In my first adventure in the Great Land, Alaska, in the early 80’s, my three sons and I lived in a cabin deep in the woods, and we were called the ‘mountain men’ by our pastor and several others in our church. We would need a ride to church every week, so someone from Healy would come out and pick us up every Sunday and midweek. The four of us would take our showers at the church when we were there, so we probably smelled like mountain men, as well.
Many times in the wilderness, things can get real crazy. There are so many stories to tell that they all jumble in my brain. Sometimes when people get me talking about my old home I just dominate the conversation with memories of those good times.
In a previous’ life’, my sons, my ex-wife and I staked a homestead in the interior or Alaska, 16 miles north of the entrance to Denali National Park, 235 miles north of Anchorage. We chose this location, (let’s say I chose this location) because it was very close to the Parks Highway which carved a path between Anchorage and Fairbanks, Alaska. I was living in Anchorage at the time and I discovered by looking at the homestead brochure that the open area was very close to an old railroad stop called Ferry. It’s actually on the map. The open development was called Windy Creek Homestead Area and the boundaries began about 2 miles above Ferry on huge land bench looking over the Nenana River Valley.
My dream after moving to Alaska in 1981 was to find an isolated spot in the middle of nowhere where I could hunt and fish and live life like a pioneer. I want to build my own cabin and to be self-sufficient with solar panels and a garden. I wanted chickens and a generator if need be for electricity. I read several books about homesteading, and studied log house building. With lots of sketching and calculations, I figured exactly how many trees I needed to build my cabin long before I staked my claim for property. At the time, I had no idea how we would do all this cool stuff because our family had very few resources, and I had just hurt my back and was temporarily disabled.
One day we decided to take a trip north to the homestead area located some 244 miles from our home in the little town of Houston, Alaska, 30 miles north of Wasilla. We needed to explore before we decided to stake this site.
It was a very beautiful summer day as summers go in Alaska. We carefully followed our map. (In those days who knew what a GPS was? I didn’t. ) Anyway, we arrived at Milepost 260 on the Parks highway, and pulled into a turnout off the road. We notice several mailboxes nearby with ‘Milepost 260’ posted on the side of the boxes. You could also see the name of the owners of the boxes.
Looking for more information with no one around for miles, we spotted a dirt road that went down a hill toward a set of railroad tracks in the distance. We started down the hill and drove till we got to the edge of a river. Later we would learn that it wasn’t Windy Creek but the Nenana River. When we arrived at the river we could see the Railroad Bridge with a small cat-walk on the left side of the bridge. We decided to check it out.
The railroad track was built up from the rest of the topography, so we had to climb a pretty steep but short dirt ramp to the railroad tracks, and there was a short trail to the bridge. At first we hesitated to cross on the catwalk because the Alaska Railroad had posted several no trespassing and danger signs at the entrance. We came across a couple of people, and they told us that it was permissible to cross. So we did.
When we completed the trek across the bridge I couldn’t believe my eyes. I told my wife at the time, that this was it. I can see that picture in my mind yet today. I was in love. Later I was to discover that Windy Creek area was up another steep hill on the step above Ferry. In Ferry we met at older man, DeVere, who owned a couple of small log cabins, without power and electricity right near the trail that lead up the hill to the staking area. Later he would become one of my dear friends.
Eventually we would climb the hill, investigate and stake the property a few months later. By the way, it was just as beautiful up the hill as it was at the river, and we had the opportunity to stake the best forty acres in Windy Creek area. That’s my opinion, of course.
Yes, I built a cabin with solar panels and a garden, and we enjoyed many more great adventures on these forty acres. I hope to tell you more soon.
So now we come to the origin of ‘mountain men’. It’s like this: We lived up that hill above Ferry, and my sons and I were always talking about ‘going up the hill’ to our cabin. Oh well, not much of a story, but I have some really great ones to come.
David Erickson
