Visit for the Glaciers, Savor the Food

In the first year of my friendship with Swiss Pete, he shared countless stories about McCarthy. This picturesque town, a seven-hour, 315-mile drive from our home in Anchorage, lies nestled in a breathtakingly wild region of eastern Alaska, filled with ice fields, towering peaks, winding rivers, and boreal forests, inhabited by a resilient community. Off the beaten path and far from modern conveniences, McCarthy sits at the end of a 60-mile gravel road that traces the remnants of an old railway near the melting glacier within Wrangell-St. Elias National Park—the largest national park in the U.S., which dwarfs the entire nation of Switzerland, where Pete spent his childhood before relocating to Alaska, his chosen home.

After months of listening to Pete's enchanting tales of McCarthy, I finally agreed to take him there for a visit. He had constructed a modest cabin above Kennecott*, an abandoned copper mine just five miles from the heart of McCarthy. At that time, there was no vehicle bridge across the river (the current bridges are privately owned and accessible only to locals for a fee), so the only way to transport larger items into or out of McCarthy was during winter, when locals would create a pathway across the frozen ice. We aimed to arrive early enough to transport Pete’s truck across the river, moving it from the McCarthy side to the mainland before the ice began to break up in spring.

A few days prior to our departure, Pete assured me the ice was still safe to drive on, but by the time we reached McCarthy, it was too late—the ice had fractured, leaving his truck stranded for another season until winter's return. C’est la vie. We parked at the end of the road beside the Kennicott River, near the glacier's edge, and carried our gear across the metal footbridge before trekking another five miles to the enchanting, snow-covered ghost town of Kennecott. For the next week, I would live on mac and cheese and instant oatmeal, while falling in love with the quirky town of McCarthy.

In the two decades since that first journey with Pete, McCarthy has transformed into my primary residence, attracting an increasing number of adventurous travelers, seasonal workers, and free-spirited individuals seeking to truly escape, many of whom end up never leaving. Some are drawn by the glaciers, rivers, or breathtaking alpine landscapes. Others are captivated by the fascinating history of Kennecott and its early 20th-century copper boom that abruptly halted in 1938, leaving a legacy that shaped modern McCarthy. Surprisingly, more and more visitors are now making the trek to McCarthy for its food, as word spreads—even among Alaskans in other regions—that McCarthy’s culinary offerings rival its natural beauty.

When I began visiting in the early 2000s, the only bar in town was at the historic McCarthy Lodge. Fast forward to today, and alongside a celebrated fine dining restaurant, you’ll discover a variety of innovative food trucks, cozy cafés, and casual Mytouries, all supported by a vibrant community of business owners, chefs, and restaurateurs dedicated to creating delicious experiences. Each year, tens of thousands of visitors are drawn to this charming, rustic town, home to a mix of full-time residents and seasonal locals.

“I’ve always dreamed of owning a restaurant,” says Joe Macchina, the chef-owner of the Meatza Wagon located in the heart of Kennecott. However, he admits that his younger self never envisioned this dream unfolding in this part of Alaska. “Being open-minded and adventurous made it possible,” he adds. After working as a chef at the McCarthy Lodge, he launched the Meatza Wagon in 2015, a food truck known for hearty comfort food like meatball subs, pork carnitas, and seasonal dishes such as nasturtium-adorned souvlaki steak bowls (there are numerous plant-based options as well). “What makes me excel at the Meatza Wagon is my love for this place,” Macchina explains.

Operating a business in McCarthy is no easy feat due to the challenging geography. “We’re thriving despite the off-grid lifestyle and our unique menus,” says Rebecca Bard, co-owner of the Potato, a potato-themed restaurant that serves as an unofficial community hub. Throw a dart at the Potato’s calendar, and you’re bound to hit a summer concert or event. Stick around long enough, and you’ll likely meet nearly all of the 300 locals as well as the seasonal visitors passing through the valley.

