Alsek – Day 12

Raft on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

I have to take a shit, badly. The problem is that the unit is full, not a little full, but within an inch of the top. It was suggested I could hover, but with my sciatica, I don’t trust my legs to keep me aloft in the required position, while the thought of falling on top of 35 pounds of other people’s poo doesn’t sound great either. I could have dug a hole yesterday when I first encountered the urge, but I thought that with my Catholic training, I’d be able to pinch it off. Now I’m straining to remain in control while Pauly waves goodbye, and we head for the exit while I silently beg for one.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on Alsek Lake in Alaska

I must look for my inner zen and be in the solemn moment of enjoying these last moments of our crazy adventure. This is such a spectacular landscape that is beyond any place I might have ever dreamt would be a place I’d get to visit in my lifetime. While Antarctica is certainly out of reach, with trips typically starting at around $20,000 per person, this journey down the Alsek has been within reach not just once but twice now. The faces in this photo have a deep appreciation for how lucky they are and find it almost hard to grasp that we muster the courage and save enough money to be able to have these experiences.

On the Alsek River in Alaska

Looking in the rearview mirror, Alaska will quickly fade from our sight and challenge us with the question that begs us, “Did we really do that?” but I hope these visual and written tidbits will always be fond reminders that before we became just “and” we were brave and adventurous.

On the Alsek River in Alaska

It’s hard moving away from this, and yet, by this time, I find I might enjoy hot water again or the simplicity of not having to set up and break down a tent and sleeping bag so often. The little inconveniences, though, are such a small price to pay in exchange for looking out at a mountain passage that is filled with glacial ice that’s been accumulating longer than humans have been on this continent.

On the Alsek River in Alaska

Looking back upriver, letting the enormity of the trip settle in and reflecting on the extraordinary weather that greeted this journey. We had some wind and minor drizzle, and now, here on our last day, it is as though the weather is saying, “Go home.”

Bald eagle along the Alsek River in Alaska

We’ve seen close to a dozen bald eagles in the trees and on the shore; there must be some kind of abundance of fish in these murky waters. We are now in heavily fished waters.

On the Alsek River in Alaska

Last look back just before pulling ashore.

Breaking down rafts on the Alsek River in Dry Bay, Alaska

Our take-out is near Dry Bay, Alaska. Here, we unpack the rafts, clean them for shipping back to Haines, and get ready for our short ride to the airstrip.

Pat Pellet of Barbazon Expeditions in Dry Bay, Alaska

This is Pat Pellett, who operates Brabazon Expeditions (should you want to go fishing, hunting, or hiking up this way). He’s here to transport our gear and us to the nearby airstrip for our bush plane flight as we start to move back towards civilization. We met Pat five years ago along with his dog; it feels kind of strange that this remote we’d meet someone we’ve encountered before.

Map of Dry Bay, Alaska

I was lucky to be the first of us to reach the airstrip with our gear in consideration of my situation. One poorly exercised fart at this point would have spelled massive doom. Regarding my outhouse encounter, it took a moment to let go as I’d forgotten to pee before entering this relatively basic facility. After 12 days of reinforcing the demand that we did not pee in the unit, it was awkward to let myself sit there and release. My next issue was cleaning up, as the brain was disconnecting from how things get done while essentially still in the wild. Where does the paper go in a remote outhouse? The big clear plastic bag seemed like an option, as there was no apparent place to burn the paper. I finally figured that it must simply go down the hold, and so with much guilt and uncertainty, I finished my business and sheepishly slunk away.

Sockeye salmon near Dry Bay, Alaska

Next to the airstrip is a slough where I spot my first wild sockeye salmon swimming by and then another and another.

Grizzly bear near Dry Bay, Alaska

Caroline joined me after the first group finally arrived at the airstrip, and I took her down the trail to the slough to show her the salmon when, off to our left, a grizzly bear was emerging from the treeline. As we spotted him, he spotted us, and he proceeded to sit down for a moment. Seeing he didn’t seem all that concerned with our presence and that we felt like we were a safe distance we all just waited patiently to see each other’s next move.

Grizzly bear near Dry Bay, Alaska

Lucky us, we didn’t need to start screaming to try to scare him off, as he simply got up and lumbered across the shallow waters, occasionally stopping to look for a salmon, but maybe he was just way too full because his effort was practically none. A perfect exclamation point to our adventure.

The plane from Yakutat Coastal Airlines

The plane from Yakutat Coastal Airlines is about to make its first of three flights to drag us and all of our gear out of there.

The slough near Dry Bay, Alaska

With the plane off to make its first delivery, we return to the slough and keep a lookout for grizzlies. With no more bears to be seen, we instead appreciate the beauty of the nearby mountains and the luscious green growth of summer.

Caroline Wise on the plane from Yakutat Coastal Airlines leaving Dry Bay, Alaska

Well, this is kind of meta; Caroline is wearing her Yakutat Coastal Airlines hat on a Yakutat Coastal Airlines flight helmed by Hans, who is not German but has a German name. Caroline picked up the hat last time we flew into Yakutat from Dry Bay.

Braided river in Alaska

The low-flying flight to Yakutat is incredibly beautiful, and if I had, but one wish while up here, it would be that the plane was a little lower and a lot slower.

Coastal Alaska

Snow on the mountains, rain on the horizon, lush green mosquito-infested lands with a snaking river cutting through it are just begging for us to put down somewhere out there and just get one more night of camping out in this landscape.

Coastal Alaska

In every direction, there’s half an expectation that as I gaze out on the horizon, I’ll spot a city out there, but again and again, there’s only more wilderness.

Coastal Alaska

The Pacific Ocean.

Coastal Alaska

Just look at all the mosquitos. Must be a trillion or more of them.

Coastal Alaska

Closing in on Yakutat, Alaska, below the clouds.

Flight from Yakutat to Anchorage, Alaska

After indulging in a junk food orgy of mussels, fried clams, french fries, and chicken wings, along with two amber ales for Caroline and three iced teas for me at Yakutat Jacks, we were soon boarding a small commercial jet. Minutes later, we were above the clouds going to Anchorage, Alaska.

Flight from Yakutat to Anchorage, Alaska

Things look kind of different up here compared to down there on the river.

