Arctic Wild

The north wind is blowing here today. It feels like the last of winter moving out, making room for spring and all of its mossy green moisture and bird chatter. We are heading up to the Brooks Range earlier than usual this year. We are supporting a film project in Cape Krusenstern in mid-April and later in the month Michael will be guiding the Winter Snowshoe Adventure in Gates of the Arctic National Park.

This photo was taken last week near the Nadahini River in British Columbia, just an hour north of Haines. It looks a lot like the Brooks Range in spring, a special time of subtle change and brilliantly sparkling snow.

By Sally Andersen

Ron Yarnell started guiding in the Brooks Range before Gates of the Arctic National Park was created, before the Dalton Highway (Haul Road) was built, and long before anyone outside of Alaska’s arctic-slope had even heard of places like the Kongakut. We are privileged to have Ron as one of our lead guides and his 40 plus years of guiding experience are a huge asset to Arctic Wild.

Though I have been guiding in northern Alaska for 15 years now and have endeavored to travel the Brooks Range widely, there are still huge swaths of land I have never hiked, boated or even flown over. Fortunately whenever I have a question for a new trip, Ron is available to fill in the blank spot on the map for me with vivid anecdotes from his vast experience. Whether his story is about camping near what is now the Prudhoe Bay oil field, or how the Nigu River once rose 6 feet overnight forcing them to relocate camp, Ron’s stories are rich with love for and knowledge of arctic Alaska.

Ron’s tenure as a guide is long enough and his impact on his guests deep enough that we are now seeing “second generation” clients signing up with Ron. Several people who were under ten when they first went on a trip with Ron are now returning as adults to enjoy another wilderness trip with Ron as their guide.

Ron recently told me he didn’t want to guide quite so much anymore and I feared he was slowing down or not feeling so young. Not a chance! He is simply planning more personal trips in the Brooks Range and wants to leave time for exploring the wilderness on his own. I expect Ron’s enthusiasm for wilderness will keep him hiking, boating, and skiing in the Arctic for decades to come.

If you are eager to travel with Ron this summer he will be guiding our National Parks Explorer trip July 27 – 31 and our Wind River Rafting trip September 1 – 9. With Ron there are always plenty of great stories around the fire.

By Michael Wald

It seems like more and more often people have been emailing or calling and prefacing their inquiry about a trip with “you know I’m in my late 60s…” or “I’d love to join your trip but I’m 78 years old..” Obviously wilderness travel is not for everyone and I want to be clear with people about both the joys and the travails of camping in remote Alaska. But most of the time I find that if someone is excited about the idea of sleeping in a tent for 10 days, they are going to be just fine on one of our trips. When people call with such inquiries, I try to explain the challenges of our trips, I listen to their concerns, medical and otherwise and I generally let them decide for themselves and/or with their doctor if the trip, hardships and all, is going to be fun for them.

I am reminded of the Chinese proverb that, “the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The next best time is today.” One of our clients, a 79-year old who has just signed up for his fourth trip with us is regretful that he didn’t start coming earlier. He writes in an article he published about his trip on the Noatak River, “For myself, I had mused about heading up to the Brooks Range for about 40 years…’if I don’t go now,’ I often said to myself, ‘I’ll never go.’ When I finally arrived in the Brooks Range, I realized I should have made that decision and pursued that course of action years ago. I had waited far too long.” Well, he is doing his best to make up for lost time, following the spirit of  this poem from my favorite poet, Mary Oliver.

GREEN, GREEN IS MY SISTER’S HOUSE

Don’t you dare climb that tree

or even try, they said, or you will be

sent away to the hospital of the

very foolish, if not the other one.

And I suppose, considering my age,

it was fair advice.

But the tree is a sister to me, she

lives alone in a green cottage

high in the air and I knew what

would happen, she’d clap her green hands,

she’d shake her green hair, she’d

welcome me. Truly

I try to be good but sometimes

a person just has to break out and

act like the wild springy thing

one used to be. Its impossible not

to remember wild and want it back. So

if someday you can’t find me you might

look into that tree or- of course

it’s possible- under it”

Mary Oliver from A Thousand Mornings

Michael and Bill, both serving as guides this January on a Cheeseman’s Ecology Safari cruise in Antarctica, have crossed the Drake Passage and arrived on the Antarctic Peninsula. Communication is spotty, so I can only guess that their days are filled with gauging the weather and watching penguins and leopard seals.

I am managing the Arctic Wild telephone so there is no need to wait to telephone, or if you’d like to email me directly, you can do so at sally@arcticwild.com. Trips are filling early this year. The Hulahula River in June and the Aleutian Hot Springs Adventure will likely be the next to fill, along with Bears of the Katmai Coast in early July. I am eager for summer in the Brooks Range, dreaming of that golden light…

Photo by Cameron R Baird 

There is nothing like a late December cold snap when the thermometer bottoms-out and even the sun is too cold to rise. Today is the solstice, when we turn towards the warming sun,  but in places like Fort Yukon where the temperature is currently -53 F, the longer days won’t bring respite for several months.

The coldest temperature I’ve ever seen was one New Years Eve when we walked to a friends house for a party. There was no way we wanted to start up our vehicles in those temperatures, so we bundled up and started walking the couple miles of empty roads. As you may know, cold air sinks to the lowest areas and as chance would have it, the party was at the bottom of a hill. As we descended we could feel it getting colder bit by bit, but we were dressed appropriately and pressed on. “How cold can it be?” we said. When we got right down near the creek, the cold cut through even our thickest clothes and I remember feeling like there was an anvil pressing down on top of my head. The double mitts, triple parka and super insulated pants were no match for this kind of cold, so we hustled the last bit and burst into our friends home covered in frost and very glad to have a made it.

Larry was much surprised to see the only guests at his party and we were all shocked to see that his thermometer was no longer registering at all. Minus 60 was as low as his thermometer would go! Since we had come all that way, we had a grand party and sauna. Funny thing was that as we gained the hill on our way home, the -40 something temperatures on the hill tops felt almost warm.

By Michael Wald Co-owner and guide.