As spring arrives, the eyes of Anchorage's outdoor enthusiasts turn toward Chugach State Park. The snow recedes and trails dry out.

Locals and tourists of all ages -- day hikers, overnight campers, serious climbers -- drive into the immense wilderness paradise by the thousands, flocking to Crow Pass, Bird Ridge, Beluga Point, McHugh Creek, Flattop, Williwaw Lakes, Wolverine Peak, Arctic Valley, Eagle River and other relatively easy-to-get-to spots within an hour's drive of downtown.

But most of the park lies far off the beaten path. In fact, beyond any path at all. Though situated within the boundaries of Alaska's largest city, the bulk of its 495,204 acres -- about two-thirds the size of Yosemite National Park -- largely remain unvisited by people.

Yet once in a while, a lone and awestruck human will wander through the more remote stretches.

A wanderer like Carl Battreall, whose photographs make up "Chugach State Park: Alaska's Backyard Wilderness" (Greatland Graphics, $19.95). Though there have been many guide books that included the park, this volume, with brief texts by Bill Sherwonit, Sharon Cissna, Toby Smith and Battreall himself, appears to be the first ever glossy photo book entirely dedicated to it.

"The amazing thing is that no other photographer had done this project," said Battreall, who will give several public talks about his work in Anchorage this month.

Battreall was born to explore. Both of this parents worked for the U.S. Forest Service. He grew up near Kings Canyon National Park in California's sequoia country. He studied photography and worked around Monterey Bay.

A trip to the Himalayas reset his focus.

"I wanted to live somewhere where I could be on a glacier within a few hours of my house," he said. "Alaska was perfect."

Moving here, he continued to hone his skills, winning the Alaska Conservation Foundation's Daniel Houseberg Award for nature photography and receiving a Rasmuson fellowship.

His new book contains pictures of flora and fauna and vistas near Thunderbird Falls, Powerline Trail and other popular attractions that park regulars will recognize.

But it also has gorgeous plates of places one sees on maps and yearns to see in person, only to be thwarted by constraints of time, weather or stamina. Places like Steamroller Pass -- a destination as daunting as its name implies. Places where, if you can get there, you might be the only person in sight for a week or two.

"I think most Alaskans and tourists think Chugach State Park is crowded and lacking the wilderness character of the more remote areas of Alaska," Battreall said. "If you visit Glen Alps on a nice weekend, you would really believe it."

The overflow of sightseers and berry pickers at that particular trailhead -- with paved parking for 100 cars, four toilets, a scenic overlook with benches and stairs leading to the well-trod Flattop trail -- led to mass ticketing of vehicles parked along the narrow road last August.

Away from the parking lots, however, are spaces as empty and majestic as anything in America's national park system.

"I was most impressed with the upper Peters Creek valley, especially Rumble Pass and the amazing Bellicose Peak," Battreall said. "I was also reminded how spectacular the upper Eagle River valley is. I took my time and explored the many side valleys. People like to just blow through that trail, usually in a day. But they are missing a really special part of the (Chugach)."

The project was not always a walk in the park. The wind presented a recurring hurdle.

"There seems to always be just enough wind to make things difficult," Battreall writes in the book. "I soon realized I needed to use the wind to my advantage if this project was going to be successful."

His solution involved a very dark filter and very long exposure to emphasize the motion of clouds, grass and water. He used it even on sunny days and the result is intense color that, while true to life in the Chugach, might seem surreal in other places.

At times the quest bordered on life-threatening. The summer of 2010, when many of the images were made, was one of the wettest on record. The rain washed away much of the scree from passes and gullies, making them exceptionally hard, he recalled.

"I was climbing a gully near Eklutna Glacier and decided it was too dangerous. On the way down I slipped on the steep, bullet-proof dirt, I had to self-arrest with my ice ax in the dirt. It was the first time in over 10 years that I felt uncomfortable in the mountains."

Preparing for danger -- or knowing to avoid it -- is important for those who step away from the more comfortable and heavily used sections. But that's what Battreall recommends for anyone able to do it.

"My advice is to get as far as you can from the trail heads," he said. "The deeper into the park you go, the quieter. Get up above tree line and go off trail.

"Wandering the alpine tundra is Alaska at its best."