After having gone backpacking, and in particular, after the Hilton Creek Lakes trip with friends, the husbands wanted to introduce their wives to the wilderness, far away from anything accessible by car. So, I drummed up interest for this paddle excursion and secured reservations and permits in May, a full…
This trip was planned months ago, and we had missed getting permits for the original weekend. This date was our backup, but it turned out to be better now, when the Arizona summer has transitioned to more fall-like. My backpacking buddy Brad, his dad Val, and sons Grant and Max…
The Water and Clouds of the Xiao and Xiang Rivers (瀟湘水雲) was composed by Guo Mian (郭沔, c. 1190–1260). He was a qin player from coastal Zhejiang (浙江), and I’d find out that he and my wife share the same ancestral hometown of Yongjia, Wenzhou (温州市永嘉县). As a famed guqin…
It’s been a year since we last went backpacking, and the kids have been looking forward to this trip. They are growing up, and they can have more freedom on this trip. The night before our trip, I put all the kids to bed an hour early, since we have an early morning start to a long car ride and hike.
We’re all looking forward to an upcoming paddling trip, from the Hoover Dam down through the Black Canyon, visiting hot springs on the side. A few weeks ago, I had given some of the novices a tutorial, and not, it’s time to try it out on the water. Mountain Oak…
It’s a sunny Friday morning. We had driven up the day before and camped at Rock Creek Lake, a beautiful spot surrounded by pines and aspens that are just beginning to glimmer gold. The hike to Hilton Creek Lake #2 is five miles according to the map. We set out first, while Kendrick, Rakesh, Kara, Aaron, Noah, and Suri will join us later.
The first light of dawn peeks through the trees, nudging me awake from nine solid hours of sleep. There’s no rush, but we know we need to finish breakfast and hit the trail soon—Brad has a plane to catch. Breakfast is familiar but satisfying, with an extra treat of honey packets we saved from yesterday.
“The sun is up,” Brad’s voice jolts me.
I leap out of my sleeping bag, jump out of the tent, grab my wide-angle lens, and crank down the aperture. I race along the shores of Lake 11,400’, chasing the border where light meets shadow, trying to capture perfect sun stars. As I reach the southern shore, I snag a double star—one behind Mt. Tyndall, and the other mirrored in the lake below. The rising sun begins to burn off the morning dew, and wildflowers open up to embrace the warmth. I switch to my macro lens, capturing delicate details.
Breakfast is the same, yet somehow it gets better each morning—hearty oatmeal mixed with honey, pour-over coffee, and scones that hit the spot.
Sunbeams dance on the stream like shards of glass, casting shades of amber, emerald, and turquoise. The inlet at Golden Bear Lake flows stronger today, a subtle shift from yesterday’s calm. We know today’s going to be tough, so we pack up, soaking in the last views of this stunning basin.
The lake is still, like a mirror in the morning light. Around dawn, I poke around with my macro lens to find suitable subjects, looking for details that often go unnoticed. Then, we have a simple but satisfying breakfast: oatmeal with honey , scones with pour-over coffee. I had made the contraption to hold the filter paper, and grounds were pre-measured from home: 35 g of beans to 560 cc of water.
At last, Brad and I are standing at the Onion Valley trailhead on this very overdue trip. Way overdue. We had talked about doing such a trip off and on over the years—for nine years, to be exact. Only now has it materialized.
The kids are getting more and more trail time. Two years ago, we did one uphill mile each day, with two miles hiking out. Last year, we did two miles with a lot of elevation gain. Now, we’re going to tackle more than five miles. The last week has been…
This started two years ago, when I first drew up the plans, since everything I found on the internet for skin-on-frame were single kayaks. Daphney wanted a tandem, so drafting was the only way. I modeled it after drawings of some fast tandems and tested buoyancy and stability curves on software. The project had fits and starts, partly due to my schedule as well as motivation. Thankfully, I had a covered section of the house where I could leave the project in progress.
