Alaska – Page 4 – The (Mostly) True Adventures of Lupe

Smoked Out & A Change of Plans – Whitehorse, Yukon Territory to Chicken, Alaska (8-1-23 & 8-2-23)

Day 10 & Part One of Day 11 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

8-1-23, Whitehorse, Yukon Territory –

Are you ready yet, SPHP? It’s already noon! I thought you bought all the supplies we needed yesterday?

Sorry, Loopster. I thought so, too, but I keep thinking of additional things that would be nice to have, and it will be a long time before we get another chance to acquire them once we leave town. Anyway, that’s about it. Just need to check on the weather and Dempster Highway road conditions, and we’ll be on our way.

Ugh! Why, SPHP? They told you at the visitor center only yesterday that the Dempster Highway reopened 2 days ago. Do we really have to go back there again?

A mighty long stretch of the Dempster had been closed due to wildfires, Loop – all the way from the Ogilvie River way past Eagle Plains. They warned me that part of it might get closed down again. However, we don’t have to go back to the visitor center. They said I can check for updates on 511yukon.ca. Might as well do it while we’ve still got cell service. No sense in driving clear up there if fires closed the highway again.

Seems incredible to think that wildfires could be that bad so far N, SPHP.

Yeah, absolutely nuts, isn’t it, Loop? Hardly believe it myself. Hmm. Let’s see here. Good news! The Dempster Highway is still open. 80% chance of rain today and the next several days in Faro, so there goes that potential side trip on the way there. Too bad! Guess we might as well head straight N to the Dempster.

And then on to Tuktoyaktuk, Land of the Pingos, SPHP!

8-1-23, 12:39 PM, N. Klondike Hwy No. 2, Fox Lake – Yesterday afternoon a rain shower had cleared the air in Whitehorse, but as Lupe peered into Fox Lake from the dock by the campground boat ramp, a familiar white haziness was in the air, especially toward the horizon. Not a good sign.

Sign at the entrance to the Fox Lake campground.

Out on the **Fox Lake campground dock**. Photo looks SW.

**Fox Lake** from the dock. Photo looks NW.

Peering into the cold, green, watery world of **Fox Lake**.

8-1-23, 2:57 PM, 80ºF – The smoke really wasn’t all that bad at Fox Lake, but by the time Lupe got to Five Finger Rapids on the Yukon River, it was considerably worse. Although the Carolina Dog was already well N of Carmacks and the turn E toward Faro where there was supposedly an 80% chance of rain today, the afternoon was sunny, warm, and dry. In fact, it was just plain hot in a fur coat.

The Five Finger Rapids sign looked older than it used to be. Weeds grew among the thirsty flowers in the planter beneath it. The view deck and wooden stairway down to the trail to the rapids were more weathered than SPHP remembered, too.

At the **Five Finger Rapids Recreation Site** N of Carmacks.

**Five Finger Rapids** from the upper view deck near the N Klondike Hwy. Photo looks SW.

One of the informational displays at the upper view deck.

Despite the heat and smoke-marred views, Lupe made her traditional 0.76 km trek down to the observation deck near the rapids. At least the islands among the once dangerous rapids could be clearly seen from here.

On the partially shaded trail to the lower observation deck.

**Yukon River** from the lower deck. Photo looks WSW.

Lupe panted hard in the heat on the way back up the 219 step staircase leading to the parking area. Continuing the drive N along N Klondike Highway No. 2, SPHP ran the RAV4’s AC. Meanwhile the temperature outside continued to inch higher.

8-1-23, 5:02 PM, 82ºF – After fueling up the RAV4 at Pelly Crossing and driving across the bridge, SPHP parked at the turnout overlooking the Pelly River.

**Pelly River** at **Pelly Crossing**. Photo looks SW.

Brief **history of the Pelly Crossing region**.

The smoke doesn’t seem to be getting any better, SPHP.

