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.

AKP to BTT Part 2 Up and over the Endicott Range

When i think about places i wish i had more time to stay in, there are several that immediately come to mind: the northern Wind River range, desert riperian areas when the water flows like Muddy Creek... But at the top of this list is the Endicott Range of the Central Brooks. Although it took a few days longer to get up and over the range than we had planned, i wish i had more time up there to explore, the views were just incredible.

After our second day on the John, we continued for a few more hours, hoping to see the confluence with Hunt Fork, a location where many tend to put in, floating the easier sections of river downstream back to bettles. Shortly before the confluence, we pulled over to end our trip on the john because we were only adding miles to our hike at that point. After an hour of repacking bags, we shouldered our loads and started walking back up the forest to get to the ridge we were hoping would sheppard us to the other side of the range. 

Trying to find a way through the forrest to the ridgeline

The John river and Hunt Fork

Quickly we were greeted by the famous alaska Fauna that, until this point, had been more or less non-existent, our friends (or maybe not) the mosquitos. Combine this with the heav bushwhacking that we had to do to get back to the ridge and our heavy packs and the tenor of the group was quickly declining. Once on the ridge, however, we were greated to even worse bushwhacking combined with 30+ degree slopes, things really got physical as we clawed our way through the brush upwards. Eventually the brush thinned out and we got our first open view of the central Brooks, what a place. We also came across a stone hole in the ground- it looked like maybe it was an animal blind for hunting? Hard to say. After our trip i asked about it in Bettles and was told it was a hunting storage location- essentially the Inupiat people would store meat in caches like this, covered with rocks, for the winter to keep the meat frozen and away from other animals but available when needed. 

The freezer

I had hoped to make it all the way to one of several lakes that night to ensure water access. In our trip to the Fortymile area last year, we became well aquainted with tussocks and the boggy highlands that generally existed in this part of the world, however i was unfortunately surprised to find that the area we were walking through was more or less bone dry, with miles of tussock walking left before we got to the lake and a water supply that was quickly drying up. After a few more hours of traversing and trying to find water, we finally decided to call it a day - because the sun never set though, this was somewhere around 12:45am the next morning. While andrew and lindsay set up camp, trying to make the most of the extremely uneven landscape, i set off looking for water. I had hoped that as i moved off the ridge area, water would begin coming together into streams. Unfortunately i had to descend all the way to the bottom of the canyon below us, some thousand feet of elevation and a mile or so of walking, to find anything. Around 1:45 we finally had dinner, a delicious cheesy rissoto courtesy of Lindsay and passed out amongst the tussocks. 

Finally made it to camp

After a mile of walking, i finally found a beautiful alpine creek to grab water from.

Around noon we finally woke up. Upon checking the weather, however, it seemed that a big storm would be moving in that afternoon, either we would pack up and try and move quickly, or sit and wait out the storm for the next day. We chose the later and moved camp to a "less" lumpy spot- we were using inflatable dry bags to fill in the gaps between tussocks to limited succes. I made a quick run for more water and we waited. Then it rained... and rained... and rained... it didnt really let up that afternoon, evening, the next morning... We were all super drained from the walk to the ridge to the rest time was welcome. We spent the day reading, playing cards, sleeping, and occasionally poking our heads out to see when the next wave would come in.

A moment of bliss, lindsay grabbing a quick bite to eat.

The Crew, glad to be almost done on our way to ducky lake (it looks liek an upside down ducky!)

Soaking in the views

Soaking in the views (while resting the legs)

A mother grizzly and her cub

When the rain finally stopped we began our trek to that lake. It was miles of tussock hell in and out of the rain and sleet, with an occasional bushwhack through alder thickets. (un)luckily, we were just below snow line, which meant it was wet and cold, i almost would have preferred the snow. The landscape up in that range is a trip, without any trees to give context, everything simultaneously seems closer and farther away than it is. When we finally made it to the lake and set up camp we were once again exhausted from the trip, and a bit unnerved by all of the animal bones that surrounded the lake. Clearly, the eating was good for carnivores in the area, hopefully we would not be the next meal. 