Flight from Yakutat to Anchorage, Alaska

Our last sight of an anonymous glacier before setting down in Anchorage to catch our flight back to Phoenix.

Flight from Yakutat to Anchorage, Alaska

What an adventure this has been.

Alsek – Day 11

Alsek Lake at sunrise in Alaska

The sun is golden on the lake as we leave our tent, portending that a great day is at hand. Waking up like this is a treasure that should live within us forever. In the future, I will have to read, look, read again, and then repeat that these moments were steeped in perfection.

Alsek Lake at sunrise in Alaska

The sun shining with blue skies is arguably the “perfect” day, but if clouds and snow with some high winds had developed overnight, then that would have been perfect, too. The photos might be less than stellar in some way, though I would hope I still could have gleaned a promising angle to portray the beauty of what the cold environs were offering. To that end, I share these spectacular skies with you here on the last full day of our Alsek river journey.

Canadian tour of boaters heading down the Alsek River in front of Mount Fairweather in Alaska

A fellow group of rafters from Canadian River Expeditions who had stayed out on the knob of the island in Alsek Lake were headed out early this morning with an incredible view of Mount Fairweather to bid them safe travels. This was the second time we were denied staying out there due to others arriving before us, so it goes, as maybe it contributes a reason to visit this river a third time.

Alsek Lake at sunrise in Alaska

The view changes minute by minute, with each iteration looking more appealing than the one that preceded it.

A bee about to land on a flower near Alsek Lake in Alaska

While the bee enjoyed pollen for breakfast, we pulled in close to the fire as, although we had blue skies; it was still a bit chilly out here this morning. Fortunately, we didn’t have to make do with pollen, though flowers are abundant; we were able to feast on made-to-order omelets.

It wasn’t long after this that more than a few fellow travelers became nappers. In the distance, an eagle was heard but remained unseen. Gulls and terns flittered about as out on the lake; icebergs would roll to the sound of ice calving off the glacier far in the distance. At times, the calving must have been fairly serious as the water would surge to shore with a sound more intimidating than the effect. All the while, the clouds shift and move in and out as they dance across the morning sky, painting shadows across the landscape.

Caroline Wise's hand compared to a bear paw print next to Alsek Lake in Alaska

While I explored in one direction, Caroline headed off with Willie and Sarge to see what they could see; they came across these bear paw prints, but luckily not the bear that made them.

Camp on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

Not a bad place to camp, huh?

Camp on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

And if you need more space, you could set your tent up over there.

Out on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

There would be more than eating, sitting by the fire, and picking at chapped, dry, and peeling skin that has been exposed to more wind, water, and sun than is typical when we are back home. Out on the lake, we were rowing to a safe distance from those giant multi-ton bergs of ice that can cause havoc to tiny little people of frail form when encountering the crushing effect that old ice can play on what would have otherwise been a great day. I admit to the dilemma I face in that I simultaneously want us to row up the ice cliff so we can reach out and touch those giants and then again enjoy my distance of relative safety.

Bruce Keller, Sarge, and First Light on Alsek Lake in Alaska

Oh, how beautiful it is out here, except for these old guys. From left to right: Steve “Sarge” Alt, Bruce Keller, and Frank “First Light” Kozyn.

Out on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

Just cruising around the neighborhood and checking out big ice.

Keith Dimond, Thirsty, and Don on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

Keith, Thirsty, and Don bring up the rear of our leisurely excursion into water and ice.

William Mather on Alsek Lake in Alaska

Last photo of William Mather from this trip. Caroline and I first met Willy back on the Yampa River some years ago, and seriously enjoy his company and storytelling. We have an open invitation to visit his farm over in Scotland, and if all goes well that’s what we’ll do in the year 2020.

Surface of Alsek Lake in Alaska

If you never stop to look down at the small stuff, you might miss some of the best views in life. This is reminiscent of some of the golden patterns we’d seen back on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.

Caroline Wise on Alsek Lake in Alaska

Paddled a raft next to icebergs; yep, been there done that.

My "Alsek" socks were just finished here at Alsek Lake by Caroline Wise while in Alaska

During the course of this Alaskan adventure, Caroline worked vigilantly on my newest pair of socks, and so here I am on the shore of Alsek Lake in front of the glacier with Mount Fairweather over my right shoulder and the Pacific a good distance behind me as I pose to model my handmade socks of love.

Rock at Alsek Lake in Alaska

We look at building materials every day of our lives. With conformity of patterns ruling our modern architecture, it is a rare day we get to see nature in all of its raw forms. Here, on this journey down the Alsek River, we have seen how ice carves the landscape, silty water scrapes river channels out of the earth, propelling boulders downstream. Forests give way to the forces of nature, various creatures cling to life in the brief moments that the environment allows their survival, and rocks crumble to dust, but before they do, they lay here for years, allowing us visitors to glimpse their intricacy and natural beauty.

Rock at Alsek Lake in Alaska

I enjoy the unexplained mystery of how this white-rusted rock becomes enmeshed in the surrounding black rocks that kind of look a bit like shale. If I give it another moment of thought, I can figure out what was happening so many years ago when these two rocks met and got married, but then the mystery will go away, and what fun is that?

A stalk of life in a desolate setting next to Alsek Lake in Alaska

This photo tells you more than what might be seen at first blush. Look at the bathtub ring of sand on the rock and keep in mind that I’m about 120 feet (40 meters) away from the lakeshore. The sand around the stalk of this plant has been washed away, not by rain but by a wave that would have risen out of the lake due to the movement of ice somewhere out there. This certainly gives me pause about where we set up our tent, and just like our previous overnight next to the lake, I’m wondering about the wisdom of desiring the waterfront abode.

Bleached drift wood at Alsek Lake in Alaska

There’s no escaping the end-of-journey melancholia that arrives with the waning final moments of a grand adventure. The feelings are amplified when the occasion is found deep in nature, as the connections to the bustle of life in a city have been pushed to the remote edges of experience. A trip to a capital city, on the other hand, will simply require us to transfer our busy activity back home, which is how we typically live anyway. There’s no way to take the serenity of nature and the big outdoors back home with us. Crashing into the airport and the frantic parents traveling with their children is an abrupt cessation of the tranquility we had while outside of civilization and all of its trappings.

