Driving the McCarthy Road in the Sweet Light

I love the McCarthy Road. The road drifts east 60 miles from Chitina to McCarthy, a tangled dance of Park, private, Native and State lands. It’s a bit on the raw side. If you make it in 2 hours, you had a very good day. Most days it takes about three.

I don’t think I’ve ever made it in 2 hours. I like to take my time. It helps me make the transition from laid-back McCarthy to the modern world.

It used to be called “the worst road in Alaska”. The first year I was here, every time my friend Jill drove the road, another part fell off her car. After 2 summers of losing pieces, she was done. Back then, travelers understood that the journey was just as important as the destination. A trip down the McCarthy Road was an adventure in itself.

Leaving Chitina, you pass through a one-way cut, remnants of an old railway tunnel. It’s a kind of gateway, your first clue that the McCarthy Road is a different kind of drive. Around the corner, you get your first glimpse of BIG water, the confluence of the Chitina and Copper Rivers. It’s the 10th largest river in the U. S. in volume and the only river in Alaska that’s longer is the Yukon.

The Copper is famous for its fishery. Copper River Red salmon is regarded as one of the finest salmons in the world. At the bridge is a State subsistence fishery, so people come from everywhere on Alaska’s road system to try their hand at dipnetting for some prime fillets and a few fish to can or smoke for the winter. Upstream you can look past a jumble of local fish wheels to the glowing snows of Mt. Drum.

Cross the Copper and there’s the sign. It’s a warning sign – Are you SURE you’re ready for the McCarthy Road? The sign is a lot more severe in the winter “Travel on this road is NOT recommended. Expect avalanches, road glaciers, extreme cold…” Be prepared for any eventuality. You’re a long way from nowhere.

Right after the sign, the road climbs the Kotsina Bluffs, a microcosm of future challenges. The washboard on the way up the hill will rattle your parts off. Skinny road, steep cliff, no guardrails, and mudslides sloughing off the hill to the right.

The Kotsina River has recently changed course, crossing its broad floodplain to erode the bottom of the bluff directly below you. Look for the half-buried RV near the Copper, stranded and then inundated when the Kotsina made its sudden detour. But maybe you’d better keep your eyes on the road, watching for potholes, falling rocks, or oncoming traffic around the next curve.

At the top of the bluff, you hit the chipseal. A few years ago, the DOT chipsealed most of the first 17 miles of the road, from the top of the bluffs to the Kuskulana. We warned them this wasn’t the best idea. Within a year it was a minefield of horrendous potholes and frost heaves so bad that entire sections of road had just fallen away. The “improvements” haven’t changed the character; you still have to pay attention.

After a few miles, pull over for a scenic view of the Chitina River. I get a warm fuzzy feeling when I look at that vast wilderness upstream and realize I’m going into the heart of it.

Travel past permafrost ponds filled with ducks, beaver and water lilies, catching glimpses of Mt. Blackburn through the trees. Wild roses form hedges along the side of the road.  At the end of the chipseal is the Kuskulana Bridge.

This was the 11^th highest bridge in the United States when I was built in 1910. It’s a long way down. How long? Grab a couple of rocks, the bigger the better. Walk to the middle of the bridge. Drop them. I like to drop one on each side. Listen for the sound of the impact. You’ll listen for a little longer than you thought it would take. Yeah, it’s a long way down.

Back in the 1980’s, the crossing was 2 planks. No guard rails. You needed a spotter to make sure your tires stayed on the boards. Not many people made it to McCarthy back then.

In the ‘90’s, you could occasionally bandit bungee jump off the Kuskulana Bridge. Word would go out through the grapevine – tomorrow – bungee jumping on the Kuskulana… It was free if you went naked, and a party even if you didn’t jump.

Back in those days, we all traveled slow on the McCarthy Road. It was a one-lane road then, gravel all the way, and the road crew didn’t make it out our way very often. Only one or 2 RVs a year made it all the way down back then, and we all thought they were crazy. Traffic was so light that when you saw another car you stopped to pass the time of day. I kind of miss those days.

There are rewards for going slower. Less dust, more wildlife. One of my favorite spots for viewing wildlife are the ponds and marshes just west of Chokosna. This is the best spot on the road for Trumpeter Swans.

Sometimes you get lucky and the parents bring their little cygnets close to the road for you to see and photograph. The reflections of the surrounding mountains on the water are sublime. And if you hit this patch, as I often do, at the sweet light time of the evening… You, too will fall in love with the McCarthy Road.

One spring I saw an eagle eating a duck here. Last week an eagle practically landed on my windshield on the Kotsina Bluffs. Raptors, waterfowl, songbirds, the McCarthy Road is a birdwatcher’s delight.

It’s no Denali, but wildlife sightings are frequent. Moose sightings are common. Twice I’ve seen a wolf, once a lynx. Some lucky souls have seen bison recently near Chitina, stragglers from a small herd of Plains Bison introduced to the Copper River in the 1930’s. There are bears, too.

One of my all-time favorite wildlife sightings on the road was a massive grizzly bear in the Crystalline Hills. I followed gargantuan piles of scat and footprints for about a mile before I saw him. He continued to nonchalantly plod down the road in front of me for another half mile before eventually turning into the brush. That dude OWNED the road!

The Gilahina Trestle marks the halfway point. This is the prettiest part of the road in the fall when the aspen turn.

Music is an important part of a McCarthy Road trip for me. Good tunes add to the already abundant joy. Some tunes are especially suited to the drive. I like to have Leftover Salmon’s “Dance on Your Head” in my I-Pod feed as I approach McCarthy after a long absence – “There’s no stopping this party, cuz this is a festival town”.

Crystal Lake, Long Lake, and you’re on the home stretch. Although it’s been a long drive, you still have to pay attention. The last 10 miles are the roughest.

The marsh near the DNR rest stop is my favorite place to see moose. Earlier this summer I saw a moose family reunion there, 8 moose in one place, from the oldest, grayest, Grandma moose I’ve ever seen to a newborn calf. You never know what’s around the next bend on the McCarthy Road.

When Porphyry and Sourdough Mountains dominate the view, I know I’m almost home.

Just a mudslide or two and a few hellacious potholes and I’ll be there – there being the Kennicott River. It’s still 3 miles on the ATV to my house, but that’s another story.

Thoreau said “The rougher the road, the finer the filter.” I like the McCarthy Road being rough. Keeps out the riff-raff. Makes people slow down and pay attention. I love the McCarthy Road, potholes and all. It’s always an epic journey to me.