July 17, 2022Dan Mann’s tent site on a plateau north of Lituya Bay that has risen 1,500 feet from the sea in the last 40,000 years.
I have admired Dan for years, especially when he is off trading Alaska’s winter for New Zealand’s summer or when I have sat in on a class he teaches. I’m glad to finally be out in the field with him. Especially here, in his place, one of the most dynamic areas of an ever-changing state. But this place of tall young mountains, giant earthquakes, green rainforests and large bears has kept him coming back for nearly half a century.
Though they are hell to get to, the terraces are pleasant enough once you reach them. They are spongy benches so wet that big trees don’t grow on them. They feel like something out of Lord of the Rings, with mist in the air, gurgling creeks, small friendly pines and mountain hemlocks twisted by winter storms. You wouldn’t be surprised to bump into a bunch of elves picnicking in a glade.
Finding a wooden kayak paddle in terrace peat would answer that human-migration question cleanly. But there are no quick answers up here.