Sunset over the Pacific Ocean as seen from Alsek Lake in Alaska

Dinner around the campfire on our last night next to the lake was an incredible smoked halibut chowder, great conversation, and a spectacular sunset. Could we ask for more? Okay, there is something more: that smoked halibut was from Dejon Delights back in Haines, and they do mail-order, so in this circumstance, I’ll be taking the flavor of our adventure back to Phoenix with us. Tonight, though, we sleep under the stars to the sound of calving glaciers and water lapping at the shore, forever lost in moments that should echo throughout our lives.

Alsek – Day 10

On the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Howling winds are today’s alarm clock, and they are also our nemesis in getting our gear packed without it flying away. After employing the strategy of using trees as a windbreak and then moving over to help others, our camp is soon packed up, and we are ready to push the rafts back onto the water to start our day of moving a little further downriver in search of our next stops and ultimately camp.

Hanging glacier near the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Maybe I’ve repeated this one too many times already, but the idea that we are experiencing summer feels elusive. On the other hand, my imagination of the winter conditions says that if it were, in fact, that time of year, we’d be experiencing fiercer winds, temperatures dropping into the deep negatives, and would find most rocks and waterfalls covered in a thick blanket of snow and ice. Should I ever have the means, I could see coming through here some cold January day when light is as precious as warmth to snap a few photos of what this corner of the world looks like when no one else is present to witness it.

On the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Throughout our journey southwest, we are presented with this abundance of glacial ice and snowpack; we are, after all, in the drainage of the largest non-polar ice fields on Earth.

On the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Looking at this image not only am I once again struck by the size and scale of our environment but also our insignificance in comparison. I enjoy the opportunity to dwell on the details that allow me to consider the dirt-and-debris highway that rides atop these glaciers. Boulders that become erratics and moraines that are left in the glacier’s wake, granite that is pushed around, and surfaces scrubbed bare are the handy work of time, ice, water, and grinding weight that transforms ice into the blue hues we stand in awe of.

On the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Our liquid highway today has been cutting through the Fairweather Mountain range and had us passing the enormous Novatak glacier, which, if I’m not mistaken, is that massive sheet of ice in the far background on the left. Like all other days, we needed to make a pit stop to collect firewood, though we hung around long enough to grab lunch at the same time.

Hiking near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Not only was this a stop for firewood and lunch but it was also the spot that would serve to take a hike from.

We were heading to get our first glimpse of Alsek Lake. Cresting a small hill on the fairly worn trail, a gaggle of geese on an iceberg became a skein as they departed, flying close to the lake’s surface.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

We humans, on the other hand, are surface-bound but happy to be here. Our arrival at Alsek Lake, though, is a bittersweet moment as it signals that our last campsite of the journey is about to be had. Caroline’s beanie is a clear indicator of what is on our horizon: Yakutat Coastal Airlines is the company that will fly out to Dry Bay to ferry us back to our regular and ordinary lives as compared to these days of the extraordinary and exceptional.

Mushrooms off the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

A cluster of huddling mushrooms will never know my world, and I can only observe them in their natural environment for minutes before my attention is taken to the next observation. These photographic memories allow me a revisit and study them to finish contemplating just what it was back on this particular Saturday that intrigued me about these fungi, pulling my senses their way and, in a sense, asking me to immortalize them.

Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

From a view on high, this chilly corner of the world is monochromatic, but on closer inspection, the full palette and vibrancy of the rainbow are scattered about for those observant enough and willing to invest their time to explore such sights.

Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Every other day when I’m in the world I call home, I repeatedly see the same roads, same kitchen, same office, and mostly the same faces, so when I find scenes such as these, I must capture them so I may gaze upon them repeatedly as well.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

We lounge lakeside with some visitors indulging in short naps while I restlessly meander across the area, looking to fill my memories with as many mental snapshots as I’m able to hold. What I can’t bring back is how the impressions of bear paws create a sense of alert that one could stroll by at any minute. The feeling of the air and the sound of icebergs rolling over, echoing across the water before the ripple laps at the shore, letting us know that it wasn’t a mere ice cube that was tumbling, will also remain a distinct remembrance. In a sense, I’m like one of those frozen water molecules out there in front of me, locked in a moment, except I’m trying to understand what potential exists for me once I escape the clutch of the universe that has trapped me in my current existence.

Near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

I’ve never seen moss move, nor will I likely ever have that opportunity. That I never will is okay because it affords me that delight in seeing it sit quietly and serenely as I inspect it, touch it, smell it, and fall into wonder how it knew that by attaching itself to something of such a strong contrasting color it would allow it to be all the more beautiful.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

I’m an equal opportunity connoisseur of things beautiful and hold rocks in high esteem.

Hiking near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Time for the two-legged animals to trace their way back to the rubber crafts that allow them to traverse water from above instead of within like normal water-going creatures.

Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Just because we must return to find new adventures and even more sights doesn’t mean we don’t have to walk by and not appreciate those things we missed when we first passed through.

Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Their colors sang to me and, like Sirens, lured me with their song and enchantments though fortunately, I escaped without having to encounter a kind of aesthetic shipwreck at the price of being drawn to them. Should you guess by now that I’m a romantic, your observation wouldn’t be wrong.

Near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Don’t think for a minute that rocks do not also hold a special place in my heart. In my book, “Stay in The Magic,” I devote a healthy dose of love and appreciation for all things geological as we moved down the Colorado River through that stone temple known as the Grand Canyon. While the landscape here may be newer and worn differently, it is no less spectacular and serves as a powerful lesson about differences found between geological epochs and locations.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Does that look like a 10-story-high iceberg to you? It doesn’t to me either, but it’s at least that tall. Such are the tricks of scale played on the mind of the explorer in such exotic places.

Pauly at the oars on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

It’s just amazing what boatmen do to make all of these experiences possible for those of us who have no other way of exploring this type of environment. While he’s finally out of silhouette and not laying on his back, hardly recognizable, this is Pauly, although under the hat, behind the sunglasses, and with his jacket covering his lower jaw, you’d hardly know it.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

In Alaska, rocks know how to float.