An old axe found on the ridgeline, miles from the nearest tree, slowly being reintegrated into the landscape. Based on markings i think this axe was made in the early 1900's

Caribou shed

Finally back on track, the remainder of the ridge went as expected, full of stunning views, stout wind, small but plentiful blueberries, and a few grizzlies that quickly ran off at first sight of us. I had high hopes of getting up into the high reaches of the range and poking around, but, having burned a day waiting out the storm, and a few more due to slow travel, we didnt have the time to linger much. Nonetheless, the views from the ridgeline were stellar. With the HMG Pyramid, we even had our own alpine challet for dinner each night! As the ridge walking went by, the weather slowly got clearer, the walking slowly got easier, and i was wishing we had more time. Just before the final descent into the Tinayguk valley, we had a lovely afternoon tiramusu in the alpine, soaking up the sun and enjoying the softness of the alpine tundra under our bare feet. 

Looking down towards the Allen River, an alternate path that was identified for the trip and a place i would love to return to.

Alpine Flowers and the Tinayguk valley in the distance

Fianlly, some cloudberries! Found on the final descent to the Tinayguk

A panorama of the upper Tinayguk Valley and the Endicott Range

Andrew basking in the success of having made it to the Tinayguk with our first fire of the trip.

AKP to BTT Part 1 First Trip Through the Brooks

It has been a while since i have written, Life has been busy with work, SAR calls, house projects... It seems there isn't enough time to do all of the climbing or skiing that i want to do, let along rehash some of these experiences in written form, but, if nothing else i want to document this trip for myself. This is a place i have long wanted to visit, even before i knew it existed. Trip of a lifetime some might say, but i would consider my life unsuccessful if this is the last of these trips i do. I eagerly await a return to the Brooks.

It started with a line on a map, well... a few lines... on the map of rivers still needing sampling for the Adventure Scientists Wild and Scenic River project. In 2021 when we began planning for a trip to the FortyMile region for sampling and packrafting, the prospect of going to the brooks caught my eye. At the time, all of us decided that the perceived risk was too large- after all that is where people go so they can write books and film movies of their experiences, explore and find themselves in americas last-greatest wild space, surely we were just not cool enough. Also, arent the Grizzley Bears up there ruthless killers? Well, as with many things in life, misconceptions abound and the more research i did, the more attainable the trip seemed. Sure we would be entering an area the size of Maryland that had no roads or trails, but this area has a long history of inhabitation despite being percieved as the "Ultimate Wilderness" by those of us who were not in the know, a perception of a frozen wasteland with bears and wolves that will kill you for sport.

The reality was, of course, quite different. 

After months of planning, extensive food prep, evaluating and re-evaluating packing lists, and several expensive upgrades to the gear list after last year's alaska trip (including two alpacka expedition boats- because the deck would keep us drier and warmer, and would allow for better handling in the expected sustained CL3 whitewater, a new backpack for myself- one that wouldnt get wet and start to stick and could also fit inside the boat, and a new pyramid tent for its easy up ability and large yet lightweight footprint, and a re-visiting of our food protection strategy that would be more walking focused) we were finally in the home stretch. Countless group meetings to go over plans, route options, alternatives, gear, etc had finally led to us gettting on a plane and meeting up with andrew in seattle before making the final jump up to fairbanks. 

After landing (greated with nice weather, unlike last year when we landed in a constant dounpour) we began the task of gathering our last-minute gear requirements, our bear spray, fuel, and maybe a few snacks (and a hurried quest to find somewhere to store some gear while we would be out in the field for two weeks, seems like there should be something for this?? instead we ended up going with a U-Haul storage room and QUITE the charismatic uhaul customer service rep to show it to us). The only item that remained on the list as 10pm approached (with the sun outside still feeling like about 4 in the afternoon for Utah) was eye masks- we were not expecting the sun to set during the entirity of our trip, so, in a first for me, we all left behind our headlamps (something i consider a vital piece of gear for any trip) in favor of black out eye masks to aid in sleep, which we managed to find, plush and all, at Sephora of all places. 

