Two Favorite Kenai Epics

Russian-Res-Devils Loop

Distance: 76 miles

Climbing: 7,000 feet

Season: June, or late September

The gist:

Start at Devils Creek Trail Head, take the Seward Highway 2 miles to Tern Lake Picnic Area, and head down the Old Seward Highway to where it meets up with Crescent Creek Road/Quartz Creek Road. For a 90 miler and an additional 1500’ or so of climbing, add an out-and-back on Crescent Lake Trail. Otherwise, follow Crescent Creek Road to Quartz Creek Road to the Sterling Highway. Cross the highway, heading left toward Cooper, and take the first jeep road immediately on the right. The jeep road climbs steeply. Stay left past the junction with a cell tower. After passing a high point with a great overlook, the road spits you back down on the highway briefly. Ride the shoulder carefully for about 100 feet until you spot the ATV trail heading into the woods on the right. The ATV trail is actually rather techy in places, even though it parallels the roadway. It will briefly spit you back out on the shoulder twice on the way to Cooper: first very briefly onto a gravel shoulder before heading back into the woods; and again to cross a driveway (take the driveway for 20 feet and the ATV trail will dive left off the driveway), before eventually joining a utility corridor. The corridor can get a little mucky, and trail will exit to the left to follow a wide and safe gravel shoulder the rest of the way to Cooper.

This ATV segment sounds more complicated than it actually is, and is a million times safer to ride than riding the shoulder of the highway! The short section of highway between Cooper Landing and Quartz Creek Road is not safe to ride!

Head through Cooper, cross the Kenai River (pedestrian bridge is located on downstream side of bridge), and cross the highway onto Snug Harbor Road. Take Snug up to Russian Lakes trailhead. After riding the 20-some miles of Russian Lakes trail, it may be worth taking a quick side trip toward the campground to refill on water. This is close to the mid-point of the ride. When you hit the trail head/parking lot, go left, up the campground road toward the campgrounds. Water is available at the RV dump station on your left, maybe ¾ of a mile.

From Russian, head down to the Sterling Highway, go left on the highway to the Resurrection Pass Trail Head.

Take Res Pass Trail to Devils Junction, and drop down Devils Creek Trail back to the TH and your car.

Hints:

This is a really smooth link up, with a lot of gravel to tie the trails together, with very limited pavement. The trails themselves are pretty easy: Russian is about as advanced as things get, but it’s a “descent” on this route. As noted, the ATV connection between Quartz Creek Road and Cooper Landing sounds complicated, but it’s literally an ATV trail next to the road, just keep following it. Also as noted, it has a few short techy sections to keep it interesting, and is a major asset to have as an alternative a connection to avoid a very dangerous segment of roadway.

Water is available at the Tern Lake Picnic Area (two people to use this pump), Quartz Creek Boat Launch (spigot), and the Russian River Campground (spigot).

The season on this ride is pretty much June onward, and is limited by snow in Res and Devils Pass early in the month, and vegetation on Russian later in the month. It’s pretty likely that this ride will include some snow drift cyclocross action through Devils Pass.

This loop could open up in September-Early October in cold and dry autumns.

I hit this loop for the first time on 2016 with Carey G, and again this year with Chuck D. Both years, the early to mid-June timeframe seemed to be the money spot for low veg and few snow crossings.

Both years, I opted for the simpler 76-mile option, and both years, the total ride time was around 7:45 at a reasonable pace, though could easily be driven down by quite a bit with more motivation.

In a head-to-head between this loop or the Resurrection-Devils-Johnson Loop (90 miles), I pick this one as my favorite.

Res-Devils-Johnson 2017

90 miles

8,000 Feet climbing

Time: Mid-June through July 4

I’d completed RDJ in various formats and rig choices in 2013, 14, and 15, but I just wasn’t super pleased with this route, and I took a break from the RDJ last season. The forecasts and fast-growing veg on Johnson last year didn’t inspire me to get after it.

This year, I had a choice for the weekend of June 24-25: do Arctic MTB’s Double-Down Race on a course designed by Ryan G, and well suited for someone who does well on climb-heavy and rooty courses (ya, that’s me), or head to the Kenai. It was a tough call, but the forecast was spectacular, and with July Fourth the following weekend – a holiday I try not to spend on the Peninsula – and a summer so far lacking in sunny weekends, it seemed like a Kenai Epic was a worthy pursuit.

