Looking for Alaska

“Look behind you, guys!”

We had just about settled ourselves on the jetty with our fishing rods that midsummer evening, holding our breath, waiting like many other fly fishers for a salmon catch, when the cry of warning echoed from across the lake.

We turned to find an enormous bull moose staring fixedly down at us from the grassy shoreline of Wonder Lake. Snorting through flared nostrils, his heaving body glistening with sweat, his gigantic antlers pointing in our direction, he lowered his head menacingly. Was he about to charge? My throat ran dry at the thought of those antlers excavating my entrails. This wasn’t, however, our first encounter with a dangerous wild animal in Alaska’s Denali National Park.

It was only the previous day, while we were travelling along the 92-mile Park Road, that a grizzly had crossed our path and settled down comfortably by the roadside to gorge on plump berries.

“Don’t move. Maintain silence. Don’t get too close.” Sebastian, our certified driver-cum-guide, had warned in a stage whisper. As he manoeuvred the National Park Service bus away from the bear, Sebastian had shared the mandatory training guidelines with his passengers:” For a bear, maintain silence, be normal, don’t surprise the animal. Call out ‘Hey Bear!’ as you walk along an unexplored trail, so that if there’s one around, he can get out of your way...”

As the bus rolled along the narrow mountainous pathway, Sebastian had introduced us to the many wild inhabitants of this area: the caribou family lazing around, the thin-horned dall sheep precariously perched on the mountaintops, the bald eagle resting between flights and the lone bull moose watching over its young.

And here we now were, confronting yet another moose as we struggled to recollect Sebastian’s words about how we were expected to react. Slowly, changing direction, the large bull moose lumbered off the shore and waded into the lake, muzzling his way through the water to quench his thirst. With only his antlers now visible above the surface of the water, we came awake, as if of one accord, and beat a hasty retreat from the jetty without uttering a word. It wasn’t until several minutes had passed that we would regain our composure and realise that this was one splendid photo-op we shouldn’t have missed.

The six-million acre Denali National Park is home to a variety of wild beasts and birds. Wildlife encounters are eagerly anticipated by every traveller, but are never quite predictable, and therefore, all the more thrilling. There are few who venture to stay in the wilderness lodges, in the interiors of Denali, with no communication and city amenities, hoping to sight wildlife in their own natural habitat. Cruise ship travellers usually end their tour at the Denali National Park Entrance (Healy), which has many more stay options. The National Park Service bus from the park entrance offers a day tour along the Park Road, where you can chance upon a bear, a moose, and sometimes even a pack of wolves. The Park Road does lead up to the Wonder Lake, but to catch the bull moose settling on his supper? A day trip may not allow enough time for such an adventure.

Known to be the crown jewel of Denali, Wonder Lake is a large kettle pond created by retreating glaciers. The calm waters reflect the beauty of the snowcapped Alaskan mountain range on a clear day. On offer is a stunning view of the Denali valley, shrouded in Tundra vegetation, wearing the pretty colours of the season. Denali, or Mt McKinley — as we commonly know it — stands tall overlooking the Wonder Lake. If one believed in the local folklore, then only 30 per cent of travellers are lucky to sight Denali during their stay in Alaska. Denali Flightseeing is possible only from a few airstrips, with Talkeetna — a quaint town that stopped growing a few centuries ago — being the most popular of them all.

The few who stay in Denali, however, can opt for the spectacular North Face flight climb (the Wickersham Wall ascent — often referred to as the “Death Route” by keen mountaineers), right up to the summit. But given the unpredictable mountain weather, just as the locals believe, sighting Denali is a calling from the mountain gods and the destiny of a few privileged travellers. We did not consider ourselves to be amongst the lucky ones, since it was only the other day that our flight schedule from Talkeetna had to be called off on account of poor weather conditions.

But destiny proved to be different.

Earlier that morning, we were woken up by excited voices outside our cabin door. Fearing a bear or moose on our property we scrambled outside to find that it was neither, but a sighting of “the Tall One”. Greg, the pilot from Kantishna Air Taxi, had “called upon us”, to fly us to the summit.

Unable to contain our excitement, we hurried to the airstrip; Greg studiously planned our seating arrangements, after checking our individual weights and meticulously balancing our loads.

The flight was not more than 90 minutes, but it held memories of a lifetime. We swooped down on the Denali National Park, dotted with kettle ponds; followed the braided channels of the McKinley river, and traced it right up to its source — the Muldrow Glacier. As we gained height, the strong mountain winds jostled us. We tightly held onto the safety of our seats as Greg steadied the aircraft. It was only then we appreciated our careful seat-planning exercise.

We peered through the window of the bush plane, identifying the mountain peaks, snowy glaciers and multi-shaped lakes. The extensive Ruth glacier looked like freshly scooped-out ice cream; and the lateral moraine strewn across the ranges like chocolate chips. This is the spot where the flight descends for us to fulfil our childlike fantasies of thrashing around in an ice bowl. The flight time being the same, you can choose to be in the air or make a descent — weather permitting and pilot willing being the only two conditions.

But the most memorable moment of the flightseeing trip was when we were held suspended mid-air, face-to-face with Denali. The 20,000-plus ft of monolithic ice glistened and glinted in the sun. Spellbound and unwilling to let go of that moment, photographing the summit seemed like a lesser priority at that time. After that intimate and fulfilling encounter, it would be difficult for me to refer to it by anything other than Denali or “The Great One”, the original local name of Mt McKinley, the highest peak of North America and the third of the World’s Seven Summits.

Close encounters with a moose and Denali, are indeed very rare. Even more so to occur in a single day.

Back in the comfort of our lodge, my thoughts went back to Sebastian. I found it difficult to believe that he was once a professor in Harvard, who had come to Denali as a traveller and never wanted to return. There were many others who had similar inspiring stories to tell. About their passion for Denali. It was only then that I recollected the training guidelines that Sebastian had shared in case one were to encounter a moose: “Run! Yes, run zigzag and take cover in a bush if a moose were to chase you!! And if they were to visit the lodge, do not lock your cabin door, so that you can easily slip into the nearest cabin”.

I got out of bed and unlocked my cabin door, before I could close my eyes and fall asleep again, as the midnight sun streamed in through the cracks of the log cabin.

Chandana Ghosh is a writer and management professional based in Kolkata

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