Winds - Headwaters of the Green

As with many before me, i have become infatuated with these mountains. They are harsh and rugged, yet welcoming and beautiful all at the same time. Travel is tough over talus, or easy and idylic through meadows of lush grass and flowers, invigorating through clear and cold mountain streams coming off the high peaks. 
I am not the only one; generations have come here to find solitude or comraderie, wild adventure or simply beautiful views. Different than most of the greater Yellowstone complex, these rounded and craggy granite peaks hold some of the largest glaciers in the Rocky Mountain range in the US, yet they get a small fraction of the visitation that the tetons, neighbors to the north, recieve. Travel is generaly easy out here, unlike the in the tetons where all trails lead up, usually quite steeply. Here the name of the game is long, undulating distance. 

To end the excellent runoff season of 2023 in the West, and because i havent been climbing much this year due to a varietly of life circumstances, Lindsay and i headed up to the start of the Green. Although we had been through the true headwaters, up and over the ridge where the green starts as a series of trickles coming off a receding glacier and some semi-permenant snow fields, for this trip we wanted to try to boat the river down, then out of the mountains. The goal was to packraft from whenever possible through past green river lakes, then out and around the northwestern part of the winds back towards Pinedale/Cora. Most people who have floated this section opted for the much easier method of walking up the river corridor then floating back out. Rather than default to the norm, lindsay and i instead opted to come in over the ridgeline, so we could follow a continous stream all the way from its headwaters and watch it grow from nothing to a trickle to a river. This would, of course, mean hauling boats up thousands of vertical feet into the alpine, but the alpine regions of the Winds are always worth the visit. 

After a frantic last minute packing session, we set off for New Fork after work. I had not yet been to New Fork so i wasnt sure quite what to expect. We set up a bike shuttle (dropped a bike in the woods at the green river winter trailhead) and started walking from the New Fork narrows trailhead just before sunset. A mile and a half in saw us at the head of the upper New Fork Lake on a beautiful glacial beach away from the crowds at the narrows campsite.

Walking in to camp at the head of New Fork Lake

The first real day of the long weekend had us crossing the New Fork River twice in a long, gradual ascent of the New Fork drainage. I had not heard much of this drainage but as a climber, it seems that anywhere you go in the Winds holds dramatic, sweeping granite walls and domes. New Fork was no different and seems like a great option to avoid the hoards of Cirque of the Towers and Deep Lake while also having a shorter and easier walk (and pavement nearly to the trailhead). The drainage itself was stunning, and, given the right time, seems like it could also support a good packrafting run almost back to the lake. 

On the trail

Upper New Fork River

Sometime after lunch the trail really started to take off up into the headwaters and the alpine. Some concerning weather also started threatening which added to the concern about not having a place to set up the tent if the sky really opened up. Luckily we only got a few light showers and made it to Kenny lake, which we had all to ourselves, just in time to freshen up in the lake and watch the beautiful sunset.

Wildflowers at Kenny Lake

Sunset at Kenny Lake

Our second full day on the trail started with a quick descent into the upper New Fork river basin area before re-ascending to a pass that would take us into the upper Green River area. We happened to catch the wildflowers just as they were peaking, which also meant the mosquitos were peaking as well... At the pass we finally had visibility into the central core of the wind river range, a steep and unforgiving area of rock and ice. This part of the range was pretty quiet, even on a prime "Pie and Beer" day weekend, and we had not seen another group since mid afternooon the day before, so we took advantage of the solitude and went skinny dipping in Clark Lake. 

The paintbrush trail. 

Recovery time in the alpine at our final pass before descending down to the river

The final descent down switch backs seemed to take a long time, but was more reminiscent of the PNW than of the central rockies, with tall trees covered in moss and large, broken peaks. When we finally hit the valley floor at three forks park, the river looked doable, but some internet scouting seemed to suggest the next mile and a half might have some intense whitewater, so we opted to walk rather than transition. Definitely was a good idea to walk, as there were several sections of class 4 water in a shallow gorge that was full of wood, where exit would be difficult. We ended up camping at a river bend right before the beaver park bridge in the shadow of Square Top.