Caroline Wise on the Alsek Lake in Alaska

We have arrived at our camp in front of the Alsek glacier and its lake. This will be our home for nearly 36 hours and if this were the extent of how we might spend a weekend just sitting lakeside with an occasional paddle out among the icebergs, we could be happy, ecstatic even.

Shoreline near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

While Caroline communes with the horizon, I pick up some of the details to ensure there are no gaps in our visual memories.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

The skies above the Fairweather Range start to clear.

Mountains near Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

The rugged mountains and heavier coastal precipitation make for some stark snow and ice forms riding atop the range. Like waiting for the fireworks to begin on New Year’s or the American Fourth of July we are in anticipation of some particular clouds giving way to a rare sight: the top of Mount Fairweather, which is still shrouded to the right of this photo.

On the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Starting to feel like it’s almost evening. To the right of the rafts lies the channel the Alsek is exiting on and the one we will take the day after tomorrow.

Sunset on Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

Dinner in the golden light of the Alaskan wilderness but Fairweather remains elusive.

Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

So flowers must remain my constant visual companion as we wait for the big show. If you, too, had been here on this day, then maybe you also would be smiling with me as your memories danced with the color of mid-summer here at 59 degrees, 12 minutes, and 5 seconds north.

Driftwood and Wildflowers off Alsek River in Alaska, United States

Moving towards the end of the day, the light remains spectacular.

Mount Fairweather in Alaska, United States

And just as the surrounding landscape is turning darker, the clouds clear long enough to offer us this most beautiful view of Mount Fairweather. That beast is towering 15,325 feet above sea level and is one of the tallest coastal mountains on earth at only 12 miles east of the Pacific Ocean.

Campfire on the Alsek Lake in Alaska, United States

We close out the day around a campfire, warming our toes and enjoying the conversation of a day, a week, a life well spent. Tomorrow, the adventure continues.

Alsek – Day 9

Hanging glacier along the Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

Snow and glaciers are part of a gorgeous start to a day on the Alsek River, well, that and a hot breakfast.

Mountains along the Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

We won’t be in camp much longer as it’s almost time to get out on the river.

On the Alsek in front of the Noisy Range in British Columbia, Canada

The mountains in the background are part of the Noisy Range. The sky is a mixed bag of shifting clouds that is, on occasion letting bits of sunshine speckle the landscape.

Joining the Tatshenshini River from the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Straight out, far in the distance between these two mountain ranges, lies the Pacific, and fortunately for us, that’s not the way we’ll be traveling today. For one, no river runs out that way, but if there was, it would mean we are almost finished with this journey. We are now entering the confluence of the Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers. While this is just one small braid joining us, soon we’ll be on the full flow of the combined rivers.

Hanging glacier along the Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

Another hanging glacier falls out of the mountains alongside the merging Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers in British Columbia, Canada.

The merged Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers in British Columbia, Canada

This photo was taken in the middle of the now merged Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers which at times feel more like a lake.

Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

One minute, I’m looking behind us, and the river reflects the golden light of the early morning sun, and then a minute later, we are looking at winter.

End Glacier is straight ahead and slightly left here on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Here’s where things start getting a little more difficult because the Alsek is about to become a thousand shallow braids, and our trip leader, Bruce Keller, has to make some serious decisions based on his years of studying rivers. This labyrinth demands we engage in a zig-zag hunt for the path that will take us to End Glacier, which is just ahead on the left. While that spot down there in the United States might look relatively close (we estimate it to be between 6 and 7 miles from our current vantage point), we have about 15 miles of rowing ahead of us due to the course we will have to take.

GoogleSatView of Alsek
Satellite view courtesy of Google Maps.

We are sitting in that mess of braids, as seen in this satellite image I found on Google Maps. It was taken in winter when flows are low and much of the river in its thinnest parts is frozen, at least on its top layer. On the day we were running the river, the entire channel may have looked much like a lake, but in some places, the water would be only inches deep.

On the Alsek River in the United States

There may have been water flowing over this gravel and sand bed some weeks ago, but now it’s an exposed bank that we are floating past. To my untrained eye, the water was going in all directions at once. While this river could be said to be flowing through a river bed, that path is changing all the time from day to day and week to week. In eddies, it runs back upstream; near gravel beds, it can run sideways until it spills back into the main channel. Water that is being dragged out of the main channel is called a bleeder and where water has accumulated and starts reentering a larger channel, that is known as a feeder. Earlier in my blog post, I spoke about how people on these rafts do not want to step in the water to help dislodge a raft that has run aground; this image is a perfect example of what might lay just below the surface and getting a foot wedged between half-buried trees in fast-moving cold water is not somewhere anyone wants to attempt a rescue.

Lush riverside plant life along the Alsek in the United States

Back in Canada, we had ice and rocks and a couple of flowers; here in the United States of America, we have lush mountainsides and flowers in abundance because America. I’m just kidding, of course, as this has been a large part of the landscape ever since we arrived on this side of the Tweedsmuir Glacier.

Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

Around the bend from End Glacier, we get our first glimpse of Walker Glacier, thusly named because it used to be accessible. The name of Walker may no longer be appropriate, though, because it has been retreating since 1984 and the section our group hiked on five years earlier has collapsed and helped create an even larger lake in front of the shrinking glacier.

Camp next to the Alsek River in the United States

Where Caroline and I set up our tent next to the river was the face of Walker Glacier thirty-three years ago. Back in the mid-1970s, when Bart Henderson was out exploring the Tatshenshini before setting up the first commercial white water runs in this area, he must have encountered a very different environment. Back then, in this region, the mountains were perpetually snowcapped, and the glaciers extended hundreds of feet further than they do now. One has to wonder if someone traveling through thirty years from now on an October run will only hear stories of glaciers that used to be in the mountains and that people were even able to walk on them shortly after getting off their raft.

Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

On our way for a closer look.

Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

There will be no walking out on that jagged mess of potential death, but it sure is pretty.

Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

Rocks floating in the water waiting to be released from the ice that for thousands of years have carried them to this point. Sometime soon, the ice will have melted and will be on its way to the Pacific, and the rocks will find their way to the bottom of the lake. This is another example of how erratics are brought to new locations.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in front of Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

Like a couple of erratics, these two from somewhere else keep ending up in places they are not originally from. Notice Caroline’s beanie from Yakutat Coastal Airlines? She got that one five years after her first “bush plane” ride. My beanie was handmade by Caroline, and has since been to Yellowstone for some snowshoeing, to Oregon on the coast during winter, and twice now to the Alsek.

