Cordova Chronicles: Throne room upgrade underway

The scenic Power Creek Road is a popular byway for walkers, joggers, bikers, and folks out for a drive. Skater’s Cabin, a landmark at the start of that road, is used for a variety of activities, including weddings, picnics, large group gatherings, as well as occasional ice skating.

Plans are afoot to repair the lower level of the aging cabin, whose untreated logs are in rough shape.

Meanwhile, work is almost complete on a nearby upgrade that is hard to overlook.

It’s an outhouse. And a beauty, at that.

Dick Shellhorn unloading gear from a Cessna 180 on the Ruth Glacier, June 1996. The Don Sheldon Hut outhouse is visible in the upper left. The peak of Mt. McKinley is top center.
Photo courtesy of Dick Shellhorn

On first glance, it might be mistaken for a sauna. The exterior is golden-hued cedar and  features narrow opaque windows on both sides to allow light to enter. Evidently it will be a unisex model, as there is only one entrance. It appears to incorporate the latest technology in ventilation and sanitation, which is great. Stinky Porta-Potties just don’t cut it. I’m not sure if a key will be required for entry. Hopefully not, for as we all know, when Nature Calls, it’s not a message that can be put on hold.

Regardless, it will tough to compete with Cordova’s most popular outhouse, located at the end of the Alaganik road near the walkway leading to the scenic viewing platform. Built and maintained by the USFS, this spacious two-holer has separate entrances for guys and gals, and also features some delightful interior artwork done by local artists and volunteers.

Advertisement

Further down Alaganik Slough, at a place named Pete Dahl, is another outhouse. It will never win any prizes, but certainly does a lot of business. Located adjacent to our duck shack, this metal-sheathed utilitarian model was hammered together back in 1959. While Harry Curran, Smokey Bernard, and my Dad were adding the finishing touches to our cabin, at age 15, I was commissioned to build an outhouse out of the remaining scraps of lumber.

It still stands today. The yellow quarter-moon painted on the green door is it’s most artistic feature. Its proximity to our cabin means a high score for accessibility, especially when 40 mph winds are blowing rain sideways. Returning customers are always greeted with “How did it go?”, a double-edged inquiry that some don’t get.

Racing to the outhouse on a slippery plank walkway can be challenging, but it pales in comparison to actually moving the 800-pound structure. Why, do you ask, would anyone want to move an outhouse?  Well, unlike the City and USFS facilities, calling a Sanitary Service Vehicle for maintenance at Pete Dahl is not possible. When its 55 gallon capacity is reached, we discovered the best thing to do was sink another barrel, slide the house to a new location, and bury the old site.

One of my more exciting Pete Dahl moments occurred when I was sinking a section of black plastic culvert for Relocation #3.  I was standing inside the 5-foot tall section, battling water and mud while trying to set 6×6 posts to support the outhouse. I heard a slight noise, and looked up.

It was a brown bear, 20 feet away. My head was all that was visible sticking out of the hole, and while I was trying to decide what to do, the bear turned and looked.  I froze, shovel in hand.  The bruin eye-balled me for what seemed like forever, and then ambled away.  It goes without saying that the new outhouse had almost prematurely been baptized, and the event earned a special notation in our cabin journals.

Nature calls. A climber treks to the Hut outhouse on a day when ropes are not necessary.
Photo from Don Sheldon Mountain House Collection

Yet for a true all-around Prize Winner, none can top the famous outhouse near the Don Sheldon Mountain House in the Ruth Amphitheater of Mt. McKinley. In June of 1996, Jay Beaudin, John Davis, Larry Ermold, and I flew in from Talkeetna for four days of the greatest skiing of my life. The six-sided Hut was built by Sheldon, a pioneer McKinley pilot, back in 1966.  It is one of the few private in-holdings in all of McKinley National Park.  From its location on a rock outcropping overlooking the Ruth Gorge, the scale of the glaciers and nearby peaks is absolutely overwhelming. The peak of Mt. McKinley is 10 miles away, but seems within arm’s reach.

It was a warm, sunny day when we landed below the hut in Doug Geeting Air Service ski-equipped Cessna 180’s. After hauling all our gear up the glacier to the Hut, we sat outside, grilled steaks, and watched the sun turned mountains gold and pink.  While settling into the cabin, Davis noticed a long lenticular cloud over the peak of McKinley, and casually mentioned that from what he had read, that meant the weather was about to change.

The Don Sheldon Hut, Ruth Amphitheater, and Mt. McKinley, as seen from the famous Hut outhouse. Photo from Don Sheldon Mountain House Collection.

Sure enough, around midnight the hut began shaking in the wind, and by morning we were buried in a whiteout. The Hut outhouse was 50 feet away, somewhere. Luckily, someone had put up ski wands joined by rope on the path to the outhouse, for veering off the trail could mean stepping off a rock cliff into a sheer vertical drop of over three hundred feet.

Later, when the weather cleared, we admired not only an incredible view of Denali from the privy seat, but also those lines that some veteran mountaineer had wisely anchored in place.

Alaska is a big state, and a lot of it doesn’t have plumbing. Annual calendars displaying the top outhouses of the year abound, and there are some real beauties out there. The Sheldon hut privy won’t win any prizes for design, but for thrills and views, it earns my vote.

Plus we should all cast a vote of thanks for the many fine, well-maintained facilities we have right here in the Cordova area, where out-the-road doesn’t have to mean out-in-the-bushes.

Advertisement
Previous articleNPFMC okays plan for charter halibut RQE
Next articleJust like Christmas! There are 12 sites of Social Security
Dick Shellhorn
Dick Shellhorn is a lifelong Cordovan. He has been writing sports stories for the Cordova Times for over 50 years. In his Cordova Chronicles features, he writes about the history and characters of this Alaska town. Alaska Press Club awarded Shellhorn first place for Best Humor column in 2016 and 2020, and third place in 2017 and 2019. He also received second place for Best Editorial Commentary in 2019. Shellhorn has written two books about Alaska adventures: Time and Tide and Balls and Stripes. Reach him at dshorn44@gmail.com.