Dinner by the river

The wilderness section of the green above green river lakes was absolutely stellar, the views were amazing and there were a few fun rapinds. Unfortunately the river was also choked with wood which meant we had to portage ~9 times in ~7 miles, slowing us down quite a bit. All but one of the portages were just a single log that was wedged. If i return, i would bring a small hand chainsaw and clean up some of them with a few fast cuts, which would really improve the character of the run. We paddled upper green river lake (and the river between) but opted to walk around lower as the paddling was slow and the lake was long. 

Beautiful floating in the Green River wilderness section

After upper green river lake the water transitioned from glacial milk and a fairy blue-green color to beautifully clear. Coming out of lower green river lake the water was amongst the clearest i have floated on, with a hint of green. After a few swift miles the river broadened and deepened, to the point of almost being a lake. The water was wider and deeper than other "slow" rivers i have been on with 4x that flow which meant we were really crawling. Looking at the elevation profile, i thought something must have been up with the topo model because it was heavily stepped... in reality... this is the river profile. Almost completely flat for miles followed by very steep miles before returning to almost flat. We didnt get nearly as far as hoped. I was hoping to get within ~10 miles of the takeout (meaning 24 miles on the water) but with sunset only an hour and a half away we were barely 16 miles in and the water was seemingly flat. Readjusting, we agreed to stop at Moose Creek, because there should be a rapid section right after that which we would start with the following morning. Well... things dont go according to plan and in reality the rapid began about a half mile upstream of Moose Creek. At this point we were tired (and a bit cold, we didnt bring dry suits) from the long day on the water. Nonetheless we pressed on because of the lack of camping (marshy on one side, private and/or cow infested on the other). Sure enough, the crux of the whole run came soon after. I made it through the rapid but Lindsay flipped backwards in a lateral/hole. Looking back, i managed to grab her gear that came floating down to me, make my way to shore, and set up to rescue her. She was stuck on a rock close to shore, but with a sizable stream to navigate through that could easily sweep her further down. This is why we practice rescue techniques! I threw a rope, got set as a body anchor, and she was able to sweep herself across the flow to shore, fine if a bit shocked.  A quick scout seemed to show a decent camp site another halfmile down the river with a minor rapid to navigate. After collecting ourselves a bit, we bee-lined to camp, happy to be off the water. 

Looking back at the winds from the upper green

The crux of the Moose Creek rapid section

Camp in the high desert out of the winds

Our final river day started off beautifully. After resting, we were much more mentally ready for the remaining rapid section (a few miles of continuous CL2/2+). The fish were EVERYWHERE, jumping out of the water every 30 seconds or so. I really wish we would have brought a fly road, if for this section alone. Before long the river started backing up again into a long flat and winding section. With time slowly getting away from us, an up-river wind really picking up, and the prospect if needing to still float 8+ miles of river, unclear if it would be flat or swift, we pulled over and called it. I ran the remainder back to the bike, biked back to the car through off and on rain, and made it to the car JUST in time for the sky to really open up. All in all, it was a stellar trip with amazing views, but equally amazing amounts of frustration with portages and flat water. I can't wait to go back! It seems that, if you are willing to work for it, there is a lot of good packrafting to be had in the winds, and maybe next time i wont pass up the fly rod. 

   Some of the Sage Brush Ocean wildflowers (including a Paintbrush Rainbow)

Dolores

 With the Dolores flowing again this year due to a massive snowpack, i, like many others, jumped at the opportunity to get on it! below is a non-chronological account of some of my experiences

McPhee dam to Bradfield

There is minimal information on this section, BUT there is a road that parallels it the whole way! A brief line in a guidebook suggested CL1+, and because we had changed plans a few times this was an easy way to extend a trip. We drove up and put in at a dispersed camping site about as close to the dam as is legal. Even this close to the dam, the water was cloudy suggesting that the reservoir had experienced a truely outstanding runoff season. The float down to Bradfield was easy and straightforward. No cross-river hazards but a few sections that the trees were hanging well into the river course. Despite years of almost non-existant flows, the river corridor looked surprisingly healthy. This was definitely the least scenic section of river i did this year, in a sloping gorge with little exposed rock, but was still well worth doing at least once. After about 13 miles  and ~2 hours of moderately fast, splashy CL1+/2- water we returned to the bradfield bridge.

