the water fattening up on those fresh salmon fillets, preparing  for their long winters sleep instead of foraging in the forest for a few measly low calorie berries and come upon me. Since I am writing this post hike, you already, I am sure,  have assumed that I neither got attacked by a grizzly  nor did I fall prey to the raised root and tripping rock hazards with my broken body needing  to be carried out and languish in a hospital.

Actually hiking in this  rain forest was a truly amazing experience in so many ways. Think about the herbaceous vegetation, under an old growth canopy of tall old coniferous trees, that one witnesses on the forest floor: the humus, understory of mosses, mushrooms, fungi, lichen, ferns and some shrubs and berries.

First it was amazingly  brutal for there were very few areas for each footfall in which there were not entwined roots, rocks, moss, algae, slick mud, and waterholes to pick my way through. Now for the fleet of foot this would not be as daunting but for an older adult (who has already broken an ankle and a hip) with osteoporotic  bones it might not end too well should I pitch forward , sideways or even backwards when I got it in my head to leap, swagger,  prance,  flounce or trot  about through the mass of roots in this fairy forrest. So proceeding cautiously (which I am not know for), I at first took on the challenge of avoiding sloshing through  the puddles as much as possible  – an almost impossible  endeavor –  until I realized how absurd this was because I had the clear sensation of wet feet and assumed I now had very leaky plastic bag liners.

But by inching ahead so slowly I could begin to really appreciate the dramatic landscape that a rain forest is. The forest floor is covered with ferns and mosses, and epiphytes abound (mosses, lichens, ferns, and other plants that grow on other plants.) 

Mosses were every where crawling up the trunks and out on the limbs, hanging down from the branches,  hugging just about every surface, enveloping every stump, coating rocks, fingering ferns, carpeting the forest floor, sponging up nutrient and water, basting the bark of trees…these robust soggy mini-forests are lush pioneers that can just grow about anywhere in the rainforest and oft are the first to colonize an area.

The root base of tipped trees I found eerily haunting. Because of shallow soils and high water tables, the roots of very tall trees  do not often extend deeper than 24 inches into the soil so they thus are particularly prone to tipping over during the windy and rainy fall season when soils are saturated. Stumps and downed trees proliferated and were rotting back into the ground or standing sentry in their green velvet coats. They seemed stalwart if doing their job of decaying and decomposing to provide feed for   the detritivore community.

I had read that fallen trees in a temperate rainforest are known as “nurse logs” because they provide shelter, nutrients and in some cases a platform on which young trees can grow.

I marveled at the myriad of stumps and logs raggedly rotting back into the ground. About one mile into the hike, I experienced a loud “thwunk” 6 inches in front of me. A good sized chunk of rotting wood from a tree above  had come barreling down and on impact exploded into chips fit for a good garden mulch. I was thanking that mysterious guardian angle of mine that it was not my head that got cracked and had I not tarried for a couple seconds at some point it most likely would have been. This did give me pause to think about this other unforeseen danger hiking in this weeping rainforest. In fact this rainforest was totally distraught and sobbing heavily. But not to be derailed the wild tree climbing  child in me  took over and soldiered on.

They were hard to ignore and I was fascinated by the conks which are  shelf-like fungal growths of artistic beauty on trees (aka shelf fungi or bracket fungi) and are  members of the fungus kingdom which includes mushrooms, molds, and yeast. Unlike mushrooms, most conks are inedible because they are tough and corky or woody. They can be seen growing on tree trunks and limbs, stumps, fallen logs  and are important recyclers in forest ecosystems in the process of decomposing woody material.  Some were “hatless” and others wore cloches of moss and lichen. Cloaks of lichens also were draped over many other surfaces and varied from bright green to olive drab. 

Mushrooms have a captivating appearance. I wonder what these open parasols were sheltering whatever creatures might be hunkering down to wait out the drizzle. Other s were inverted parasols catching the raindrops creating a shimmering pool. They could be seen dotting the rain swollen floor with a diversity of shapes size and colors and hues.

The shimmering veil of rain continued when this forest trail ended at an estuary near the mouth of the Bartlett River.  I made the executive decision to stop here as I could already tell that I would be mired in deep mud should I have proceed a few hundred feet more to the actual mouth of the river. Wet is one thing but mud oozing into my shoes was not a necessary part of this rain forest experience. So it was time to plunk down on a large lichen covered boulder , with much of my “carefully wrapped” body draped in sodden attire and attempt to enjoy a lunch which was also getting quite sodden as I tried transporting the food to my mouth. The most successful piece of attire I had chosen was my visor in keeping the rain off my face. Water had dripped down into the arms of the raincoat every time I went to take a photo. My whole backside by now felt wet as I discovered that those ancient rain pants had split open.

Hiking out I plodded along with the drumbeat of the rain on the forest canopy and understory. The steady beat would have been totally mesmerizing had I not been quite aware that I was wobbling a bit like a Weeble and did not want to fall down. My legs were tired so I tried focusing on this living cathedral of towering trees, on the the diverse tapestry of the forest floor, and assessing the deeping puddles obscuring the obstacles ahead. In this type of immersion other folks have talked of a spiritual experience or a sacred moment in a lush and fecund forest, this waterfall from heaven. With the air solidly full of water, I was picturing fish swimming in the tree tops, hearing a torrential cacophony, and thinking about a hot shower back at the Lodge.

Upon my return, having had natures bath, I immediately climbed into the bathtub to strip out of my saturated clothes, stuffed them into a plastic bag, took a delicious hot shower , and then headed out to the “public laundromat” next to the lodge. I did not savvy either putting on these soppy clothes tomorrow should I need them or filling my suitcase with dripping, waterlogged apparel. This” laundromat” was not what I had expected but I did end up with dry gear. Now for a pricy well earned dinner in the Lodge, my mouth agape as I peered out the window of the dining room at blue skies!