Alaska Day 27, Cutting Edge of the Lunatic Fringe

Day 27

 Thursday June 28

     True to form, it was gray and overcast when I started packing up the car.  But, it wasn’t raining yet.  So, I rolled the dice and drove out to the trailhead for Tonsina Point.   Seven years ago, I drove this road out of curiosity.   I had forgotten how much I disliked it.   

      Seward is a bit stretched out.  There are all the buildings involved with the fishing industry and the city’s port.  There’s also the railroad yard and passenger train depot. You pass all this driving into town.  There are also the cruise ship docks bringing people into town for a day or two.  

     Then there’s Railroad Drive.  It’s an unpaved road leading out from the south side of town. On the one side is a cliff, complete with plenty of warning signs about falling rocks.  On the other side a drop off directly into Resurrection Bay.   With the tide as it was, the drop off was about five feet.  Did I mention a lack of guard rail?  The road is wide enough for two cars to easily pass each other. It gets interesting when you meet a truck.   Add the multitude of potholes and it makes for an interesting drive.  

       Since it still wasn’t raining yet, I ditched the car at the trailhead for Tonsina Point. The trail is relatively easy and only a mile and a half to the turnaround point.  From there, you can walk the coast for quite a ways.  Though, there are plenty of signs to be wary of the incoming tide. 

      The trailhead was easy enough to find, and by this point in the trip I had started hoarding $5 bills for day use parking.  The trail starts easily enough with a walk up a dirt road.  There are some clearly and heavily marked private homes off this road. 

      Just a few minutes up the road, the trail peels off.  The first stretch is well maintained and a steady, but easy climb.

      Eventually, you reach the top and start back down again.  This time it’s a whole lot of switchbacks. 

      I did find this interesting, on the downside of the trail there were numerous wooden plank bridges.  All of them were covered with mesh.  Traction when icy perhaps.

     When I arrived at the first bridge, I still hadn’t met anyone yet.  There’s just something about having the place to yourself.  The guidebooks talked about being able to see salmon heading upriver from the bridge.   Usually, this is the time when they start up stream.  But, I‘ve heard numerous times that they’re running late this year. I’ve even heard some fishermen talking about it.  The state has added restrictions on salmon fishing because of it.

      And with no salmon, no bears.  By this point, I’m down on the forest floor and it’s an easy walk. 

      After crossing the second bridge, you come to a camping area and a covered shelter.

  That’s where the trail technically ends.  But, I had two people tell me I had to walk out on the beach.   I would have any way.  It’s not every day I get to walk out on a black sand beach.

      The hike back was easy enough and I welcomed being past the upward switchbacks.  That’s when I started meeting people. They all seemed curious about the salmon. 

      One last stop at Resurrection Coffee before heading out. 

     The rain started splattering as I drove out of Seward. The further north I drove, the brighter the sky became, eventually leading to some welcome sunshine.

      On the previous day’s hike, I ran into a group of Park Service Rangers doing some trail maintenance.  They had stopped for lunch during a break in the drizzle.  I asked them if there was anything I needed to see on the way to Anchorage, or if there was a trail I should check out.  Three of the five said I needed to check out Hope.  One of them mentioned the beach.

     My AAA map showed the fifteen mile road as unimproved.  But, thanks to the wifi at the coffee shop, I was able to confirm it was paved and in great shape. 

      I easily found the road and stopped to take a couple of shots.

     At the far end of the road is a camping area and a parking lot for a series of trails.  I pondered them, but doubled back to the only restaurant I saw,  the Creekbend.  The place has ten tables indoors and four outside.  With only three people, it was quite busy.  I asked about the beach and they gave me simple directions.  BTW, the Halibut sandwich was delicious.

     After ditching the car in Hope’s “historic district.”  That’s the Seaview Café and Bar, other than an RV park, it’s pretty quiet here.  When the 1964 earthquake hit, four minutes of shaking sank this area in the mud. 

      I took a walk out as close to the water as I could.  When the mud started getting deep, I turned around.   

     Seen in the window of the Seaview Bar...

     It was still only mid-afternoon.  I drove back to the trailheads at the end of the road. The shortest trail ran three and a half miles to an overlook.  Not wanting to commit to seven miles this late in the day with the additional drive, I decided to give it a half hour up, then turn back.  The kiosk mentioned the view.  The trail wasn’t bad at all.  Funny how much faster it goes on a sunny day when all you’re carrying is a camera in your hand.  I even left the pack in the car.  

     Just for kicks, I drove back to that bar and wandered in.   Thirty people would have been crowded.  That’s where I met John.  He summers here in Hope and winters in Arizona.  To suppliment his pension, prospects for gold.  He claims it's all in being able to spot certain features in the landscape.  He’s been doing this for a couple of years and loves it. 

    Like me, me likes to travel, too.  He told me his one travel wish is to go to Russia for one of their air shows.  He was in the Navy during the Viet Nam war and served as a radar operator.  He quickly came to respect what their planes could do.  He eventually moved into naval intelligence, working to counter the advances the Russians were making. 
     Seen in the bar...

     It was time to move on and head to Anchorage.  Driving along, I passed a passenger train slowing working its way up an incline.   A few miles later, a conveniently places pullout appeared.  I settled in and waited for the train.

     My home for the night was the Creekwood Inn.  It was nothing special, but clean and well maintained.      

Coming Up,

A washed out trail gets
interesting