Walker Glacier on the Alsek River in the United States

As we explore the lakeshore next to Walker Glacier I’m struck by the idea that no one else on Earth could be having the experience I am right now. While in the city back home, my office, or the grocery store, we all experience a shared reality. Out here, there is ample opportunity for 14 people to have a distinct perspective of a view that only they will hear and see. And while any two people looking at, let’s say, the Statue of Liberty will have distinct but similar experiences, they are relatively the same as the Statue is unchanging, and the environment, aside from the weather, will be relatively constant. On the other hand, there are experiences like today’s that are dynamic and will be mostly different from anyone who follows. I think this fluid state of change is what draws many people into these types of experiences, such as when a surfer finds a wave only for it to dissipate, never to be ridden again, allowing it to enter a kind of mythological status. Are these kinds of journeys our way of joining the mythological narrative that surrounds our existence?

Alsek River in a calm corner in the United States

These moments of unique experiences well removed from our routines beg a question for me: is there a hierarchy of greater or lesser impact on the character of the individual from the grade of experience that affects us on a deeper intrinsic level? If so, how do they broaden or narrow one’s focus or affinity for what life is offering? Is our relationship to the nature found in these extraordinary locations extended and made more secure, or was our DNA and previous experiences already taking us down this path?

Outflow of the Walker Lake joining the Alsek River in the United States

The waters of the Alsek River and the lake that has formed at the Walker Glacier are joining here, where even the patterns in the mud are strikingly beautiful to me.

John Wise napping next to the Alsek River in the United States

One can easily get tired on vacation and in need of pulling up a spot in the sand to just lay down and get a little nap.

Rafts on the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

It’s 9:00 p.m. as I head to the river to check the lighting and make sure nobody has made off with one of our rafts.

Sun on the local range here next to the Aslek River in the United States

The sun has come out to smile upon us here in Alaska as our day unwinds.

Middle of the night on the Alsek River in Alaska, United States

A few of us are up late on a clear, cool night. While the roar of 14 voices can sound cacophonous in this kind of landscape, the river seems to have slowed down in reverence to the moon and delicate light that is defining our night and is somehow quieter than it was when we landed. These moments late in a river trip are when one wishes to roll back the clock to when we were first launching and make it a point to keep sleepiness at bay so we could enjoy many of the nights where the midnight moon silently crawled across the sky while the rest of our travel companions slept warm and soundly over in their tents.

Alsek – Day 8

Camp at Tweedsmuir Glacier on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Heli-portage day. We were up early and rapidly pulling camp down while breakfast burritos were being prepared. After a quick meal, it was right back to packing and organizing all of our gear for today’s big portage. Dishes and cleaning the kitchen is a group effort as we have to be ready when our helicopter shows up. Tents are stored in empty food lockers, and the PFDs and paddles are lashed together in bundles. Food has been consolidated into the tightest pack possible, seeing we have consumed seven days of our provisions. Our sleeping bags are set to one side and our dry bags to another. The deflated rafts sit near shore. While most of us can help, it’s the boatmen who shoulder the majority of the work. The best we can do is to be efficient in getting our gear packed and moved to the staging area. Get to the unit early so we can pack up our shit because it’s going down the river too. After everything is staged for the final pack we start our wait for the pilot, who appeared about 30 minutes later.

Helicopter landing in camp in front of Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Before our helicopter lands, we are briefed that NOTHING that could be blown away and caught up in the rotors should be loose. We are also informed that we will fly in three groups and that we should be attentive and listen to instructions. No silly exuberance is allowed. Get in the craft, buckle up, and help others do the same. Put on your headset. Do NOT slam the doors as they are expensive and relatively fragile; they are not car doors. Be aware of your situation: tail rotors chop, and turbines are hot and loud. We hear our transportation arriving just before we can spot it coming in low, and soon, he’s setting down and kicking up the dust. After our pilot Ian shuts down, he’s soon out and unloading the nets that will be slung under his helicopter and moved about seven miles downstream.

Loading rafting gear into net for heli-portage on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Before anyone heads down the river, we need all hands on deck to help move a serious amount of rafting gear and food onto the nets. There’s a limit to how much weight the helicopter can lift at one time and so it’s our boatmen’s job to use their best judgment to see that the weight gets distributed as evenly as possible across the three nets: one for each raft.

Loading rafting gear into net for heli-portage on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

If any of the nets is too heavy, the pilot will put it back down after he weighs it, and we’ll have to repack that net. Our pilot, by now has already assessed the weather downstream and is busy determining how he wants to move us and our gear.

Loading rafting gear into net for heli-portage on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The net should be as evenly weighted as we can muster and everything in it should be solid to not shift when it’s dangling under the helicopter. Should anything alert the pilot that something isn’t safe, he will drop our gear in an instant to preserve life and maintain safety.

First group portaging over Turnback Canyon at the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

While it took us seven days to get to the Tweedsmuir Glacier, it only took our pilot 45 minutes from Haines Junction in Canada. Our gear was finished being loaded into the slings in less than 30 minutes. Time for another safety briefing, this time from our pilot, Ian. He explains how he expects us to board and exit the craft. He shows us how our seat belts work, where the emergency equipment and sat phone are along with a beacon, and where storage is for the personal bag we’ll be carrying. With that, the first five are boarding and will soon be airborne.

Helicopter portage over Turnback Canyon at the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

There they go, flying out over Turnback Canyon and the Tweedsmuir Glacier to some point downstream, where they will await the others and our gear. It was probably about 10 minutes down and 10 minutes back, based on when Ian returned to pick up the next group to be dropped off where the others were hanging out. Then, 20 minutes later, the helicopter returned to start moving our gear.

Bruce Keller directing our helicopter pilot to lift our gear at Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Only four of us were left in camp with these three slings of our gear about to be two slings. Bruce was directing operations this morning, and with Ian hovering over him and the river, he grabbed the hook and attached it to the sling.

Our gear being lifted for a heli-portage at Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

One thousand two hundred and fifty pounds of gear is what the first load came in at.

