McCarthy, east of Anchorage and 60 miles from the nearest village, was a small town to begin with. When the nearby Kennecott copper mines closed in 1938, the rail access to it was torn out and the town dwindled—but did not disappear. "For half a century, McCarthy was a ghost town, home to just a few holdouts, joined over time by various prospectors, dreamers, back-to-the-landers, chiselers, escape artists, hippies, speculators, preachers, and outlaws. An old and makeshift way of life persisted against the quiet undertow of the past, that ebbing toward the nature that was here before." Cold Mountain Path is McCarthy's story, focusing on the era (1938–1983) before it became more accessible (there was no road to it until recent decades, and the rivers had to be cross in terrifying ways), in the middle of a national park, and well known (in part due to, unfortunately, the mail day murders). "We all have ghost towns, impermanent places we dream of returning to. Here was Alaska's."
Tom Kizzia walks us through McCarthy's story to the best of his ability, supplementing the scant written records with interviews of the locals. "In the geography of Alaskan romance, McCarthy had a reputation as a hermit kingdom, contrary and self-reliant, where settles tougher than the rest of us were salvaging, in postapocalyptic fashion, the rusted relics of a profligate past." Due to its history (as a copper mine), location (in the beautiful Wrangell mountains), and inaccessibility, it created a unique environment. "The combination may have no equal on the American continent. Here in a single place three intertwined eras in Alaska's history lay almost literally one atop the other—the pristine wilderness, the intrepid exploitation of mineral wealth, and bush Alaska in its authentic late-twentieth century form." Effectively, McCarthy was "a rare window into a way of life that was supposed to have disappeared long ago." "The challenge of living kept the place from being overrun." But change is inevitable.
The outside world became more aware of McCarthy in the 1970s, as legislation turned it (and millions of surrounding acres) into a national park. Kennecott (the nearby mining ruins) and McCarthy was an enigma—and people took notice. Humans enjoy "pondering that enigma of ruins . . .: is this where we've been, or where we're going?" "History moved on, but places left behind could stir the soul." "A powerful sense of place, like Kennecott's, was an essential precursor to the sense of loss such places aroused."
There was an inherent tension as some 'reverse migration' began in the mid-1970s; "a return of humans attracted by the absence of other humans." McCarthy residents were contrarian and grappling with how to proceed. Time was taking its toll, and the ruins were also starting to collapse. But rebuilding them might create a false "Disneyification." They settled on a concept of arrested decay—the goal was "to hold back "progress" in one direction and collapse in the other." The area had been "about destruction and renewal. That was how history moved too. How were you going to stop change?"
In modern times, tourism in this national park has grown exponentially. McCarthy had a television show (Edge of Alaska) for a time. The road is now there but inaccessible for larger vehicles. The mail plane now comes twice a day (vs. once a week), and residents have Internet access (presumably through cell towers; Amazon Prime is popular). Even in 2016, though, "McCarthy retained itse sense of being a place apart." One called it "A commune run by anarchists." It remains a hard life; said one local, consoling another: tell me what you need, and I'll tell you how to live without it.
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Last year, I read Pilgrim's Wilderness, also by Kizzia, about Papa Pilgrim and his terrible deeds. That family lived in/near McCarthy, so this book intrigued me. I enjoyed the read, though this tale is not as compelling as Pilgrim's story. It is rather a chronicle trying to scrape together a quickly-fading past. Lots of names and gaps in the story can make it hard to follow in places, but it is sprinkled with intriguing observations and amusing stories. The residents would laugh at things that we decimate a 'regular' person, and be decimated by things we would laugh at. They were communally-minded but prone to petty grievances that could escalate into years-long feuds. They were impressively creative, using the extensive goods left behind by the mining company in innovative ways. They were also amazingly patient—nothing happened fast in McCarthy.
I love ruins, and "Ghost towns are monuments to impermanence." Though they fade, "Our pasts and our histories are with us whether or not we know them. There is immense value in that knowing, in cultivating an awareness that helps us understand the contours of the present."
Rating: B+
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