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.
