Chicken – 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.

Lost Chicken Hill & Mount Fairplay, Alaska (8-19-19)

Day 15 of Lupe’s 2019 Dingo Vacation to the Yukon & Alaska!

2:31 AM, 30 ºF, Taylor Highway 0.5 mile SSW of Steele Creek Dome – Cold. And deathly quiet. Like a frozen zombie eye, a pale three-quarter moon stared down from space. A faint glow betrayed the sun’s position far to the N as it snuck along well below the horizon. Otherwise still a very dark night. Sniffing intensely, Lupe wove in and out among the bushes along the edge of the big dirt pullout.

10 minutes ago the Carolina Dog had suddenly burst into a frenzied barking spree. No sign out here now of whatever she’d detected. Might have been anything. SPHP never saw it. Perhaps best that whatever it was had vanished? As soon as the American Dingo calmed down a bit, SPHP persuaded her to retreat back into the G6.

9:23 AM, still SSW of Steele Creek Dome (4,015 ft.) – Ugh! Overslept! The sun had been up for hours! Hardly mattered. If the weather held, Lupe still had time enough to complete her adventures along the Taylor Highway today. SPHP straightened out the G6, and the American Dingo was on her way.

First stop was at the South Fork Wayside, right after crossing the bridge over the Forty Mile River. Lupe explored the forest looking for squirrels, while SPHP heated up a can of beef stew for brunch. The brown waters of the South Fork of the Forty Mile River were much lower than they had been a year ago. Loop waded in for a drink.

Near the **S Fork Wayside** picnic gazebo.

12:53 PM, 50 ºF, Mosquito Fork Dredge trailhead near Chicken, Alaska – The next stop offered a choice of adventures. A mile or two before reaching Chicken, SPHP parked the G6 at the Mosquito Fork Dredge trailhead. A nice-looking trail disappeared into the forest on its way to an overlook where an old gold mining dredge would be visible down on the Mosquito Fork of the Forty Mile River.

Truth is, peakbagging Carolina Dogs aren’t much into mining or dredges, and while forks are sometimes useful, SPHP isn’t keen on mosquitoes. Right across the Taylor Highway was a better option. Lupe could climb Lost Chicken Hill (2,150 ft.)!

Oh, let’s do that instead, SPHP! I’ll find that lost chicken! It’ll be wings and drumsticks for dinner tonight!

Heavily forested Lost Chicken Hill wasn’t much of a climb, a mere 80 feet of elevation gain or so from the trailhead, if that. Nevertheless, Lupe was enthused by the thought of hunting down that lost chicken. If she could also claim a trivial Alaskan peakbagging success as well, so much the better! After crossing the highway, she passed through a big opening carved into the S end of Lost Chicken Hill and headed up into the forest.

Starting for **Lost Chicken Hill** right across the Taylor Highway from the Mosquito Fork Dredge trailhead. Photo looks NE.

Loopster’s search for the lost chicken begins!

The dense forest was littered with small diameter deadfall, the forest floor thick with soft, spongy moss. Gently rounded Lost Chicken Hill was an easy climb. Before long, Lupe arrived at a large flat region that had to be the summit. The American Dingo prowled this way and that, but the lost chicken did not appear, and no single spot stood out as the absolute highest point.

*This seems to be about the top, but no sign of the lost chicken yet!*

Lupe sniffed and searched everywhere! She found bright red berries, she came to a variety of mushrooms and fungi, but the famous lost chicken was nowhere to be seen.

Red berries were common on Lost Chicken Hill.

Puzzling over which way the lost chicken might have gone.

I thought this would be a snap. How long has this chicken been missing, anyway, SPHP?

Not exactly sure, Looper. Probably since the gold rush days. 1880’s? 1890’s? Something like that.

So the chicken was here 130 years ago? No wonder I can’t pick up a scent!

Yeah, I’m really not that surprised, to tell you the truth.

The Carolina Dog pondered the situation.

The chicken can’t be too spry now, SPHP, but might have wandered quite a long way in 130 years. The trail is stone cold. Even if we find this chicken, it’s apt to be scrawny and tough. We should have gotten here sooner.

No doubt you’re right, Loop. Don’t worry about it. My bad. I shouldn’t have overslept.