Our gear being lifted for a heli-portage at Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

The next sling weighed in at 1,360 pounds and the third at 1,280 pounds. All told, we are traveling with 3,890 pounds of gear, which, in just a few more minutes, will all be somewhere downstream. It’s strangely quiet here at our nearly deserted camp: just the four of us, a river, and some clouds – kind of empty feeling.  Over in the mud, I spot a human footprint, one of the few remaining impressions that people had been here.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Now it’s our turn to lift off in this helicopter for our portage downriver, passing over this dangerous part of the river that has earned the nickname Turnback Canyon.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

While the flight is only about 10 minutes long, the amount of visual stimulation and changing scenery is monumental, from the top of the Tweedsmuir Glacier on one side to the raging Alsek River below us.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Each turn and every angle offers more than the mind can comprehend and inventory.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

The waters below us are falling rapidly through incredibly narrow chutes. How all of this water fits in this canyon is mind-boggling.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Taking these photos while flying over Turnback and the Tweedsmuir may feel obligatory, but doing so is a powerful distraction that is pulling me out of being fully in the moment. Instead of committing it all to memory, I’m capturing the impressions with a camera that will require me to view much of the experience on a computer.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

My recommendation to others making this portage is to skip the photos or ask the one person who is best equipped and is going to take photos or make a video to share with the group so the majority can enjoy this rare moment flying low over a remote glacier and this treacherous canyon.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

The landscape is bewildering, and while it is monumental from the river it becomes infinite when in the sky.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

From up here, you realize just how tiny we are and how, down in that forest, a bear could be just a couple hundred feet away from you, and neither you nor it will know the other even existed.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

In some way, we are like one of the trillions of water molecules being jettisoned out of that waterfall where the arch from the top to joining the river is the length of our life, and after it makes contact with the larger body of water, it will be lost in the flow, just as we will be in the flow of time.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

The helicopter offers us many different views of our environment, and because of the speed we are traveling, mixed with our overcast sky, it’s a chore to try to grab worthwhile images of the world around us. I hope that this long photo essay will help convey a fraction of the complexity we were flying over.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

We are nearly finished passing the Tweedsmuir Glacier, which means that somewhere out there along that river, we are going to be setting down and returning to our travels via raft.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

One last look over the Tweedsmuir and its fog-covered ice fields. If only we could set down out there for a short while and explore the glacier. Then again, this is a pricey affair at $30 a minute. We’ll eat up approximately 285 air minutes of this helicopter’s time, with the entire cost of the portage costing roughly $9,000. So when you are left wondering why a trip in the remote wilds of the Yukon and Alaska can get pricey, you can start considering the cost of food being transported, people being delivered safely on both ends of the journey, and that your three or four guides must also earn a little something for being knowledgeable mentors, cooks, medics, and boatmen who work against some difficult conditions to show us these remote parts of the world.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Out there on one of the gravel islands are three rafts and ten others waiting for our arrival.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Some of the many details are nearly impossible to see when sitting inches over the river.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

One last look back upriver to see where we just came from. If you glance near the bottom left of this photo, you can see some boiling water near the corner, which is not a rapid; it is water coming up from below the glacier.

Flying over the Alsek River, Turnback Canyon, and the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

There’s our group, and it appears they are almost ready to get going.

Our boatmen saying goodbye to our helicopter pilot on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Our boatmen had a few things to send back with our pilot, and after a heartfelt thank you for delivering all of us downriver, he was about to take off again.

Helicopter returning to Haines Juncation, Yukon, Canada from the Alsek River

Time for our pilot, Ian, to make the hour-long flight back to Haines Junction in the Yukon, Canada. Our encounter with the outside world is done and we need to focus on continuing our journey down the Alsek.

Rafting the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Within 10 minutes of our landing, we were back on the river and were already looking for a pullout to make lunch.

Rafting the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

On this side of the Tweedsmuir Glacier, we are starting to see the first signs of the rainforest, with birch, fir, and spruce being seen. We are also now on the most heavily braided part of this adventure as the river widens from this point forward.

Lunch on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Smoked salmon by the pound with bagels, red onions, fresh avocado, tomato, capers, cream cheese, and cookies. This is lunch slough style, meaning we paddled up a slough and away from the roar of the mighty Alsek. For the first time in a week, we are in near silence.

Waterfall off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The dream journey through this river corridor would see me on a private trip taking an entire summer where we’d move like the glaciers, lingering in every spot and leaving the river at every opportunity to photo document the area. Instead, I have my camera at the ready at every opportunity and try to grab a decent image of the incredible scenery, but I can assure you that if the sun were out this would be an entirely different place. As I write this, I can’t help but think I’ve shared this sentiment before, maybe even on the last Alsek trip.

Jill, Thirsty, and Caroline Wise on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

While there have been plenty of photos from our portage, our day is not over, and we have a few river miles to go before we stop to set up our next camp. If I didn’t mention it before, this is Thirsty, one of our boatmen.

Waterfalls off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

I added this photo to this entry reluctantly as in low resolution, you miss much of the jagged nature of the rocks, but maybe you can imagine them or maybe one day I’ll be able to link the full-resolution images I shot. Also, you can notice how dramatically the light has changed between this image and the waterfall just above that was taken 40 minutes earlier.

Firewood collection on a raft on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

I love these inflatable cruise ship hood ornaments, better known as firewood bundles, that we strap to our rafts so we may indulge in the luxury of a campfire late in the day.

Dead tree in the Alsek River British Columbia, Canada

This dead tree in the river gives you a good indication of just how shallow some of the braids are and how important it is for a boatman to choose the right channel. While the river is shallow here, you still don’t want to have to step in to help dislodge a raft with 2,000 pounds of gear and passengers as you cannot see what’s just below the surface and getting a foot snagged on a hidden branch or rock can be a serious threat.

Entering the Noisy Range on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Along the way, we passed the Vern-Mitchell Glacier, which I failed to get a reasonable photo of, and are now entering the Noisy Range. It was here in the appropriately named range that five years ago, we first heard and then saw a landslide in these mountains that has earned them their name.

Cut bank on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

About to pull ashore for camp as we drift along this sandy cut bank on the Alsek River.

