My Great Alaskan Adventure - Wednesday, July 2

It turned out that every day in Alaska would be an adventure in its own right. Today was no exception. As I said, we decided to do this seven-mile coastal hike. The only issue was making sure the high tide didn’t roll in to surprise us. Checked and verified: low tide at 8:45am and high tide at 3:07pm.

At around 7:30am, we grabbed some breakfast from the Two Sisters’ bakery right down the street. The food was nothing to write home about, but at least it would take me through to a late lunch. We even packed an oatmeal raisin to go just in case (and because little mushroom knew how much I lurved oatmeal raisin cookies).

We took a cab to the 5-mile marker on Seward Highway where the Bishop’s Creek coastal trail started. This was all part of the plan. This way, we could hike all the way back to our car in downtown Homer which was parked at the end of the trail and then drive directly to Seward. Perfect! The cab driver was even kind enough to drive us a little way down the sandy trail which we were pleased about, as it saved us a little bit of walking time.

We arrived at the start of the trail which had a sign that divided up the trail – it had two hikers and a little left arrow. What a waste of money on a sign telling us to walk to the left of the sign, when really, walking to the left or right would take us down the same path. Ok, I guess we’ll start this hike on the left side of this fork. Shrug. Start time: 8:45am. Again, perfect. Right at low tide.

As we got further down the path, things were getting a little wilder. The path got narrower and the bugs got bigger, badder and more frenzied. We climbed over a few logs with ease and kept trooping on until we hit a roadblock. There was a huge log in our way and lots of branches that would require some amount of bushwhacking. What should we do? I asked my little sister. She responded, well, duh, we keep going! Where else are we going to go? I looked around me. True, true. So on we went.

After balancing our way across several dead beams, clawing our way through the thickening undergrowth and getting speared by the branches of plants and trees (and specifically, a very evil plant called the Devil’s Club or Oplopanax Horridus), we were pretty much committed. All we had to do was keep making our way down towards the coast, and we would be fine, right? I mean, the native Indians did that (followed the river, water, etc.) when they needed direction. We figured we were smart enough to do the same. Besides, as we turned to look back, we realized the path we took had been slowly engulfed by the feral foliage.

We bravely trooped on. Well, me, not so much. I was only motivated because 1) I wasn’t sure how to get back, and 2) my little sis seemed so confident and fearless. About 45 minutes into our hike, we heard the gentle flow of waves against the shore. Hooray! Umm, not so much. We realized that, from where we were standing, there was probably about a 40-foot cliff between us and the coast.

We thought about making our way back. Honestly though, we had very little clue. My sister looks at me and goes, shall we call the police? Oh my goodness, we’re lost! We’re going to die in the Alaskan wilderness! I was freaking out in my head, wondering when the bears would come lumbering in to strike us down and whether vultures would feed on our rotting carcasses. Sounds dramatic, but I sometimes surprise myself at the thoughts that go through my head. So, standing atop one of the great logs we had scaled, we called the cops.

Sister: Hello? We are at Bishop’s Creek Coastal trail. We are lost… and scared! (whispers to me – I added that last part for effect)
Cop: Ok, so how old are you?
Sister: I’m 24. My sister’s 26!
Cop: [long period of silence] Ok…do you want me to call the troopers?
Sister: Yes thanks.

And so the troopers were called. We were instructed to try to head back towards the original trail, as they would have difficulty locating us otherwise. So we had no choice - we did this with my very fuzzy and nervous memory. I basically followed the Path of Pain which required me to identify and follow the various plants that clawed at us and stakes/branches that speared us. Ah yes, this is the one that really hurt like a m*th-f*kr. Oh this definitely, damn, it’s still painful! Oh oh, ouch ouch.

After much scraping and scrambling, we somehow found our way back to the trail. Right back to that little sign with the hikers and left arrow. We took a long hard look at it, and all of a sudden, something clicked. Left arrow, look to left, path on left. Oh! We’re not suppose to walk to the left of the sign, but on the OTHER path on the left of the sign. Brilliance.

The cops called us back right around our moment of epiphany to check in on how we were doing. When we told them that we finally found the right path and were going to continue, the cop gently suggested otherwise “since you girls seem to get so easily lost”. However, to salvage my wounded pride, I stood firm by the decision to complete this “easy” seven-mile Bishop’s Creek hike. Afterall, it was only 10:30am and we were fast walkers, right? Bad decision of the day, parte deux.

We were battling the tide (which fluctuates very largely) and our coastal trail was getting narrower and narrower. Our feet were hurting from walking on gravel and large pebbles. The sun was beating down on us. As I said, bad decision #2. That bad decision was equaled out by the breathtaking scenery. We encountered our first bald eagles, sea birds and flanked by two expansive glacier-carved mountain ranges. Length of hike: 5 hours.

Thankfully, nothing else was of much incident as we made our way back to the car and drove up to our next destination – Seward. I enjoy adventure but have little capacity for this brand of surprise. We checked into Melody Inn in Seward, run by a rather crazy-looking inn-keeper with alcohol and cigarettes on her breath.

Apart from being known for its amazing landscape (the Kenai Fjords), a lesser known fact is that Benny Benson came from Seward. Who is he? He’s “Seward’s favorite son”, the man that designed the flag of Alaska. Anyhow, we ventured into Seward and had our first and only 3.4 lb Alaskan king crab at the Crab Pot in downtown Seward. The shell was a little too spiky for my liking but decent size and tasty meat – overall the perfect way to end our unexpectedly eventful day.