Even in the dark, the outline of the Chugach mountain range rising from the sea, piercing the twilight sky, is an impressive sight. Alaska, the obvious destination for the world ski extreme championships with its untamed wilderness, home of the Iditarod dogsled race, location of TV’s obscure yet compulsive programme, Northern Exposure, has a reputation for adventure. It is rugged, wild, dazzlingly beautiful and somewhat quirky
The journey is a killer, no doubt about it. Gone are the days of the direct flight that whisked oil workers to the Alaskan pipeline. But when you eventually reach Anchorage the draining hours of travel are quickly forgotten. Especially if you are met, as we were, by The magic bus, a travelling party machine that can evolve from a low lit lounge with deep comfy sofas to a full on disco, all in the space of the 45 mile transfer to Alyeska, Alaska’s only official ski resort in the small town of Girdwood. The short journey takes you around Turnagain Arm, a tidal basin so named from when Captain Cook, looking for the Northwest passage had to turnaround in this dramatic cul de sac with 44 foot tidal fluctuations, bordered by mountains plunging into the sea.
Today booming property prices are a way of life but it is still hard to believe that Alaska, which is twice the size of Texas, was bought by the Secretary of State William H. Seward of the United States from Russia in 1867 for $7,200,000 — less than a celebrity pad in Malibu. The amount at the time, worked out to be roughly two cents an acre. Then the purchase of what was then the territory of Alaska was known as “Sewards Folly” because very little was known about this vast land mass that was not physically connected to the USA and had Canada in-between.
Described as the last true wilderness by National Geographic magazine Alaska has the spirit of adventure and exploration. It is not much over 100 years ago that the state was known for the gold rush, before that it was a land of fur trapping and trading.
In late February when we arrived the local papers were full of reports of the Iditarod dogsled race which was about to start. It’s a 1,868 kilometre voyage across the state from Anchorage to Nome held each year. The trail originally served as a supply route for materials to the gold fields in Northwest Alaska in the 1900s. It achieved international fame when in 1925 there was an outbreak of diphtheria in the isolated town of Nome. No planes could bring in the curing serum due to bad weather so mushers and their dogs took the medicine in by sled.
Alaska is also home to Mt. McKinley North America’s highest mountain at 6,194 m and boasts more glacial terrain that any area in the world. There are 100,000 glaciers and 39 mountain ranges. Moose still roam free in Anchorage the state’s largest city while lynx and wolves roam wild in the forests. In summer the wildlife is exhaustive while the waters are home to giant Alaskan crab, wild salmon, whales, otters and many more such creatures.
Armed with facts and figures about daylight or lack of it in winter, and freezing temperatures, the reality was far more pleasant. In late February early March you can expect up to 11 hours of daylight with average temperatures of -3 degrees to 1C. The best thing of all is due to daylight times the ski resort doesn’t open until 10.30 am with the last lifts closing at 5.30 pm — perfect for a lot of apres-ski.
It doesn’t take long to realise that Alaskans don’t really consider themselves to be part of the US. The homeland is referred to as “the Lower 48” and mercifully there is none of the full on “Have a good Day” mantra. Instead, which is extremely refreshing, everyone is naturally nice, helpful and pretty chilled. The slow pace of life is reassuringly therapeutic.
There is much about Alaska that is “not all is as it seems.” Take the resort of Alyeska for example, with its single resort hotel. Looking at the piste map it appears to be a small, manageable resort, of 68 runs, with one tram and six chairlifts. The summit is 3,939 ft the vertical drop 760 metres. The reality is that on average the summit of Mt. Alyeska gets 14 metres of snow a year, that is a lot of powder skiing. When we arrived the resort had received 110 inches of snow in two weeks. We skied powder for three days from 10.30 am until the lifts closed. This amount of powder can’t be a fluke because if you look at the selection of rental skis on offer there are far more skis geared to powder than on piste carving.
The weather isn’t perfect and reading through the lines there is a lot of cloud and, being at sea level, rain. But this area is subject to micro climates. “It’s not unusual to have the equivalent of four seasons in a day,” our guide Chris told us, “but the snow packs down so the chutes and high stuff holds the snow.”
The Chutes are what turns the entire North Face of the mountain into some of the best and most challenging runs within a ski area boundary, in the universe. These are steep, double-black diamond runs with something for every standard. If you want a 45 degree slope in a couloir it’s there. If you prefer to traverse out of the steep bit to a wider open pitch, it’s there too, and all accessed from the tram. You taste this at Alyeska and dream of Valdez, home of the world’s most extreme, extreme skiing championships only 20 minutes away by helicopter. But Valdez is just the tip of the iceberg, said Mike, a local who has lived here for 20 years, as he gave me the low down in the hotel sauna. “Ten years ago a heli-drop in Valdez was $35 and that would be a good four hour descent. You’d get a ride and then a bus could come around and pick people up from the road. Valdez has now been discovered so now you have to go further away to get a few mountains to yourself.”
Our first run took us to Christmas chute on the North Face, steep , knee-deep powder — Awesome!
But intermediates don’t need to be intimidated, the ski area covers runs at all levels with great names such as Sourdough (a nickname for pioneers who spent the winter in Alaska named after the only bread they were able to make), Klondike and Ego Flats offer a variety of blue runs.
That first day found us in the early evening on a long cruisey run, mesmerised by the view. We had to stop and watch as the day began to end around us. The sun was starting to set and already a few clouds were turning pink, then through the clouds there would be golden rays of light turning the ocean below into a sea of gold. In the distance stretched an endless chain of mountains.
In many ways this is the sort of trip that if you are a passionate skier you will always find yourself in a quandary — there is simply so much else to do that you could not do anywhere else. For example it would definitely be a shame to miss getting airborne and seeing from above the towering glaciers where blocks of turquoise ice tumble into the sea, or taking a cruise to spot whales, porpoise, sea lions and sea otters. Your dates might coincide with the annual fur bikini contest, or you might want to try your hand at mushing on the eve of the Iditarod.
Then there is the apres-ski which can be as raucous or as civilised as you wish. One night we had burgers and pizza in the small town of Girdwood at a local spot, Max’s amongst a sea of lumberjack shirts and beanies. Another night it was a Japanese extravaganza at the Alyeska Prince Hotel’s Katsura Teppanyaki restaurant.
An excursion to Anchorage again via The Magic Bus lead us to The Glacier Brewhouse where local beer meets Alaskan crab. For even greater drinking choice we headed to Humpy’s where to my sheer delight I was “carded” (asked for I.D. to prove I was over 21). Here we failed to try all 43 Alaskan ales before testing out Chilcoot Charlie’s of American Playboy fame — I think during the height of the Alaskan pipeline days when the workers had to spend their money somewhere and where “earmuffs” could only be found in topless bars. Chilcoot Charlie’s has nine bars and three dance floors. Needless to say that night was long,but just before I fell into the deepest of sleeps I remembered one of the hotel’s special features. Not only is there an electronic display of the aurora borealis on the ceiling of the lobby, but it also has a unique wake-up service for the Northern Lights.