Exploring the Okmok Crater and a stop in Nikolski, Alaska

By midday on June 7th, we had spent 24 hours on the remote island of Umnak in Alaska’s Aleutian chain. We had arrived the day before, set up camp in a corral (here, the people stay in the corral and the cows roam wild), and had already explored a bit around Fort Glenn and the nearby beach. Now, with the threat of weather rolling in, we decided to pack up camp, hoping to circumnavigate the island by plane.

By early afternoon, we were in the air, flying east towards the north side of the island. We departed from one of the old Air Force runways at Fort Glenn and took in aerial views of the corral we had called home for the last 24 hours, as well as the deep scars left on the land from its time as an Air Force base.

As we flew over the east end of the island, we traded blue skies for low ceilings. The kids, who had initially been excited about the cows, albeit a bit scared, were now tired of seeing them. “More cows” was a statement muttered often throughout the flight. We crossed a braided river and coastal flatlands that seemed on the verge of turning lush and green.

The focal point of the east end of Umnak Island is undoubtedly the large 6-mile Okmok Crater. Okmok is not only one of the largest volcanoes in the Aleutians, it’s also one of the most active in North America, with its most recent eruption in 2008. As we turned inland toward the crater, the landscape became more dramatic. Rolling hills gave way to hollow riverbeds, then to abrupt cliffs with large boulders cradling a river that drained from the volcanic crater in the distance.

We followed the river up to the caldera and entered what seemed like another world. Our attention was immediately drawn to a bright teal lake with a deeply fluted cinder cone in the background. As we passed the lake, I was on the edge of my seat, taking in the volcanic landscape dotted with cinder cones, hidden lakes, and distant snow-capped peaks, not wanting to miss a thing.

We flew around the perimeter of the large crater, peeking into cinder cones and marveling at the volcanic moonscape.

The clouds had stayed far below the caldera, giving us blue skies as we explored the massive crater. We came back around to the teal lake that fed the river spilling out of the caldera, and flew low-level out of the crater, over waterfalls, boulders, and more rugged landscape. We headed back to the coast and steered south down to the clouds and the cows.

The coastline seemed to vary with every turn, from rolling tundra to sandy beaches to rocky outcroppings.

Near the middle of the island, where a small neck of land connects two larger land masses, the kids were thrilled to spot a new breed of wildlife. Woodsen quickly identified the group of small white dots running across the tundra as herds of wild caribou known to live on the island.

The weather was getting fuzzier, but we were grateful the ceilings were holding long enough for us to make it into Nikolski. Woodsen had been in touch with a gentleman named Josh who had once worked as a cattle rancher at Fort Glenn and now lived with his family in Nikolski. Josh had provided a lot of helpful information while we were planning the trip and had also welcomed us to stop in for a visit once we arrived. However, the last time we were in touch, we learned he’d been offered the opportunity to fly to Adak in an amphibious airplane with a friend and would be gone when we planned to arrive. We definitely didn’t blame him for taking advantage of such a unique opportunity, but knowing he would be gone, we debated whether we should still stop in Nikolski.

As we flew over Nikolski, we decided that since we were here, we might as well land and check it out.

We landed to the surprise of a small group gathered at the airport. At first I thought a mail plane might be due, but we quickly realized they had come to greet us. After circling this wildly remote 70-mile island and feeling just how far we were from everything, their welcome felt especially warm. Josh’s wife Lily was there with two of her kids and a few friends; her brother arrived with his dog; and another friend, Scott, showed up as well. Scott immediately invited us over for coffee, while Lily welcomed us with gifts of smoked salmon and offered a tour of the village greenhouse and chicken coop she helped run.

Woodsen headed off to Scott’s house for Coffee with Yukla, and the girls and I piled into Lily’s big dooley pickup to do a little exploring. That’s when Lily showed us probably the last thing I expected to find at the furthest point of our trip down the Aleutian chain: a heated swimming pool. The girls were giddy! All the beaches, shells, and cows did not send them over the top with excitement like this did. Atlee was convinced she wanted to stay in Nikolski, and definitely wanted to go for a swim. Lily’s daughter was Atlee’s age, and by the time we had finished touring the dome-style greenhouse and another similar building that served as a chicken coop and home to two orphaned calves, the two girls were off exploring the island together. With permission, of course 🙂

After seeing the pool, we checked out the small community center and store, then stopped by Lily’s house, where she showed me the geese she raised. I mentioned I’d never eaten goose eggs before, and suddenly I found myself carrying a bag of goose eggs back to Scott’s house. The adults enjoyed coffee, and Scott and his wife, Agraphina, stuffed the kids’ pockets with snacks. They even gifted us a whole Costco-sized bag of cashew clusters, which we enjoyed for the rest of the trip.

At this point, we had to make some decisions. Should we stay? Or should we take off and start our journey back up the chain? Atlee and Melozi voted strongly to stay, but Woodsen and all the locals knew how quickly the clouds could roll in, settle over the island, and stay for weeks. The forecast wasn’t promising, so although we were disappointed to leave this sweet community, we decided it was best to head toward the airplane.

We said goodbye to our new friends and started on the short walk to the Airplane.

The only problem was that we couldn’t find Atlee.

Lily had told us where they probably were, and in such a small place we were confident we would see her on the way to the plane. But by the time we got close to the airplane, we were a bit confused, and maybe I was a tiny bit worried I had somehow lost my daughter in the Aleutians. Another thought crossed my mind, maybe she was hiding and silently rebelling at our decision to leave. We waited a bit longer, then in the distance we saw her and two other friends making their way up from the beach to the airplane.

Agraphina came to see us off and snapped a photo of us right before we loaded up to take off.

Although our trip wasn’t even halfway done, we already knew our stop in Nikolski would be a highlight of the trip. And to think we almost passed it by!

Back in the air, a wave of new emotions washed over me—awe, deep gratitude for the hospitality and the beautiful people we’d met in such wild places, and a quiet amazement that we had actually made it all the way to the end of Umnak. Now we were heading home. There were still new places to explore and more of the journey to enjoy, yet I found myself embracing the simple fact that we were on our way back.