niebruggestudio.com

Continued……

We floated the Copper River on day 3 with the goal to explore the historic Copper River and Northwest Railroad rail bed along the Tasnuna River delta.  Each stop revealed another part of the history of this region.  Braided into many channels, a hiking trail would not necessarily follow the original route of the rail bed in this area.  We were blessed with another day of sunshine and mild weather.  I found an abundance of wildflowers growing in this region, and took many photos to use as reference for future paintings.

Down river near Heney Glacier Lake area, we hacked, clawed, climbed, and thrashed our way through dense underbrush seeking evidence of the rail bed.  And there was much to be found, if you had the heart to bushwhack in heat and mosquitoes.  At this spot we found a collapsed bridge with rails still suspended across a fast moving creek, an amazing treasure.  Rusty spikes still intact and the date 1918 stamped on a rail.  We explored several sites along the east shore of the Copper River in this area with much success.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

The third day of a float trip surveying the Copper River and Northwest Railroad bed along the east shore of the Copper River from Chitina to Cordova, Alaska, during the summer of 1998.  We rose knowing our time would be spent pursuing one of the essential tasks on a long float trip; replenishing drinking water.  Down river we secured the rafts along a steep bank with evidence of a fresh water stream, and thrashed our way through the underbrush toward the sound of a waterfall.  As we hiked away from the river the temperature grew warmer and mosquitoes swarmed out of nowhere.  They clung to every inch of clothing and skin that was not protected, biting fiercely.  We sprayed repellent liberally and donned head nets for protection.

Filtering drinking water is a slow, tedious task.  Everyone took turns manually pumping the stream water through the filter filling each water bottle, then the five gallon jug.  Drinking water was carefully conserved and protected, we used silty river water for everything else.  Once this task was complete, we boarded the rafts to continue the exploration of the historic rail bed, our next stop the Tasnuna River delta, a mile wide area full of sand bars.  We hoped to explore the remains of the rail bed and consider possible bridge construction for a future Rail Trail.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

The continuation of a float trip on the Copper River, Alaska, following the Copper River and Northwest Railway rail bed during the summer of 1998.  After exploring the Tiekel River tunnel, we arrived at the delta of Cleave Creek to make camp as the sun was setting.  Alpen glow bathed the mountains across the Copper River, our campsite was already in shadows.  Sunset is around 11:30PM in Alaska during mid summer, we built a bonfire and went about our chores.  The landscape was stunning we lingered around the campfire and watched the light fade into darkness on the opposite peaks.  It was a very productive, exhausting day.

In the dark we found our tents, fluffed up the sleeping bags and secured the bug screens for a much needed rest this night.  Memories of glaciers, mountains, railways, tunnels, waterfalls, filled my head as I slipped into deep dreams and didn’t wake until the sunlight warmed the sides of the tent the next morning.  So many beautiful landscapes to paint, so much to see, so much to do, and another day on the river beacons…..

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

We scoured the riverbanks along the east shore of the Copper River, searching for the historic Copper River and Northwestern Railway tunnel near the Tiekel river delta, on our float trip from Chitina to Cordova, Alaska, in 1998.  The shoreline all looked similar.  This massive river is fed by many glaciers, summer heat causes glacier melt, as waters rise debris and silt are scattered changing channels and sometimes blocking known access points.  We already experienced this on the first night when we couldn’t get to shore at the Uranatina River, instead ended up camping on a large sandbar on the delta.  We were disappointed to be unable to explore that region.  This time we didn’t want to miss our goal of the tunnel.  In swift current when the exact destination is unknown it is almost impossible to set up and paddle a raft to the desired spot.  Missing a landing point is pretty much a loss, the Copper River is too fast to travel up stream by raft, only down.  It can be tricky but we were fortunate to have some skilled paddlers on board.  Good fortune and skill guided all three boats to a perfect place to tie up at the north tunnel entrance.

We spent a good deal of time exploring the immediate area and held a group discussion at the south tunnel entrance where a huge boulder blocked the rail bed.  Obstacles such as large boulders, collapsed tunnels, and the absence of bridge crossings at the river deltas made the goal of a Rail Trail seem insurmountable.  Nevertheless, all possibilities were discussed in great detail.  It was a fascinating and interesting experience.

