1994 Kodiak, Alaska Hike

 

                                                              Gladie and Barbie

Barbie and I caught the Continental flight at 6:30 a.m. on Friday, July 29, 1994. We were on the way to Kodiak Island to visit her son Bruce and his wife Dana and their two kids. Bruce was in the Coast Guard and stationed on the island. Our trip took at least twelve hours and included four flights – Cleveland to Denver, Denver to Seattle, Seattle to Anchorage, and a one-hour flight on a small plane from Anchorage to Kodiak Island. Barbie had triple-A plan the itinerary through Jensen Travel and it cost $850 round trip. When we landed on Kodiak, Dana, Barbie’s daughter-in-law, was there to meet us in the airport that hardly seemed big enough to be an airport – a stuffed grizzly bear loomed over us as we walked through the small waiting area. Alyssa and Tommy, Barbie’s grandkids, ran up to give us hugs, but her son Bruce was still out on the ship. He would be back in Kodiak on Sunday.   

     We were tired and excited as Dana loaded us into her car and drove to their house on the Coast Guard base. I had my large VHS video recorder and aimed it out the car window to record the Alaska scenery as we drove along the one main road on the island. This recording turned out to be totally boring, trees and brush rushing through the picture, and I learned never to do that again. It’s hard to remember what we did the first night, but I suppose we went to bed early on the pull-out sofa bed that Barbie and I shared. It was still light outside because in the summer it was daylight till well past midnight.

    Due to the difference in time zones, Barbie and I were up early and sipping coffee in the little kitchen. Everyone else was sleeping in on a Saturday. The small Kodiak newspaper was sitting on the counter, and I picked it up to read the front page. “Hey, Barbie, look at this! There is a hike to a lake today with the Kodiak Audubon Society. Listen to this: ‘After crossing a salmon stream at the end of Anton Larson Bay, participants will cross a salt marsh and hike up through the high grass to this hidden lake.’ Doesn’t that sound exciting? We should go!”

    Barbie took the paper, read the article and added, “Look, there’s a phone number to call.” She picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed the number. I heard her talking and writing down information. She hung up the receiver. “The guy in charge of the hike is going to pick us up at 8:30 so let’s get ready.”

    I put on jeans, a T-shirt, and my bright yellow Kent State windbreaker jacket and of course my hiking boots. I had bought these rugged, thick-soled boots just for this trip and it was my first chance to wear them. Barbie put on jeans, a sweatshirt with a picture of a sheltie dog, after all she bred and trained shelties, and grabbed a light jacket. We packed some snack bars, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and bottles of water into a “Tweedy-bird” knapsack that belonged to her granddaughter. Then we sipped on our coffee and waited for our ride into the unknown Alaska wilderness. I was ready with my new hiking boots. I don’t remember if we left Dana a note. She claims we didn’t and had just disappeared that first morning. No search party was sent out, so I guess she figured we couldn’t get too far away on the small Island.

    Hans Tschersich picked us up at 8:30. He was a little older than us, bald on top with a graying beard, but he looked fit in his shorts and a T-shirt. I liked Hans right away. He was from Germany and spoke with the familiar German accent that reminded me of Max, our exchange student who lived with us in 1989. It was a foggy morning and Hans explained that others may not show up for the hike because of the fog. I said that it was going to lift, and it turned out, I was right. But still it was just the three of us, Hans, Barbie and me, going on the hike to the hidden lake.

    After about a twenty-minute ride, Hans parked the car by the side of a dirt road. We got out and followed him onto a path. The foggy air didn’t dampen our spirits. Barbie and I were ready for this hike. We followed Hans across flat land, the salt marsh then and came to a wide, but shallow stream. Not certain what to do, we stopped. Hans kept going and waded across the stream and called to us to follow him. Barbie and I looked at each other. I took off my socks and boots, held them high and waded across. Barbie took off her tennis shoes and socks and followed me. The cold water was up to our knees, and we cringed but laughed as we made our way over to Hans waiting on the other side. We sat down and put our shoes and boots back on. 

    As we continued walking, Hans explained that he was a doctor on the island and had moved to Kodiak about five years ago. He liked it here and didn’t want to return to Germany. A steep incline loomed straight ahead, and I was dismayed to discover that the path led up the side of what looked like a green mountain. The article was accurate, there was tall grass all around us as we followed the path upward. Barbie and I stopped to rest often, looking around and taking pictures. I was using a throw-away panoramic camera.  Hans was way ahead of us and often disappeared from our sight and then reappeared to check on our progress. Once when Hans reappeared Barbie asked, “We only have one hill to climb, right Hans?”

    Hans answered, “Ya, we only have one hill to climb.” 

    The day grew more luminous as the fog lifted. The length of time we spent hiking up the hill was infinite, an hour or two is a guess. Reaching the top of our incline, Hans reappeared and led us further along. Then, just as he had promised, a hidden alpine lake came into view, a clear mirror of water reflecting the blue cloud studded sky and green hills all around. The sun was shining on our faces as we stood and admired the majestic hidden lake.

    Hans decided to go swimming and I shivered at the thought. Barbie and I sat down on a grassy spot by Cascade Lake and pulled out our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. All we could see was Han’s head sticking out of the water in the distance. We watched to make sure he didn’t disappear. After all, he was our guide. We didn’t want to lose him.  Hans came out, dried off, and sat by us. He brought out his lunch and shared it with us.

    It was time to hike back down. This should be easier I thought. Hans had a little video camera with him and filmed Barbie and I as we waved to the camera and started our descent back down to the salt marsh and salmon stream below. Hans filmed us as we crossed back over the salmon stream, laughing joyously as Barbie splashed me with the clear Alaskan water. Hans was busy recording the salmon swimming upstream. They reminded me of wind-up toys as they wiggled side to side with all their might. What a joy to watch.

                                   Looking back down to where we started at the salt marshes

    Our spirits mingled with the land of Kodiak during the hike. Our feet had traversed this ancient island that had originally been inhabited by Alutiiq natives for over 7,000 years. We had traversed through a salt marsh, over a salmon stream and up an old bear trail on the side of a small mountain - fortunately not encountering any bears. We had reached the shores of an alpine lake. Our lives were enriched from this adventure.

            A look back at the old bear trail we took up the "mountain" (aka tall hill) that we climbed

    Hans drove us back to the Coast Guard base. Dana was glad to see us, and we had lots to tell her. Alyssa was glad to get her Tweedy bird knapsack back in one piece. The story of our hike doesn’t end here. Unbeknownst to us, when Hans had disappeared ahead of us, he was secretly recording our progress on the hike. That evening Hans came over and presented us with a VHS tape that he had made. It was and still is amazing for that time period in 1994. Hans added Enya music to the video and caught the joy on our faces as we crossed the salmon stream and discovered Kodiak Island firsthand. We were thrilled. Barbie sent Hans a bottle of wine from Amish country when we got home.

    We will never forget this amazing day on Kodiak Island and so thankful to be able to revisit this memory.

    The tape from Hans was not lost. I kept it for years and later transferred it to a digital format and placed it on YouTube where you can watch it now. The link is below. 

https://youtu.be/TpJ6qXWFhTU