I know it, Loopster. Keep thinking we ought to drive out of it, but it’s been smoky for more than a thousand miles since we first noticed a haze in the air after leaving Smithers way back in British Columbia. Not sure what to do about it, except keep driving. Sooner or later, there’s got to be an end.

What happens if there isn’t, SPHP? What if the smoke extends all the way to Tuktoyaktuk?

Clear to the Arctic Ocean, Loopster? That can’t be! Simply not possible! We’ll drive out of it somewhere along the way. You’ll see.

I’m starting to wonder, SPHP. The wildfires must have been bad if they closed the Dempster Highway at Eagle Plains, and that’s still a long way N.

The Dempster is open now, Loop. Maybe they got some rain in the past few days? Eagle Plains has been a monsoon every time we’ve ever been there. Remember fleeing the freezing rain that turned to snow back in 2019? We were lucky we didn’t get stuck, and that the Ogilvie River didn’t sweep us away that night. It was practically over the highway the next morning where we parked.

True enough, SPHP, but that was then, and this is now. And like you say, we’ve been through 1,000 miles of smoke already.

8-1-23, 6:01 PM – An hour later, SPHP stopped again at Stewart Crossing to have a look at the displays and let Lupe stretch her legs.

The **Silver Trail** starts at **Stewart Crossing**.

**Mayo Road history**. The Mayo Road is the Silver Trail.

The Silver Trail! Remember Mount Haldane and Mount Hinton, SPHP? They were fabulous!

Don’t forget Keno Hill way up in the fog and mist and that crazy mileage signpost where we parked, Loop.

We could sure use some of that fog and mist today, SPHP!

True enough, and from the Stewart Crossing bridge there did seem to be at least a glimmer of hope. Looking upstream, the way the Mayo Road went, the smoke wasn’t quite as thick as it had been. Unfortunately, in the downstream direction, the way N Klondike Highway No. 2 went, the smoke was as thick as before.

At the **Stewart Crossing bridge**. Photo looks S.

**Stewart River** upstream view. Photo looks SE.

**Stewart River** looking downstream from **Stewart Crossing**. Photo looks W.

NW of Stewart Crossing large regions of burnt boreal forest appeared. However, none of it was on fire now. Judging from the green grass and bushes already reemerging on the forest floor, it seemed these areas had burned during some recent prior year.

Beyond the burnt regions, N Klondike Hwy No. 2 deteriorated. The RAV4 raised great clouds of dust on long stretches where the pavement had been stripped away. A great swath of trees had been bulldozed, making the road enormously wide.

**N Klondike Highway No. 2** NW of Stewart Crossing. Photo looks NW.

The farther SPHP drove, the worse shape these construction zones were in. Bumping along, weaving among ruts and soft spots, the speed limit dropped to 30 km per hour. Despite what ought to have been excellent weather for road construction, there was no sign of activity. Eventually, enormous pieces of machinery were seen strewn motionless along the edge of the highway, like rusting dinosaurs whose epoch had come to a sudden, unexpected end.

Feels like we’re driving into the apocalypse, SPHP, like it’s the end of the world and time itself!

It was hard to disagree. Finally reaching the turnout that doubled as a Tintina Trench viewpoint, the displays that used to be here were gone. Only a limited smoke-marred view of the trench remained beyond the bushes growing up to hide it.

A hazy view of the **Tintina Trench**. Photo looks NNW.

8-1-23, 8:40 PM – It wasn’t much farther to the Dempster Highway. 20 more km, and the American Dingo was there. All was quiet as the sun sank into murky clouds in a pale orange sky. SPHP was surprised to see a new unattended gas station. The old one, which had finally upgraded its ancient pumps, now advertised itself as “discount gas” for the bargain price of $1.899 per liter.

At the **S end of Dempster Highway No. 5**. Photo looks W.

SPHP filled the RAV4’s tank.

On to Tuktoyaktuk, SPHP?

