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.
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.
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.
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.
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