Wilderness Camp – but What Is Wilderness?

Wilderness Camp
Denali National Park, 6/7/17

We procured a backcountry permit at the park office, took a shuttle bus a ways into the park, debarked and backpacked into the landscape in this photo to spend a couple of nights. The only sign of people we came across was a plastic lens cap from a camera – something accidentally lost, not littered. Caribou and Dall Sheep, Wolf prints and Wolverine tracks… A Grizzly Bear caused us to change our course… Short-eared Owls cruising low, nesting Willow Ptarmigan hens – the males waking us at first light with their call of Potato! Potato! Potato. Tree Sparrows flushing from tiny ground nests where clutches of blue-green & brown eggs were crowded together. We came across Caribou antler sheds; a moose rack attached to a skull suggested a successful hunt by wolves. In 1846, Thoreau needed only to travel from Concord, Massachusetts to Maine’s Mt. Katahdin* to immerse in the vital contact with wilderness he sought. During the 2022-2023 season, 105,000 tourists traveled to Antarctica – up from just 5,000 only a few years prior… which was up from somewhere near zero not so long before that. Even Alaska’s remote, far-north rivers are typically floated by multiple parties each year. Not long ago I came across a recent piece of video depicting an unimproved campsite I overnighted at on youthful floats down my native Clarion River. The site was seldom used in those days, nearly pristine, and you could nice-sized large trout in the pool and the riffle water that flowed by. The contemporary video showed trampled vegetation, fire pit scars, bags of trash…

There are no doubt as many definitions of wilderness as there are human expectations of what might be present or absent in such a place. The one certainty is that wilderness is becoming more difficult to find, to immerse in, to discover and explore. My recollection of reading Thoreau’s account of his attempt to ascend Katahdin is that at some point the climb (or was it the descent?) was terrifying. Perhaps therein lies a piece of what wilderness means… a place cut off from civilization, where things could go wrong, and if they do, you’re on your own. There’s something liberating in it.

*Thoreau’s account of his journey to Mt. Katahdin can be found in his book The Maine Woods.

Loafin’

Close-up portrait of a Sea Otter loafing in the harbor at Seward, Alaska.
Loafin’ Sometimes Sea Otters hanging around in harbors become quite accustomed to humans. For this photograph, I got down on my belly and lowered my arms and camera over the side of a dock. Unable to look into the view finder, I let the camera’s autofocus do its job. They’re awfully cute. Seward Harbor, Alaska, 6/25/13

On A Frozen Sea

Sphere and Pyramid
The Chukchi Sea, April 21, 2012

In late winter and early spring, our Inupiat friends in Point Hope began talking about “breaking trail” across the frozen Chukchi Sea so that snow machines (snow mobiles) and hondas (ATVs) could be driven out to leads (open lanes in the ice) in order to set up whaling camps. “Breaking trail?” Informed by our experiences with freshwater lakes, we wondered, “Can’t you just drive out across a smooth blanket of ice?”

Well, as we learned, a frozen sea isn’t like that. As ice forms and expands and is pushed around by winds and currents, sheets separate (creating leads) and later are pushed together again, the resulting pressure ridges can heave up massive jumbles of jigsaw ice. Some of the chunks are as large as a garage. This was all new to us the first time we hiked out to a camp. In the above photo our eyes are drawn to an otherworldly sphere and pyramid lit blue in pre-dawn light.

Rothko Sunrise, Point Hope

Sunrise, Sunset – Point Hope, Alaska November 19, 2011

One hundred twenty-five miles north of the Arctic Circle, on this date there still remained four hours and three minutes of daylight in Point Hope’s sky. This late in the year the Chukchi Sea was blanketed in ice, the sun barely ascending above the horizon. From November 18 to 19, nine minutes and 52 seconds of daylight were lost. The following day, ten minutes were lost – an additional eight seconds. The next day, 10 more seconds of light disappeared. And so it continued, darkness gathering momentum toward December 6 when the sun vanished, leaving only a glow on the horizon. The sun remained down for 30 days until January 6 when it peeked above the frozen sea at 2:03 PM and remained barely visible for 19 minutes and 20 seconds.

I first encountered art in the style of Mark Rothko’s colorfield paintings (a painting by an art student at the local college) in my teens. Like many others, I was fascinated by the juxtaposition of colors. I would shoot this scene differently now… but will most likely never get the opportunity. Happy to have been there, seen it, and come away with this photograph despite its imperfections.

At First Sight…

Portrait of a mated pair of Sandhill Cranes facing each other in a field of flowers somewhere along the Alaska-Canada Highway... a Valentine's Card, #love.
At First Sight… We came upon this pair of Sandhill Cranes somewhere along the Al-Can – the Alaska-Canada Highway – on a drive north to Alaska. I’m always reminded of my first date with Barbra… the pink jeans she wore. I like the way the male crane’s beak is hanging open… a proper response.
Happy Valentine’s Day – for all you love
July 20, 2012

Superb Owl Sunday!

Boreal OwlDenali National Park, June 6, 2017

I’ve gone around knocking on hollow trees most of my adult life, hoping a flying squirrel or owl would pop it’s head out. And then one day, it happened!

First and Ten: Bison Along the Al-Can Highway

First and Ten – there are several places along the Alaska-Canada highway where Bison are likely to be encountered. Things can get heated! By the time this multi-bull fight was over, there were tufts of hair on the road and a wet patch of blood on one of the bull’s flanks.

Water Pump: The Alaska-Canada Highway

Water Pump, British Columbia, 7/9/12

We’ve made the drive up or down the Alaska-Canada Highway (The Al-Can) six times along various routes. At times, it can seem like a journey into the past, especially once you get north of the U.S. border. Wildlife viewing can be astonishing. On one trip we counted over 30 bears. Owls and other birds of prey, elk, deer, moose, coyotes, foxes, both grizzly and black bears (sometimes with cubs) and bison are all likely encounters, and although we’ve never seen wolves, we’ve heard their wild howls from our camp. There’s good fishing, too, if you’ve got the time and can suss it out. More unusual are the old-fashioned gas pumps you might still encounter – the kind with the glass bubble on top. And once you clear Vancouver, everything slows down. People have time to talk, and are happy to do so. Campgrounds are spare but well-maintained, and there are plenty of places where you can simply pull over and spend the night. From late spring through mid-summer, the further north you travel the longer the days become till by the time you reach Alaska nighttime has all but disappeared.

Go. If you’ve never made the drive, set aside the time, make a budget and go. The Al-can is surely one of the world’s greatest behind-the-wheel adventures.

Seward Summers: Riding the Denali Express

The Denali Express somewhere between Seward and Anchorage. Hands free travel through a big scoop of Alaska’s iconic scenery. Well, hands free till they’re occupied with a Margarita and a halibut sandwich.

Seward Summers: Sea Shower

Humpback Whale descending on a deep dive, Gulf of Alaska, 7/22/12