Adventures in Alaska: Right at Home on the Crow Pass Trail

On this latest trip, Nathan and I found our dream home.  Seriously— we’re ready to move in.  The Crow Pass Cabin is perched on a picturesque mountain lake and nestled in a majestic basin surrounded by snowy peaks in all directions.  It comes complete with a wood stove and handcrafted wood furniture.  The cabin comfortably sleeps six, so we can invite friends to come stay at our new mountain paradise.  The views from the outside bathroom are one of a kind (as long as you don’t mind freezing your buns a little bit).  Apart from avalanches—which may make access difficult during the winter—there is only one minor problem with this cabin.  The trouble is that the cabin happens to be owned by the U.S. Forest Service, and I doubt they’re looking to sell anytime soon.  Until they change their mind, I guess we’ll have to keep searching.  *Sigh*

We stumbled upon the cabin our hike to Crow Pass, which we had heard provides some of the bests in all the Chugach Mountains.  The Crow Pass Trail begins just a few miles from the town of Girdwood and follows a portion of the original Iditarod Trail.  Although the total length of the trail is 21 miles and generally takes several days, much of the spectacular scenery and essentially all of the elevation occurs in the first four miles.

From the parking area, we followed the rocky trail as it ascended gradually into the mouth of a wide valley surrounded on both sides by massive, snowy peaks.  After just over a mile, we reached the ruins of the old Monarch Mine, which are scattered across the base of the valley.  With our eyes, we followed some of the rusty cables thousands of feet up the steep mountain slopes above the mine and marveled at the mountaineering skills the men who placed them there must have had.

From the ruins, we followed the trail upward as it traversed along the talus fields along the side of the valley.  There were only a few points where I wished I’d had my crampons to keep me from sliding off the snowy trail.

Eventually, the valley narrowed into a rocky gorge dotted with several cascading waterfalls.  Distracted by the jagged peaks above, I almost tripped over a ptarmigan standing in the middle of the trail, its white feathers blending seamlessly into the snow.  Surprised by the bird, we almost didn’t notice when the ravine we were following opened into a magnificent mountain basin.  We paused momentarily to take in the scene before us, almost missing the tiny A-frame cabin perched in the center of the basin. 
We crossed our fingers that the cabin would be open as we navigated carefully over the glacial stream blocking our path.  We were relieved to find the door unlocked.  Even without a fire going, it was significantly warmer inside the cabin and we quickly made ourselves at home.  Instantly, we began dreaming about how wonderful it would be if we could live in such a beautiful place, watching the seasons change from our front porch.  As we ate our lunch, we read through the entries in the Forest Service log book and explored all of the nooks and crannies of the cabin, including the spacious loft and nearby outhouse.  As we nestled in, the weather outside began to turn.  Snow started to fall and, from one minute to the next, thick clouds settled into the basin and caused an almost complete whiteout.  As much as we wanted to prolong our stay, we knew we still had a long trek back to the car.  We reluctantly said goodbye to our imaginary homestead and made our way down the mountain.  Even if we can’t make the Crow Pass Cabin our new home, we were inspired by its beauty and simplicity.  Who knows.  Maybe we’ll find a perfect place to build our own mountain retreat someday.  If nothing else, it’s always good to dream.