Anticipation Excitement builds. Daphney and Jayden can’t wait. Last year’s backpacking trip felt like a proud accomplishment. This will be a trip bigger than the last, and this will be Myles’s first such trip. It’s Friday evening of Labor Day weekend. Yan and I are doing some final packing. “We’re…
This morning, the kids gather sticks and cones during breakfast, anticipating another fire. We don’t have much time for a real one, so I douse everything with some leftover sanitizer and introduce them to the brief but huge flames of ignited alcohol. Down the road, we see a moose running in the brush. Yan and I switch spots, and I get out my camera. It’s an elusive apparition, now vanished into the forest.
We have a hearty breakfast at Prey again, then we pack up everything to head into the park. Tonight, we’ll be camping. Arriving at the bus depot, we learn that the next bus availability is at 12:30, and it only goes to mile 43, since the rest of Park Road is closed due to mudslides. We first tour the visitor center and watch two films: one about sled dogs and another about Denali. We buy the last of our Alaska Geographic patches: first Klondike, then Glacier Bay, Kenai Fjords, Wrangell-St. Elias, and finally, Denali.
I’m the first to get up, just before sunrise, while the northerly summer pre-dawn sky glows orange and the distant mountains look purple. Breakfast is a combination of oatmeal with toppings and scrambled eggs for protein. Jayden devours the eggs, but Daphney laments that the eggs don’t taste as good as the free-range ones from home. Retracing the Denali Highway, we parallel the Alaska Range, this time to our left. At a pull-out, we step out onto a small outcrop and take in the expanse—pristine Sevenmile Lake, the vast alpine tundra, glacial streams, and snow-capped peaks that punch into the sky. After a quiet moment, we have to leave.
To save driving time, this day is planned around the Whittier-Valdez ferry. We line up then make it through the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel and arrive in town. I check in with the ferry, and after queuing up, we grab lunch at Varly’s Swiftwater Seafood Café. All they have is fried food: zucchini, onion rings, fish and chips.
Early in the morning, we get breakfast at the lodge and pack up for departure. While no doubt the bear viewing and scenery are highlights of the trip, we are happy to leave this place infested with mosquitoes and white sock flies. After breakfast, we pack up and take the water taxi to King Salmon. The King Salmon airport is packed. The previous leg from Anchorage was nearly an empty flight, but now the waiting room is filled with fishermen wanting to leave. The few women there are tourists. The guys behind us describe how this year’s fish prices are terrible, roughly a quarter of what they normally make.
We disembark onto a private bus. There are a few others with us. Making our way through the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel, we soon arrive at the Anchorage airport. I check the car seats and bags for city travel at the storage facility, then board our flight to King Salmon. There is no reception in King Salmon, but I was able to find the number for the Katmai Water Taxi and call them using a wall phone that allows free local calls. We wait in the adjacent visitor center where we watch a film about the Katmai area.
We are really rushed this morning: we swallow breakfast, pack, get to the light rail station, ride to International District/Chinatown, and transit to the King Street train station. The elevator is out of service, so we haul all of our luggage down the stairs to make it with only 3 minutes to spare. The Amtrak Cascade takes us across some spectacular scenery. Soon, we arrive in Vancouver. We heft the stroller and our bags across the street and up to the light rail platform. Another elevator outage at the rail exit, so we make multiple trips up and down stairs.
This trip’s idea began a year ago, as 2023 has a milestone birthday for me, and Yan will finish all her training and begin work as an attending. Our calendars align the best in July and August. I started booking everything in the fall. On January 5, Yan and I both got on our computers and hovered on the reservation site, hearts pounding, to snag a spot at Brooks Camp. Our trip’s schedule will have to revolve around that.
Six buddies on a river kayak trip, Embarking from Hoover Dam with a skip. Paddling down the mighty Colorado, Excited for the adventures that lay below. Stopping at Sauna Cave, their first break, Hot springs for soaking, sore muscles to shake. Relaxing and rejuvenating, their spirits renewed, Ready to…
This is our final day! The lake is like a polished mirror, and the mountain range stand like a boundary between the water and the sky. The two almost look indistinguishable. The kids stir and wake up. I go out for a photography session and fish while Yan makes oatmeal breakfast.
