Denali Historic Resource Study

Completion of the Alaska Railroad keyed a boom in Interior tourism during the 1920s. Joined at Fairbanks by riverboat and auto-road links to the White Pass railroad out of Skagway and the Yukon, and the Copper River railroad out of Cordova, the new Alaska Railroad attracted significant numbers of tourists away from the previously favored coastal towns and cruise ships. Interior hotels and their rustic roadhouse cousins, restaurants, and gift shops featuring Native arts and crafts all benefitted from this shift.

In tune with Alaska's frontier character many accommodations provided only the basics of shelter, warmth, and meals. Tasty wild-meat stews, baked bread, and garden vegetables, served home style, catered to the healthy and hungry traveler. One guidebook warned the finicky: "No allowance is made for delicate or jaded appetites." [64]

The Depression hit Alaska tourism hard. But in the late Thirties the well heeled headed north for fear of Europe's war threats. Then World War II, with Japanese invasion of the Aleutian Islands and the priorities of war mobilization, halted all tourism to the territory for the next several years.

Over much of Alaska the post-World War II revival of tourism followed new routes constructed and perfected during the war. A major development was the opening of direct commercial air travel from the Outside. The Army-built Alaska-Canada (Alcan) Highway allowed direct auto access to Fairbanks from the States. The Glenn Highway connected Anchorage with Fairbanks via the prewar Richardson Highway. Scores of secondary and emergency military airfields—turned over to the territory after the war—opened up remote areas to casual visitors.

But in the yet essentially roadless Denali region, the railroad's prewar-style travel and touring patterns would persist for another three decades. Given the already existing railroad, the military had skipped the Denali region when it built new elements of Alaska's wartime infrastructure. Thus the park continued to be isolated from the independent auto touring that had become commonplace in road-accessible parts of Alaska. [65]

In the early years scientific interest in McKinley Park centered on the large mammals. The park's special status as a game refuge offered scientists the unique opportunity to study the life histories of unhunted animal populations over a significantly large range of the subarctic. [66] Cooperation between the NPS and the U.S. Biological Survey in Alaska began when the latter's assistant biologist, Olaus J. Murie, conducted reconnaissance surveys in and around the park in the years 1920-22. Though his work occurred in the context of a long-term study of the caribou, his early notes and reports yielded meticulous descriptions of flora and fauna of all kinds, couched in the life-zone ecology of the time. Aside from Charles Sheldon's work in 1906-08, which concentrated on the white sheep, Murie's were the first scientific reports relating to the park's biology.

The Biological Survey's chief, Dr. E.W. Nelson, had commissioned Murie to travel all through Alaska on the caribou study. He was particularly concerned with the relationship between imported domestic reindeer—first brought to Alaska in 1892 to supplement Native food supplies—and the larger, sturdier wild caribou. When migrating caribou passed close to domestic herds of reindeer, some of the latter drifted off with the wild animals. Being of the same species, the animals interbred, to the detriment of the caribou. Nelson conceived the idea of improving the reindeer stock by controlled interbreeding with choice caribou bulls. This would not only improve the meat yield of the domestic animals but would also help protect the caribou by transmitting their sturdiness and disease immunities to the reindeer herds, thus making casual encounters less detrimental to caribou. [67]

As a result of Doctor Nelson's correspondence with Director Mather on this subject, Olaus Murie was given permission to capture some of the large bulls at the park for breeding with the reindeer. During the period July 4 to October 23, 1922, Olaus and, from early September, his younger brother Adolph ("Ade") Murie, worked to this end with Karsten's cooperation and a crew of hired hands from Fairbanks.

They made camp on the upper Savage River near its main forks, and built a caribou corral about a mile and a half up the Savage west fork. Murie had studied Indian drive and corral structures in the upper Yukon region and this one followed their design. It had two long wings about 600 yards long that funneled caribou along a well trod trail that came over the pass from Sanctuary River. The wings converged on a gate that opened into a corral about 60 yards in diameter. A small pen inside was used to hobble and dehorn bulls so they could be worked without lethal danger to the wranglers. Captured bulls were taken to the Biological Survey station at Fairbanks to consummate the breeding experiment. [68]

Olaus Murie continued to have intermittent contact with McKinley Park into the early Sixties, with significant influence on the park's biological and wilderness management. But the younger brother, "Ade" Murie, remained a real fixture in the park into the Seventies. His reports on McKinley mammals, birds, and ecological studies number in the scores, with many of them published in popular form. These, plus his periodic evaluation of the wolf-sheep status during the Thirties and Forties, and his many letters and comments on the park's evolving development exerted a force both spiritual and scientific:

* in establishing an early version of ecosystem-management at the park.