With no chickens and no views, there didn’t seem to be much point in lingering up on Lost Chicken Hill. What the heck, Lupe had plenty of Alpo and Taste of the Wild to eat, anyway! Might as well return to the G6, and carry on. Even so, the Carolina Dog didn’t give up entirely. The whole way back she kept sniffing and exploring, just in case.

The only chickens she found, though, were the big metal ones stationed in the village of Chicken, when SPHP stopped for a quick look around.

*You can’t fool me, SPHP! These chickens aren’t even real!*

Lost Chicken Hill had been a fun romp, but only a warm-up exercise. The big prize of the day was still ahead – a favorite peak, one that Lupe had been to in both 2017 and 2018 – Mount Fairplay (5,541 ft.)!

Lupe had seen Mount Fairplay on the horizon from Steele Creek Dome yesterday evening. Stopping briefly at the Mount Fairplay Wayside 30 miles S of Chicken, the mountain was now only a few miles away.

At the **Mount Fairplay Wayside**, MP 35 of the Taylor Highway.

**Mount Fairplay** (Center) from the wayside. Photo looks SE.

Mid-afternoon already, but a decent day. This was Lupe’s big chance to visit the top of Mount Fairplay for a third time. 2,000 feet of elevation gain from the highway, but a fun and easy climb.

3:06 PM, 50 ºF, Taylor Highway pullout at MP 32.8 – Quite a few clouds around, but patches of blue sky, too. Lupe crossed the Taylor Highway and started up an embankment on the other side. Experience gained during her prior ascents from this same starting point would come in handy now. The first goal was to get up on the lower end of the broad ridge leading SE toward the big saddle S of the summit.

**Mount Fairplay** (Center) from the pullout at Taylor Highway MP 32.8. Photo looks ESE.

The broad ridge wasn’t far from the highway, or much of a climb, but this first zone was full of small trees and dense stands of large bushes. Instead of heading E straight for the ridge as she had done before, Lupe angled NE (L) taking a slightly longer route hoping to avoid the worst of the bushes.

This manuever should have worked. The bushes weren’t nearly as bad this way. Less thrashing about for SPHP ought to have saved some time, but another obstacle presented itself. Blueberries! The slope leading up to the ridge was full of luscious, ripe, wild blueberries. No problem for the American Dingo, but SPHP was quickly hooked.

Are you coming, or not, SPHP? The bushes would have been faster! We’ll never get there at this pace!

Sorry, Loop, but wild blueberries are sooo scrumptious! Just a few more, and I’ll be right with you.

Inexplicably, a few more turned out to be quite a few more. Lots more, in fact, but Lupe finally did make it up onto the broad ridge. Although blueberries were up here, too, there weren’t as many. Overall there was far less vegetation. The long slope leading SE toward the big saddle was now in view.

Finally up on the lower part of the broad ridge. Photo looks WNW.

The long slope higher ahead. Photo looks SE.

Staying farther NE than during her prior ascents, Lupe headed for the big saddle more than a mile away. The slope gradually became rockier as she climbed.

Entering rockier terrain. Photo looks SE.

It was a little earlier in the year this time around. The tundra was just beginning to change to fall colors.

The tundra wasn’t quite as colorful yet as on Lupe’s earlier ascents.

Gazing along the **W flank of Mount Fairplay**. Photo looks SSW.

Typical appearance of the lichen-covered rocks.

Before Lupe reached the start of the steeper climb up to the big saddle, she came to a broad expanse of grassy tundra. In prior years, this area had been boggy, full of tiny trickling streams and numerous waterholes. Now, however, the ground was noticeably drier. Hardly any streams, and fewer waterholes. Lupe stayed on or near the rocks as long as she could before entering the wetlands.

Approaching the boggy region. Photo looks SE.

Near the end of the rocks. The saddle beyond Lupe is the pass between **HP5120** (L) and **Mount Fairplay’s summit** (R). Photo looks NE.

Close to a waterhole. **HP5120** (R of Center) in the background. Photo looks NNE.

With less sogginess to avoid, getting to the base of the steeper climb was easier than ever before. Here the terrain became rocky again. In short order, Loopster was scrambling higher.

*So far, so good! Gets quite a bit steeper from here on, though!*

After a good scramble, Loop reached an area with more vegetation again above the steepest part. She still hadn’t made it up to the big saddle SSW of the summit.

Near the end of the steepest section. Photo looks SSE.

