Hiking 17 Days in The Alaskan Wilderness - Part 1

After a long walk out of Anatovic Pass down what seemed to be a road to nowhere, we reached our staging point to begin the first section of our trip down the John River. We were strangely quiet as we unpacked our gear to set up our rafts. All morning there seemed to be an unsettling mute nervousness between the three of us, contemplating what lie ahead. True wilderness for 400 miles. Spring oil? Yep. I shipped some ahead too. Sweet. It's funny the denatured alcohol in the stores says fuel. It's just called fuel. Fuel? Uh-huh. Fuel. It is the morning of departure, I guess, for the Brooks Range. So after a couple days hanging out here in Fairbanks, getting some rest, trying to heal up from the sinus infection. Big gnarly cold sore. We're about to head off to the airport and take about an hour and a half flight up to Anatovic Pass to start our big venture. So I think we're all still kind of groggy this morning and our packs look like this. It's going to be an interesting one, to say the least. Yeah, there's no room back there. Our first taste of rafting in the Brooks Range begins easy enough and we act as a team calling out rock or go left to avoid shallow waters and scraping of the boats as we paddle through our first real rapids. Rock! How cute. The river eventually slows down for a good 10 mile section and we start questioning how we'll manage to meet our goal of 37 river miles for the day. How cute. All of a sudden, the John shows us how spicy it can actually get. Rapids start to accelerate and controlling the boat becomes more difficult so we start pulling over on beaches to scout our routes. Yeah, let's look at that as well. All right, far, far right. Just barely to the left of that one poking up, just barely. Yeah, it looks like it stays fine out right. All right. The spiciness continues for hours with no signs of letting up. Hitting holes and rocks and crashing rapids, holding on to keep the boat upright. That was fun. We get lost in the excitement and before we know it, it's almost 11 p.m. Exhausted and we search for a decent beach to camp on for almost an hour and eventually call it a McDo. We set up camp, eat dinner, and attempt to get a sunny night's sleep. Good morning. So we got into camp pretty late last night, 11 p.m. I think. We ended up doing like 32 miles on the river. Wasn't the plan, but we had some snafus at the end of the day. One, we couldn't find a spot to camp because the banks of the river were a little too steep and brushy. Two, AJ fell in, got caught up under a tree, and then I fell in while trying to stop at a bank to make camp. And then, kind of a domino effect of things. Regardless, we ended up paddling down the river longer after that, after I got out of the water and we kind of figured everything out, and we finally landed on this spot here on a little beach. So I think we only have like maybe 10 or less miles of the river left of the john and then later on today we'll be getting off the river and starting our hike. So it should make for an interesting day. After finishing the last bit of the john, we exit at the confluence of North Fork, take a break, pack up, and set out. Hiking up a riverbed should be a nice and easy start to the first day on foot, right? The miles go slow. Quicksand, bushwhacking, river crossing after river crossing. We keep having trouble crossing the high river, schwacking back and forth testing if we can forward, but ultimately decide that we can only cross by boat. We quickly go from ahead of schedule to behind as we lose time with each of these little micro-adventures. As we approach the next crux of going over our first pass, we realize that gaining the initial climb is damn near going to kill us after the day that we've had. We make a last minute decision at the base of the climb to stay another night on the river. We may camp early-ish, clean up, eat dinner, and attempt to fall asleep to the sun again. Finally at the end of day two and uh what a day it was. Not only was it tough doing like a bunch of different river crossings on foot because we're kind of going down this fork, but also the sun has been blaring all day long and it's uh still blaring and it's 11 p.m. As you can see it's uh not letting up anytime soon. So um decided to cut our day a little short today. We had about two more miles to make our goal, kind of four miles for the day, but um we had this real big climb and up on a pass that we're kind of headed towards, so we decided to pull the plug early today, stop for camp. We set up, ate dinner, actually was able to wash myself off in the river which was really nice, and uh yeah now it's just trying to get some sleep with it still blaring. Hopefully the sun will go down around some of these mountains sometime soon. I'm currently sweating inside of my tent. I feel like I'm going to get sunburnt laying here. So Alaska man never sleeps. So hopefully tomorrow will be a good day. Um we will be completely off the river. We'll have no river miles, so should be interesting. Basically have a full day of hiking ahead of us, so hopefully I can get some sleep. Night. I slept like dog ---- last night. This river, I'm just, I'm over it. I'm ready to get away from it. Just kept me up all night last night. Yesterday I drank a bunch of caffeine too when I had my dinner, and um kind of expecting that we were going to go up and over this pass. I'm glad that we didn't, but it also means