A common view in the Dolores Gorge below the dam

Bradfield to Dove Creek

By far my facorite secton of the Dolores, and possibly the best Cl2+ run i have done yet, this section was stunning. There is a lot of information on this section out there already. My experience was about 7 miles of mediocore canyon and relatively flat water that abruptly changed to continuous wave trains, 2+ rapids, and absolutely amazing rock walls in a deep gorge lined by gorgeous ponderosas, everything that i love. It was almost too much fun. I wouldnt heasitate to return when this section flows again. We stayed the night at the Box Elder Campground. What a place! It took us ~3 hours to continue downstream from Bradfield to take out at the campground with flows at ~1200.

Taking a breather and grabbing some snacks in between wave trains in the Ponderosa Gorge section

Slickrock to Bedrock

I ran this as a multiple night overnight trip. At the time, the slickrock boatramp was closed, but one advantage of packrafts is you can get in and out wherever it is public land. I found a spot a few mile supstream that was BLM and put in there with Davis and Jennifer. We took 1 night to float from slickrock to Gypsum (only about 4 total floating hours at ~2200 cfs). The section was scenic if relatively flat, with some private land, signs of past uranium mining use, and the usual desert rock layers. This section definitely sees less traffic than up or downstream sections, and many of the campsites had overgrown landings and were starting to be reclaimed by invasives. While exploring around camp, i even found an old microblade, who knows how long it had been there and if anyone else had found it, but with habitation in the area dating back thousands of years it could very well be wuite old. It was a nice warm up section with a roadside CL2 just above the boatramp. Our layover at the boatramp (which was expected to be ~a few hours) ended up lasting the night. Expecting Lindsay and some other friends who would be in a 16ft raft to meet us by early afternoon, we set up under one of the shade structures and waited... and waited... and waited. Eventually around 4-5 pm lindsay showed up but without out other friends and the boats. I guess they had taken some dirt road (instead of the easy highway, for some reason) and had to backtrack. They eventually showed up around last light. I was a bit frustrated, but i guess i should have been more explicit in trip planning and specified driving routes to take more clearly. 

We put in at gypsum the following morning in between many other groups, including a large group of packrafters. Once in the canyon, however, our frustration melted away. The canyon was beautiful, narrow, and what i would describe as the epitome of an easy and scenic desert river trip complete with sweeping views, red rock, a thin strip of green around the river, and signs of past inhabitants. We topped about 2/3rds of the way through to camp. Not one to just sit around all day, Lindsay and i went up a steep drainage behind camp to see if we could make it to the rim. We didnt, but we did make it to a high point. The view from above is almost always worth the effort. On the way back down we even found an arrowhead!

Of note, the guidebooks mentioned this section as having a few CL3 rapids and many CL2s. We saw nothing harder than an easy CL2, certainly much easier than the Ponderosa gorge section. Worth the trip regardless though. 

Rico to Dolores

For the first weekend in June, Lindsay, Andrew and I were originally planning on floating Bradfield all the way to slickrock, however the morning of the trip Lindsay wasnt feeling up to it. Instead, Andrew and i called an audible, continued with the trip but did the alpine section above Mcphee instead. There is a bit of info out there on this section but it is generally limited to just the Stoner section around Stoner, Co. 

Andrew and i met up in Dolores, dropped a car (noting that we would coincidentally be in town for Dolores River Fest if we made good time) and drove up to Rico where we would put in, scouting along the way. In Rico, it was rainy and cold and almost dinner time so we of course went to the bar to grab some food before heading out. By the time we started out, the sun had re-emerged and we could soak in the beautiful mountian views. A short ~10 mile float (about an hour) took us to a campsite for the night. It was a bit strange doing a long roadside section where we camped at a dispersed car camp site. The upper section was fun, very fast, with a short bedrock box canyon section, and super senic. 

The next morning we started early and got right in to the fast clear and COLD water. After a quick snack break at the usual daily put in (bear creek bridge) we hit the main event rapids of the upper dolores, the "stoner section" The surf waves were super fun, among the biggest waves i have boated yet. Shortly after there was a significant diversion dam that we had identified as the main hazard, but was reasonably run on far river left. Downstream the river generally eased but the large wavetrains continued all the way into town. In town we showed up to the river fest in full swing, dried out our gear and went over to enjoy the music, grab some food and beers. Pretty good for a super last minute change in plans! The whole section could likely be done in a long day (something close to 40 miles?) with 800 on the guage in Rico and 2000 on the guage in Dolores. 