Meredith was interested in riding the trail portion of the RDJ this year, and after mulling some different options, we came up with a new twist.

For starters, we’d ride the route clockwise, which is the opposite direction of how I’ve always ridden it. We’d also start the ride at the North Johnson Pass Trail Head, and this time, I’d employ a road bike for the long road segment.

The key element to this plan was just that: we’d be leaving my road bike at a colleague of Meredith, Doug’s, cabin, outside Hope. 

The bane of this loop is it’s 28 miles of road (24 paved) between North JP TH, and the North Resurrection Pass Trail Head. This long stretch of pavement has long steered the counter-clockwise routing of the ride, as at least that put the bulk of the hateful road riding pointed toward sea level.

I tried to ease the pain of this long road connection in previous renditions by riding a hard tail for the whole loop, or having a hard tail staged at the North JP TH for just the road portion.

I wasn’t sure that riding a road bike after 67 miles would really make me think better of this loop, but it was obvious almost immediately: the 24-miles between Doug’s and the car went way smoother and faster with drop bars and 28c tires. Lest I say it, I really enjoyed the road connection!

The other two benefits however, were less apparent beforehand, but definitely afterward. First, riding Johnson Pass north to south right off the bat gets the most technical part of the ride out of the way immediately, and second, climbing Devils and up to Res is downright pleasant compared to the opposite. Climbing the north side of Res is the most tedious, dull, and hateful section of trail on the Kenai…not that I have strong opinions on it or anything...

Early on in the day, we bumped into Kenai 250 riders Aaron, Dusty, Anson, and Kevin. I had a feeling we might see a few of the boys later on.

The clouds lifted as rode through swarms of hatching bugs on Johnson, but temps stayed reasonable. In the south Johnson TH I popped my helmet off my head, and a mass of dead midges fell from my head!

We stopped at the “rust pipe” at Tern Lake Day Use Area on the 7-mile road connection between south JP and Devils for a water refill. Up Devils we caught back up with Kevin, and could see Anson a little ways off as we neared the high point.

For time management (Meredith’s ride would end around 67 miles at Doug’s cabin, while mine would continue another 24 miles to the car) we decided this would be a good time to split off.

I bombed through the descent to Hope, and onward to the cabin. Having learned from before, I left the clock running through my turnaround for feed-management purposes. I dumped my pack, changed to road shoes, snapped in some dark lenses, and made sure to grab my car key.

I felt really good, and as I steered the road bike out onto the Hope Highway, my legs told me to give it all I had.

I had an absolute blast powering up Hope Highway and onward on the bike path to Johnson.

About a mile or two before I made it to the car, my legs started to fizzle, so I tapped a little deeper, casting aside the thought of a cool down, and spinning the Solace’s slick tires over loose stones right up the short gravel road to the car.

I rolled in an awesome and complete physical and mental wreck.

Great ride.

Ready for a Kenai July epic?

Here’s my favorite:

Hope 96

Tom's Visit

It took my former riding buddy and college teammate Tom 7 years to make it up to AK for a bike ride.

WANNA RIDE BIKES!?

OK, in fairness, Tom has been living and working in some of the country’s most scenic and spectacular National Parks though out those years.

Still, Tom and I went 6 whole years between our last ride on the east coast at Kingdom Trails a day or two before I left for the north, and our eventual re-union in SoCal last fall.

A few months later, Tom gave me a pretty awesome tour of Yellowstone National Park when I was visiting the area last January, and when I finally got him to commit to a visit to AK, I knew I had to pull out the stops for his visit.

Initially, I had thought a road trip to Whitehorse, followed by a short trip to the Kenai for some fishing, was in order. The road trip would provide a great view of the giant state, and I’ve yet to hear someone say something disparaging about the Yukon riding.

We did have some time limitations though, and despite this being an epic summer rarely wetted by rains, Tom of course picked the one week rain seemed sure to fall.

Multiple sources said the Whitehorse trails rode well in the rain, and I don’t doubt that, but driving 24 hours roundtrip to ride and camp in the rain just didn’t add up, especially considering how dry the trails where here.

I decided we would roll the dice and stay local, ride in the rain if we had to (we did), but at least have access to hot showers, an indoor hangout, and local knowledge of the weather patterns and trails (hey, we also did).