Heh, I don’t know, Loop. Let’s hang out here near the Dempster Highway display for a little while. Maybe someone will come along who can give us a report on what it’s actually like farther N?

Lupe didn’t have long to wait. 10 minutes, and 3 motorcyclists came roaring across the bridge over the N. Klondike River. Sure enough, they pulled right up onto the display’s gravel pad and stopped.

Stay in the RAV4, Loop. I’ll find out what they have to say.

SPHP met 2 middle-aged men and a younger one, who was the son of one of the older men. Their uniforms were coated with dust, and the dad had some trouble, moving gingerly. After SPHP volunteered to take group photos next to the display for each of them on their phones, they were willing to chat for a few minutes about their Dempster Highway experience before roaring away.

So what did the motorcyclists say, SPHP? How far N did they go? Is the road still open all the way to Tuktoyaktuk? Where does the smoke end?

It was an incredible tale, Loopster. Yes, the road is open. These guys went all the way to Tuktoyaktuk, but it was smoky the entire way, even at the Arctic Ocean! They didn’t get to see much of anything except smoke. Eagle Plains was awful. Even worse, both older men crashed their bikes, one at a spot where the highway suddenly turned from gravel to river rocks. He suffered a concussion and has several cracked ribs. The young guy’s dad said he was glad that he’s done the Dempster Highway once now, but that he’s never, ever coming back.

Oh, my gosh! That’s terrible, SPHP, but river rock won’t crash the RAV4. Are we still going N?

Sheesh, I don’t know, Looper. Let me ponder it. How can the dang smoke extend clear to the Arctic Ocean? Yet it does. Kind of pointless, if we can’t see anything. I told those guys that we wanted to climb some mountains. They all said we could get to Tuktoyaktuk if we wanted to, but thought that climbing mountains in the smoke was nuts – a really bad idea.

Well, while you ponder, can we at least get out of the RAV4 for a while, SPHP?

Sure, let’s take a stroll over to the bridge.

The walk to the Dempster Highway bridge over the N. Klondike River was a short one. Soon Lupe was standing at the start of the bridge with the road that was to have provided access to many adventures during this Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation beckoning beyond her.

The road to adventure! At the **Dempster Highway bridge over the N. Klondike River**. Photo looks E.

Alright. I’ve decided. We can’t give up so easily, can we, Loop? We’ve come such a long way already to get here.

Does that mean we’re going on to Tuktoyaktuk, SPHP?

We’ll see. Let’s just take it one day at a time. Sooner or later the smoke’s got to clear. It’s not far to Tombstone Territorial Park. Maybe we can do something there tomorrow?

That sounds terrific, SPHP! I love Tombstone Park.

Returning to the RAV4, the Carolina Dog’s long anticipated journey N on the Dempster Highway began. Driving over the bridge and 4 miles past it, SPHP then parked at a wide spot near a side road. After hitting 82ºF and staying there for hours during the afternoon, the evening had now cooled off into the upper 60’s.

What’s wrong, SPHP?

Cheese and crackers, Loopster?

Sure, SPHP, but why did we stop? Are we spending the night here?

SPHP kept feeding Lupe cheese and crackers and munching away on them, too, for a while before answering.

Nope. Not spending the night here. This isn’t going to work. I already caught a glimpse of the Ogilvie Mountains ahead. Barely. The smoke is terrible, Loop. There’s a huge plume drifting into them from somewhere off to the SE. Must be big fires nearby.

So, what are we going to do, SPHP?

Alaska, Loopster! Maybe skies are blue there?

And this is it for all of the Dempster Highway adventures we had planned?

Not necessarily, Loop. Perhaps we can come back later on.

8-1-23, 11:11 PM – Fortunately, Carolina Dog are flexible planners. Lupe was unfazed. The evening air was pleasantly cool as she stood atop the ancient, decaying, over-sized bench atop Midnight Dome (2,887 ft.). Unsurprisingly, air quality still hadn’t improved in the least. The views of Dawson City and the mighty Yukon River were all marred by smoke.

