Photos by pwoelber

Eagle River Overlook is an easily-climbed peak with a beautiful view - especailly if the weather's right and you can make out the stunning peaks, like Polar Bear and Yukla, that tower over the valley floor. This was a cool fall day, during a hike with my dad and little brother, and we spent a lot of time looking at the map and the mountains before heading back down.

Continuing a nearly-annual tradition, my brothers and I walked down to the Kincaid beach in Alaska, right as the sun was beginning to set. Tromping across the frozen lagoon toward the beach, the wind picked up and threw flurries of backlit snow across the windswept snowbanks.

Following the large body of positive responses from my last Kincaid post, I've decided to post another shot from the same night. This photo is of me, silouhetted by the clouds and steam off of the ocean right before sundown. The steam rising off of the open water in this area produces a strikingly eerie and surreal effect, particualarly as the sun goes down and the swirling fog becomes backlit orange and red.

From many vantage points, Mt. Elliot looks less like a distinct peak than it does the long bulky tail of far-better-known Wolverine Peak. This photo, taken at the low point on the ridge between the two peaks, is one of the few I've seen that makes Elliot look like a standalone mountain. This was an early fall hike, right after the first snowfall hit the mountains. The snow melted off during the day, which was sunny and clear, and from the top of Elliot we got great views of the more remote parts of Chugach State Park. Left to right in the photo are: Dylan Watts, Isaac Shepherd, and Nick Shepherd

While Kinkaid is *not* a climbing area per se, it is a great place to tromp around on an afternoon and experiment with gear. This photo - which is 100% un-edited - was one of my first experiments with digital photography, and still one of my all-time favorites. My brother Brett and I walked down to the beach in December just in time to catch the sunset, and then headed back along the bluffs as the sun cast the entire winter sky in shades of bright orange and pink.

Not much of a "technical" photo, but you've gotta have a little fun. My buddy Dylan and I built this guy during the descent from North Suicide Peak.

Hurdygurdy mountain, in the Chugach Mountains of Alaska, is a sprawling convergence of three or four somewhat distinct peaks, as can be seen in this photo. We'd planned on climbing it via the closest ridge in the photo, but this route looked pretty sketchy once we got onto it, and hopes of climbing up the steep scree field to its left were quickly abandoned. This photo shows my brother Brett on one of the small summits of Eagle River Overlook, a gently-sloped adjacent peak that we decided to climb as a sort of consolation prize. The true summit of Hurdygurdy (the leftmost of the three most prominent peaks) can be climbed easily from the back up a wide gulley, somewhat between Hurdygurdy and Eagle Peak, but I haven't tried it and it'll have to wait till next summer.

My brother took this photo of me on Mt. Williwaw when we finally climbed out of the SW gulley and onto the ridge. We were both hugely relieved, being poorly prepared for the steep snow and loose rock in the gulley, and were both really rattled. I think this photo gets some of that immense relief.

Though Penguin Peak is not very large by Alaskan standards, it makes a good half-day trip, especially if the weather is right and you can enjoy the view. Since the peak rises right up out of Turnagain Arm, it seems to catch a heavier load of winter snow than other mountains in the area, and deep snow will remain in the bowl and on the summit well into the summer. Park at the Bird Creek trailhead and just keep to the right; you'll climb up a grassy avalanche runoff and then up into Penguin's broad, tree-filled northwest gully. The gully flattens out toward the top as you reach the bowl, and I'd probably head onto the right-hand ridge, which'll give you a great view of the Arm for the rest of the hike. From here on out, the climb is pretty straightforward. However, there IS a lot of snow up there, and it's sometimes corniced. Penguin is known for its avalanches, so exercise a little caution. But as long as you're careful, Penguin has a lot to offer. It's the best place I've found for summer sledding, which is an absolute thrill. Cafeteria trays work great on the hard-packed snow, and if you do it right you can probably sled a thousand feet down the bowl. Just don't get going too fast or out of control, and don't hesitate to bail out if you need to.

There are four ridges that converge on South Suicide Peak, and the one jutting out toward Turnagain Arm, between Rainbow and the Falls Creek trailhead, is probably the least-traveled. Though the photo makes it appear a little intense, it's not a difficult route by any means (light scrambling if you want to stay right on the ridge), though it drops precipitously toward aptly-named Windy Corner. Climbing down toward the Seward highway can be a bit unnerving, as you are looking down right onto the tops of the cars far below you. Some routefinding skills and willingness to backtrack are recommended; though I'd say it's well within the limts of most determined Chugach scramblers. As a side note, this ridge, probably due to the infrequency of human use, is crawling with sheep. While climbing down, my buddy Dylan Watts (pictured) and I accidentally spooked a sheep off of a cliff and it broke its neck.

Eagle Peak is a challenging day hike, involving a 10-mile appraoch over often-trailless terrain, and reaching its 6909' summit involves scrambling several thousand feet up a steep gully. To reach the peak, park at the South Fork Eagle River trailhead and walk to Eagle Lake. The standard approach is up the drainage toward Flute Glacier. Keep up against side of Eagle Peak as you near the glacier, climb over the boulder field, and then up the scree slope toward the base of the fairly-obvious southwest gully. The scree leading up to it, and the first thirty feet or so, of the gully are probably the toughest parts of the climb, but the height and remotness of the peak would make me hesitant to continue if the weather were poor or climbers were already fatigued. It's a long way to the summit. I found that the rock was very good, but that the scree slopes were generally unstable. The gully fans out toward the top, and some guide books suggest climbing the "ridge" to the summit. However, this seems like an unsafe, and really pointless, risk. Look for the small, prominent gulley that empties into the far left side of the main gully. Climb this to a narrow saddle and then make your way to the right a few dozen feet to the summit. The view is incredible; I would allot a good chunk of time to check out the surrounding peaks and the glaciers far below. But don't spend too much time up there, because after all, it's a very long trip back to the South Fork parking lot.

Mt. Williwaw rises to an elevation of 5445 feet, making it the highest mountain in the immediate Chugach Range, and proably the most daunting-looking peak from Anchorage. The standard route is to climb the wide southwest gully, which is usually filled with snow until late in the summer. Though this route is passed off as "nontechnical," I would DEFINITELY recommend an ice axe and boots capable of kicking steps, since one spill will send you bouncing down the bottom. The rock quality is also exceptionally poor, some of the worst I've found in the Chugach - not a range known for good rock to begin with. Once out of the gully, it's an easy climb to the top. To avoid descending via the gully, my climbing partners and I hiked almost all the way back down to the top of the gully, and then sidehilled around the back of the mountain, toward Koktoya Peak. I would advise avoiding this route, which is more or less a continuous series of scree slopes and small cliffs. This photo is taken from the top of Mt. Eliot, toward Williwaw's West and North faces (out of shade and in shade, respectively). The gully is out of view, to the right.