Aside from all this, I can’t help but feel boastful of the ScAk trails, and wanted Tom to see them, not some system a full day’s drive off.

Without question, that was the right call.

The first two days of Tom’s trip were gray and wet. We rode Hillside in the rain, and splashed through puddles in Kincaid during a couple hour lull in the precip the following day. The nice thing, is that as noted, the trails were so dry this year, they never got muddy, and dried instantly.

By day three, what had been a gloomy forecast began to change: the sun was coming out, and conditions were looking to be spectacular.

I wanted to take Tom up to the Valley and ride Keppler-Bradley and GPRA, but the storm system was lingering in the north, while gorgeous blue skies broke over Anchorage.

For the first time in days, Tom saw the Front Range, along with the snow-capped Tordrillos across the Inlet.

As it turned out, Anchorage was not secretly located near Fargo, as Tom had been beginning to suspect.

We rode Kincaid again, joined by Joe. As I expected, Tom loved the trails there, and didn't mind hitting them twice.

 

 

The next day Tom and I loaded up the Suby and headed south to base camp at Braun’s cabin and ride the Kenai.

The Chugach National Forest had just finished brushing out the Russian Lakes Trail the previous week, bringing this normally spring and fall only trail into the fold waaaaay early. I explained to Tom beforehand that this was a real bonus to have this ride on the table in mid-August, but I’m pretty sure he would have figured that out on his own as I freaked out about a dozen times on-trail.

We rode the Russian Loop, and as hoped, the well-drained trail was mud- and veg-free. When we passed where the trails runs along the river bank around mile 8, we could see hundreds of bright red sockeye swimming in the current below.

 

Heading over the outlet of Kenai Lake. Photo T.A.

Stopped for a snack on a beach on Kenai Lake.

Photo T.A.

Hanging out on the shore of Upper Russian Lake

Photo: T.A.

Upper Russian Lake Cabin

Blooming Fireweed in the avalanche meadows on the way out

  

The next day we headed toward Seward to do the Lost Lake Loop. Again, we had perfect blue bird skies and a gentle south wind to keep it cool.

As we finished up the 7-mile Primrose section of the Iditarod Trail, I asked Tom if he wanted to take the straightforward and easy route down the highway to re-connect with Lost Lake Trail, or go ride the Bear Lake section of Iditarod – explaining that the latter was hilly, loamy, not always flowy, and that a 2,000 foot climb still lay ahead.

Tom gave me a confused look.

I tried again: “Easy or hard?”

“Hard,” Tom said.

I was stoked. I know a lot of people pass up on this section, but that’s really their loss.

We stopped once on our way to Bear Lake to gobble up the abundant and fat blueberries that lined the trail, before making the surfy descent into Seward. The shore-side segment of the trail is super technical, and I knew Tom was probably going to want to session some of the features.

He agreed that this stretch is probably the closest thing in Alaska we have to the type of riding he and I did in college, at least, as far as the density of technical features.

As we neared the south end of the lake, we passed over the small inlet stream, and hung around a while to watch up and close as salmon battled each other for mates.

A little while later we were riding high into the alpine of the Lost Lake plateau.

Big shocker, but this did not disappoint. I think my favorite moment was when we reached the top of the plateau just before the lake comes into view. Tom took a ton of photos to the south toward Resurrection Bay.

I let him make a couple comments about how spectacular the view was, and how it couldn’t possibly get better, then we rolled 100 yards across the flat plateau until the lake and the bay were both in full view. I had to ask if he was sure about they view.

Post-ride fried halibut to-go, enjoyed down by the water was in order after descending Primrose.

 

Tom and I have very different pre- and post-ride routines. For example, pre-ride, Tom likes to wheelie, bunny hop, and skid around the parking lot, while I like to chill, stretch, and prep. Post-ride, Tom likes to fall off his bike and hope the gods deliver him a giant pizza, while I like to wheelie, bunny hop, and skid around the parking lot...OK, well, maybe I did some of the latter just to get back at him. I was really glad to take this shot before setting off on LLL though.

Lots of blueberries

Lots.

Tom took a few attempts, but finally rode the bridge...no salmon were harmed.

Photo: T.A.

Favorite shot of the trip. Photo: T.A.

 

Friday dawned with high gray clouds, but the forecast only hinted at a slight chance of rain.

