This is a very short, but very strenuous, hike with incredible summit views of the Twin Peaks, Bold…read morePeak, and Bashful Peak (the highest mountain in the Chugach). It is usually starting to melt out in April, although it can be done year-round with the right equipment. Micro spikes are useful for snow in the winter and snow and mud in the shoulder seasons. No five stars for Gold Star because the summit contains a lot of stuff that I would consider litter. Man-made trinkets that take away from the beauty of nature. But, it is outside the boundary of Chugach State Park so I don't think it's illegal or anything. I would expect it to take the average hiker 2-4 hours up, half that down.

This peak is accessed from the penguin creek trail:…read morehttps://www.yelp.com/biz/penguin-creek-trail-anchorage Depending on who you ask, it may be considered the most difficult hike in Chugach State Park. It definitely requires lots of off-trail travel and navigation, that's for sure! Here's my trip report from when I summitted it: We left the penguin creek trail shortly after and began our traverse into the hanging valley. We ended up maintaining an elevation of roughly 1400 ft before steadily ascending to 2600 ft to drop down into the hanging valley. This decision was...OK. It wasn't a sufferfest, but it wasn't exactly great. There was definitely some bad snow and some alder-wrangling. The lake of any chlorophyll in any of the foilage made route-finding through it much easier...but there was still ample grunting and rubber-banding-gunning of branches. Rather than take the full ridge up Bird, we decided to go up-valley and then gain the ridge near "Point 4800"/"Point 4840" (I've heard it called both things, and on my map it isn't either of these elevations, anyone know where this name is documented?) Anyway, we started ascending form the valley floor at roughly 60.9989, -149.3137. It was mostly snow climbing on snow of marginal quality. Lower down it was very bad wallowing, so we climbed the rock bands. Eventually the rock bands ended and we were climbing a spine of snow (reminded my of the "hogsback" from my Mt Hood climbing days!). It was straightforward ascending, but extremely bad visibility was a little anxiety-inducing. We were in and out of rolling whiteouts and there was so little contrast my camera couldn't auto-focus, ha! We kept taking the obvious gully up, and eventually were dumped out onto a flattish rock band. From there steep, firm snow climbing to gained the ridge proper. (we didn't put our crampons on for this, but we probably should have) We aggressively side-hilled to avoid going up and over Point 48XX, a decision that didn't end up saving any time. Knife-hard Icy snow slopes peppered sloppy scree fields making travel annoying, unless you're really good at crampon-changing! Eventually we were at a low-point in the ridge, where I found a sneaky route down. I was a line I had heard described in some trip reports at the end of the valley that could take you directly to the summit ridge and probably save a lot of time, if it had snow on it. There was a ton of good-looking snow on it, so I noted it in caltopo (60.9981, -149.2958) for a possible, hot-pizza-at-Moose's Tooth-preserving descent short-cut. What we did next is hard to describe, but sticking to the ridge became difficult so we started side-willing east towards the true summit. Eventually we were on and off of really bad choss that was either dusted with half-melted powder or hardened by rime ice (similar to what Kevin Downie experienced last fall: https://www.peakbagger.com/climber/ascent.aspx?aid=1524570) . I can see how this would be a fun scramble in the summer, but dodging icy gullies and scraping choss with crampons was not! Abbey found an "easy" icy ramp to the summit area (I thought it was kinda scary), and after front-pointing on some rime, we reached the snow-and-rime dome that is the Bird Peak summit...to absolutely zero views. Vis was probably at 20-30 ft? There was enough visibility for us to scout an easy snow ramp that would take us down from the summit. (Anything to avoid down-climbing the Abbey M0 variation!) Long story short, the snow ramp was also extremely hard snow. It would've protected beautifully with even vertical pickets. We just kept our heads down and slowly front-pointed down it for what seemed like forever. Eventually we got back down to the scree slopes, took the crampons off, and started side-hilling back to the ridge (west). We went right to the descent line I had marked and...it still looked pretty good. I got out and tested it a little and it was just too hard to tell what the quality of the snow would be once we got out on it. I still had some mild anxiety from the summit downclimb and wasn't interested it going down a long slope with that level of firmness (especially with my crappy ultra light crampons, but that's for another time) We talked about it and, with some hesitancy, decided to go down the way we came up. We didn't side-hill Peak 48XX this time, we stayed pretty high, and travel was much faster! We found where we were topped out on the ridge, put our crampons on, and started down-climbing. The first small section was really steep, but eventually we were quickly plunge stepping down the slopes. I decided to go left (south) down a different way than what we came up to make it a pure snow down-climb. Heavy, wet snow in this area made for perfect wet-cement, slow-and-steady glissade conditions. We then trudged through chunky-water-style snow back to our tent, and we quickly saturated our gaitered mountaineering boots. Good day in the hills? Um, kinda?