Down the rail bed a few hundred yards we found the remains of a small railway shed, with its identifiable red paint still visible.  The above photo shows my husband, Bob, sporting a shotgun loaded with slugs ready to defend against bears.  Everyone carried pepper spray, bug spray, water bottles, and snacks when exploring the shore.  Deep into an uninhabited wilderness it was best to be prepared.  Sometimes in very dense foliage shouts of “Hey bear, Hey bear, bear” from members of our group warned of our approach.  Surprising a bear sleeping in thick bushes was not on our agenda.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

Our second morning was uneventful as we floated along the east shore of the Copper River, visually scouting for remnants of the Copper River and Northwest Railway on our trip from Chitina to Cordova, Alaska, the summer of 1998.  Consulting topographic maps of the area we kept track of every landmark, and used them to guide our path on this gorgeous sunny day.

Our first stop was scheduled for the Tiekel River Railway tunnel just before the Tiekel River delta at about mile 28.5 from Chitina.  We were growing accustomed to the gentle rocking motion of the raft, and savored the miles of uninterrupted scenery as we drifted deeper and deeper into the uninhabited wilderness.  Since Haley Creek we had not seen another soul, nor any trace of man other than the few scattered remnants from the historic railway.  I tried to imagine what it was like when trains traveled the rails in this wilderness, it was beyond comprehension.  Hardly a word was spoken, all of us seemed transfixed by the beauty surrounding our tiny fleet of small rafts.

More tomorrow.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued……

The photo above is the view from our tent on the sandbar at the confluence of the Uranatina River and the Copper River, Alaska, on the first night of our float trip from Chitina to Cordova in 1998.  A beautiful end to a rainy, cloudy day.

The next morning we woke to this scene, lifting clouds exposed snow covered peaks and blue sky along the route south on the Copper River.  What a beautiful day!  We had a delicious hot breakfast, loaded gear back into dry bags securing them in the rafts and launched into the sunshine.

Floating quietly the only sounds were the flow of fast moving water as it swirled and eddied around rocks and trees, and glacier silt scraping along the bottom of the rubber raft.  Three Trumpeter swan resting in a slough along the edge of the river took flight as we approached, their beautiful trumpeting sounds pierced the calm, then faded into the distance.  Leaning back, resting against the soft inflated sides we allowed the current to carry us forward watching nature pass by, feeling the warmth of the sun.  Heaven on earth, moments in time to be savored and remembered.

More tomorrow.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

After lunch at Haley Creek on the Copper River, Alaska, float trip in 1998, we embarked with care and paddled hard to the opposite shore to bypass a powerful whirlpool below the creek delta.  I’ve experienced this hydraulic in a jet boat, it is an adrenalin packed adventure where the boat goes through a tunnel of whirling water, in the center of the whirlpool all you can see is water.  An experience to definitely avoid in a heavily loaded raft.  Continuing our float in the misty rain we observed Bald Eagles soaring overhead, spotted bears in the mountainside tundra, and immersed ourselves in the spectacular wilderness landscape.  Access to shore at the mouth of the Uranatina River, our destination for the first night camp was blocked by debris and shallow braided channels.  Disappointed that we were unable to explore this region, we pulled ashore a large sand bar on the river delta for the night.  Kitchen consisted of several folding tables, propane stove, coolers, and overhead tarps as rain shelter.  Everyone sought out smooth sandy areas to pitch small tents a distance away from the kitchen and food as a precaution from bears, we were careful to follow the principles of “leave no trace” for the campsite.