On the **ancient wood bench** atop **Midnight Dome**. Photo looks S.

The **Yukon River** from behind the bench. Photo looks NW.

**Dawson City** from **Midnight Dome**. Photo looks SE.

8-2-23, 6:19 AM – Of course, the Dempster Highway wasn’t all that far back, and there had always been a chance that the sky would clear by morning. No such luck! Returning to Midnight Dome’s summit, Lupe had a final look around before SPHP drove back down the mountain.

Morning at the ancient **Midnight Dome bench**. Photo looks SW.

During a brief tour of Dawson City, Lupe visited the S. S. Keno, had a look at some of the shops, and hung out with a wooly mammoth, before SPHP decided it was time to get in line for the George Black ferry across the Yukon River to the Top of the World Highway.

The historic **S. S. Keno**, which once plied the **Yukon River**.

About **wooly mammoths** in the **Yukon**.

Crossing the **Yukon River** aboard the George Black ferry.

8-2-23, 12:40 PM – Crossing the Yukon River aboard the ferry took less than 10 minutes. After climbing out of the river valley, a long, ordinarily scenic drive winding W atop enormous, gently rounded ridges ensued, passing Cassiar Dome, Swede Dome, and many others along the way.

The smoky haze made the drive less thrilling today, but as SPHP parked the RAV4 on a ridge near the W end of the Canadian part of the Top of the World Highway, there seemed to be hope of improvement. Off to the NW, the sky looked bluer.

C’mon, Loopster! Let’s go for a romp. Davis Dome (4124 ft.) is in sight past US/Canadian customs. We’re almost to Alaska!

**Davis Dome** (L), **US/Canadian customs** (R) in the distance. Photo looks WNW.

A huge cairn Lupe had been to years ago still sat atop a hill just N of the highway. The American Dingo revisited it for a last look back into the Yukon before continuing on into Alaska.

Looking ENE back into the **Yukon** from the huge cairn.

As usual, Lupe breezed through US customs, entering Alaska without a hitch. The winding drive now continued SW on a beautiful new paved stretch of highway past Davis Dome all the way to Jack Wade Junction where the pavement ended and Taylor Highway No. 5 turned N on its way to Eagle on the Yukon River.

The Carolina Dog had never been any farther than Steele Creek Dome in that direction, and wasn’t bound that way today, either. Instead, SPHP continued driving SW on the Taylor Highway, which went down the Jack Wade Creek valley, crossed the South Fork of the Fortymile River, and wound around Lost Chicken Hill (2,150 ft.) shortly before reaching the historic gold mining community of Chicken, Alaska.

8-2-23, 1:33 PM ADT, 75ºF, Chicken, Alaska – After SPHP filled the RAV4’s tank at the Gold Panner, Lupe visited the big chickens out front.

Still some smoke around, SPHP, but it doesn’t seem too bad – certainly an improvement over conditions back at the start of the Dempster Highway. Maybe coming to Alaska was the right thing to do after all?

I sure hope so, Loop. I’m ready to do something other than drive forever. No more than an hour to Mount Fairplay (5,541 ft.) from here. Want to climb it again this afternoon? Been 4 years since we’ve been there.

Mount Fairplay? That would be awesome, SPHP! Onward, RAV4 ho!

Links:

Next Adventure Prior Adventure

Dempster Highway Travelogue

Want more Lupe adventures? Choose from Lupe’s Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacations to Colorado, New Mexico, Canada & Alaska Adventure Index, Dingo Vacations Adventure Index or Master Adventure Index. Or subscribe free to new Lupe adventures.

The Pinnell Mountain National Recreation Trail, Alaska – Part 2: Porcupine Dome to Pinnell Mountain (9-2-22)

Part 2 of Day 35 & Day 36 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2022 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

9-2-22. 4:58 PM, 44ºF – Porcupine Dome’s W slope was steep, but a wide swath of tundra made the descent fast and easy all the way.

