Nugget Mountain is a rugged peak that sits about nine miles up Heintzleman Ridge from the Thunder Mountain trailhead. It had the appeal of being a prominent destination along the ridgeline, and a close proximity to the Nugget Creek Glacier and Juneau Icefield. Our knowledge of this peak was very limited, and we knew the destination was extremely remote. We were excited for the challenge!
(Notice Heintzleman Ridge in the center of the map, and Nugget Mountain in the top right corner.)
FYI: Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera for this trip. I had an unfortunate fishing incident a few days prior (which I'll describe in my next blog post.) I'll do my best to recollect the events that occurred without photos. Also, this post will be long, and for good reason. If you're the type of reader that needs photos to correspond to every event in order to pay attention, you may want to skip this entry. However, I do encourage you to read, since this was one of my most memorable trips of the summer (for better and worse.)
As expected, we woke up the morning of our hike to some gloomy
weather. The trailhead was close enough to walk to from our housing, and along the way we made a stop at the liquor store. It was sure to get chilly at night, and there's nothing like a few swigs of whiskey to warm the belly!
We started up the Thunder Mountain trail towards Heintzleman Ridge, which is easily the steepest trail I have ever hiked. There are a couple of others in Juneau that compare, but for the distance of relentless stair climbing, Thunder Mountain takes the cake. There are many exposed tree roots that crisscross the trail which when wet (most of the time) become very slippery. I hiked Thunder Mountain multiple times that summer, and each time I ended up in the mud at least once.
When we rose above tree line, we bypassed Thunder Mountain's summit and continued traversing the ridgeline. Soon, there is a sketchy, steep ledge where someone had installed a rope. I trusted the strength of the rope more than my own scrambling abilities to propel myself up the precarious section. Having our heavy overnight packs on didn't make matters any easier. Luckily, we all made it up without much trouble, but it definitely got my heart pounding.
At this point, the name of the game was simply following the ridge. There was a faint trail in places, but we knew which way to go. At one point we split up, with me and Tony picking a route down and around some of high points on the ridge, while Jimmy chose to simply continue up and over these dips and mounds. After a little while it became obvious that there wasn't an "easy" way. In theory a hike along a ridge sounds pretty simple, but this one had all kinds of obstacles slowing us down.
And we still had a long, long way to go.
As the day went on, the weather progressively worsened and the ridgetop became socked in with clouds. We trudged along in the wind and rain, while only occasionally getting views of our surroundings.
By late afternoon, we were all tired and sick of hiking in the non-ideal conditions. We decided to only keep going until we found a good place to set up camp. Given the conditions, ideal camping spots were limited on the ridge, but we found a place that seemed to at least offer some relief from the rain and wind. We pitched our tent as soon as we could, and Tony used his tarp as an extra vestibule to shelter our gear. We borrowed the tent from the gear cache used by biologists any other Forest Service employees who take frequent overnight trips. I don't think any of us thought to make sure we had all the components, or to check that everything was functional. Luckily, everything was there, and the tent seemed to be decently sturdy and waterproof.
As the three of us lay crammed in the tent (a three-person, but a tight one) we started scheming about our plans for the next day. After examining the map, we decided we had only made it about one-third of the way to our desired destination. It seemed pretty unrealistic to make it all the way to Nugget Mountain and back the next day, but we still decided to give it a try. We went to bed early with an alarm of 4:00 set for the next morning.
The rain pelted our tent all night, and at one point I woke up with the top of my sleeping bag soaking wet. Someone had forgotten to zip up the vestibule, allowing all kinds of rain to get inside. Soon, the 4 AM alarm went off. We all continued lying there, and although nothing was said, we clearly weren't motivated to get up.
About an hour later, we finally broke the silence and unanimously decided that Nugget Mountain simply wasn't going to happen. Not this time. We stepped outside to the (still) gloomy weather, packed up our tent, and reversed our course along the ridge.
But the adventure doesn't end there.
We had heard that there is a way to navigate off trail from Heintzleman Ridge to the north towards Nugget Creek, and eventually drop down into the drainage and run into the Nugget Creek Trail. We studied the contours of the map, and we decided on a route that looked doable. We found our spot, and began scrambling down off the ridge and into a drainage. It felt like we were starting a whole new adventure.
We followed a small creek that ran along the bottom of the drainage. This part was fairly simple with the exception of having to bushwhack through extremely wet and slippery vegetation. Tony and I both took multiple awkward tumbles. After a while, it actually got to the point where it became humorous!
From the map, it appeared that we could follow this creek until it drained into Nugget Creek, which was where we were aiming. Something went wrong (and by something, I mean our map reading.) Eventually, this little creek turned into a waterfall with a sheer cliff. No way down there.
We contoured around the cliff, looking for any easier way down. We found what looked like a better way, but then we came to another sheer drop-off. This continued for about two hours: hike to a drop-off, look for a better way (and repeat.) After a while, this got old, and it seemed like we were gaining minimal ground.
At this point, I started to get nervous. We were pretty much past the point of return (we would have had to gain a ton of elevation to get back to the ridge), and we were so focused on finding our way down to Nugget Creek, I'm not even sure if we could have successfully retraced our steps. Even though our roommates knew that we were hiking to Nugget Mountain and to expect us back that night, this leg of our trip wasn't planned for. Nobody would know where to find us if we got lost. Luckily, we started early enough that I was optimistic that we had plenty of daylight to find our way. Still, the tough route finding combined with the endless rain was starting to weigh on me. By now, we were all pretty much soaked through all our "waterproof" gear: jackets, pants, and boots. Every step was a slosh.
Finally, we found a way down that looked hikable. It was quite the slope, and it was sure to require some serious clinging to trees and other debris for support, but it was our most promising sign yet of reaching Nugget Creek.
We started down, and after about an hour of tough, slippery footing and stumbling over slash, we finally reached the bottom of the slope (and what we assumed to be the Nugget Creek drainage.)
Much to our pleasure, we were immediately greeted by a vast field of devil's club (for those unfamiliar: a large plant that is very spiny and painful when touched.)
Although bushwhacking through the spiky stuff was a pain, the flat ground was somewhat of a relief. It was slow going, but we continued navigating to the north. If we were where we thought we were, it shouldn't be long before we ran into Nugget Creek trail.
We didn't see the trail until we were pretty much right on top of it. We were still a good 4 miles away from the trailhead, but we all breathed a huge sigh of relief. At that point, a trail was luxury. We could put our heads down and hike. No bushwhacking, no navigating, no stumbling over debris. Just a trail.
The Nugget Creek trail hooked us up with the East Glacier trail, and from there it wasn't far from the trailhead. It would take us out near the Mendenhall Glacier (where I worked), and when we reached the trailhead, we decided to step in the visitor center and share our adventure with our co-workers. Our supervisor seemed thoroughly impressed with our navigation abilities (which is funny, because they let us down more than anything.) It also gave us a chance to take shelter from the rain and hitch a ride back to our bunkhouse.
It was one of my most memorable trips of the summer. It was one that challenged us physically and mentally, and there were moments where I wasn't having a whole lot of fun. At the same time, I wouldn't change a thing. Doing things that are difficult often make for the best life experiences, and the best stories to tell later on.
The summer would be coming to an end soon, and this trip put the icing on the cake.
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