Near the confluence of the Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers in British Columbia, Canada

Sun, clouds, water, trees, mountains, sun, snow, and ice all come together like the confluence of the Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers here, where we are making camp for our eighth night sleeping in the wilderness. While the last hour on the river was tough due to falling into a salmon-induced coma (not just me, by the way), we set up camp pretty quickly.

Caroline Wise camping next to the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

With our tent set up and our gear stowed, we can get on with the other camp stuff, such as knitting and writing.

Caroline Wise knitting next to the confluence of the Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers in British Columbia, Canada

Caroline Wise is the first woman in history to be photographed knitting near the confluence of the Tatshenshini and Alsek Rivers. The Guinness committee didn’t seem all that impressed; then again, the socks she’s making are for me and not them.

Wildflowers off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Our previous trip here was during June, and the month and five years between these journeys make quite the difference. With such a short spring, summer, and fall jammed into about three months, June was lush compared to July, as things were brighter green back then. Many of the plants are dryer here at the end of July, with mushrooms nearly gone and the moss crispy and pulling back.

Wildflowers off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

I was distracted from writing and instead took the opportunity, with our momentary burst of sunlight, to grab some photos of the beautiful plant life in camp.

Dryas off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Can there ever be enough glowing dryas pictured here?

Wildflowers off the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

It’s amazing to think that this is about seven weeks of growth, and much of it has started bolting to seed. In little more than a month, it will be winter here again, and we humans, along with these flowers, will be gone until next year when May brings the sun back, and by early June, this river corridor will jump back to life.

Steve "Sarge" Alt and William Mather in camp on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The sun poked its face into ours for a few minutes, and as quickly as it disappeared, the temperature started to drop with its departure. Our dinner tonight was cooked over some of that wood we collected earlier; we had barbecued ribeye steaks, cheesy potatoes, and cabbage salad, followed by a freshly baked Dutch oven coffee cake for dessert. Not an hour after dinner, most everyone retired to their tents while Pauly, Caroline, Keith, and I burned the midnight oil, chatting around the fire. In the photo are Steve “Sarge” Alt and William Mather.

Alsek – Day 7

Low clouds in front of the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

I woke up late this morning (if that were possible, as we don’t know what time it is). Due to tomorrow’s portage over Turnback Canyon and the Tweedsmuir Glacier, we won’t be in a hurry to get anything done today. It’s colder in camp compared to the previous days, and as we emerge from our cozy sleeping bags, we see why: the clouds are low on this overcast morning. Breakfast was pancakes and sausage, and seeing how I no longer get to indulge in pancakes, this was the day to break that rule, so I have FIVE of them!

Playing cards next to the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The boatmen, after packing more of our gear, were off to catch a nap. Caroline and some of the guys are playing Oh Hell while I’m hanging out with First Light Frank, who’s drying his boots by the fire while I take notes about the trip.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The weather quickly changes from cold and overcast to relatively hot, with splashes of sun starting to fall on camp. I can’t tell you where the morning went, but somehow, it’s already lunch, and the boatmen have turned on the grill to make us hot sandwiches. For a moment, I thought I was still full from the pancakes, but then I bit into a sandwich, and sure enough, I was hungry. With the addition of lettuce, tomato, and avocado, along with some melted cheese and potato soup, I’m reminded how much the diversity of food lends luxury to these river trips.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

At home, I’m president and founder of my virtual reality company, but out here, I’m a guy on a river trip. I collect wood, water, and experience. I shit in a can and piss in the open. I get to choose who and if I want to talk with anyone. I do not have to explain anything, take a call, or be accountable to anyone other than the small group that is experiencing the same freedom and burden. If I need help, there are 13 other people who all seem equally enthusiastic to lend a hand.

John Wise on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

There are wealthy people, people doing well, and people on social security and pensions. None of that matters because we are all sharing this moment in the here and now. There are no distinctions of place in society or the economy other than the boatmen who own skills requisite to our safety that give them a responsibility none of the rest of us can assume. So, in some ways, the boatmen are the executives, and we are their hired staff, except that we are paying them to be here to keep us away from the routines of our normal lives.

Grizzly bear print on the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Mid-day we went out on somewhat clearing skies for a hike towards Turnback Canyon in front of the Tweedsmuir Glacier. Five years ago, we took this same trail, and at the same place, my vertigo and fear of exposure stopped me from traveling forward. So once again, we’ll hang out and have some time to intimately explore the details found next to a pond that is slowly emptying into the Alsek River. First up was a massive grizzly print reassuring us that we wouldn’t necessarily be alone.

Tweedsmuir Glacier on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Also, five years ago, we stood just about right here and watched a spectacular calving of the glacier. From the appearance of the ice now, it’s obvious that the glacier has stopped moving and is shrinking as the dust and dirt that commonly travel with the flowing ice have been accumulating to form soil over the ice, and what ice is exposed is stained black.

Caterpillar on the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Caroline found a caterpillar, the noxious and deadly Caterpillicus deathtropia species that, with a brushstroke of a single hair, can paralyze a person, while when bitten, you will certainly be dead in minutes. My fearless wife removed its poison sacks and defanged it so we could cuddle with this soft, furry-looking caterpillar that probably doesn’t have any of the attributes I described above, but you never know.

On the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The tree in death will remain here long after we leave and was here before we ever laid eyes on it. Five years ago, it was sitting in the same place, and if you click here, you’ll be taken to Day 9 of our previous visit to the Alsek River; scroll down to the 4th image, and there it is. This old fragment of the tree that once stood somewhere else and reached for the sky played home to birds and insects for a time until the day came when it was uprooted for one reason or another. It was ultimately transported to this small pond next to the Alsek in front of the Tweedsmuir glacier and remains on view as a reminder of its life. What artifacts do we leave behind for others to remember us? I’d wager no one would randomly wander by our final resting place and contemplate where we’d come from and what our purpose was. Maybe if I leave enough words and breadcrumbs about the existence of John and Caroline Wise, some random passerby will stop on these pages and wonder, who were these people?