Heading down **Porcupine Dome’s W slope**. **Pinnell Mountain** (L), **HP4740** (Center). Photo looks W.

After losing hundreds of feet of elevation, the American Dingo rejoined the Pinnell Mountain National Recreation Trail, which wound down to the next broad saddle leading W toward HP4740. At the low point, a huge, partly damp region of grass and tundra, SPHP called a halt.

Wait up, Loop!

What for, SPHP?

Want to start a new GPS track for your Pinnell Mountain (4,934 ft.) ascent.

You stopped the Porcupine Dome (4,915 ft.) ascent GPS track, SPHP? Why did you do that?

So I could turn the iPhone off for a while, and save battery life. Anyway, we’re good to go now. Onward! Puppy, ho!

After crossing the saddle, a steady, gradual climb began. Glancing back, Porcupine Dome looked fairly impressive from here.

Glancing back at **Porcupine Dome**. Photo looks E.

The enormous slope Lupe was climbing slowly narrowed. Now and then the trail featured a lone switchback. The terrain grew rockier, as both grass and tundra began to fade. Nearly 0.75 mile from the low point W of Porcupine Dome, 2 more switchbacks finally got the American Dingo up onto a small ridge at the base of a much larger dark high point.

Still rising as it continued W, the trail traversed a rock slide on its way to a flatter region where a couple more high points were in view.

**HP4740** (R) from the **small ridge**. Photo looks W.

Wow, I’m liking this, SPHP! Most interesting part of the trail yet! Other than our side excursion up Porcupine Dome, of course.

Yeah, this is great! A little more rugged looking. That high point on the R must be HP4740. The trail should take us almost right to it.

Approaching the rockiest part of the traverse. **HP4740** (R). Photo looks W.

Beyond the dark high point, Lupe entered a huge, flat region of scattered rocks and sparse tundra. Pinnell Mountain (4,934 ft.) was back in sight to the SW. The trail became harder to discern as it continued W toward HP4740, where exposed layers of rock looked increasingly interesting as the Carolina Dog got closer. Cairns continued to mark the general route, which was self-evident, anyway.

Glancing back at **Porcupine Dome** (L), and the **dark high point** (Center) after traversing its N slope. Photo looks E.

**Pinnell Mountain** (L), **HP4740** (R). Photo looks WSW.

Closing in on **HP4740** (R of Center). Photo looks W.

Some of the rock formations on the way to HP4740 were pretty cool. Lupe scrambled up onto one of the first ones she came to.

Exploring **one of the first rock formations** reached **E of HP4740**. Photo looks N.

**Porcupine Dome** (Center) from the same spot. Photo looks E.

The Pinnell Mountain trail went almost clear to the top of HP4740. The highest rock proved to be a large diameter flat stone in a region full of similar ones. Naturally, Lupe paused to visit the true summit.

**Porcupine Dome** (Center) from **HP4740**. Photo looks E.

At the **true summit of HP4740**. Photo looks WNW.

Continuing W, the trail quickly led to another interesting rock formation that was only slightly lower. This formation had such vertical sides that SPHP had to give the Carolina Dog a boost to get her up onto the highest rock, which was shaped rather like the cap of a giant mushroom.

**Pinnell Mountain** (L) and **Mushroom Rock** (R) from **HP4740**. Photo looks WSW.

**Pinnell Mountain** (L) from **Mushroom Rock**. Photo looks SW.

Mushroom Rock wasn’t too far from the W end of the HP4740 region. Beyond the last remaining rock formations, the trail switchbacked SW down to the giant saddle leading to Pinnell Mountain. By the time the American Dingo got there, she’d lost close to 300 feet of elevation.

About to head down to the saddle to **Pinnell Mountain** (Center). Photo looks SW.