Easier now, but still below the big saddle SSW of the summit. Photo looks SSE.

Lupe never did get to the big saddle. Instead, the Carolina Dog turned NE heading almost directly for the summit. This was a steeper, shorter route than she’d ever taken before. Lanes of tundra provided paths of least resistance between rivers of rock.

Heading for the summit (L). Photo looks NE.

Glancing back at the big saddle on the S ridge after bypassing it. Photo looks S.

The final climb was rocky and moderately steep. Following faint paths, it wasn’t long before Lupe was approaching the summit.

Still a little way to go. Photo looks NNE.

Getting close to the top. Photo looks N.

Towers, sheds, and wires came into view. Moments later, Lupe was among them. A big brown shed was close to where she’d come up. Loop headed for a small wall of rock a bit NE of it. This little rock wall still looked like the marginally highest point on the mountain.

The towers on **Mount Fairplay** come into sight. Photo looks NNE.

3rd annual appearance at the **true summit of Mount Fairplay**! Photo looks NW.

The top of Mount Fairplay (5,541 ft.) looked pretty much the same as before. The same towers and sheds were grouped near the S end and along the W side of the big, rough, but otherwise almost flat summit area. However, there was one important difference. Lupe was sad to learn that the very entertaining squirrel that had been up here in 2018 was gone! Not completely unexpected. What had possessed a squirrel to traipse all the way up here more than 1,500 feet above any tree or bush had always been a mystery in the first place.

The entire summit was roughly 300 feet long N/S and 100 feet wide E/W. Lupe’s reconnaissance started with the big rocks at the S end.

Looking down the S ridge. Photo looks SSW.

Near the E edge still looking down the S ridge. Photo looks SSW.

Same spot, but showing more of the S end of the summit region. Photo looks SW.

After enjoying the views to the S, Loop headed N along the E edge. She got all the way to the N end, and again found the survey marker where SPHP had first learned the name of this mountain back in 2017.

At the survey marker near the N end of the summit region.

An arrow on Survey marker No. 2 pointed S toward a wall of loose rock partially enclosing a shallow human-created depression several feet in diameter. Going over for her annual check, Lupe still did not see any other survey marker, in or out of the pit. Survey marker No. 2 was the only one she had ever found on Mount Fairplay, and that’s the way things stayed.

On the rough circular wall by the pit (L of Lupe) survey marker No. 2 points toward. Photo looks SSW.

Time for a break. At the N end, not far from survey marker No. 2, Lupe curled up on SPHP’s lap. The sky had clouded up completely, a nearly uniform indistinct gray, long before the Carolina Dog had reached the summit. Evening now, and quite cool, about 40 ºF with a 5-10 mph breeze out of the SW.

The clouds were fairly high, but the air below was hazy. Looking down Mount Fairplay’s broad N slope, rows of yellow-brown hills and ridges faded into oblivion. The American Dingo could see for miles, but not sharply, details concealed by the horizon-devouring haze.

Gazing down **Mount Fairplay’s N slope**. Photo looks N.

Three ascents of this overgrown E Alaska hill! Hard to believe it, but Loopster really was back. It all seemed so familiar, yet still incredibly remote. The scene was duller, more somber and serious than before. Not even that peakbagging squirrel to break the solitude. Refuge in the sky, Mount Fairplay stood besieged by a vast, empty unknown.

Lupe got hungry. Taste of the Wild was provided. Ahh, so much better! Energy came surging back. The were-puppy appeared, growling and threatening, and succeeded in snatching away SPHP’s glove.

The glove-snatching were-puppy of Mount Fairplay.

Hey, give that back!

Keep-away is a delightful game, one the were-puppy knew it would win. Not until SPHP was sufficiently humiliated did the glove lose its strange fascination. Abandoned among the rocks, SPHP finally retrieved it.

Well, thank you so much! Since you’re so perky, why don’t we take a stroll around the whole summit?

The were-puppy was fine with that.

The Taylor Highway from the W edge. The gently rounded yellow slope seen beyond Lupe is the broad ridge she had come up from R to L. Photo looks W.

View to the NW. The closest hill is **HP5120** (R of Center).

In the area that was Lupe’s approach to the summit. Photo looks SW.

At the S end again overlooking the big saddle along the S ridge. Photo looks SSW.

