Denali Days : In a Pristine National Park, Women’s Group Experiences Companionship, State of Wonder

We emerge from our tents seeking the day’s first cup of coffee. It is 7 a.m., but here in the tundra below Mt. McKinley this July morning, there is already midday light. Also in search of breakfast is a reddish brown fox that has boldly walked into camp. The plentiful Arctic ground squirrels will be easy prey for him as they scurry about, oblivious to the campers.

We are in Savage River Campground, in the eastern section of Denali National Park. This Massachusetts-sized preserve, surrounding the highest peak in North America, is about 250 miles north of Anchorage. Because of government protections limiting development and traffic, Denali survives as one of the most pristine of America’s national parks.

The 13 members of our all-woman group--lawyers, doctors, businesswomen and other professionals from New York to California--share a sense of adventure and an appreciation for the wilderness. Our leader is Carole Latimer, founder of the Berkeley-based Call of the Wild, a woman’s outdoor adventure school. Latimer has been guiding women on wilderness experiences for the past 15 years, and many of us know each other from previous trips.

The dynamics of female camaraderie are part of what has brought us here today. Women in this particular group are on the fast track, juggling career and family. For a lot of us, this trip is a chance to slow down.

We are camping Denali-style, clearing our campground each day as park rules demand, to discourage visits from marauding animals, especially bears. We put all our food, food containers, cooking utensils and coolers in our van.

Soon we join the ranks of the bus-riding tourists, packing ourselves into one of the many shuttles that provide the major access into the park. Our driver introduces himself as John Moore: “My job is to watch the road. Your job is to watch for wildlife. Just yell, ‘Stop!’ ”

For the first 15 miles, the road is paved and open to private vehicles, with roadside services and campgrounds, including the one where our group is staying. The rest of the 97-mile road--most of it narrow, dusty and unpaved--begins at Savage River Canyon, where visitors must board U.S. Park Service shuttles or private tour buses, or begin their hike.

Equipped with my camera equipment, including a 600-millimeter lens for photographing wildlife, I make my way to the back of the bus, where I can leap from one side to the other as we journey through the beautiful green taiga (a Russian term for “land of little sticks,” referring to the scant, undersized trees).

It is unseasonably hot, in the 80s, and we’re told by our bus driver that animal sightings probably will be down today. Summer temperatures average in the low- to mid-60s, and in this heat the animals will be hunkered down somewhere in the shaded brush. But it’s a clear, sunny day and mighty McKinley--20,320 feet of sharply angled snow, ice and rock--comes into view. We are fortunate. The mountain is visible 20%-25% of the time. It’s spectacular!

Today’s trip promises a hot, dusty ride on a school bus with nearly 50 other people for the next 12 hours. But this is the only way many of the 500,000 who visit Denali annually see the park, some of them taking an inland break from their Alaskan cruise packages. Though the buses seem unglamorous and restrictive, they minimize human intrusion into the park. Even so, they run at full capacity, and reservations are required.

Denali is one of the few national parks where wildlife remains truly wild. The handful of hikers traveling the back country here can experience a nearly pure environment. But even overnight backpackers don’t have easy access. They must wait, sometimes for days, for a permit issued only one day in advance.

Near Polychrome Summit, our bus slows and driver John points out a marmot sunning itself on Marmot Hill. Another one appears. It’s getting more interesting through a camera lens, but John drives on.

We stop for lunch at Eielson Visitor Center, named after Alaska’s first pioneer bush pilot, Carl Ben Eielson. As we eat our bagels, tomatoes and cheese, the view of Mt. McKinley--with its sheer white and gray walls against the pristine blue sky--is awe-inspiring. The Athabascan native people gave the massive peak the name Denali, meaning “the High One.” Today, many people in Alaska refer to McKinley by its Athabascan name. It is the crown of the 600-mile-long Alaska Range.

After lunch, it is five more hours to the end of the road. Our bus finally makes it to Wonder Lake, a four-mile-long, 280-foot-deep hole in the tundra. But there’s no time to explore its shores, and we are herded back onto the bus for the six-hour ride back to Savage River Campground.