I had really hoped to do a Devils-Cooper shuttle, but could not arrange a shuttle, and doing the loop wasn’t too high on the list after five days of consecutive riding. The backup plan was to ride up Devils and through Res to the Hope overlook, maybe descend to East Creek if we had the legs, and then turn around.

The weather had other plans. Hypothermia rain started to fall right as we got to Devils Pass, and knowing the Hope overlook view would be pretty unspectacular, we decided to go hang out in the shelter of the Devils Pass Cabin for a while.

As it was, the rain really wasn’t falling too hard, and it didn’t take us long to descend out of the wind.

After 3 days of AK blue bird, Tom said he appreciated seeing a slight dose of reality in terms of what the weather could dish out.

The trail was great even wet though, Devils is already well drained to begin with, and given the dryness this year, didn’t even form any puddles.

 

No pics from a rainy day but Tom made this cool slow-mo video.

 

We headed to fish camp that evening to spend Saturday working the UR fishing event. The tournament went smoother than it ever has, and I appreciated Tom’s willingness to chip in and drive a shuttle. Tom got real familiar with my old commute to work (I mean, he’s fairly qualified at driving vans after all), all in return for a little fresh halibut and salmon. Good deal huh?

That evening, just before I was about to call it a night, walking through the dark between one of the out buildings and the lodge, I looked up to see the northern lights blazing across the sky. I ran in and got Tom up, and we hung out on the dock for an hour while they put on a hell of a show.

 

Double rainbows over camp. Photo: T.A.

No good shots of the northern lights, but Tom snapped this cool one of the boats waiting for their clients Saturday morning. Photo: T.A.

 

What a way to end a great trip.

Sweet Weekend for October

This weekend kicked butt...if it was the end of October.
Alas, it's the end of November.

Normally, Kenai rides start with some kind of explosion in my brain muscle on Monday morning. I then work really hard to not bother Adam until Wednesday, if I can make it.
It should say a lot then, that when I called Adam for a long-overdue catch up call on Friday evening, it occurred to us somewhat simultaneously, that we could give the Russian Loop a shot, as ridiculous as that is for the time of year, and shrugged our shoulders and went for it.
The idea was only slightly less misguided than we presumed. The first half went by crazy fast. Low elevation trails were frozen solid, super tacky, with no ice. We buzzed up Snug Harbor Rd in a light rain, but not long into the meat of the climb the rain turned to snow, and by the time we reached the upper trail head we were in something of a winter wonderland.
The snow made it impossible to tell what we were riding on, which ranged from bare ground to a mixture of ice types. Studs or fat tires would have been OK, but regular mountain bike treads raised the sketch factor and seriously cut into forward progress. If we could have said that it was only going to last for "x" miles until we returned to hero tack, we might have toughed it out, but not knowing if we had 2,5, or 10 more miles, was enough to remind us of the initial plan: if the upper trail sucks, turn around.
The descent back down Snug sucked immensely, but once we got the downhill out of the way we warmed back up and enjoyed the rest of the ride.

Not right.

Sorry bikes.

The trip south provided enough intel for the brain muscle to land on boarding in Turnagain on Sunday.

Turnagain, Saturday evening.

Nathan and Cody were down, and we headed south.
I was anticipating a 30-45 minute walk through the alders of beer can mountain, probably half of it getting pissed on. We'd ski two laps in the upper trees in descent snow, then head back down into the vertically rising rain line of doom.

As we rose above Portage, the clouds parted, and we found Turnagain Pass enjoying the morning light of a sucker hole; and quite lonely (one car at Tin Can, 2 at Sunburst).
With vis in place, we headed to the latter, where two skiers headed back to Taylor Creek Pass and another solo joined us to the ridgeline with his pup for a run.
It was about a 30-minute hike to skins-on, and the snow went from inches to well over a foot of fresh ontop of the bullet-proof rain crust base rather quickly above some certain elevation. The snow itself was high quality, with the lower layer dense and the top layer cold and dry. Read: loud when you carved hard, billowed big for everything else. Stability was a hairline under bomber. A little wind and consolidation on top of that ice layer could lead to more reactivity.
We stuck around for three runs in conditions none of us expected, with a group of 5 arriving late in the day as we departed.
A fourth run was surely on the clock, but not necessarily in the legs.

Busting rhymes on the ridge.

I love this picture.

Ya. It felt so good. Just gonna pretend it's October.