A Well Kept Secret - Palmer Moose Creek Trail

Hey Tribe,

I’m going to let you in on a special, secret little-known, trail that has a “locals only” vibe to it.  It is a simple trail, not very technical, and feels so secluded: the hiking trail version of the Secret Garden.  Actually “hiking” isn’t really an accurate description for this trail – it is more of a walking trail, as if you were strolling through Palmer’s very own secret (natural) garden.

As all good gardens should have, this trail has water features (the Matanuska river), framed views (hello, Pioneer Peak), and sculptural elements (vintage railway cars, anyone?).  That’s right: railway cars.  History buffs will appreciate the old railroad tracks that can be seen along the trail, as well as a scattering of rail cars that are slowly tumbling down the embankment and being reclaimed by nature.  It is a six-mile one way wander from Palmer to Sutton. 

  

TheMother and I had a slightly difficult time finding the trailhead, because it is tucked way back in a neighborhood, and the parking area for visitors only holds about three cars.  We circled the block several times and then realized it was indeed where we were supposed to park; luckily a parking spot had just opened up, so we parallel parked and eagerly hopped out of the truck.

The mini parking area with the trailhead just visible across the road to the left.

Look for this.  It subtly marks the beginning/end of the trail.

Fly being silly in the fireweed.

This trail is enjoyable because the scenery changes in sections.  First it is wide with grasses, then deep with birch trees, then rocky with scrub bushes that allow views of the river and mountains, then, finally thick with alders and willows.  We did not complete the entire trail, only half of it, so I cannot currently write about the half on the Sutton side - a future post, perhaps this winter.

It starts out looking like this.

Then this.

Then this.

Then this.

Then this.

Annnnd this.

We enjoyed spotting the old rails along the ground, or elevated on the bank beside us – it was like a game of hide and seek.  I kept imagining what it must have looked like when the rails were in use: probably the trees were clear-cut, the mighty Matanuska river in full view of the rumbling trains that carried coal and other necessary supplies into Interior Alaska.  I’m sure it was glorious.

Spawning salmon splashed in the veins of the river that ran parallel to and below us.  Their sudden flaps and flops and bursts of energy were merry water sounds that coordinated well with the surrounding woodland.

  

Rockslides were a technical obstacle and there were several places where the trail was wiped out of existence and we had to cautiously pick our way across the slide, being careful to not disturb the unstable ground too much, which would have resulted in us tumbling down the embankment together with a cascade of boulders and gravel.

Finally, after three miles we arrived at our destination: a rusty train car that was just off the path and safe enough to explore.  There had been others along the way, but they were in more dilapidated conditions than this one and were either clinging to the slope or partially submerged in the murky silt water at the bottom of the bank.

Fly was initially cautious, but after a few inquisitive sniffs, she hopped into the overturned hulk and made her way through the darkened interior of the passenger car.

Before I could stop her, she reached the dead end of the car and leapt up through the glassless window and onto the top (actually the side) of the structure.  She isn’t afraid of heights, I’ll tell you that.  Our brave heroine then proceeded to thoroughly investigate the car from all angles.

The forest is slowly reclaiming its space and is encasing the historical prize in a leafy cocoon; moss and lichen adorn the time-weathered steel.  A hush blanketed the area as we explored the vintage piece – the quietness punctuated only by my fretful calls for Fly to be careful and the impudent chatter of a nearby squirrel.  It was a bit somber there, the gravesite of a forgotten era, so we did not spend too much time disturbing the scene.

Those splashing salmon were too much of a draw for us to walk past them during our return, so we chose a rockslide area to maneuver our way down to the riverbed.  The sun was warm here on the open rocky expanse and we thoroughly enjoyed walking downstream alone the bank while Fly waded into the cool water and caught salmon. 

It was one of those wonderful late summer days that Alaskans hold so dear and the afternoon stretched into evening before we climbed back up onto the secluded trail and headed for home. 

This walk is everything a person needs to avoid the crowds, feel like a local, and tour Alaska’s secret garden.