9-2-22, 7:00 PM, saddle between HP4740 and Pinnell Mountain –

This is it! I’m done, SPHP! Not going any farther. It’s been nearly 9 hours since we left Eagle Summit, and although the trail’s been great, there’s also been a ton of up and down along the way. I’m tired and hungry.

Me, too, Loop, but we really need to get to Pinnell Mountain this evening. Planned on stopping here for a little while, anyway, though, so I can set up the tiny house. Lots of nice soft tundra here, and I don’t feel like lugging it clear to the top of Pinnell Mountain. Meanwhile, you can take a break.

As soon as SPHP had the tiny house set up, Lupe went in. Heaving a great sigh, she laid down on her red sleeping bag and closed her eyes. Really did look like the Carolina Dog was done! However, when SPHP dug a can of Ol’ Roy out of the pack, she promptly devoured the entire contents, which produced a dramatic change in demeanor.

Thank you, SPHP! That hit the spot! Feel much better. We can keep going now, if you like.

Better do it while we’ve got the chance, Loop. No telling what tomorrow will bring.

Pinnell Mountain was still 0.5 mile away, and 500 feet higher. Happily, progress was rapid on the springy tundra of the flat saddle region. The trail climbed only during the last 0.25 mile, eventually switchbacking up the steepest part shortly before reaching the top.

Heading up **Pinnell Mountain**. Photo looks SW.

Getting close to the top. Photo looks SSW.

Hmm. A bit farther than it looked. Almost there! Photo looks SW.

9-2-22, 7:56 PM, 42ºF – The sun was already getting low, and a chill 15-20 mph wind was blowing out of the NE, by the time Lupe reached the top of Pinnell Mountain (4,934 ft.). The summit region was another plain of rocks and tundra, at least an acre or two in size. At first glance, the highest rocks appeared to be close to where the Carolina Dog came up.

**Pinnell Mountain summit region**. Photo looks S.

In the wind at what initially seemed to be the **true summit**. Photo looks S.

However, a rock formation along the NW edge of the plateau topped by a large, flat stone soon caught SPHP’s attention.

You know what, Loop? That may actually be the true summit over there. C’mon! Let’s get a picture.

Fine, SPHP, but then let’s find a spot to escape this wind!

**Pinnell Mountain’s true summit**. **Crazy Mountains** (R) in the distance. Photo looks N.

After a brief visit to the likely true summit, the American Dingo headed SW across the summit plain. 20 feet down the slope beyond the W edge, the wind wasn’t nearly as bad. This was a great spot to hang out for a while. Beneath the gray sky, the views were fabulous!

An enormous ridge with many offshoots snaked away to the WSW for miles. This entire system was bare, sparsely covered only with grass, rock, and tundra. Other than a bumpy section vaguely resembling the spine of a sea serpent some 2 or 3 miles away, none of the ridges were rugged. They were all just big and rounded.

**HP4721** (Center), **Table Mountain** (R of Center) in the distance. Photo looks SW.

**HP4721** (far L), **Table Mountain** (L). Photo looks SW with help from the telephoto lens.

So, the Pinnell Mountain National Recreation Trail keeps following this long ridge, SPHP?

Yup. Winds along another 18 miles before reaching Twelvemile Summit, Looper.

That would be so much fun, SPHP! Clearly a lot of up and down involved, but all as easy as pie. That knobby area looks interesting.

The stretch that looks like the back of a Stegosaurus is HP4721, Loop.

Isn’t HP4721 the summit you thought might actually be Pinnell Mountain before we got to Porcupine Dome, SPHP?

Yeah, just an illusion, though, Loopster. We’re definitely higher here. This is Pinnell Mountain, alright. In the distance to the R of HP4721, do you see that rounded hill connected to a flat area a bit farther R?

I do. What about it, SPHP?

That’s Table Mountain (4,472 ft.), highest point toward the W end of the trail. Maybe someday we’ll get there, Loop.