Some river shots courtesy of andrew's go pro

AKP to BTT Part 4: Koyukuk and Out

 It has been almost a year since we set off for this trip. It is hard to believe that this trip is so quickly becoming just a memory, although one that i hope to build on as soon as i can. As i reflect, it is hard to bring experiences like this to words. When i think back, i feel the cold water, the midnight sun, the strong wind, the tired legs from hours and days of bushwhacking with heavy packs, the joy of being in a beautiful place, and the bittersweet satisfaction of getting on the plane and going home. The main thing i have to say about this experience is that writing about it does not do justice, one must go and experience, be surrounded and engulfed by the wilderness in order to understand. 

We met the koyukuk in a grey haze. Not sure if this was due to wildfires that we would later learn were in the area, or if it was due to weather, the haze clouded some of our views, and we only briefly glimpsed the namesake of the park, the Gates of the Arctic, several miles upstream from where we were on the koyukuk. 

Koyukuk on the Left, Tinayguk on the Right, Andrew down the Middle

From here on out, we knew the trip would be a breeze, and towards the end of this section i was yearning for the rugged mountains and tough travel that we were leaving behind. The river generally got wider, flatter, easier. The campsites, more obvious and abundant, were showing signs of human traffic. The climate was changing as we moved south, away from the arctic and into the subarctic. We saw more birds, beavers, and, intereatingly, more riverside geology. As we left the Brooks behind and entered the Koyukuk-Yukon flats river travel became more about paddling than about running rapids, and before we knew it, we rounded a bend to be greeted by housing, the first major sign of civilization besides planes that we had seen since leaving Anaktuvuk. 

Soem excellent Chevron Folding in the Koyukuk flats

I dont mean to say, however, that the final ~week of the trip was without incident. One evening at camp the innernet for our tent popped a hole and the mosquitos started streaming in as we were bedding down. An hour later with several patching methods and some sewing (i knew i threw that in the kit for a reason!), though, we were back to being separated from the outside world by a thin mesh, thats all it takes. 

Our last camp in the Brooks

Enjoying pancakes at the crack of Noon

Some days later, at a site that had been recently used for camping on a gravel bar, while trying to get to sleep in the midnight sun, i heard some rustling that i first attributed to a sleeping andrew. the sound quickly moved and i knew something was outside. I was the only one still awake, and, after grabbing glasses and throwing on some sandles, i emerged to see a wolf staring back at me, maybe 15 feet away, with our water filter in his mouth. This young wolf, apparently looking for food, had managed to get under andrews deck bag and extract the filter. Without words, the wolf stared at me and said

"This is mine now, what are you going to do about it? Do something i dare you"

Lindsay and andrew awoke to me screaming at the wolf, trying to simultaneously scare it away and get it to drop the filter. We were only a day out from bettles at this point so the filter wasnt vital (we had other purifying methods) but was definitely a comfort item. 

Lindsay, in her groggy startled state, yelled at me to go after it "We NEED THAT!", so, with a paddle in one had for defense, and bear spray in the other hand, i walked off into the brush where the wolf had disappeared. 

The water filter, post recovery from our thieving wolf friend.

Our Wolf Friends prints. 

Within a few minutes, i had found the filter. The wolf, after deciding that this was neither food nor a good chew toy, had droped everything and left. After gathering the pieces  i returned as Lindsay and Andrew began their search for the filter. Lindsay had apparently taken the safety off her spray though, and accidentally set the can off a bit as we walked together back to the tent. I can only describe what came out of the can as a dark redness from the depths of hell, something out of a movie. Luckily it only really got on one of the paddles and we were fine, and had recovered the (mostly) undamaged filter as well! The Intake hose had been cut up by the wolf so from there on, filtering required sitting in the water, and from the back gave the appearance of someone enjoying some self-pleasure in the water...

The final campsite of the trip, Bettles is over the low ridge in the background. 

In bettles, we began the process of re-integration. We cleaned up, did laundry, repacked gear, checked out the visitors center (and wrote our stories in to the log books), sent some mail from the post office (whose temporary hours had been posted on cardboard back in 2006, maybe not so temporary after all) and got a hot meal at the Bettles Lodge. That night, we experienced darkness that could almost be called night for the first time in weeks. It was a trip that is memorable for so many reasons, and i cant wait to return. 

