Have a good trip, son.
— my dad
My dad said those words, sitting on a lawn chair with his long-time friend, in front of an open door garage. We had both been to Gates of the Arctic before; on a nine-day rafting trip down the Johns River. It was our first taste of arctic wilderness. And we talked about returning ever since.
The Beginning
Day 1: I booked a rather impromptu trip to Alaska for mid-October, contemplating a return to Glacier National Park in Northwestern Montana. After seeing a window of unusually good weather near Anaktuvuk Pass, I pulled the trigger. I landed in Fairbanks around 0100 Alaska time on 10/11 and spent the night on a bench with my gear. I rented a car to pickup food from the local Walmart before catching my 1100 flight from Fairbanks to Anakatuvuk Pass.
After tipping the pilot (a custom I learned from my last Alaska bush pilot, Kurt), I headed over to the local police station to drop off my rifle case and hit the road. My aim was to reach Chandler Lake and return to Anakatuvuk Pass in six-and-a-half days. The local officer expressed serious doubt in the guy-from-Miami’s plan, thinking it would be extremely unlikely in such a short space of time. I made sure to leave behind any cooking fuel, all electronics (except for my rented sat phone – thanks mom), and all other unnecessary items to help reduce my pack to about 80 lbs. water included. I relied on my National Geographic park-wide map for navigation, never needing a compass with ample landmarks around me.
I left Anaktuvuk Pass around 1630 on 10/11 on the west side of town, taking an ATV trail the locals use for reaching their hunting grounds. I took the trail South-Southwest, hugging the mountain sides on the west side of the rugged, tree-less valley. I spent the night half way down the trail near a stream and continued on my way the next morning. I left the trail and hiked alongside the peninsular mountain and followed Kollutarak Creek westward, into the valley that would lead me to Chandler Lake. Note, an inaccuracy in the trail map: my first day ended about half-way down the red trail, just north of the center bend.
Heading West
Day 2: I moved along, hugging the mountains’ sides. There are three large streams (~20+ ft in width) flowing into Kollutarak I would need to cross before reaching a pond that marked the half-way mark of the valley leading to Chandler Lake. This day was spent predominately familiarizing myself with traversing the Alaskan arctic mountain terrain. I would eventually learn that hiking deep in the valley leads to energy sapping wetlands where a hiker will sink mid-calf. Conversely, hiking too high (which I learned soon enough) leads to climbing up and down steep, large gorges, consuming valuable time. There is a sweet middle ground that I recognized by roughly day three. The open landscape affected my concept of distance, accustomed to flat lands with trees and building for references. I set up camp about a quarter of a mile east of the second major stream.
Beneath Inuluarak
Day 3: I crossed the second of three major streams after breakfast. While trekking, I aimed for land with little brush, rocky terrain ideally with short, grass-like berry plants. In desiring to hike over hard, open alpine land and forgo the brush and wetland-infested ground of the lower elevation, I trekked higher and higher up the side of the mountains. I was eventually roughly a third of the way up the mountainside and began hitting deep gorges. The second and last gorge I crossed was steep and involved about three hours of scrambling with my pack. After settling on a ridge overlooking the gorge, I decided to summit the mountain.
I left my rucksack behind and made my way up to awesome views of Kollutarak Creek and the hidden mountain valleys to the north. The landscape was barren, devoid of animal and plant life, home only to stone, water, and ice. The glacial waters of Nunamuit Mountain to my north filled the two lonely streams in this valley. The peak gave me a better glimpse of the westward passage towards Chandler Lake. This climb was pleasant, rarely exceeding Class III. I continued on, crossing the third and final major creek before the pond.
I hiked over a few short hills (they reminded me of Iron-Age fort mounds) that dotted the lower valley as I moved towards the distant pond. As I approached it, I realized that given my pace, I would be running a tight schedule if I proceeded on my journey to Chandler Lake. Not wanting to miss flights back home and encouraged by a sudden longing to see the Northern Slope, I decided to make my way back. I turned around after passing the pond some distance and set up camp on a ridge above the third major creek. It rained that evening and continued into the next day.
New Plans
Day 4: I made great progress this day, now familiar with how to best traverse this terrain. A dense fog couple filled the valley in the morning and rolled high into the mountains. I caught a double rainbow only tens of feet from me in the valley during the light rain around mid-day. I made my way back eastward to the peninsular mountain north of the Kollutarak Creek and Johns River meeting. I camped on a moon-like landscape near a wolverine den.
Going North
Day 5: I took the ATV trail back to Anaktuvuk Pass. There I spoke with local Nunamiut children at a camp. They were interested in my rifle and my travels. They taught me words in their dialect of Inupiaq, Nunamiut: Tuktu meaning caribou and Nanook being polar bear. After a couple hours, I proceeded with my journey northward to the Northern Slope. I moved through town and spent the night south of Kongumavik Creek. I awoke in the dead of night to see bright lights in the northeast sky and the howling of a dozen wolves in the valley east across the Anaktuvuk River. Nearby, down the slope were small shelters, half in a ruinous state.
The Northern Slope
Day 6: Moving northward, I attempted to take a higher elevation approach to the mountain. The ground was difficult to hike, consisting of an uneven surface or rocks, ankle to calf-deep water, and basketball-sized and shaped vegetation that would roll under you if walked on. I reached a large scree and considered climbing the mountain side. I decided on continuing, wanting to be near the ground to feel the Northern Slope’s expanse. I eventually found an ATV trail and took that northward.
Small streams flowed across the valley plain, intersecting the trail and carving pools up to and exceeding four feet deep. I realized why the locals use amphibious ATVs as I jumped over deep pools of water and trudged through the mud, constantly rotating between socks hanging on my pack, drying in the cool, humid, cloudy day, and the soggy socks around my feet. The Salomon Quest 4 boots I used became terribly painful at this point as they cut into my Achilles Tendon with every step. The Achilles section of the boot is poorly designed (ie. too aggressive) for long distance treks, especially under load.
Finally, after crossing a smooth hill and overlooking the southern shores of Makaktuk Lake, I gazed over the Northern Slope. This was the most dramatic point in the trip; the protection of the surrounding mountains gave way to the flat plains of the Arctic. Small lonely mountains and canyons dotted the horizon in an otherwise featureless expanse.
I changed directions and returned to the previous nights camping spot; arriving well after sunset. I saw a mother caribou and her calf grazing in the lower valley. Later on, my hike back was hastened by the call of wolves that I guessed in the night’s darkness to be within a mile radius.
Return to Anaktuvuk
Day 7: I returned to Anakatuvuk after finishing my accompanying (and favorite) book, The Hobbit, that morning. I helped myself to a few plates of hot food at the town’s grill. I picked a camping spot in some shrubs north of the town off Contact Creek and relaxed with a full stomach and a good book (I began reading Much Ado About Nothing).
Day 8: I donated the rest of my food (mainly packaged tuna and salmon) to a rather nice village elder and his daughter before picking up my rifle case from John, the town police officer. I hung out with John for sometime, before catching my flight back to Fairbanks and making my way home to Miami over the next 28 hours.
Take A Hike 