As I sat cuddled into the blankets on my couch, my phone buzzed with a text that read, “They’re ready to fly us now”. It seemed like I barely had time to think before I was sitting strapped into a Cessna 206, flying up and over Kotzebue. It was the first time I was leaving town since I moved here in March to start my job as an Interpretive Park Ranger.
We flew down the coastline of Cape Krusenstern National Monument where we spotted muskox from the air, my first muskox sighting. A few of them were running, with their dense coats flowing in the wind. We began to head east towards Noatak National Preserve, and ultimately our destination along the Kelly River.
I spotted a bear from the plane window. It was walking around a pond. I suddenly realized I was leaving the comfort of my own home to experience the home of others, some of them being bears.
The pilot pointed out landmarks to help distinguish where we were. Slowly I began to piece the puzzle together. The words and names that have had no map in my mind were being put into real context as we flew past villages, mountains, and rivers.
Soon enough we had our feet on the ground, throwing our gear out onto a gravel bar tucked between the mountain ranges on either side. We had made it into Noatak National Preserve and in front of us, the Kelly River.
Just over an hour ago I was sitting on my couch, waiting for this moment, and here it was. The sky was blue except for an occasional puffy, white cloud. I was thankful to have an interruption from the fog and rain. For the next hour or so, we got our rafts loaded with our gear. Once everything was strapped onto our rafts, they were ready to roll.
Though I’ve kayaked and I’ve gone rafting, there was a sinking moment where I realized I had never been in a single person raft before. Would the raft and I jive well? I was about to find out.
The first evening was a grueling personal lesson in balances. I needed to remember to work with the water, looking for channels that would keep me moving when the river became too thin, resulting in a bumpy ride for my bum along the rocks.
After paddling for some time, we pulled over in a spot that looked good to fish. In the National Preserve, fishing is permitted when following Alaska state regulations. We caught a grayling and char, which was a happy realization that we had landed ourselves dinner.
The night was peaceful and the clouds gave the mountains such depth. I was cooking mashed potatoes on the stove while Ranger Jim fileted fish. As I was enjoying the scene, I noticed a brown blob moving beyond Jim’s head, across the river. I recognized that brown blob. Having spent a number of years spotting animals in the Alaskan wilderness, I realized it was a brown bear.
“Uh, Jim. There is a bear behind you.” It was still a ways off and Jim’s demeanor was calm, most certainly calmer than my own. After speaking a bit more loudly, the bear noticed us, took a look, and scampered away.
“Sweet!” I thought to myself, “What a great bear viewing.” That thought stuck with me until, 45 minutes later, I noticed another bear, down river this time. I also noticed the bear’s odd behavior.
This bear was running erratically back and forth along the riverbed. Next thing I knew the bear was making haste up the river, towards us. Had it smelled our fish dinner? I wasn’t sure. All I could be sure of was its pace was set to meet us. I watched it as it ran so easily across the same river that had given me trouble on my raft. I watched it shake the water off, like a dog after it’s been in the rain too long. As it was approaching, we talked to the bear, alerting it of our presence, but apparently the scent was too tempting. It continued through some brush, where I lost sight of it for the moment.
Suddenly, the bear popped up from the side of the riverbank! I had my bear spray in hand and Jim stood on the right of me also preparing himself for unknown actions by the bear. All three of us stood staring at one another, wondering whose move it was next. I imagine the scene might appear humorous as it felt that all of us kind of spooked one another. To our delight, the bear took off running in the opposite direction, huffing along the way.
I didn’t know if I should smile or break down. This was my first night in the backcountry of Noatak National Preserve.
What in the world would the next three days have to offer and how would I ever be able to sleep tonight?____________________________________________________________________________
As Tuesday morning arrived, I could hear the pitter-patter of rain drops on my tent. The rain had found us once again. I poked my head out of the door to find that fog had filled the valley. The mountains were no longer visible, and the day looked like it would be a wet one.
I was happy to find that there were no fresh bear tracks near our camp and that my mostly restful sleep was well deserved.
Though it was a rainy paddle, the scenery was unbelievable. The trees had personalities of their own, bending this way and that way. Some bent over the channels of the river, making them difficult obstacles as the water liked to get swift right where their boughs breached the surface.
There were times when we had to drag our rafts past shallow spots or tree limbs, but otherwise the ride was gratifying.
At one point we stopped to cast out along a perfect little fishing hole lined with trees that had given way to erosion along the bank. As I set out to do some exploring along the gravel bar, Ranger Jim began fishing. I was looking for animal tracks, one of my favorite things to do when I go out camping. I found the normal bear tracks that had become a familiar sight along the Kelly River, but this time I also found tracks I hadn’t yet seen on this trip. Wolf tracks! I was so excited to find them and ponder the number of individuals that might have been in this pack. Through my excitement I had peeked over and noticed Jim was working on some excitement of his own. When I walked back to the bank he had pulled in a nice sized Arctic Char. We let that one go and continued on our way.
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Over the course of the next couple of days we continued this routine of rainy paddles on the river, setting up camp at night, eating dinner, and then bedtime. Though the routine is simple, there are many lessons learned. Anything can change in a moment’s notice and the backcountry of Alaska is no place to find yourself unprepared.
You find yourself thinking about what you would do in emergency situations. What would you do if the weather turned for the worst and you couldn’t fly out? There are simple answers, like preparing with extra food if you can’t be picked up by a plane. Then there are more complicated answers, like making sure you have medical supplies and multiple forms of communication, especially ones that will work in remote wilderness.
Jim is a Law Enforcement ranger and patrols such as this one help to get him out into the parks in order to have eyes on the ground and to make visitor contacts. I was lucky enough to be able to go out with him to experience not only one of the National Park Units of Western Arctic National Parklands, but to see what a river patrol looks like. It helps rangers to be able to learn the rivers, which are often used not just by guests who fly in, but by locals as a regular route of transportation. In a landscape that is constantly changing, it’s important to know how to navigate these changes and be able to respond to them in a meaningful way.
For myself, this trip became memorable not only due to the skills gained, but thanks to the interaction with the bear, the ability to pull dinner right out of a river, setting up camp next to wolf tracks, hearing a porcupine make the silliest noises, observing bald eagles soaring overhead, enjoying late sunsets with the midnight sun, sleeping in a tent, and being connected with the raw emotions one feels when in nature.
Our National Parks provide many opportunities, including the preservation of all the things named above. Here in Western Arctic National Parklands they also protect the ability for people to continue living off this land, just as they always have. I’d say my first experience of these Arctic parks was a complete success. I can’t wait to go back.
