I’ve always wondered why my husband Dan loves guiding for Arctic Wild. Every year since I’ve known him, he usually disappears for a few weeks in Alaska, returning sunburned, disheveled, yet also happy and more ‘centered’.

This year I had the opportunity to travel with him, on a trip with 4 other people canoeing the Kokolik river.

The first time I truly realized this trip was special was when it took two bush plane pick-up and landings to get there and back. I could see thousands of caribou during the flights. I also saw herds of muskox and watched a grizzly bear chase something, stumble and somersault! Before I knew it, our pilot Dirk was landing the plane next to the Kokolik river. I climbed off, helped unload the baggage and watched the plane fly away, leaving us far from civilization.

Photos really don’t do this place justice. I really hadn’t appreciated how far and wide and north Alaska is. The terrain and wide skies are beautiful. Even the clouds seem bigger here. The scenery was inspiring. After we set up camp, I followed some muddy caribou tracks to the river and found a place to sit, beginning a short series of trip sketches.

During our trip, we rowed over 60 miles through some varied landscapes. Initially we’d hoped to see the migrating caribou. On the very first day we began encountering animals I didn’t even think I’d have a chance to see.

Over the duration of the trip, we saw thousands of caribou (some with babies), some very close. Also 3 grizzlies, a beautiful white/tan wolf, 3 wolverines (I think it was a female and her 2 young), herds of muskoxen, 2 foxes, loads of fat marmots and arctic squirrels. Terrific birding- we saw and heard many ptarmigan, sandpipers, plovers, gulls, ruddy turnstones, harlequin ducks, perigrine, gyrfalcons, rough-legged hawks, gold eagles, merlins, canada geese and more.

There were no real trees. Many bushes, but mostly grass and flowers– food for caribou. The wildflowers were stunning.

Almost every day we hiked, then canoed to new places to camp. The sun never set, it was bright all night,

much to everyone’s delight- especially for the birders in the group.

Dan, as the guide, did the cooking and coffee making for us. No lower-48 restaurant has the view we enjoyed every night! He also brought a scope, and pointed out other views for us to see. He was quite busy, and obviously enjoying himself. I couldn’t hog him all to myself. After dinner the group would sip cider, coffee or tea and talk about what we’d seen during the day. We had an fun group of people with lively discussions, especially regarding trying to identify the bird songs we heard.

How was the weather? A little bipolar. Some days, warm in the upper 60′s turning quickly to cool and stormy. Hail, thunderstorms and wind. Rainbows, double and triple rainbows, sunny blue skies. Extremely beautiful clouds, stormclouds or white fluffy clouds.

You can hopefully see from my sketches the basic camp that was set up– a cook tent, washing area and another tent where we could huddle inside if it was raining. Everyone set up their personal tents far away from the cook tent, and from each other. I was fascinated by the skies and textures of the rocks, flowers and grasses.

Unfortunately, despite the long sunny days, the trip seemed to end quickly. We canoed down the river one last time, unloaded our gear and waited for the plane to return us to Fairbanks.

I’m glad I was able to take the trip, and feel fortunate to have seen the wild in the wild. Who knows how long this piece of country will remain as it is? One day I hope to bring my son, so he’ll be able to view this beauty for himself.

Hard working guide

Wolverine on the Utokok, by Josh Ferris

Lying in northwestern Alaska, the Utukok River twists 200 miles through sharply folded green hills with rocky ridges that stretched east and west in long rows – Archimedes Ridge, Meat Mountain, Eskimo Hill. Once you’re on a ridge the hiking is easy.

One night I turned from Richard and Sharon, saying I would take another route down and see them soon in camp, but instead of returning to camp, I decided to climb to the top of a nearby knoll for the view.  That knoll lead to a slightly higher knoll beyond, and then another.  I knew that I might never reach the summit, so I hiked faster and faster, trying to make the final peak that I felt was close.  But a moose cow and calf appeared in a ravine and scrambled to the top of the final knoll.  The cow and calf stood there framed in silhouette against the sun.  The cow approached the brow of a hillside and gauged the route of their escape.  The land fell sharply away in a steep decline.  I didn’t have the heart to push them on – they had come up here to take refuge from the mosquitoes that formed relentless clouds everywhere but on the windy hilltops.  I reluctantly turned back.  But with my goal abandoned, I turned to see that the low tundra and rocks were glowing in russet light.  Every blade of grass and flower stood out from deepening shadow.  I ran back down the hill feeling foolish and full of life, everything beat at once, and the world glowed.  Two figures emerged over the brow of a hill calling my name.  Long past midnight Richard and I sat talking in the cook tent, long enough to watch a wolverine scramble along the far bank in a roiling mass of fur and muscle, piss on a stump and hunt on again.

I filmed easy images of stupidity,  a group of caribou appeared, caribou and drums…what a cliché…but there it was…a reality right in front of me…and so I filmed the caribou as they walked among the barrels and then wandered off across the tundra…This was a larger group of caribou than we have been seeing, they moved across the tundra with determination, down the hill towards the river…heading some place they know and we do not…some place they know or sense or feel, some place we can only imagine…which lives in our imagination and gives meaning to this place…We continued across mud sucking tussocks to the second group of drums…I filmed and took photographs and then we headed back to camp walking across a field of wild flowers…white, yellow, pink, blue until we reached the dark flowing river. Just above the river we found the partially eaten remains of a caribou calf…a reminder of the darker rules which govern this place…Then we were into the boat…dark mud and melting ice lines the bank leading down to the dark water…We crossed back to camp, prepared dinner as the sky filled with fast changing clouds…silver light…yellow shafts of sunlight raked the hills…and then the sky opened up with high scattered clouds lit by the low angled light of the sun…Three caribou descend the hill above us and cross the river…they disappear into the glare of light to bright to see…They leave a lone caribou on the hill, who suddenly jumps and runs…We watch as two grey wolves lope across the tundra in the direction of the lone caribou…a story to imagine, with no details to tell…There is a cold wind, there are clearing skies…