The scenery on the first day was nothing less than spectacular, glaciers adorned the mountain tops, waterfalls everywhere, driftwood, rocky outcroppings, and vegetation made the landscape an artists paradise.  Finding time to sketch or draw on a trip of this kind was impossible, so I used my camera to record subject matter to use for future paintings.  At each camp we unloaded the rafts and hauled the gear to a kitchen location where everyone took turns setting up, cooking, and cleaning up after the meal.  We each individually set up our own tents.  Heavy lifting, constant activity, and the impact of working outdoors all day wore me out, I slept very sound the first night on the spectacular Copper River.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

Our first stop on the Copper River float trip that began at Chitina, Alaska, was for lunch and exploration of the popular clear water tributary Haley Creek.  In 1998 vehicles were able to access the old Copper River and Northwestern Railway rail bed to this point, and parts of the historic railway trestle still remained.  It was a popular fishing campsite location and plans were underway to connect the rail bed across the creek with a vehicle bridge.  The float from Chitina was exciting paddling through the narrow, deep, fast water of Wood Canyon just above our take out at Haley Creek.

During nineteen years living in the Copper River Basin, in Copper Center Alaska, we often camped on the wide sandy beach at Haley Creek and fished for salmon.  It is one of my favorite campsites.  Sometime around 2003 landslides closed vehicle access to this area and as far as I know there are no plans to reopen the trail.  It is a very big loss for recreational camping.  Today fishermen can still access the area by power boat and it is very popular during the Dip Net season.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Searching through my archives; journals, photos, files, and maps, seeking subject matter for aa new painting I found photos from a very interesting float trip in 1998 on the Copper River, Alaska, and thought I’d share this experience with you on my blog.  The goal was worthy, a bit heady, and offered a chance to explore a significant place in history of the region.  I had the pleasure of being invited as guest artist on this trip that began one rainy summer day near the bridge over the Copper River at Chitina.  Three rafts and thirteen people assembled enough gear for a week, everything was packed into rubber dry bags, or plastic coolers, and lashed securely in place on each inflated boat.  The method for propelling these floating crafts were paddles, we took turns paddling, two on each side.  The first project was to inflate each raft with a pump, we brought manual foot pumps as part of our survival equipment along with patch kits, duct tape and glue.

Pictured is my husband, Bob, packing his small personal dry bag next to our loaded raft.  With up to six people in each boat there wasn’t much room to move around, seating was either on top of the gear or on the inflated sides.  Everyone was required to wear a white water life vest, and no one planned to fall into this very cold, swift, glacier fed river that was muddy with silt at this time of the year.

This trip had a purpose, the participants had professional knowledge of this river, the history, hydrology, geology, and represented the Bureau of Land Management, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, the city of Cordova, Ahtna, Copper Basin Search and Rescue, Trails and Recreation Access in Alaska (TRAAK), and were tasked with looking at and discussing the proposed Rails to Trails project on the former Copper River and Northwestern Railroad corridor along the east bank of the Copper River.  The idea to utilize the historic rail bed as a hiking trail was an unrealized dream of many people.  We were going to evaluate the pros and cons of such a ventrue.  We launched our heavily laden flotilla by mid morning and were on our way down a beautiful wild river full of spawning salmon in the midst of some of the most spectacular scenery in Alaska.  I was elated!

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

The Hatcher Pass State Park is about 25 miles from the studio and provides a excellent assortment of groomed trails for every level of ability.  I love exploring the area during the winter, especially around the historic buildings from the gold mining days.  This day the light was very flat and not good for photography, but I’ll be back again soon for some serious research for winter subject matter.  With the right light I find the patterns of light and shadow in this alpine retreat to be stunning.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

After a recent snowfall I took my camera along during a ski on the lake and photographed some gorgeous clouds.  I love these sunny days without wind just after a new snow, everything looks so pristine and clean.  I had the lake almost to myself, an awesome experience.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continued…..

Our three days at the Don Sheldon Mountain House on the Ruth Glacier in Denali National Park, Alaska, were fabulous!  Not only did we have spectacular weather, clear skies and plenty of sunshine, but it was calm and silent.  It was magical.  In the distance we would hear the occasional crack of ice, or thud of a small avalanche, but other than that it was quiet.  Once an airplane flew over way up high, and one day a sightseeing flight landed on the glacier far below.  People got out for a few minutes walked around and took pictures, then they were on gone.  They really had no idea what it was like to stay out here, or that we were even there.  It was an awesome time.