Bard shares that the challenges are significant. “We cover our own freight costs. It’s a logistical nightmare. People often don’t realize what it’s like being this far out without certain supplies.” Nevertheless, she believes it’s all worthwhile. “I thrive on the challenge and love seeing people surprised that they can find great food out here in the middle of nowhere.”

At the Potato, chef Ian Gyori crafts made-to-order hand-cut curly fries. You can choose between classic or rosemary garlic flavors, served as-is or stuffed inside a burrito. Feeling hungover? Top them with eggs and jalapenos for a Spudnik Supreme. The miso salad, featuring a soft-boiled egg and lemon miso vinaigrette, reflects the ambitious dinner specials, which frequently highlight the renowned local salmon from the Copper River or other fresh seafood.

Businesses in McCarthy operate seasonally, generally from Memorial Day through Labor Day weekend, with some smaller venues not opening until June. A few casual dining spots near the end of the road on the west side provide convenient options for those not wanting to trek, bike, or shuttle the mile into “town.” This includes Wild Dogs, a food truck offering hot dogs and reindeer sausages at the footbridge and parking area. The name is fitting, as wolves, foxes, and coyotes can often be seen in the vicinity.

Food always tastes better in the wild, yet it’s surprising to discover a nationally recognized fine dining spot with a celebrated chef in such a remote location. However, just two hours from the nearest paved road, you’ll find Salmon & Bear Restaurant. Located within the McCarthy Lodge, this establishment features chef Joshua Slaughter’s take on new-Alaska cuisine. “At Salmon & Bear, our goal is to create a sense of place through food,” says owner Neil Darish. The menu emphasizes foraged ingredients from the local area, such as chickweed, dandelions, morels, and berries, along with local Copper River sockeye salmon, halibut, black cod, and rockfish. Fresh produce, chickens, eggs, and greens are sourced from neighboring farms around McCarthy.

Adjacent to Salmon & Bear lies the Lodge’s New Golden Saloon, a revival of the original Golden Saloon that once thrived in a now-collapsed building a couple of blocks away during the copper and gold rush. Years ago, the original bar was relocated to the new lodge, the sole venue within a two-hour radius with a full liquor license. Over the years, it has greatly expanded, adding a spacious second area, enhancing its deck, and creating an outdoor performance space for weekend live music and occasional open mic events. The covered patio at the nearby Kennicott Glacier Lodge is equally lively. Here, in the summer, both hotel guests and the public can enjoy simple yet delicious lunch offerings and prix-fixe family-style dinners, or simply relax with a cold beer after a long hike while taking in the views with fellow travelers.

“You won’t find a community like this anywhere else in such a place,” says Kennecott resident and park geologist Mike Loso. After nearly twenty years of living and working here, I can certainly agree. McCarthy is a remote haven where self-sufficient individuals carve out lives on their own terms, exchanging convenience for unique experiences. My former boss and long-time co-owner of St. Elias Alpine Guides, Wayne Marrs, sums it up: “The challenges here attract a certain kind of person. They’re resourceful, diligent, and the kind of folks you can rely on.”

Swiss Pete eventually parted with his cabin, passing on his old generator and tools that I used to construct my own home a decade ago. He still visits annually, and I look forward to grilling salmon together and harvesting fresh salad from the garden to enjoy with cold beers at my place near McCarthy. In the fall, I use his old axe to chop firewood and think of him while I stoke the wood stove long after the tourists have left and the restaurants have closed. The next time the ice melts, venture across the footbridge to discover this close-knit, naturally beautiful, and remarkably well-fed town for yourself.

*The spelling of Kenn·i/e·cott varies depending on whether one is referring to natural features like the valley, river, and glacier, or human-made features linked to the remnants of the old Kennecott Copper Corporation.

Author and publisher Jeremy Pataky divides his time between McCarthy and Anchorage, Alaska.Nathaniel Wilder is a photographer based in Anchorage who is passionate about all things Alaska.Fact-checked by Victoria PetersenEdited by Paola Banchero