Yukla has been on my radar since I moved to Anchorage from Portland. I heard about it in the worst…read moreway possible. Another Portland climber, Dasan Marshall, had died climbing it in January of 2015. The first thing I did was google the mountain and look upon all of the gnarly mixed ice routes on its west and north faces. I quickly decided this mountain was "not for me". I satiated my thirst for high places with pedestrian Chugach hikes, punctuated with trips to the lower 48 to grapple alpine rock in the Wind River Range and the Sierra. Then, in the early days of COVID, when we were being told to limit any and all "risky" activity, Abbey and I took a leisurely hike to Echo Bend and saw an incredible, snowy view of the mountain. I decided to probe a little bit deeper, and eventually found there were some far easier ways up it. I'm not sure what this route is called. Northeast gully? Northeast Face? Twinsicle Pass? Anyway, the line we took goes up from Twin Falls, up the Twinsicle Glacier, through the pass, and corkscrews around to the NE side of the peak. We had foolishly penciled in Yukla for the 3-day Memorial Day weekend because, that's how weather works, right? It looked like the forecast was going to improve so we decided to give it a go. Worst-case scenario, we would have a soggy and secluded backcountry camping experience. We headed out Sunday around noon. The hike from Eagle River Nature center on the maintained trail to the Twin Falls area was mostly uneventful and felt quick. We reached the creek where it was time to branch off and up into the Twinsicle drainage and...we saw an adorable squirrel. Dead. In the creek. It looked so peaceful. It looked pristine and holy, like it was just taking a nap. More weird Yukla omens, yay. A little less than 6 hours after setting off for camp, we were at the iconic boulder that most folks seem to camp near. (not to be confused with the iconic/infamous "boulder bivy" in Icicle Creek, one drainage over!) We found the flattest spot, cracked open some beers (my first time bringing my canned homebrew on a Chugach 120 mission!), and setup camp. We went to bed about 8pm for a planned alpine-ish start of 4:30 am. It felt like I had just begun to fall asleep when...I was being shaken awake? The shaking then continued. And continued. Eventually I realized it was an earthquake. Abbey had also woken up. We heard rockfall. Having had two near-miss/bad-fall/thought-I-was-dying experiences in the mountains, all I could think of in my drowsy state was "let it come." If the mountains wanted to unceremoniously smush me in a tent while I was asleep, that seemed fine for some reason. Abbey peaked out of the tent and notified me that none of the rockfall seemed to be coming near us as I was drifting back to sleep. The weather was fine. We decided to wake up and see if we could get up this thing. We started trudging up the snow towards Twinsicle Pass, it was also fine. There was no post-holing, but a little bit of softness made every step take a smidge more energy that if the snow were firm Styrofoam. Eventually we reached the start of the glacier (according to the old scanned USGS topo maps, we had our doubts). We were greeted by a prompt Pika. It was having the time of its life screaming at us. We continued up, and stayed center-left, basing our path on previous trip reports we had read. We chose not to rope up as the snow grew firmer the closer we got to the pass. Any exposed cracks we could see were very small and easily avoided. At the pass, the wind picked up and the clouds rolled in. I suddenly had most of my summit motivation blown clear off of me. I didn't want to dampen Abbey's spirits, so I didn't say anything. I then left the shelter of Abbey's great kick steps, and started corkscrewing us around the mountain onto the NE side. There was a faint but obvious boot pack from the many folks that had been up Yukla in the sunnier days before. Eventually we stopped side-hilling and were going up mostly firm snow with our crampons, axes, and whippets. We went up the false summit and down-climbed it on the other side, facing-in. As we made our way closer to the true summit, the clouds continued to clear. At last we were on what was unmistakably the true summit. Brutal exposure fell off the west side. From this point one can really see the stark contrast between the two faces of Chugach State Park: the public-facing "dense green growth on brown slopes snaked by braided rivers" and the glacial "land of always winter". When we got back to camp it started drizzling, because of course it did. We took some big swigs of plastic-flasked Scotch and tried to delay packing up the tent for as long as we could. Besides the intense tenderization of our feet from far too much time in rigid boots, the hike out was largely uneventful. Moose's Tooth pizza and beer were had, with time to spare. It really felt like we pulled one over on the Chugach.

Stunning! The views are breathtaking from start to finish, and the trail itself is well-kept and…read moreeasy to follow. The scenery changes as you go, with incredible overlooks and peaceful spots to take it all in. Definitely a must-see if you're in the area!

