Portage Pass Trail

Hi there!

One of the main hikes I absolutely had to experience this year was Portage Pass.  It was on my list last year, but I never seemed to have the time to go.  This weekend, however, Fly, TheMother, and I made plans and drove the two hours to Whittier to hike the illusive pass.

A bit of a misnomer, the hike to view Portage glacier starts, not in Portage, but in Whittier.  Hikers must drive past the Portage Visitor’s Center (actually named Begich , Boggs Visitors Center, but I’ve only ever heard it called by the former name) and through a series of tunnels that serve both vehicles and trains.  It is a fun experience – taking turns with the trains and the traffic flowing in the opposite direction – and there are at least seven glaciers (by my count) to view while waiting in line to go through the tunnel to Whittier.  Whittier itself is a quaint little town, but I’ll save it for a later post.

Once in Whittier, the trailhead was well marked and the parking lot was fairly full when we arrived in the late morning.  The trail map left a lot to be desired and the details I could find online and in my hiking book were pretty vague, so we didn’t know exactly what we would encounter. 

The details we did know were pretty accurate: a one mile climb up to the pass, a one mile descent down to the lake, and then the same in reverse.  The climb, while not severe, did have us pausing quite a bit to catch our breath, but the view when we stopped and turned around was well worth the breaks and nearly as breathtaking as the physical effort.

At the top of the pass, we were rewarded with a marvelous view of Portage glacier in its current hiding spot: around the corner from the Visitor’s Center, where it used to be visible when I was a little girl, but has since retreated.  Now, it only gives visitors a tantalizing taste of its beauty by releasing icebergs in the summer that flow down to the Visitor’s Center for their viewing pleasure.  To see the glacier itself, visitors must either pay to take a ferryboat ride or do this hike.

The descent to the lake, with a closer view of the glacier was easy: made easier by the excitement and anticipation of reaching our goal.  The trail was a bit rocky in places and muddy in others, but not annoyingly so, and it eventually fanned out to a rocky beach at the lake’s edge where bits of iceberg lingered as they melted in the warm sunshine. 

A Boy Scout group was just packing the remnants of their campsite as we approached and when they left, we had the lakeside to ourselves for a bit.  We lunched and Fly explored the area and tentatively waded around in the icy water.

Introduction to the ice.

Still not sure.

We watched the tourist ferryboat glide up to the glacier and suddenly the blue chunk of ice looked every bit as massive as it truly is: the large ship, floating at the base of the glacier, looked minuscule.  Glaciers are truly impressive and awesome to behold; I hope I never grow jaded from looking at them.

Look closely to see the ferryboat outlined against the rocks at the center base of the glacier.

Moose salami and home-smoked cheddar cheese gave us a boost of energy and we picked our way across the rocky slope back toward the trail, while taking lingering glances over our shoulders to gaze “one last time” at the glacier and it’s placid lake.  Of course, the trail seemed steeper than we remembered, undoubtedly because of our excitement while going down, but the trees provided shady resting spots where we could ease our heat rates.  During one of these breaks, I spotted a black bear on the slope across from us and we watched it as we hiked, since it was moving parallel to our trail.

Soon, we began passing increasing amounts of hikers who were on their way to the glacier.  We celebrated our timeliness and luck at having the lake to ourselves, before this horde descended on it.  I spotted two more black bears on the same slope to our left as the first bear, only these were closer and in front of the first bear.  All three were making their way toward the same pass that we were heading toward; we picked up our pace as best we could, so as to reach the pass before the bears. 

Luckily, the two bears in the lead decided to go up the mountain, instead of down, and when we reached the pass, no bears were in sight.  Fly would have been ready, but I like to avoid bears whenever possible.  All our hard hiking was rewarded with lovely views of the blue/green waters of Prince William Sound as we descended toward Whittier.

At the bottom of the trail, which is flat and unassuming, we passed a family of hikers: a man, woman, and their three young (under the age of 8) daughters - they were dressed as if they had just stepped off the cruise ship at port in town and carried nothing with them.  I wanted to tell them they would, at the very least, need a water bottle, but decided my advice would be unwelcome.   I am, I admit, an over-prepared hiker, but I’m continually shocked at the utter disregard for safety and preparedness that is shown by hikers in Alaska.  Weather is unpredictable, animals are large and lack a sense of humor, accidents such as falls happen, water and food are scarce, and help is often far away.  Hikers should take responsibility for their own wellbeing and this family was the epitome of irresponsible hiking.  They puzzled over the trail map for a minute, before heading up the trail – the little girls asking how far it was and the man saying he was sure it would be easy.  I doubt they reached the pass, let alone the glacier, which is unfortunate, because it is a destination well worth the effort of carrying a water bottle and wearing proper shoes.