*in averting a big-game management bias, which would have included mandatory wolf-control quotas;

*in moderating post-World War II development concepts that would have subjected wilderness and wildlife to undue intrusion; and

*in justifying recent northern boundary expansions to preserve extended wildlife habitat.

In sum, these contributions probably made Ade Murie the single most influential person in shaping the geography and the wildlife-wilderness policies of the modern park.

Ade Murie's alliance with the fate of this park did not happen in a vacuum. In 1926, George M. Wright and Joseph S. Dixon visited McKinley Park to study its "outstanding assemblage of animal life." George Wright was an independent biologist who, at first with his own money, hired or contracted colleagues to form the Service's first wildlife division. He believed that only science-based management could save the National Parks from the devastations of contextual and in-park exploitation and development. Joe Dixon was one of these colleagues, a professor of mammalogy at the University of California. As a first step, they envisioned a series of faunal surveys for each of the great National Parks. They shared the premise that protection of wildlife and their habitats,

far from being the magic touch which healed all wounds, was unconsciously just the first step on a long road winding through years of endeavor toward a goal too far to reach, yet always shining ahead as a magnificent ideal. This objective is to restore and perpetuate the fauna in its pristine state by combating the harmful effects of human influence. . . .The vital significance of wild life to the whole national-park idea emphasizes the necessity for prompt action. [69]

Their accounting for the dynamics and relations of flora, fauna, and geography gave their methodology the cast of modern ecology. [70]

Recognizing the superlative natural laboratory and unique wildlife gathering offered by McKinley Park, Wright and Dixon launched their investigations there, with advice and assistance from the NPS, the Biological Survey, the University of California Museum of Vertebrate Zoology, and the United States National Museum. Their work constituted the first comprehensive, ecologically based survey of the park. The many specific research tasks they proposed continue to enlarge the park's massive scientific bibliography.

Their evaluation of McKinley Park's unique significance in the early years can be read today as a pronouncement on the values of Alaska's expanded park, refuge, and Biosphere Reserve systems developed over the years since their pioneer work:

[Mount McKinley], because of its remote location, favorable climatic conditions, and large size, is the only park today that contains an adequate and abundant breeding stock both of wild game and of large carnivorous animals. Too, the natural association and interrelation of certain typical and vanishing examples of North American mammals, such as grizzly bear, wolverine, timber wolf, caribou, and Alaska mountain sheep, can probably be maintained by reason of the adequate room and the suitable forage conditions. [71]

As these precedent-setting events paced the park's early history, Harry Karstens' superintendency fell on hard times. Despite his continuing accomplishments in the realm of park protection and pioneer development, his volatile personal relations with other officials, park neighbors, the park concessioner, and park employees created an atmosphere of siege. Many episodes were innocent of all but quick temper, even if beyond condoning. Many others were the result of calculated conspiracy and baiting by persons whose interests lay in discrediting the superintendent. But in aggregate, the result was turmoil and publically registered displeasure with the incumbent.

In an attempt to clear the air Director Mather and Assistant Director Cammerer commissioned investigations of Karstens in 1924 and 1925. Cammerer's informant, A.F. Stowe, was a personal acquaintance of the assistant director and a local man who knew the histories of many of Karstens' accusers. At home in the local environment, he quietly observed the individuals and dynamics of the various disputes. In a letter to Cammerer in early 1925 he cited chapter and verse of the origins and motivations of the disputes and parties thereto. He had found attempts to crowd Karstens' legitimate jurisdiction over the park, along with all manner of personal spite, revenge, and envy. He concluded his letter with these words: "I believe today the same as I have always believed that in the present incumbent you fortunately selected the best qualified man living in Alaska for the Superintendency of the Park." [72]

Mather, through the Secretary of the Interior, requested that U.S. Post Office investigators detail every aspect of the charges against Karstens, and solicit opinions as to his competence and stability from such distinguished persons as James Steese, Governor Scott Bone, and newly appointed Governor George Parks. The investigators' report of June 29, 1925, represented 2-1/2 months' work carried out in Seattle, Juneau, Anchorage, Fairbanks, and the park and vicinity. With attached exhibits, the 13-page report, whose substance was an indictment, provides a saddening glimpse into the subsurface labyrinth of Karstens' personal conflicts as superintendent.