At least, we’ve made it to Pinnell Mountain, SPHP! That ought to be worth something!

Like maybe a chocolate coconut bar, Looper?

Great minds think alike, SPHP!

After shaking Lupe’s paw, congratulating her on her successful ascent of Pinnell Mountain, SPHP produced the second chocolate coconut bar of the day, which promptly met the same fate as the first one did back at Porcupine Dome. Beef jerky spiced the celebration up a bit more before it was over, then Lupe curled up on SPHP’s lap.

Even mostly out of the wind, it was on the chilly side. The sun was low in the W. Hidden behind layers of clouds, its light was already fading. Lupe enjoyed a grand panoramic view of all points W. Although black forests were visible deep in the valleys, not a single tree grew up on the vast network of ridges. Countless mountains were in sight, but only a few looked any higher than Pinnell Mountain, and they were far away.

Nothing moved. The world was empty, and other than the wind, quiet. After a while, the sky developed a yellow layer on the far horizon. Wisps of fog suddenly appeared from behind. Engulfing Pinnell Mountain, they momentarily hid everything before sailing off to the SW.

Evening light on the distant horizon. Photo looks W with help from the telephoto lens.

Gaps in the cloud layers, SPHP! Maybe there’s going to be a sweet sunset?

If we’re lucky, Loopster. Let’s stick around, and see what develops.

The sun was evidently higher than SPHP thought, but it finally looked like patience might be rewarded. An awful lot of clouds around, though. Could the sun actually break through? The yellow band brightened, the tops of the lowest clouds began to glow.

Awaiting **sunset from Pinnell Mountain**.

9-2-22, 8:40 PM – Standing alone in the cold breeze, the American Dingo was waiting at Pinnell Mountain’s true summit when the first slanting rays of sunshine broke through the clouds.

Perfect, Looper! Oh, it’s spectacular!

No way was it going to last very long, though. Happily, the Carolina Dog fully cooperated in SPHP’s mad dash about while trying to capture these fleeting, crowning moments of her long journey to Pinnell Mountain.

To the E, Porcupine Dome (4,915 ft.) was all lit up, a bright reflection like an evening star dancing off the solar panel Lupe had seen earlier.

**HP4740** (L), **Porcupine Dome** (R). Photo looks E.

**Porcupine Dome** (Center) from **Pinnell Mountain**. Photo looks E.

The layered rocks of the true summit perched right along the edge of the mountain were a dramatic and beautiful setting.

On **Pinnell Mountain** amid the alpenglow. Photo looks WSW.

All too quickly, the magic began to fade.

Getting back to reality at the **true summit**. Photo looks WSW.

The evening solar panel star atop **Porcupine Dome**. Photo looks E with help from the telephoto lens.

Over already? Shucks! 10 minutes of incredible, and that was it.

And then suddenly the sky brightened again. Magic returned! Against a brilliantly glowing orange and yellow sky, Lupe’s dark form, now also faintly glowing around the edges, levitated among the clouds, as though at any moment she might easily dash off through the heavens.

9-2-22, 8:58 PM – The big show wasn’t entirely over yet, when nearly an hour after arriving, Lupe started back down the Pinnell Mountain trail. SPHP hoped there might be a pink or red phase of the sunset coming, but if there was one, it couldn’t be seen from where the trail switchbacked down the NE side of the mountain.

Heading down. **Porcupine Dome** (L). Photo looks SE.

9-2-22, 9:13 PM – There was still some light in the sky when Lupe arrived back at the tiny house in the enormous saddle NE of Pinnell Mountain. The NE wind had blown the entire way down the mountain, and the leading edge of a long, dark line of clouds was now overhead.

Nearly back to the tiny house. Photo looks ENE.

A long and successful day on the Pinnell Mountain trail had ended in glory. Despite near exhaustion, before retreating into the tiny house for dinner and a well-deserved rest, Lupe paused to appreciate the pastel sky still glowing in the W.

