Climbing the Crown Point Mine Trail

Climbing the Crown Point Mine Trail

The Crown Point Mine trail is off of the Seward Highway, just after Moose Pass, in the southern part of mainland Alaska, on the left heading towards the beautiful town of Seward. I actually found out about it by randomly coming across a really great page for offroading, specifically for dual sport motorcycles, dirtbikes, quads and UTV’s. This is the website. It was on the way to Seward, which I had decided to visit, so I decided to give it a try. I had no idea how crazy of a trail it was, or how rewarding and spectacular the view would be at the top. It was easily one of the most beautiful places I had ever been, and almost certainly the best “why not” adventure I had experience on my bike yet.

I departed fish camp in Kasilof late, around 5 pm. It was a 2 hour ride to Seward and I had to fish at 7AM the next day, but Rome didnt get built in a day, and I didn’t get to where I was by taking the safe way. So after throwing some gas in the black pig and turning up the Taylor Swift in my headphones, I headed out on the road. A Friday night had the roads not exactly empty, but after making it through the town of Soldotna, the traffic petered off and I had the gorgeous afternoon sun all to myself. An hour and a half of windy roads between snow capped mountains, glacial rivers and cliff faces, I pulled onto the Seward Highway, also known as route 9. Another 30 minutes of riding saw me into Seward, where the temperature dropped and the population grew. A small, beautiful, bustling town on coast full of campers, tourists, vacationers and fisherman, it was a sight to take in. Surrounded by enormous, gorgeous mountains all around and the sea buffeting the rocks in the inlet, I could see why many considered this place a must see. There is a small gravel road that leads you out of the busier part of town and takes you along the water, farther out to the true “end of the road”. Here lays a small campground and few dozen vacation homes, with a half empty beach and a seemingly never-ending view of mountains and water.

 I took in the sounds of kids laughing, gulls crying and waves crashing for a little while, then u-turned it back out of town, down the gravel past waterfalls and fishing boats and Subaru's from Washington, onto the Seward highway. I stopped at a strange gas station/grocery store for a Snickers bar and gas and headed for Moose Pass. I decided there was enough time still to try the mine road, I knew I’d be riding in the dark either way at this point (it was already almost 8 oclock in the evening.) It was getting dark nowadays around 10 pm, so a little time in the dark couldn’t hurt right?

I found the turn off to the trail, initially bumping you over some rail road tracks and past half a dozen ramshackle houses. A small kid gave me a hollow stare as i buzzed by, then went back to his Tonka’s. A split in the road with an old wooden sign pointed me left. The trail was obvious, with hard pack and rock, but certainly not big enough for a jeep or truck, and I feel that even a side by side would have real trouble, especially higher up. The thick undergrowth on both sides of the trail was a wall of green, and more often then not, bumped or scratched on my jacket and hand guards as I went. It started out relatively flat, with a few stream crossings and even some wooden planks thrown over some of the more muddy places. After a couple turns and dips, the trail started to climb, and climb it did. Once the uphill started, it continued for the next half hour. Eventually I passed out of the deep dark forest, and the switchbacks turned to rocks and gravel. One side of the trail was a steep, foreboding drop off to the woods far below and all the rest was a giant grassy field, with patches of boulders from the peaks still far above my head. After a while, the view began to distract me from the bike- it was beyond beautiful. The inlet from Seward shone in the distance like a sparkling diamond, and from it trailed the Kasilof River. And everywhere, both sides of the river, stretching to the clouds, were mountains. True, jaw dropping mountains, with the sun falling through the passes and streaming across the meadow that guided me up the trail. Not a sole in sight, no signs of humanity or society, except this tiny, distinct trail that wound its way up as far as I could see. Sometimes a rock would kick my back tire out, and for the smallest second you would imagine bumping off the trail, to an almost certain death thousands of feet to flat ground.

The soothing rumble of the bike beneath me guided me up farther. After what seemed hours, the trail came to an abrupt stop in front of a monstrous cavern. The imprints in the gravel split, but both ended a 100 feet from the bike, where it just became part of the long slope down the rocky wall. I could see a goat path leading on from there, but there was absolutely no chance a bike could make it. I parked the bike, took off my helmet and just stared. I was around 7/8ths of the way to the summit, the rest only obtainable by my own two feet. The cavern before me must have been the result of the mining. Deep down in the depths, no sun reached and there was a patch of snow covering the wall. A small river flowed out of the mountain, presumably from the very mines that had been the result of so much work. Behind me were some twisted remnants of wood and steel with a large cable leading out of it and following the trail back down. All that showed there was anyone else that ever even be here before.

A crumble of rocks to my left brought me out of my daze, and I turned to see a Marmot scrambling across the steep rock face. I couldn’t help but smile at this point, and as I turned back to my bike, my smile grew. The gorgeous, heart stopping view framed my bike, the very machine that had carried me almost 10,000 miles across the country. The sun peeked through the mountains as it set, blowing up the sky with the brightest shades of orange, red and pink. I was living the life I had always told myself to find. I was in quite possibly the most magical place I had ever been. This is what I had set out on this trip to find.

I sighed. I knew I had to leave this amazing place. Work in less then 10 hours, and another 2 hours on the road. Good thing I loved the open road. I saddled up, awakened the old mule and headed back down the trail. The trail was just as steep as I remembered coming up, and I kept it in first, tapping on my brakes so as not to burn them out in the last place I’d ever want to loose the ability to stop. After what seemed an age, I entered shrubbery, trees, and eventually flat ground (never felt so thankful for such a thing). I turned onto the deserted two lane highway, leaving a whispering trail of dust and memories. I tilted my head up to the sky, taking in the mountain I had just climbed with the bike through the failing light. I nodded my goodbye inside my helmet, turned on my fog lights, and set the tires for camp. A good day in my book.