The complainants charged Karstens with an arrogant and violent temperament, lack of executive ability, and petty forms of annoyance directed toward any person who differed from him or showed him up. Governors Bone and Parks felt that though Karstens may have been too direct in some of his methods and personal responses, he had probably been unfairly incited by smaller men, whose aims regarding the park crossed Karstens ' duty to protect it. He should, they believed, be transferred to another park where his genuine attributes could be properly channeled and supervised. Colonel Steese came to essentially the same conclusions, but dwelt at length on Karstens' suspicions that everyone was out to get him. Steese further stated that he should be removed immediately so that his presence would not hinder the road project. Other correspondents, as well as the investigators, said about the same: that despite Karstens' many excellent qualities as a pioneer he lacked the poise and balance for public administration. [73]

In the upshot, Mather, Albright, and even old friend Cammerer were forced regretfully but realistically to share that opinion. [74]

During the remaining 3 years of his superintendency Karstens struggled mightily to complete the park's first stage of development and operations. His energies were eroded by many who, aware of the investigation, sensed his vulnerability and capitalized upon his coming demise. Many letters from job applicants found their way to Washington. Karstens' growing belief that his mentors in Washington had lost faith in him did little to relieve his anxiety.

The worst part of the wind-down of Karstens' NPS career still lay ahead when Director Mather visited the park in August 1926. Karstens set up an 8-day saddle-and-pack-horse trip through the park, visiting many of the sites, including the Toklat cabin, that Charles Sheldon had described to the director in Washington. Together Karstens and Mather explored the headwaters of Stony and Moose creeks, then proceeded on through the passes to Copper Mountain and near views of Mount McKinley. As always in the outdoors world that he loved Karstens proved a gracious host, an impressive man in his element. Grant Pearson wrote that Karstens' guidance through the park gave the Director—the first Washington Office official to visit it—a lasting impression of its wilderness and wildlife values. [75]

By 1928 the park road extended 40 miles into the park. Appropriations were up to $22,000. The much enhanced concession operation hosted close to 1,000 visitors with facilities and activities that combined comfort, entertainment, and challenge in balances attuned to visitor tastes. The park headquarters and supporting administrative facilities made possible reasonable park operations. A small but barely adequate ranger staff patrolled and protected the park from all but the most remote incursions. Much work remained to be done. But much had already been done. [76] This accomplishment had been wrought largely by the fallible but dedicated man who entered the park alone on a borrowed horse in 1921.

Alaska Road Commission road crew.

Savage River cabin of Alaska Road Commission, early 1930s. Herbert Heller Collection, UAF.

Alaska Road Commission fill work along the main park road. Herbert Heller Collection, UAF.

Arthur Gardner and a Fordson grader, along the park road, during the 1930s. Herbert Heller Collection, UAF.

Alaska Road Commission Camp at the East Fork of the Toklat River. Herbert Heller Collection, UAF.

Karsten's resignation in October 1928 combined frustration over his continuing battles with ill-disposed people, disgust with the complex administrative demands of a maturing park, and his conviction that he could no longer command the respect and affection of his superiors in Washington. Even his friend, advisor, and faithful supporter, Charles Sheldon, had died. Grant Pearson, perhaps to soften these grim motivations, invoked another cause: the park had become too tame for a pioneer like Karstens. So he went to Fairbanks and resumed his transportation business. [77]

Director Mather, felled by a stroke, resigned in January 1929. His successor, Horace Albright, visited McKinley Park in 1931. He was greeted by Harry Liek, Albright's choice to replace the departed Karstens. Albright suffered an attack of appendicitis while in the park and was flown to Fairbanks for hospitalization. While he was there, Karstens and his family repeatedly visited Albright, showing great kindness, bringing flowers, and loaning books about McKinley from their personal library. Karstens said he wanted to go back to work at the park, even as a subordinate ranger. But Albright talked him out of it, for Karstens would not be happy or useful in such a position. Albright tried without success to change Karstens' view that Director Mather had been against him ever since the 1926 visit. In a memorandum from his hospital bed to the Washington Office, Albright recounted these things. He expressed his enduring admiration for the man in his pioneer role, sympathy for his troubles in later years. But he was firm in his conviction that Karstens could not fit back into the Service. Perhaps if he were just starting out; but not now, not with all those unresolved resentments. He concluded:

I hope the Service will always have Karstens' good will, and I told him we wanted him to feel that he had a great many friends in the Service, and that we wished him well. He promised to help us, and Supt. Liek especially, as opportunity afforded him a chance. [78]