On this cold Alaska evening, the weary Carolina Dog finally settled down all wrapped up, safe and warm, in her red sleeping bag. Five minutes later came the sound of the first raindrops falling on the tiny house.

9-3-22, the wee hours, 0.5 mile NE of Pinnell Mountain – The rain started so slowly and softly, that at first SPHP wasn’t certain if it really was rain, or just the tiny house rustling in the breeze. However, that mystery eventually cleared up. Rained rather hard for hours. All over and done with now, but the night was black as pitch. The weak flashlight beam barely penetrated the dense fog to where Lupe was busy rolling on the frigid, sopping wet tundra, apparently thoroughly enjoying herself.

Going to be fun finding our way back to Eagle Summit in this pea soup, SPHP!

Eh, we’ll be fine, Loop, as long as the rain doesn’t start up again. Got a trail to follow with cairns marking the way, plus GPS tracks, if needed.

Oh, that’s right! Forgot about the iPhone, SPHP. It’s like cheating versus how we’ve always done things before.

As long as the battery lasts, it does come in handy, though. Can certainly understand why the rest of the world has been using smartphones for years. Anyway, it’s cold out. Come back into the tiny house, Loopster. Don’t want you wandering around out here alone on such a foggy night.

The American Dingo went right back to sleeping like a rock, but SPHP had a harder time of it, laying in the darkness listening to the tiny house flap in the breeze. Every now and then, a particularly wicked gust made everything shake.

9-3-22, 6:59 AM, 0.5 mile NE of Pinnell Mountain –

Soon as you’re done with that Taste of the Wild, I’ll pack everything up, and we’ll be on our way, Looper.

What’s it like outside, SPHP? Have you looked?

Still cold and foggy, but it isn’t raining, so we’re going to take advantage of this opportunity. The farther we can get while staying dry, the better.

9-3-22, 7:35 PM, 0.5 mile NE of Pinnell Mountain – The pack ready, SPHP’s fingers were freezing. In a gray fog, Lupe stood next to the dry patch of tundra where the tiny house had been only minutes ago.

About ready to leave camp. A descent representation of what much of the return was like, too.

Hey, it was fun, but let’s get some circulation going! Onward! Puppy, ho!

It was nearly 9 miles back to Eagle Summit. Foggy all the way, although it was usually possible to see 100 to 200 yards. In the HP4740 region where the trail was faint, the cairns were tremendous aides.

Approaching Porcupine Dome, the fog suddenly cleared, but not for long. Within minutes, Porky vanished again. Reaching the base of the mountain, Lupe started up. SPHP called her back. Really no point in it under these conditions.

Mist and light rain eventually set in. The Carolina Dog got soaking wet, but it didn’t seem to bother her in the least. The trail went on and on, and so did Lupe, pausing only when SPHP stopped for breathers on the uphill sections.

9-3-22, 12:23 PM, Eagle Summit – The Pinnell Mountain adventure finally came to a sodden, anti-climactic end. Lupe reached the RAV4 amid fog and light rain, thrilled to leap up onto her pink blanket again. Stashing the gear, SPHP then conjured a veritable feast, including what remained of the lemon pepper roasted chicken, Ritz crackers, and cheese.

Outside, a dreary world remained the same, foggy and wet.

No point in staying for Mastodon Dome (4,418 ft.) tomorrow, is there, SPHP?

Doesn’t look like it, Loop. Maybe someday. We still have 2/3 of the Pinnell Mountain National Recreation Trail to do, too, you know.

Something to look forward to, SPHP! We’ll be back!

Who knows? The future is uncertain. If it happens, what a glorious day that will be!

SPHP turned the key, and the RAV4 sprang to life. Turning W onto the Steese Highway moments later, the windshield wipers slapped away the mist, as the heater began warming the cabin. Smiling, Lupe gazed ahead along the muddy road to new adventures yet to come. (1:37 PM)