Ice-Breaking near the Gulkana Glacier
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Ice-Breaking near the Gulkana Glacier |
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Here is our story, to add to the "How I Almost Destroyed My Vanagon Last Weekend" volume:
We drove into the Alaska Range and up the pipeline service road that approaches the Gulkana Glacier. It's about 60 miles south of Delta Junction on the Richardson Highway, just north of Summit Lake, behind the Richardson Monument. I recommend it to anyone with decent ground clearance on their vehicle, as the road is dry and passable even as it degrades into a dozer swath through the cobbles of the wide stream bed. It is an easy hike to the glacier and beyond, including a swinging bridge across College Creek and a two-man cable tram across the headwaters of the Gulkana River. Plenty of geology to appreciate in the hills above the valley.
But there is still some snow in patches along the road at this time of year,
and as we approached the first drift, there was a Suburban towing 4 snow machines
backing out (I think they call them 'snowmobiles' in the lower 48). "This is
the end of the road, unless you have a snow machine! Heh heh!", they called
as they went by. I accepted their challenge, and locked the rear differential
of my '87 Syncro GL. We floated over the first drift without a problem. The
snow was solid beneath a few inches of slush in the 60 degree heat. The Suburban
disappeared toward the highway, and we went another hundred yards or so when
WHOOMP! 
The passenger side went through the snow and ice and into the creek. She was
listing pretty severly, at least 18 inches lower on that side. The water was
less than a foot deep, fortunately. So the van was hemmed in back and front
by the remaining ice over the creek. I had strayed off the path by about two
feet, and it looked pretty bad.
We herded the dogs out the driver's door, and took inventory. My SO agreed
that we were going to camp near here anyway, so there was no rush to get it
out (I think I'll keep her). But it was not going to be very comfortable sleeping
at that angle. We had two ice axes and an entrenching tool at our disposal,
and set to work on the ice. The blister over the creek was easy to stomp through,
so we made some space on either end of the van. We chopped a trench around and
between the wheels on the high side, and rolled it off the remaining pedestals
to get some more weight on that side. Backing out didn't work, as the rear end
tended to slip further into the creek, or send rooster tails of silty water
all over my passengers turned spectators. So we continued to make the hole bigger,
until I could get the entire van into the creek. A few more swings of the axes
created a ramp of sorts up the ice bank. But I think it was the desire to quit
messing around and get on the trail that gave me the confidence to back it up
as far as I could, cram it into low gear, and punch it. The front end slipped
briefly on the ice and threatened to skip sideways back into the creek, but
the rear wheels grabbed at just the right time, and pushed the front end up
onto the bank. In an instant the mantra MAINTAIN MOMENTUM rang in my head, and
foot to the floor, the rear jumped out as well.
Further motivated, we reloaded the van and plowed through a few more drifts
to find the campsite we wanted. The only damage I found was an extension of
the crack through the front bumper endcap, but I figure that is what they are
for. My new front end body work (due to the unmanned encounter with a tree a
while back) is fine, including the grille with the extra large VW medallion.
The rest of the weekend was less suspenseful, but still a beautiful escape from
Faribanks for three days. The dogs flushed a pair of moose and a group of five
or six caribou as we hiked up to the Hoodoos the next day, but were outrun in
no time. We saw grizzly tracks on the way down, but not the owner. I'll post
the pictures of the event and extraction someday. When we drove by the chasm
on the way out on Monday, it reminded me of a wolf-moose winter battlefield:
a center area of dirty compacted snow and ice, with a perimeter of churned-up
slush and footprints. I wonder how the Suburban would have done in the same
situation...
Chris Wyatt
'87 Syncro GL
Fairbanks, Alaska