This is a great hike! It's probably right around the longest you can go for a weekday, after-work…read morehike...and still get to bed at a normal time. (unless you trail-run, of course) If you start at the Bear Valley trailhead, the stats are: 5.4 miles round trip, 2,300 ft. elevation gain BIG SIDE RANT INCOMING: About that trailhead. It's located in an area with many McMansions. The people that live in these McMansions chose to build their McMansions within spitting distance of PUBLIC lands. And yet, they hate it when people use these public lands. Parking is tiny and STRICT. The police left these wealthy McMansion owners with a sign explaining these rules. Rampant theft in all of Anchorage and these one-percenters in the hills waste law enforcement's time because someone parked on the side of the road. Of course, their excuse for this is "safety", because of course it is. Safety, like children, is always a great excuse to get your way. WHAT?! ARE YOU SAYING YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT SAFETY?! WHAT IF MY HOUSE IS ON FIRE AND THE FIRE ENGINE TAKES 2 SECONDS LONGER BECAUSE A HIKER PARKED ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD? The icing on top is that these McMansions are usually vacant. Such beautiful land with beautiful views: wasted. Anyway, be prepared to not have a parking spot if you're here on a good weather day and/or a weekend. There is an "overflow" (seems silly to use "overflow" when the "main" lot only has 3-4 spaces) place you can park, but it will add another half-mile to your hike. A half-mile with scenic views of McMansions. The hike takes you a softly-undulating ridge. It leads up and down a few false-summits until you arrive at the castle-turret-looking formation that is the true summit of McHugh Peak. There are numerous ways to the top, of varying difficulty. Plan your route accordingly. If you start to climb up and feels very difficulty, maybe back down and try a different side. There is some steep relief on some sides of the summit. A fall would be...."real bad".

This starts at the same trailhead:…read more https://www.yelp.com/biz/prospect-heights-trailhead-anchorage as Wolverine Peak: https://www.yelp.com/biz/wolverine-peak-anchorage I think of this one as a "baby Wolverine". Like.... *SPOILERS FOR A MARVEL MOVIE BELOW THIS* Like that little girl in the movie "Logan". *END SPOILERS* Anyway. It's a decent hike. The start is the same as Wolverine, and it's brushy as hell. It's scary. Bring bear spray, know how to use it and be loud. Once you exit the brush, the trail keeps going up and up, but no one point is super-steep. You won't use your hands (like flattop). There isn't much exposure (big cliff drops) here either, so it's a great hike for your friends that are afraid of heights. In all honesty though, I feel like the views from Wolverine are MUCH better...and it doesn't take THAT much longer (maybe an hour or two). So I'd probably do that one instead. This is a great winter hike as the trailhead is much easier to get to than others in town. It's not anywhere near as snow, or icy, or steep as even some place like Glenn Alps.

I see this hike as the Anchorage equivalent to Mt. Baldy in neighboring Eagle River. Also, most…read morelocals equate Mt. Baldy with Flattop. So... I guess you could say this is a far less crowded alternative to Flattop. It can be accessed via the Prospect Heights Trailhead and provides great views of the Anchorage bowl. It gets pretty windy up here sometimes so I would bring extra layers even on a sunny day. There's not much else to say except you reach Williwaw Lakes if you continue on towards the Campbell Creek Canyon Trail. Although most people seem to go the opposite direction for a pretty great overnighter.

I really like this trail. It's the type of trail that you can't pin the direction it's going to go…read more You're kind of just weaving your way up and around. The trail (in October when we went) gets progressively more muddy as the you get higher. Most of the first couple miles are in the trees and shrubs. Around the 2.4 mile mark you come to a picnic table and an open viewing area. All that said, it's really not a great trail when it's muddy. Scary in places really. Especially coming down. Excited to try it out in summer after a couple really warm, really dry days.

Probably the most brutal hike in the Anchorage bowl!…read more It's short on mileage but HEAVY on gain. Trail has great views of the Knick Glacier as well as some nice wild flower-sprinkled tundra near the end. The trail ends at a ridge that eventually reaches the shorter of Pioneer Peak's two summits. I would not recommend this section unless you are very comfortable with exposed scrambling and/or you are a confident rock climber. Once on the South Summit you can glimpse at the slighty taller, "true" summit: the North Summit. Our intentions were to downclimb from the South Summit and then go upthe North...but after climbing down the ball bearing scree with sickening runouts, we decided to go get breakfast in Palmer instead. It's very tough to get to the true summit from this trail head, best options would be: 1) Do it when there is snow on the summits, might be easier to downclimb and then climb up the other side if there is enough snow. At least you could arrest a fall with an axe. 2) Climb the North Face route, which leads directly to the North Summit. This is best done in late spring. There is considerable avalanche risk if conditions aren't perfect. 3) Have bigger balls than us and just go for it when it's dry.