After a leisurely counter-clockwise circumnavigation, Lupe was back where she’d started. SPHP proposed lingering a while longer at the NW end. A bit gloomy up here, but Mount Fairplay was so fabulous! The weather wasn’t threatening, and the sun, though sinking, still gleamed among the clouds.

The summit as seen from the NW end. Photo looks S.

What are you staring at, SPHP? You going to stand there forever?

No. It’s just incredible to be here again, Loop. Enjoying, that’s all.

Still enough daylight to try something different, if we get on with it, isn’t there?

Maybe, what do you have in mind?

Let’s go down the N slope this time. Looks easy enough, and we’ve never been that way before.

*Come on! Let’s try the N slope!* Photo looks NNE.

Last year, Lupe had explored part of the S ridge beyond the big saddle on what turned out to be a gorgeous evening spent roaming the blazing, brilliant tundra. Wasn’t going to be like that today, but the Carolina Dog was right. Although longer than going back the way she had come up, the N slope appeared perfectly feasible. Ought to be able to reach the highway before dark. Why not?

I like it! Go for it, Looper. I’ll be right behind you!

An hour and twenty minutes after reaching the top of Mount Fairplay, Lupe charged far down the N slope, greatly outdistancing SPHP. She soon dashed back to encourage SPHP to hurry. Some places it was rocky enough to slow things down quite a bit, but most of the way even SPHP set a fairly lively pace on the long downhill trek.

Exploring a new route took some of the sadness out of leaving Mount Fairplay behind.

Already partway down the N slope, Lupe returns to check on SPHP. Photo looks NNE.

Overlooking the **saddle region** (Center) between **HP5120** (straight up from Lupe’s head), and **Mount Fairplay’s N ridge** (R). Photo looks N.

0.33 mile down the N ridge, Lupe turned NW descending into the broad saddle region leading to subpeak HP5120. The saddle proved boggy, so she crossed it at the highest, driest part along the NE edge.

A glance back up the N ridge during the descent. Photo looks S.

About to drop down to the saddle leading to **HP5120** on the other side. Lupe crossed this saddle at far R, then traveled along the base of **HP5120** aiming for the little pass seen on the L. Photo looks NW.

**Mount Fairplay** from the saddle. Photo looks SSE.

Once across the saddle, it wouldn’t have been too difficult to go right up and over HP5120, but doing that seemed an unnecessary expenditure of precious energy. Instead, Looper turned SW along the base of HP5120, angling slowly higher toward a minor pass.

In the small pass at the S end of **HP5120**. **Mount Fairplay** (L). Photo looks S.

Going through the pass, Lupe came to a steep, scree-covered slope. The small rocks were loose, and often gave way underpaw. A series of faint animal trails provided better support.

Traversing the **W slope of HP5120**. Photo looks NW.

The animal trails were fun to follow, and got Lupe all the way around HP5120 down to a lower part of Mount Fairplay’s NW ridge. Ahead, a long level stretch led to a much smaller hill. Approaching the top, a pole came into view. Lupe soon reached a small solar-powered installation, perhaps a weather station?

The solar-powered station on the NW ridge. A little slice of **Mount Fairplay’s summit** (straight up from Lupe) peeks up from behind **HP5120** (Center). Photo looks SSE.

All downhill from here! From the solar-powered station, the NW ridge sloped steadily down to the Taylor Highway. Still quite a trek, but an easy one practically all the way.

Looking down the NW ridge from close to the solar-powered station. Photo looks NW.

The big, rounded ridges of **Mount Fairplay’s W slopes**. Lupe had gone up the next one over. Photo looks SSW.

**Solar station hill** (L), **HP5120** (Center), **Mount Fairplay summit** (R of Center). Photo looks SE.

**Mount Fairplay** (L of Center) from well down the NW ridge. Photo looks SE.

The only tricky part came at the end. Leaving the NW ridge, the terrain steepened as Lupe turned W searching for a way down through forest and dense bushes.

It all worked out! Without getting SPHP too tangled in vegetation, Lupe managed to reach the Taylor Highway. Only an easy 0.5 mile stroll back to the G6 remained.

As she trotted along, the sky was clearing off to the N. Two years ago, the Carolina Dog had seen the Northern Lights for the first time from the pullout at MP 32.8 W of Mount Fairplay where she’d be staying tonight. Maybe she’d get lucky again! (End 9:38 PM, 44 ºF)