It seems a shame to drive up and down the valley and bypass 30-40 miles of prime ice skating without eventually giving it a go. Living just off the Matanuska river lets me check on ice conditions nearly on a day-to-day basis, and after years of dreaming and saying 'what if?' finally everything lined up. Despite it being an obviously good idea, for some reason the concept of ice skating from Hicks Creek to Chickaloon blew people's mind. Despite the naysayery I was able to easily recruit Sherrie for some low grade adventure. The river was solid, the weather was free and clear, and Sherrie was excited and had time off. The next day was forecast for snow so I convinced her to bypass our original ice climbing plans for something a little more adventurous. It was maybe 0 degrees F and we couldn't expect any sun on the valley floor due to the Chugach, but that didn't matter. Sherrie had figure skates and I had Almgrens with skate boots
Photo: Soltis
Right off it seemed like the best idea ever, as it was fast and solid conditions and proved easy to make 15 mph. I predicted three hours travel time to Chickaloon, a distance of 20 miles. Sherrie proved more skeptical, predicting '4 to 12' hours. Her skepticism proved to be realism in disguise.
Photo: Soltis
Every once in a while the ice braids would run out and I would feel smart and detatch the skates, and just walk on over. Sherrie had to walk over on her skate blades, and I figured that was just another reason why men don't wear figure skates.
After a few miles the river began to educate us in the seedy underworld of cross-country ice skate travel. I started off thinking that I had found the best thing since whisperlite stoves as it was easy to go 15, 20 mph but after about a half hour it became apparent that a) the ice quality is extremely hard to gauge at high speeds and b) the overflow was more devious than I would have thought. I was the first one to hit the overflow at about 15 mph, which had the annoying quality of quickly freezing as soon as it oozed out over the older ice just enough to give the impression of solid, perfect ice that would be beautiful to glide over. Thankfully it was still fresh enough to be more liquid than solid and I was able to power through in a low defensive position, primed for any falls (a technique I learned last year ice skating Caribou Creek). Immediately after I realized my feet were wet and immediately after that the boots froze to my feet. This meant that of course I would have to walk over rocks with my $100 skates frozen to my boots. Soon after the first episode both Sherrie and I began to enjoy faceplant after faceplant into the overflow despite an educated eye and a newly cautious attitude. Sherrie was the first to full-on bellyflop as you can see above, but she weathered the trial with a great sense of humor. Some people slowly get ground down by painful adversity, but Sherrie seems to perk up.
Photo: Soltis
Because I could not reasonably expect to remove my boots and the bindings' release mechanisms were hopelessly iced over, off-ice rockwalking was my only option to bypass the inevitable section of river that sported deep overflow. Walking on the river rocks quickly dulled my skates but I had no other option that wouldn't take forty minutes to complete. In all realism I could have pried my boots off my feet but the would have immediately frozen even more solid once the warmth of my feet was taken away. Whatever anyway, my gear serves me, not the other way around and all of a sudden figure skates sounded like a great idea.
The Awesome Valley, third down on the left after Gravel Creek, with the beautiful Awesome peak saying hello. A most excellent area, with just enough remoteness to keep the casual mountaineer in easier accessed areas. Not that crowding is a problem in this part of the valley, of course.
Photo: Soltis
And then the blade fell off my skate as I was walking through ankle-deep overflow. I believe that ice built up between my boot and the binding, and the free-heel action eventually bent the frame and popped the blade off before I could say 'goddamn it!'. We were ten miles in, but had a nice bail point pre-reconned that would only require a relatively short bushwack up to the road. I levered the boots off my now numb feet and put on my backup boots and began a jog to where the side valley reaches the river. By the time I exited the river bottom I had rethought my decision to bail, maybe I could use my hot tea to deice the skate bottom and get the blade back on there.....I did it easily enough, but after patiently manipulating my boot to lever my feet back in there blade popped back off as soon as I applied weight to it. $100 for something that is only suited for Westchester Lagoon, lesson learned.
Photo: Soltis
So after again thinking that ten miles on one skate would be a huge pain in the ass, Sherrie and I did our usual routine of convincing each other in small degrees that continuing was going to be just fine, and after a few minutes we set off again. It really wasn't that bad, but my left leg cramped up every few minutes. But it was quicker than walking so we went on.
It really was about 90% excellent conditions, and 10% overflow and bad ice. Good odds, really.
The hardest thing to bear was the high-speed wrecks. I had thought to bring a bike helmet and elbow pads, and would have had knee pads on but I forgot them at home, but Sherrie was brave and had on only a climbing helmet. I took the first hard fall, smashing my head on the ice and taking a good amount of impact on my beloved elbow pads. Sherrie quickly outpaced me in the fall department, taking repeated all-points-off aerial sojourns that would leave her crumpled on the ice like an old paper bag. The above picture showcases the anatomy of a high-speed skating fall- you can see on the bottom right where her blades hit some bad ice and could only manage a few stutter-steps before her momentum got the best of her. I turned just in time to see her outstretched in the air, horizontally like Supergirl, a moment before she hit the ice hard enough to knock the wind out of herself. I got the picture before she had moved at all, and before I had checked to see if she was even conscious. Classic. She slowly regained her feet, jerkily, like I'd imagine an ice skating zombie would, and immediately skated on down the river. You can't teach that kind of perseverance. She later deadpanned 'ice is hard!' as if it was a brand-new revelation.
Sherrie was my scout for most of the second half of our trip, so that meant she broke through and fell into the water and I didn't have to.
We picked up the road where the Chickaloon river comes into the Matanuska and jogged the last two miles to the car at the King Mountain Lodge, which of course could be avoided by parking closer to the takeout. But I was never the type to shun pointless exercise. The river from our takeout to the King Mountain Lodge was a mass of pulverized ice and couldn't have been traveled on, not in any reasonable fashion anyway.
Photo: Soltis
Our packs look really big, but leaving the packs slightly expanded provides a little more cushioning. In this picture I had my skate boots in there with the ice skates still frozen to them.
Photo: Soltis
We got the crap kicked out of us, both sustaining whiplash from our falls and Sherrie had sore elbows and iliac crest on her left side where she had collided with the edge of a collapsing ice shelf. But sometimes it seems that the more sore you are, the fonder the memories; in an area where mountain exploration lurks up every side valley it was great to find that some good adventure existed in plain sight, often with the road in the distance.
Next time I'd wear hockey or figure skates with plain old laces, bring several extra pairs of socks, maybe even with a VBL, and wear the entire rollerblading armor getup (easily procured at Salvation Army) save the wrist guards. A bike helmet is designed to protect the side and back of your head much more than a climbing one. A nice thermos of tea helps to deice your feet if you need to get out of them post overflow encounter as well. Having a puffy jacket of course is warm, but when in the backpack also cushions the back for the all-points-off reverse fall. I hope more people do these things, see you out there.
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