February 26th-27th, 2009.
Who goes camping on a weekday? Only smart people that know the Yuditna Creek cabin is booked for weekend stay clear through June (and it’s currently only February).
After 11 months of being displaced from the Last Frontier, and desperately in need of an adventure, the D-man and I set out one Thursday late afternoon into the wild blue yonder, in search of the first of two Eklutna Lake cabins.
With a sleigh lassoed to Derek, and packs strapped to each of our backs, we set out perambulating the 2.8 miles to the Yuditna Creek Cabin with nightfall hastening quickly upon us. It seemed as though the moon, although only a magnificent crescent, and it’s neighboring, twinkling, little balls of fire, appeared forthwith. With each step into the encroaching darkness, an eerie, tangible silence metamorphosed. Only the crunch of our boots into the frozen snow pack was audible, and we quickly realized we were more than likely the only humanoids within a 5-10 mile radius. “Ahh…” I breathed a sigh of relief with this discovery. “Just me and Big D reunited again, without a single care in the world just like old times, no longer having to echo the chorus verses of ‘Somewhere Out There,’” I thought.
We pressed on, now by lantern light perusing out GPS’s regularly. I performed my assigned task of bringing up the rear and ensuring all sleigh contents remained affixed in their appropriate positions, while also maintaining vigilance for furry creatures, as Derek hauled the sleigh like a big, strong, yoked animal. In the silent darkness, I horrifically envisioned running into the hind end of a moose, or better yet getting trampled by one after catching it off guard. (Don’t worry, it’s normal for me to dream up the impossible and worry about trivial things!)
We came to find out that the D.P.O.R’s online coordinates were erroneous, however, there is an easily visible sign post marking the turn off to the cabin. Upon arrival, after traversing nearly 3 miles (uphill both ways of course) with a sleigh full of wood and gear, Derek discovered a nicely stacked pile of firewood under the eave on the cabin’s porch. Kindling, left over cardboard from a previous “Kegger,” and newspaper was also discovered. Even an inexperienced ignoramus was well equip enough to generate an inferno in this cabin’s wood stove. (We were really “roughing it!”)
The D-man attended to his “fire duties” while I put the finishing touches on the foil dinners. After all, it’s not camping without steak burger, spuds, and carrots mixed together in a white cream sauce and cooked on hot embers. With a quick *slam* of the stove door, dinner was off and cooking. Meanwhile, as supper cooked to perfection, Derek and I held a stake out in the windy, bitter cold for stars like true astronomy nerds. (The eternal vastness of the universe has always enthralled me. I think the Milky Way is still to this day mapped on my childhood ceiling in glow-in-the-dark stickers.) Two seconds outside in the gelid cold was all it took to get my noggin brewing ideas for optimizing star gazing. My packable air mattress seemed like the perfect solution. “Off the cold ground, laying horizontal to block wind chill….AHAH,” I thought. As I lay, all agog, gazing at the brilliant heavens above, I was reminded of how insignificant we are in this prodigious universe. A fitting quote came to mind by Edgar Abbey: “May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view…”
Derek attempted to capture stars on digital “film,” but was unsuccessful in adequately capturing their luminosity. Ding, ding, ding…time for supper. The ravenous D-man consumed approximately 1 pound of steak burger in a colossal foil dinner that night. With happy belly’s we curled up with in warm sleeping bags, toasty hot coco in hand, with my favorite (as Derek would say) “romantical” movie-“The Notebook” via a personal DVD player. (Again, we were roughing it big time!) Twas a delightful ending to a magical evening. Off to sleep….in the inferno.
The next morning, my hair very much askew, we ventured outside into the balmy “teen” digits to capture glimpses of Eklutna Lake at sunrise. The air was crisp, not even a cloud in the sky as the sun beamed radiantly over Bold Peak and neighboring mountains. Both Derek and I anticipate a nice hike up Bold Ridge, and someday Bold Peak this year. Great vistas of both were enjoyed and photographed mightily. We soon realized that one liter of our water supply was missing, and Derek the Great began vigorously melting snow in order to quench our thirst and rejuvenate our parched bodies prior to trekking “homeward-bound.” We also devoured blueberry muffins for breakfast before checkout time at 1200 for strength and stamina. A clear sky allowed us to conclude that the lake’s ice was sufficiently thick enough to support our passage, and we traversed the lake on the way back to the truck. Interesting ice formations were visualized and we even bagged a geocache ("Eklutna Escapade") on the way out. All in all a delightful belated Valentine’s Day adventure. :)
…On to the next adventure…
Who goes camping on a weekday? Only smart people that know the Yuditna Creek cabin is booked for weekend stay clear through June (and it’s currently only February).
After 11 months of being displaced from the Last Frontier, and desperately in need of an adventure, the D-man and I set out one Thursday late afternoon into the wild blue yonder, in search of the first of two Eklutna Lake cabins.