Back in fairbanks, we took a few side trips to do a bit more water sampling on other rivers that had not yet been sampled. I needed an excuse to make the trip, and then to make it longer, taking water samples for resource management (with Adventure Scientists) was an easy excuse and well worth the extra weight and effort.

Enjoying the Evening on the Koyukuk

The sun has almost set! Taken shortly after midnight, south of the brooks range

Lazy floating on open water

Dinner and the first cold beer (or drink of any sort) in weeks

We made it to the Visitors Center!

Post Trip Picture at the takeout beach.

AKP to BTT Part 3 Tinayguk - Saphire Water

Picturesque. Idyllic. Beautiful. Sometimes words just aren't enough for a place. In this case that place is the upper Tinayguk valley. Sharp craggy peaks peppered with black spruce and capped with a fresh coat of white, bisected by a perfect u shaped valley of the greenest greens, with a trail of sapphire running down the middle. This is that place, the place of dreams. 

Waking up at the crack of noon (but did time really matter? This just meant sun in the south not the north) in the valley to crystal blue skies and water to match, broken up into little bite sized braids, was something out of a dream after 30 something hard miles walking through the Endicott range; we were back to a liquid highway. Well, almost. We needed to find where the braids came together first. Taking advantage of the setting though, we spent some time working on self care before continuing. Clothes that had been trashed from thrashing through brush were renewed, well at least cleaned as much as you can in water that is only slightly above freezing. Bodies followed suit, the brisk north wind helped to dry but was an emphatic reminder of where we were, this was in fact the arctic and after a bath it definitely felt that way.

Sometime around 5 pm, with boats packed and dry suits on, we set off again... Walking, not floating. We were still in the previously frozen, cobbled plane of the aufeis. We picked up a thread of water, and before long we were back floating. 

I had been studiously examining satellite imagery leading into the trip and had noticed that we *might* just catch the last of the aufeis. We rounded a corner as several streams converged and there it was! The remnants of a sea of ice, still sizable but nothing like it's winter self, covering the lowest end of the cobbled wasteland that we had come through. 

In the section that remained, we did manage to find some candlestick ice, a new to me phenomenon. Here the ice forms in layers, similar to the layers of the snowpack i study all winter in the Wasatch, except during melt, sections of thicker ice will decompose along the crystal boundaries to form long columns, so cool!

Leaving the aufeis, the Tinayguk began to live up to its name. 

Before Bob Marshall came to the area, the name for this river is unclear. Marshall named the river, but, thankfully, rather than choosing some boring name (looking at you, Fortymile), he instead chose a word from the native language, here that word was moose (Tinayguk). We certainly saw many while on the Tinayguk, in the river, on the hillside, at the rivers edge. 

Our first evening on the Tinayguk ended with what is possibly one of the most beautiful camp sites i have ever had the pleasure of staying at. A cobbled bar with a swift section of river right next to us, we enoyed a fire and read our books while watching the "sunset". Every hour i kept taking another round of pictures because, somehow, things kept getting more and more stunning.

In the morning, we took advantage of the position, and the fact that it was more or less smooth sailing from here down to bettles, and had some river fun, practicing rescue and throwbags by walking up river, jumping in and swimming down past camp. What a setting for some river safety fun!

Slowly, the water began to cloud with side streams coming in carying silt. I had ambitious plans to walk up a ridge at the end of the Tinayguk that would put us close to the Gates of the arctic, but, with the memory of walking still all to recent in our heads, and feet that still were not quite recovered, we poted to continue downstream. Our last night on the Tinayguk had another stellar campsite which we arrived at early, not wanting to leave the tTinayguk just yet we opted for one ore night just a few miles upstream of the confluence. At camp,  though, while fishing and bathing, we heard some strange sounds, rockfall maybe? we couldnt quite place it, but we did learn that trees can echo! From here on, every so often andrew would exclaim "TREES!" to admire the echo that returned to us off nothing but the trees. 

The Tinayguk was swift and clear, and ended all to quickly. After one more day and a half of quick and easy floating we and hit the confluence with the North fork of the Koyukuk. All too quickly it would seem, i wish we had more time to spend on that beautiful sapphire water. It was truly the highlight of a trip full of highlights.