I'd done some research on short trails near Anchorage and it was a toss up between this and…read moreThunderbird Falls. Having read reviews of both, I decided on Barbara Falls based on trail reports and its relative proximity to the Eagle River Nature area, my other morning destination. Parking is on Ken Logan Circle but is limited and has some areas posted for No Parking. The property surrounding the trailhead is private so stay on trail and be respectful of the residents. We ended up being the first people on trail around 10 am and as we left around 11:15, it was filling up. There are two ways to the falls. One is to cross the bridge and head up to an upper viewing deck. Then you can double back, cross the bridge as if you're going down to the lot and to your left there are a few rock stairs that lead you along the river and fantastic views of the lower falls. It's about 1.5 miles total if you do both short trails. On the lower trails, especially (but really all through the hike) make noise and carry bear spray. The lower trail has some denser brush and is a narrow path where you could surprise wildlife if not making yourself known. All in all, a great first hike in Alaska!

This peak is relatively low elevation, and starts at a marked trail head: the generically named…read more"East Fork Trail" on the south side of Eklutna Lake. Given the distance from the trailhead and relatively low elevation Abbey and I definitely underestimated this one, DO NOT be like us! We leisurely biked in on Saturday morning, set up a camp on Eklutna Lake near the crowded Bold airstrip, and were hiking out on the trail by 1pm. We didn't have a route in mind that we were 100% committed to. We had read mixed things about many of them. The trail was delightfully NOT overgrown (I've been in here just a few weeks late in the season, and it was a jungle). We got to the falls and started trying to find a way up the West/NW Ridge. I encountered my first strand of scratchy Devils Club, looked at Abbey and said "I'm not doing this". We had also caught a glimpse of the trail as it continued across the creek, it looked to be in great shape. And it was. As we continued to navigate the mountain, we continued to look up toward the summit and see a face littered with walls of vertical rock. It all looked very, very bad. A maze of grassy slopes and rock drop-offs. Eventually, we had curved around south and west of the summit and kept going. We then saw a clear, easy route up the mountain.! It was a magical veggieless path of scree and then snow up an alder-choked stretch of mountain. Just like we had heard it described by others. And then we saw a black bear right next to the scree slopes, munching on grass. We yelled at Them, and then yelled at Them some more and...They didn't really move. They just continued to graze, walk into the brush, walk out of the brush, repeat. Eventually the bear was out of view, and we started making our way up in the blistering heat. Progress was slow, but eventually the mountain cooled. Scree gave way to snow, and we could start to feel the gentle breezes of the valley. We got on the snow and it was much easier going. Great boot snow with no need for crampons. Eventually the snow we were on continued to thin and snake into a narrow constriction. The rock all around us was closing in and was really rotten. At some point the snow was gone and we found ourselves on 3rd and 4th class rock composed of thousands of brittle butter knife blades. It chipped off when you stepped on it. There were no cracks, there were no horns. Nothing to plug or sling. (not that we had any gear with us) This was, by far, the most challenging section, mostly for the brain, I wouldn't call the climbing quite 5th class...I would say it was very similar in character to Chickenshit Gully on Bashful, but it was much longer (it started at around 4,200-4,300') We just kept calm and continued upwards. The terrain did get easier to climb, but the exposure did not let up. Exiting the chossy butter knives section just before the ridge turns knife-edge, we climbed through a series of chimneys (the first started at about 61.27546, -148.89408): the stemming was fun, the extremely loose rock, was not! We had to gingerly take turns so as not to knock rock on each other. Finally the exposure started to level-off and we were leisurely scrambling to the true summit. It was warm and cozy, with blob of snow on what was mostly a comfy bed of turf. We hung out and drank our adult summit beverages, and pondered the the way down. The "West Ridge" (it's more NW if you ask me) looked to be pretty straight forward. It mostly was. (while on the ridge) The scrambling on this line was much easier than the line we took up, 3rd class at the worst, and mostly pleasant hiking. It starts to get challenging as you near the treeline though. There are a series of sneaky cliffs buried in the brush. When we followed the path of least resistance, we were suckered onto the tops of them. We needed to constantly side-hill and down climb around them. Once we were firmly below treeline, there were veins and memories of the trail but...there wasn't much. We grabbed lots of devils club and did a mudslide or two. I broke a beer (but didn't realize it, as it soaked all my camera gear) and a trekking pole and Abbey also sacrificed a beer. Still, we were grateful to not be descending what we had climbed up! Finally, we were free. As we rested at the creek, Abbey thought she saw another bear and instinctively yelled at it. It turned out to just be a sleepy Wolverine that quietly returned to the woods. We found a make-shift log bridge to cross the creek, and saw a mouse that looked like it was drowning, and then proceeded to run on the water, against the flow. Savior vole drowned for our souls. Times: it took us about 9 hours to get to the summit from the trailhead, and about 7 to get back to camp. We summit'd just before sunset, and got to our pre-pitched tent just before sunrise. Like a couple of vampires.