With a sleigh lassoed to Derek, and packs strapped to each of our backs, we set out perambulating the 2.8 miles to the Yuditna Creek Cabin with nightfall hastening quickly upon us. It seemed as though the moon, although only a magnificent crescent, and it’s neighboring, twinkling, little balls of fire, appeared forthwith. With each step into the encroaching darkness, an eerie, tangible silence metamorphosed. Only the crunch of our boots into the frozen snow pack was audible, and we quickly realized we were more than likely the only humanoids within a 5-10 mile radius. “Ahh…” I breathed a sigh of relief with this discovery. “Just me and Big D reunited again, without a single care in the world just like old times, no longer having to echo the chorus verses of ‘Somewhere Out There,’” I thought.
We pressed on, now by lantern light perusing out GPS’s regularly. I performed my assigned task of bringing up the rear and ensuring all sleigh contents remained affixed in their appropriate positions, while also maintaining vigilance for furry creatures, as Derek hauled the sleigh like a big, strong, yoked animal. In the silent darkness, I horrifically envisioned running into the hind end of a moose, or better yet getting trampled by one after catching it off guard. (Don’t worry, it’s normal for me to dream up the impossible and worry about trivial things!)
We came to find out that the D.P.O.R’s online coordinates were erroneous, however, there is an easily visible sign post marking the turn off to the cabin. Upon arrival, after traversing nearly 3 miles (uphill both ways of course) with a sleigh full of wood and gear, Derek discovered a nicely stacked pile of firewood under the eave on the cabin’s porch. Kindling, left over cardboard from a previous “Kegger,” and newspaper was also discovered. Even an inexperienced ignoramus was well equip enough to generate an inferno in this cabin’s wood stove. (We were really “roughing it!”)
The D-man attended to his “fire duties” while I put the finishing touches on the foil dinners. After all, it’s not camping without steak burger, spuds, and carrots mixed together in a white cream sauce and cooked on hot embers. With a quick *slam* of the stove door, dinner was off and cooking. Meanwhile, as supper cooked to perfection, Derek and I held a stake out in the windy, bitter cold for stars like true astronomy nerds. (The eternal vastness of the universe has always enthralled me. I think the Milky Way is still to this day mapped on my childhood ceiling in glow-in-the-dark stickers.) Two seconds outside in the gelid cold was all it took to get my noggin brewing ideas for optimizing star gazing. My packable air mattress seemed like the perfect solution. “Off the cold ground, laying horizontal to block wind chill….AHAH,” I thought. As I lay, all agog, gazing at the brilliant heavens above, I was reminded of how insignificant we are in this prodigious universe. A fitting quote came to mind by Edgar Abbey: “May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view…”
Derek attempted to capture stars on digital “film,” but was unsuccessful in adequately capturing their luminosity. Ding, ding, ding…time for supper. The ravenous D-man consumed approximately 1 pound of steak burger in a colossal foil dinner that night. With happy belly’s we curled up with in warm sleeping bags, toasty hot coco in hand, with my favorite (as Derek would say) “romantical” movie-“The Notebook” via a personal DVD player. (Again, we were roughing it big time!) Twas a delightful ending to a magical evening. Off to sleep….in the inferno.
The next morning, my hair very much askew, we ventured outside into the balmy “teen” digits to capture glimpses of Eklutna Lake at sunrise. The air was crisp, not even a cloud in the sky as the sun beamed radiantly over Bold Peak and neighboring mountains. Both Derek and I anticipate a nice hike up Bold Ridge, and someday Bold Peak this year. Great vistas of both were enjoyed and photographed mightily. We soon realized that one liter of our water supply was missing, and Derek the Great began vigorously melting snow in order to quench our thirst and rejuvenate our parched bodies prior to trekking “homeward-bound.” We also devoured blueberry muffins for breakfast before checkout time at 1200 for strength and stamina. A clear sky allowed us to conclude that the lake’s ice was sufficiently thick enough to support our passage, and we traversed the lake on the way back to the truck. Interesting ice formations were visualized and we even bagged a geocache ("Eklutna Escapade") on the way out. All in all a delightful belated Valentine’s Day adventure. :)
…On to the next adventure…
Yuditna Creek Cabin. 
The Runtman hauling the paraphernalia, only to find that the cabin has a supply of wood.
Found the turn off in the dark.
Just doing a little star gazing in frigid arctic temps.
View from Yuditna Creek Cabin porch.
Sunrise over Bold Peak.
I know, I look amazing in the AM!
A humble abode.
Frosty trees.
Lovely sunrise.
The Waterboy.
Bold Peak at twilight.
The D-man and I.
Behold El Runtman, homeward bound! 
Yuditna Creek Cabin as seen at a glance from the Lake.
Lookie, a geocache.
Making our way down from finding a geocache, back to the sleigh. 
Magnificent ice formations seen while traversing the lake. 
I'll do anything for a good pic.
Our sled on the lake.
Looking across Eklutna Lake one last time at our nemesis to be conquered.
Bold Peak (elevation 7522 ft), and part of Bold Ridge...again.
Found us a little shelter on the beach at Eklutna Lake. I prefered to sleep in the cabin though. 
This was also a scouting venture for tackling Bold Ridge.
Victory Shot with the beloved sled at the truck. 
