Alaska. The Biggest National Park You’ve Never Heard of
Imagine a park larger than the combined size of Yosemite and Yellowstone National Parks. Now add the area of Switzerland. Located in southeastern Alaska, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve (WSENPP) spreads out over more than 53,300 km2. The park’s immense size encompasses three major mountain ranges: the Wrangell, St. Elias, and Chugach. Nine of the 16 highest peaks in the U.S. are located in the park including Mt. Saint Elias, 2nd highest in the U.S. at 5,489 meters. WSENPP and several other protected areas in Alaska were created in 1980 with passage of the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA). Along with preserving unspoiled wilderness, WSENPP protects and interprets early 20th century mining activities. The park’s mining history dates to 1900, when prospectors Clarence Warner and “Tarantula” Jack Smith discovered copper near the Kennicott Glacier. Subsequently, the Kennecott Mining Company established the world’s largest copper mine nearby (the second “e” in “Kennecott” instead of an “i” was a mistake on incorporation paperwork). Ore removed from mines near the town of McCarthy was transported southwest by railroad to cargo ships docked in Cordova. After the mines were shut down in 1938, the former railroad bed was converted into what is now the McCarthy Road.
After checking the spare tire on our rented van, we departed Anchorage for the 400-kilometer drive eastward on Highway 1. To the south of the highway, we passed the impressive Matanuska Glacier which flows 43 kilometers from its origin in the Chugach Mountains. At Glennallen we turned south on Highway 4 and stopped briefly at a place where the Trans-Alaskan Pipeline comes close to the highway. Constructed at a cost of $8 billion between 1975 and 1977, the 1,287-kilometer-long pipeline extends from Prudhoe Bay on Alaska’s Arctic Ocean to the southeast-Alaskan town of Valdez, located on the Pacific Ocean. In Valdez, crude oil is loaded onto tanker ships. A few kilometers south, we turned southeast on Highway 10 towards the town of Chitina (population 126). Once a stopover and service center for trains carrying copper ore, Chitina marks the beginning of the 100-kilometer-long McCarthy Road. With its gravel surface, the McCarthy can be tough on vehicles. Potholes and sections of washboard limit speeds to 30 kilometers an hour and hazards such as left-over railroad spikes contribute to flat tires. East of Chitina is the confluence of the Copper and Chitina Rivers. Draining an area of more than 62,000 km2, the Copper River is approximately 270 kilometers long. From a bridge over the river, it’s possible to see enormous fishwheels used to catch migrating salmon.
About 27 kilometers east of Chitina is Kuskulana Bridge. Rising 72 meters above the Kuskulana River, the bridge was built in 1910 with steel girders rather than wood pilings driven into rock. The road narrows to one lane over the bridge. After taking our vehicle across we walked back to the center for a better view of the river. The next major bridge was the dilapidated Gilahina Trestle. Measuring 270 meters long and rising 27 meters above the Copper River, the bridge was built in just eleven days using a half-million board-feet of lumber. We were happy that the road now bypasses the rickety trestle. A few kilometers down the road we passed Long Lake where tens of thousands of sockeye salmon migrate up the Copper and Chitina Rivers to spawn. We parked our vehicle at road’s end near a private campground and the terminus of the enormous Kennicott Glacier. On the east side of the campground is the fast-flowing Kennicott River. Before 1997, visitors crossed the river using a metal cart suspended from a steel cable. After negotiating the modern footbridge, we arrived at the town of McCarthy. The town was founded in 1906 as a supply and recreation center for the Kennecott mining district. With a 1930s population of 800, McCarthy had a hotel, “red light” district, and several saloons, popular because miners couldn’t drink or gamble in the mining district. Today, McCarthy’s population is about 120. Along with a hotel and restaurant, the town has a few offices used for backcountry flight operators. There is no law enforcement or individual responsible for animal control as demonstrated by free-range dogs that wander the streets.
A few months before departing for Alaska, I reserved a flight from McCarthy to a backcountry airstrip at Steamboat Hills. The gravel airstrip where we were scheduled to meet our pilot was located about a kilometer from town. After receiving a briefing, our group of six loaded backpacking gear into the fuselage of a single engine De Havilland Beaver airplane that sat on oversized tires. The flight took about 25 minutes. Flying over forested lowlands, we touched down on a grass strip near the top of an elongated mountain. After unloading, we slung on our backpacks and watched the Beaver depart. Far from cellular telephone service, we had only our gear and the food we brought to sustain us until the Beaver returned in a few days. The view from the mountaintop was spectacular. Surrounding us were rugged mountain peaks, some still holding snow from the previous winter. At the bottom of tree-lined valleys were wide river channels fed by glaciers. Since we were above the tree line, we had unobstructed views in every direction. We walked for several kilometers before settling on a campsite. Pitching our tents on rocky tundra, we supplemented our water supply by melting snow using our camp stove. After preparing a meal from packs of dehydrated food we cleaned dishes and filled bear-proof canisters with food and other “smellables” that might attract bears. Following standard backcountry practice, we carried the canisters to a place about 100 meters from our campsite. We did have one bear encounter, but it seemed unrelated to food. Relaxing in our tent, my travel companion and I heard a soft female voice say “B-A-A.” A few seconds later we heard another “B-A-A.” As we emerged from our tent, her words were pronounced with greater clarity: “B-E-A-R! B-E-A-R!” At about the same time we spotted a medium-sized grizzly walking through our campsite. The bear continued up a hill, disappearing from view. We speculated that it was a curious yearling that had never seen or smelled humans.
On our last night at Steamboat Hills, we camped near the mountaintop airstrip. Fortunately, the weather cooperated for our return flight. After landing in McCarthy, we rode a shuttle van to the mining district, located about seven kilometers up a glaciated canyon. Owned by the Guggenheim and Morgan families, the Kennecott Mine produced $200 million of copper ore (four billion in today’s dollars) before ceasing operations in 1938. At its peak, six hundred people worked in the mines or the adjacent mill town. Along with a general store, the mining district had a school, hospital, and recreation hall.
The first building visitors see when entering the mining district is Kennecott Lodge. Built in 1987, the lodge was designed to resemble a dormitory building from the 1930s. We walked up a short set of steps to the restaurant’s patio for iced tea. Today, only 40 of the district’s original buildings are still standing including the mill, once used to crush and process ore. Extending up the side of a hill, the massive mill building has experienced significant deterioration. Many of Kennecott’s buildings have been stabilized by National Park Service maintenance crews. On our return hike to McCarthy, we stopped to wander among wooden grave markers in Kennecott Cemetery. Before returning to Anchorage, we made a stop in Valdez to see the terminal facility where the Trans-Alaska Pipeline ends. The fishing town is surrounded on three sides by snow-capped mountain peaks.
If you are interested in learning more about Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, please see my article: Copper Mining, the McCarthy Road, and America’s Largest National Park (© 2014 American Geographical Society).