We were like kids, free to do anything we wanted, whenever we wanted, limited only by our skills and strength.  We skied a bit, but found the little plastic sleds to be the best fun of all.  One day we sledded all afternoon at break neck speed down the hill, coasting for what seemed like miles along the slick, smooth surface of the glacier.  Over and over we trudged to the top and sped back down until we fell exhausted in a heap, laughing and tired from the silliness.  Gone were our worries of isolation, we reveled in it instead.  We actually found ourselves hoping for a weather front to come in so that we could stay longer, but instead we were blessed with perfect weather, and before we knew it our time at the hut was over.  As soon as we loaded everything back into the airplane for our return to Talkeetna, I began to miss the Don Sheldon amphitheater with it’s little house on the rocky ridge, and vowed to return someday.

This happened in 1997, and unfortunately we haven’t been back.  It is so important to make the very most of every experience we have in life, because we are given no guarantees that it will last.  Live in the moment, laugh a lot, and be thankful.  If you have never had the opportunity to know Alaska, you have missed something very special and a part of life.  Alaska, the last frontier and the subject of my work for more than three decades, the land that I love.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

continued…..

As we settled into the cozy hut situated at the top of a ridge overlooking the Ruth Glacier in Denali National Park, Alaska, our first chore was to find the outhouse.  There was a little brown colored shed perched on the edge of a steep, narrow ridge located about 100 yards from the cabin.  A skinny trail carved into the ice with a safety rope stretched alongside ran from the building to the shed.  We grabbed the rope and used a hand over hand method to gingerly inch our way toward the brown shack.  The trail was bordered by a steep drop on one side and a deep, deep crevice on the other.  This surely couldn’t be the path to the outhouse, I thought.  But it was.  I made up my mind that I’d use a bucket or coffee can in the night, because there was no way I was going down that treacherous route in the dark!  I had to admit, the view from the privy was world class.  It amazed me at how fast we became comfortable with the unfamiliar terrain of a glacier.  Once we’d hiked the trail to the potty a few times it didn’t seem scary at all, and soon we quit using the safety rope.

The scenery was so stunningly beautiful it took your breath away, with ever changing shadows and light, the landscape looked different every hour of the day.  I could sit forever staring at the patterns and shapes of rocks and snow.  The Mountain House itself was an octagon shaped building with windows all around, and a wood burning stove in the center.  The walls were ringed by a long bench that served as seats during the day and a platform for sleeping bags at night.  The building wasn’t very big, I’d guess it was about 12 or 14 feet in diameter, with the stove filling the center it was impossible to get cold unless you let the wood burn down.  Along one section of the wall there were shelves holding a few pans and utensils and a flat surface for our propane cook stove.  A web of ropes were stretched from one side of the ceiling to the other, where something was always hung to dry.  It was simple, ingenious, and rough, and contained everything necessary to survive.  By dark we were settled, cozy, fed, dry, warm, and snuggled into our sleeping bags for the night.  We watched the alpen glow disappear on the distant peaks and darkness slowly filled the amphitheater, once the singular glow from our propane lamp was extinguished, the sky filled with dancing, sparkling stars.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

continued…..

To reach the mountain house we loaded our gear onto the two small plastic sleds that were provided, donned our skis and started our trek uphill.  It was slow work for two slightly out of shape middle aged explorers.  At first we piled everything on each sled as high as we could, but the flimsy unstable plastic would easily tip the contents at every bump in the trail.  My best recollection is that it took each of us five trips apiece before all our provisions were delivered to the cabin.  We grew warm from exertion and the sun reflecting off the brilliant white snow and were soon soaked with sweat.

The silence was amazing, all we could hear was our labored breathing and the swish, swish, swish of skis.  The trail was marked with orange posts and at first I wondered why, we could see the cabin at the top of the ridge, but soon realized the entire area was riddled with deep crevice’s some hidden by weakened snow bridges.  It was dangerous, and not a place for the feint of heart.  Yes, it was dangerous, and awesome, and stunning all at once.  I couldn’t believe my good fortune for being able to stay at such an incredible place, full of history, beauty, a truly pristine wilderness.  I was excited and at the same time a little afraid, we were there without any form of communication for three days, there was no turning back or way to change our minds.  I realized it was time to check my emotions, settle into camp and go about the business of learning about how to live on a glacier.

