It’s been four days since our hike up Alaska’s Harp Mountain, and my quads and calfs are STILL burning. Eliana and I have only climbed two mountain peaks in the past six months (Mt. Qua Qua, Grenada and Guadalupe Peak, Texas). Growing accustomed to the flat terrain of Florida has caused us to fall out of shape.

It was the summer solstice in Alaska, the longest day of the year. Sunrise occurs around 4 a.m. and sunset around 12 a.m. Between those night hours, it never really gets dark, it’s more like twilight. No wonder they call it the Land of the Midnight Sun.

Prior to embarking on Harp Mt., we had originally planned on climbing the popular Flat Top Mountain in Anchorage. On the summer solstice, there’s a big camp-out and celebration up there. It sounded fun, but we were looking for some solitude, and Harp Mountain was our “road less traveled” and bound to be a better choice. We chose wisely. The entire mountain was ours alone.

Starting up the trail, the air was crisp and cool, and the sharp incline made it challenging from the get-go. We were flanked on both sides by patches of incredible tundra wildflowers. There were chocolate lilies, coastal paintbrush, Jacob’s ladder, and dozens of others. As you can see, Eliana is keen on flower photos...

Along with the plants, there was a small assortment of birds at the lower elevations. Mostly white-crowned sparrows, which were steadily calling, but we were also treated to a new “lifer” bird for us, the golden-crowned sparrow, whose call is a sad-pitched “Oh dear me”. There were a few violet-green swallows catching insects in flight, and an orange-crowned warbler came to inspect all the commotion when I broke out my Audubon bird call to simulate alarm clicks and chirps. I’ve loved using iBird software in the field, one of my favorite iPhone apps. It’s a field guide to North American birds on the iPhone, complete with not only images, range maps, and species descriptions, but also sound recordings of all our bird species! Sound playbacks work great for attracting songbirds.

The journey uphill continued, we left sparrow country, and finally emerged above the tree line. Once above the trees, the terrain became quite rocky and the sparse plant life really hugged the ground. Mid-way up, we were treated to amazing views of Eagle River Valley and Hanging Valley.

Further up, the slopes became steeper still, and really tested our stamina. Walking along the ridge, the clouds began to set in and the winds picked up as we were no longer in the shelter of the valley. We put on our jackets, took in the breathtaking views, and shrugged off the cold.

At the higher elevations, there wasn’t much bird diversity but American pipits were abundant. They must have been feeling amorous because we kept seeing them making their courtship flights. The males ascend about 200’ high in the air, then soar downward singing their mating song, legs straight out and tail held upright.

Even in the summer, there is snow on these peaks!

Feeling a bit weary after climbing about 2000’, it was time for a little lunch break and a rest. Nibbling on our sandwiches, we watched a pika (a small chinchilla-like animal related to rabbits) scurrying amongst the rocks. I wish they were closer to photograph because they were carrying bunches of wildflowers in their mouths and it would have been a perfect picture. We did get one shot later on, but from far away so it looks pretty pixelated zoomed in.

With fuel in our bellies, we made the final ascent to the peak. Eliana’s bad knee was acting up as usual, and the last 600’ was grueling. We scrambled up the rocky terrain, the trail faded in sections, and misty clouds blew around us in the rough winds. We were definitely cold at this point, the wind thrashed our faces, and it began to snow! Following the GPS compass, we struggled to the top, and finally .... we MADE it! There was a geocache up there which added to the glory of conquering Harp Mountain! Check out these shots from the summit.

On the return home, we began to follow the ridge line back to Verena’s house, but without a trail and an endless sea of difficult-to-walk-on loose glacial rock, we opted to just follow our original footsteps back down the way we came. It was slow-going with Eliana’s sore knee, and my own legs and joints were making me feel like an old man. The weather became increasingly cold and nasty on the way down, so we put away the camera and concentrated on the return to Eagle River. It was a tough walk and we’ve both been sore the last four days, but this coming weekend, we’ll find another mountain to climb and do it all over again! Click here to see the rest of the pictures.