that I just had like anxiety trying to go to sleep. Basically didn't really fall asleep until sometime around two or so. Well, gotta keep moving. It's way steeper than it looks. The day begins as an absolute ass kicker. A monster climb through thick tussocks that seem to never end. Eventually, after hours of climbing, we reach a ridge. It should be easier hiking now, right? As we traverse down and up and down and up each section of the ridge, we keep telling ourselves that the next stretch has got to get a little easier, yet it continues to get harder. Way down. Yeah. Another day where we think that we're gonna crush miles, yet we continue to be held back by the terrain. The Brooks Range seems to be testing us, giving us all it's got. My feet burn, my knees ache, and my skin feels burnt to a crisp. I try to tune it out and let my mind go blank, trying to convince myself that day three has got to be the crux and it'll get easier from here, right? Eventually, we start our long descent down to a creek. What the hell time is it anyways? How are you feeling? Well, it's past eight now, and we got started around ten, and we've come eight miles. That's pretty good. That's all I have to say about that. That's really all I gotta ******* say. That is the craziest terrain I have ever been in, in my entire life. By far. By far. Tough going. Tough day. It's a hard eight miles. Uh, we're still gonna try. One of the hardest I've ever had. Hardest eight. It's just those tussocks. It's the terrain. It's not the elevation. It's the terrain. Well, that and the sun that never goes away, ever. The sun that never sleeps, Alaska. Oh, it's cute. It's cute and terrible at the same time. ------- bakes your brain. That's what they're saying is we're having a great time. Great time. Just a great time. We might have to float it. After taking a quick break, we're ready for the next gauntlet of our seemingly never-ending day. We attempt to cross a creek by foot, testing to see how deep the water is, and eventually decide the only safe is to cross by boat. Smooth. So we finally got across, and now it's past nine. Yep, we're gonna hike until, I don't know, we're gonna hike until. Y'all said you wanted it to be harder, right? I finally feel like I'm in my element. Boulder hopping and creek crossing our way up a small icy canyon until eventually it levels out. We are all wiped from the big day as it gets close to 11 p.m. again, and we start to search for camp. It's gonna be another challenging night of sleep set up on wet, lumpy tussocks. What a day. Good morning. Long ass day yesterday. We got started at like 10, 10 30. Stopped at 11, 11 30. Sitting here next to a kind of our last creek, I guess, for a little bit. Had to follow the creek up last night, which is pretty intense. Actually walking in the creek for quite some time, and the plan was to actually go a little bit further, but we were all wiped by the time we got here. So came up here on the side of the hill, made this spot work, and passed out. So today should be kind of the quote-unquote last hard day for a while. Basically we got to finish going up this creek, and then we're going to be going up and over bigger mountains again, kind of like yesterday. Not as bad, but still pretty big, and hopefully we'll be able to get down into some valleys and be able to cruise a little bit more. Cruise in a very loose turn. Still going to go slow, I think, but won't have as many obstacles, I guess. Yesterday definitely felt like a a gauntlet of how much Alaska could possibly throw at us. Just ass kicking after ass kicking after ass kicking all day long, all the way up to this point. So there was not a time yesterday where there wasn't ass kicking. Alaska baby. Maybe it was just the heat and then slamming a bunch of food and stuff. I don't know. Big day. We're only two miles in. River walking is for the birds. Two miles and 2.17. A little 2.17 and a little under two hours. We're crushing it. That's what I'm trying to say. We finally reach another river at the base of our next monster climb and decide to take a break on the beach before tackling it completely wiped out. Eventually, after a couple hours of climbing and forgetting to get out the camera to film, we reach the top. Just got to the top of the second big ridge for this gear expedition. Big push from the river and now hopefully we're gonna ride this ridge for a while. Still got some big climbs on it, but the spot's definitely a willer. It's pretty up here and a nice breeze. Today, for the first time at this spot, it actually feels rewarding. If not just for a few minutes, the three of us sit to really take in the view. Souvenir. After we traverse a long ridge, we make a quick yet sketchy descent down the other side of the mountain chain and end our day at a wide creek. We set up camp on the shore around 11 p.m. and sit down to finally eat and discuss what the next day will bring. I'm even more wiped out than the day before. That being said, my body doesn't even know what day it is. Four consecutive 12 plus hour days. Bed by 1 a.m. every night and the damn sun never going down. I feel like I'm in some sort of weird lucid dream. Not one of us has had more than six hours of sleep in a 24-hour day. Being behind on miles and worried that we're gonna run out of food before we can even reach our first resupply, we decide to get up early the next morning. Make as many miles as we possibly can. Tomorrow is going to be easier, right?