The morning of our departure, we all awoke with a fair bit of cautious anticipation. After dropping off the gear that we would leave behind (a signle duffle bacg, in an entire U-haul storage room) we set off for the airport and weighed in, with pack weights ranging from 66 to 85 pounds, carefully tagged as "Heavy"... as if we needed someone else to tell us that our backpacks were heavy. For me, this was the first time i was flying in a plane this small (only 8 seats) and the "airport" more like a bus station, was filled with people going back to their homes, taking with them spoils from the big city: pizza, donuts, fast food, etc. 

For most of the flight, everything was shrouded in clouds (i was expecting rainy weather for our first few days) but as we crested over the central brooks, the clouds began to clear and we had what is possibly one of the most memorable landings i have ever had, Flying close through the mountains in deep mountain valleys, grazing ridgetops as we approached Anaktuvuk Pass and the landing strip right next to the river we were hoping to float. 

After landing, and grabbing out backpacks, we set off to complete our last "Chore" before starting off on our trip- checking in at the national park building in Anaktuvuk, which, unfortnately, had been closed for a few weeks, apparently the one ranger who worked there was at his home elsewhere in alaska fighting off a fire. We had a quick lunch and walked on the only road south out of town until it ended. So our adventure would begin.

After transforming from walking mode into rafting mode, and completing a short walk of the boats past an Aufeis section, the river came together enough to float! although slow and flat, the first few miles had amazing views, with the mountains passing in and out of the clouds, stunning scenery, and a somehow fitting utter lack of trees (we were north of treeline). Our first stop of the trip, a small completely circular lake with a small opening to the river that we chose as our dinner spot (i had noticed it in the sattelite imagery and lindsay said it was a must do stop). Our fist camp came in shortly thereafter, on some beautifully smoth and bouncy tundra (the last such tundra we would see unfortunately).

Day 2 began with rain, a cold rain that was seemingly coming from the north (i thought we would be too far away, but you can really tell when the weather is coming from the north off the summer sea ice). In the rain, i had the opportunity to test our new tent's featured capability for this trip, the ability to pack everything up dry under the canopy, then collapse the main tent at the very end, and it worked exactly as planned. Admittedly i was a bit nervous about the coming day, in theory we would have about 10 miles of mandatory continuous CL3 whitewater, the most challenging we antiucipated seeing on the entire trip. Before long, our smooth, winding, and beautifully clear river (with some amazing looking arctic char gliding about below us) came to an abrupt end. The river broadened, becoming 2-3 times wider than it had been, and became much steeper and rocky, as expected. The problem? there was not enough water. What we had anticipated to be a somewhat slow and difficult hard strech of whitewater was in reality an even slower strech of walking in the river basin, we often did not have enough water to float. This was all to familiar to lindsay and i, as we had spent days walking through upper champion creek in similar conditions last year. It is almost mind numbing how slow and convoluted the walking can be, and to go with our moods, we had nothing but grey skies.

Our saving grace came in the form of a saphire blue stream coming in from the right just as the skies started to clear (kollutarak creek), doubling the volume of the river and enabling us with the ability to start flying though the miles and soak in the stunning scenery with glowing smiles on our faces. Unfortunately, with the delay due to the slow miles and the tenor of the group, we did not end up stopping for a side hike to explore the mountains as i had hoped. This decision was likely a good thing in the end as we still had many miles to go, including many miles to navigate going up and over the mountains on foot. 

To finish out the day, we re-entered the forest, once again far south enough for trees to grow, and pulled over to camp on a nice river bench (maybe my favorite of the trip). One interesting surprise was the presence of many familiar faces- sage pine and birch/aspen, just like back at home, although distinctly different and uniquely adapted to the climate this far north.