More tomorrow,

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Lately I’ve been reviewing my research files seeking subject matter for new paintings and I ran across these photos of a fabulous trip in 1997 to Don Sheldon’s Mountain House on the Ruth Glacier, Denali National Park, Alaska.  I thought I’d share the experience on my blog.  During this time one of the places I wanted to research was Mt. McKinley, we found we could reserve a few days at the historic Mountain House, a place that was built on a rocky outcrop on the Ruth Glacier and used as a camp for climbers many years ago.  At the time it was being managed as a bed and breakfast, without any beds or breakfast.  We had the use of the cabin but had to bring all our own food, bedding, firewood, and extra supplies in case we were weathered in, and had to extend our stay.

We chartered Doug Geeting Aviation at the Talkeetna airport and arrived on a sunny spring day with a giant pile of provisions including nordic skis.  The 45 minute flight was spectacular through the mile wide Great Gorge lined by 5,000 foot high granite cliffs, the wheel/ski equipped plane enabled us to take off from Talkeetna’s  gravel air strip with wheels and land on the glacier with skis.  Mountain house is perched on a ridge above the glacier at 5,700 feet, with a stunning view of the Ruth and Don Sheldon amphitheaters.  Our gear formed an unwieldy pile on the snow, and the pilot instructed us to use two empty waiting sleds to haul everything up the slope to the house.  As we watched the bright red plane disappear we slowly realized that we were all alone in this vast icy wilderness, totally alone for miles and miles, our pile of supplies seemed to shrink in comparison.

More, tomorrow.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

It is an artists paradise in Wasilla right now, the hoar frost is exquisite! Every time I look outside the windows of my studio I see another landscape that takes my breath away. The fog bank that has caused this is predicted to dissipate, soon another weather phenomena will dominate. Will we have more snow or wind, or will it warm up and rain, or get clear and very cold? The shortest day of the year (equinox) is soon, who knows what will happen next. For an artist, it is all wonderful!

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska landscape painter

With four days of early morning fog and cooling temperatures a beautiful layer of hoar frost has formed on trees. The afternoon sunshine illuminates the ice coated trees glowing, shimmering, silhouetted against the dark shadows of winter they stand out each branch ablaze by back light. Crisp walks in subzero temperatures, footsteps crunching through crusty snow surrounded by silence and frost lit trees, this artist finds inspiration and magic in the landscape. Orange/yellow sky painted by the setting sun enhances the frigid landscape coloring the snow. Alaska winter at its best!

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Continuing the amazing Alaska winter weather cycle this year,  the hurricane force winds of a few weeks ago yielded a positive result; our lake ice was polished into a perfect place to ice skate or play ice hockey!  This beautiful evening produced ice fishermen, skaters, a man walking a dog, and the inevitable car spinning circles as it attempted a fast start on the slippery surface.  And, I was mesmerized by the incredible colors of the sunset reflected on the ice as I watched from my studio.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska Artist

If you don’t like the weather in Alaska one day, just wait a day.  After bearing through weeks of bitter cold, hurricane force winds, then rain, Girdwood was a perfect place to be last Sunday during the Alyeska Ski Club training races.  Perfect temperatures, excellent snow conditions and happy faces basked in the gorgeous glory of an amazing landscape on a picture perfect day.  I found many beautiful scenes to use as reference material in future paintings.  Days like this are the reason we live and love it here!

Gail Niebrugge, Alaska artist

Another of my quick photos taken while on a subject matter research trip to Girdwood, AK.  This time I was alone on a beautiful crosscountry ski trail, after cruising through an open meadow the tracks led me through a narrow dense forest where I was surrounded by the fascinating shapes of snow laden evergreen trees.  Although it was a bit cold, -8 degrees Fahrenheit, and my glasses were all fogged up and frosted over I retrieved my handy camera from inside the warmth of my ski  jacket and quickly clicked off a few shots.  I think I found some nice trees to include in my next winter painting.  It was so quiet and beautiful out there, if it weren’t for the cold I would have stayed all day.

Gail Niebrugge, Alaskan Artist