It is beginning to cool off as we make our way around Polychrome Mountain. Our wildlife sightings soon increase. We spot a caribou off in the distance. Another bus passes and our driver gives the caribou hand signal: thumb to the forehead and four fingers extended upward. We’re on a roll now. As we make our way through Sable Pass, we spot a mother grizzly and her two cubs digging through the boykinia, or bear flower. This area is called the Sable Pass Critical Habitat Wildlife Closure. It is prime grizzly habitat and, except for the road, is closed to humans. On our way again, we reach Igloo Creek, where a cow moose is kicking up her heels as she skids across a patch of snow on the tundra.

We make our way off the bus at 10 p.m. The sun is still high in the sky. While part of our group begins to cook dinner, a friend and I head off to a campground store in search of some Alaskan Pale Ale, badly needed after the heat and dust of the day’s ride.

Tonight we’ll have Mexican tabouli , black bean soup and tequila shooters with fresh lime. Call of the Wild is known for its delicious meals. Other nights there will be Thai tom yum and Szechuan snow peas, linguine and pesto, sherried mushroom bisque--even flaming cherries jubilee one night for dessert.

On our second day in Denali, we will hike to Primrose Ridge, elevation 4,300 feet. We begin our 2,500-foot ascent at Savage River bridge. From below, the tundra looks soft and velvety. In reality, the ground is mostly lumpy permafrost, softened with mosses and lichen.

This is bear country, so some of the women have tied bells to their shoes and packs to scare away any that might be residing in the thick underbrush. Finally at the ridge, the bells come off and we can hear the wind blow. Everywhere I turn, the scenery looks like a painted backdrop, almost too beautiful to be real.

Our lunch of crackers, cheese, celery, peanut butter and dried bananas fortifies us for the more challenging terrain ahead. We continue traversing the ridge and arrive at a steep face of scree--loose, silty rock. On all fours we begin our climb. Some of the group members have turned back. I’m questioning my sanity, having loaded down my pack with 35 pounds of mostly camera gear.

Five of us finally reach the top. With its covering of soft, mossy grass, the wide clearing looks like a park playground. Walking along the ridge we spot a handful of rams on the outcropping of the ridge. They make ridge climbing look so simple as they amble up an incline and leap up a rocky patch of scree.

A few of us are back for more of the shuttle bus today. It’s cooler and our plan is to hike down the ridge at the Eielson Visitor Center and crisscross the river, then return to the center to catch the last bus back to our camp at Savage River. As we make our way down the steep, perfumed path, the purple and yellow hues of the wildflowers carpet the landscape. We bushwhack our way through thick growth until we reach the river. I wade in with the rest of the group, but leave the crossings to others when the water level reaches our waists.

The sky is changing rapidly. I can smell rain in the air. Clouds above us are moving rapidly and changing from white to gray to black before my eyes. The morning gave us a blue, cloudless sky, but by late afternoon Denali is swallowed up by cloud cover. The distant roar of thunder, followed by crackling bolts of lightning, echo through the canyon. We climb up the ridge back to the visitor center as the sky roils, and we discover our bus is ready to depart. By the time we’ve reached Highway Pass, the rain is coming down in torrents, bringing some falling rock down on the slippery, narrow mountain road. As our bus fishtails near the edge of a steep incline, the passengers around me are getting nervous and the tension is rising. One more pass to make it through and we’re home free.

As we begin our climb through Polychrome Pass, the light becomes heavenly. A rainbow appears as the storm’s fury lessens. Rays of light play on Polychrome Mountain while black clouds hover. I try to persuade the driver to stop. When he finds out it’s only because I’m trying to photograph the light and a rainbow, he’s on his way at top speed.

We arrive back at Savage River and decide not to cook in the rain: It’s going to be pizza night out at Lynx Creek Pizza, 17 miles away, just outside the park. Civilization has its rewards, too.

GUIDEBOOK

High on Denali

Getting there: Delta and Alaska Airlines offer direct flights from LAX to Fairbanks. United has connecting flights. Two-week advance-purchase tickets, $445 round trip. Alaska Railroad has daily summer service from Fairbanks to Denali, $47 one way; tel. (800) 544-0552.

Accommodations: Campground sites $12 nightly, $3 backpackers; tel. (800) 622-7275 after March 1.

Tour: Carole Latimer, Call of the Wild, 2519 Cedar St., Berkeley, Calif. 94708; tel. (800) 742-9494.

For more information: Contact Denali National Park and Preserve, P.O. Box 9, Denali Park, Alaska 99755; tel. (907) 683-2294.