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The world in close focus is full of immense details that can easily be overlooked when trying to see the bigger picture, while the bigger picture wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for those things simultaneously unseen.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

We were half expecting a giant grizzly to step around this corner at nearly any moment. Instead, all we had was the creeping beauty that kept oozing out of the landscape or reflecting in the water.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

The slow, constant flow of water feeds the moss, the moss turns to slime, and out of the muck arises life.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

No, seriously, think about it: you have light, water, minerals, and a few other things I’m forgetting to mention, which are the very building blocks of life.

Glacial erratic on the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Another erratic with a stowaway erratic riding on top of it.

On the trail to the Turnback Canyon Overlook on the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

On the trail back to camp.

Wildflower near Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

This was another trip where the only people I saw get down and commune with flowers, fungi, and furry caterpillars were Caroline and me. To think that the details found in a single flower cannot illicit the attention of those who may just as well inadvertently step on its beauty remains astounding to me. I could imagine some tiny bug on one of these petals looking at us and shaking its head in astonishment that we are so occupied seeing the flower that we don’t take time to see the bacterial life abounding on the hairs before our very eyes.

Wildflower near Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Because the world needs the color of lavender.

Alsek River at Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Back at camp, it was time for some personal hygiene for a few of our fellow campers, and the rushing water of the Alsek held great appeal for some afternoon bathing. Caroline and I were part of those “some.” To wash those parts that are most typically snug and warm and so infrequently seen by the sun with water so cold it is close to becoming ice if it weren’t for its momentum is a bracing jolt of cold reality. The fortitude to step into the cold rushing liquid is admirable, and now, away from the water and the assisting hand Caroline and I were able to offer one another, it seems like there is more strength on display by going solo and briskly stepping into the water and not murmuring a sound compared to me barking in a falsetto voice for Caroline to stay nearby in case I needed a hand.

Camp across from the Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

The kitchen was coming alive as some sun found its way through the clouds and, with it kicked up a slight breeze that was big enough to clear the camp of mosquitos. By dinnertime, most everyone had shed a couple of layers and finally ended up in the Alsek for a rinse.

Alsek River at Tweedsmuir Glacier in British Columbia, Canada

Pre-dinner drinks started with Caroline opening the 10-year-old bottle of Laphroaig Scotch we brought from Haines. During the trip, she’d imbibe on Port Chilkoot Distillery’s 50 Fathoms Gin, Jameson, Bushmills, Fireball, and Dale’s Pale Ale. To say that my wife becomes a river lush may not be too much of an exaggeration, though, to be honest, she “usually” doesn’t get started until dinner time. After cheese and crackers, cashews, and pickled asparagus, we dined on spaghetti with sausage mushroom tomato sauce, garlic bread, and a spice cake with cream cheese frosting for dessert. Our second dessert was this spectacular blast of sun sliding to the right.

Alsek – Day 6

Twisting layers of sedimentary rock on the shore of the Alsek river in Canada

We slept in today. Not even sure how long, as Caroline and I are not traveling with anything that keeps time. This allows us to get on nature’s schedule of awake, tired, sleeping, and waking instead of being beholden to the mechanical gatekeeper gods of the calendar. Others were by now moving about, too, with the telltale sounds of a boatman in the kitchen working on bringing breakfast into reality. Before we emerge, we attempt our ablutions within the coziness of the tent. After a hot day, it’s easy to convince oneself to test the cold waters, but after a toasty night buried deep in a sleeping bag, there’s no way to consider going and placing any part of the body into near-freezing water. Even with an itchy scalp producing a snowstorm of flaking activity on its way to building dead skin glaciers, there’s a limit to the discomfort that won’t be tested this morning. While the head will continue to suffer, the stinky parts are treated to vigorous scrubbing with trusty camp wipes.

The Alsek River in Canada

Somewhere between this attempt at personal hygiene and breakfast, the tent is broken down, stowed, and blam; I need to visit the unit – must have been the coffee. My trek over to the unit proved less than fruitful, for while the body was willing and able, poop mountain was too close to eclipsing the event horizon with my knuckles recoiling in horror. Fortunately, my bowel obliged and constricted the imminent movement that felt so urgent seconds before. Resigned to wait, I leave slightly disappointed but simultaneously happy that I “can” wait!

Boating on the Alsek river in Canada

Rafts packed up, we are once again moving downriver in the hunt for another campsite.

The Alsek River in Canada

We’ll hit quite a few small rapids on this short stretch, with a couple large enough to have a cold water splash in our faces.

The Alsek River in Canada

We ran downstream for about an hour before pulling over to explore a place.

Moss next to the Alsek River in Canada

While the others ventured off for a short hike up a knob, I stayed back near the river to check out the small stuff.

Wild flowers along the Alsek river in Canada

Such as flowers.

The Alsek River in Canada

Found some bear tracks that were quite faded and filmed the nearby small rapids. In these quiet moments alone, I go looking for small details, not just in my surroundings but also within. Contemplating the solitude of the bear moving through a landscape that is its own or the accumulating gravel across the river on a cascade of ice that, in all likelihood, is there all year round, I try to better understand this place that I’m only momentarily allowed to visit. I wonder how, over time, this small corner of Earth appears alive as the river runs through its veins and the mountains shed rocks and boulders as they grow up or fade away. These fleeting thoughts produce few answers and leave me wanting to know more as I try to dig deeper into my mind to discover the questions that will help produce insights that prove so elusive.

Squirrel next to the Alsek river in Canada

Sitting down on a rock, ready to take some notes about the day so far, a couple of squirrels come in for a visit. They were not looking for food; I guess that I’m the first person they may have ever seen. My imagination suggests that they are intrigued to see these two-legged animals with weird, colorful skin that offers zero camouflage ability. After not much more than a few seconds taking in the situation, they go about their foraging as they brush aside sand and dig just below the surface. All the while, as one of them works, the other remains vigilant in observing the surroundings to ensure their safety. These plump guys probably make for good eating if you are a bird of prey. And then they scurried off, as it was likely they heard my travel companions returning before I did. Writing will have to wait for another stop.

On the Alsek river in Canada

Heading to another adventure on the Alsek River in the middle of Nowhere, Canada. See the raft on the river for scale.

Mt. Blackadar along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

A perfect example of a hanging glacier can be seen from the river as we start our approach to Mount Blackadar. As Caroline and I know part of this routine, we already know that we’ll be camping on the other side of this mountain in front of a giant and somewhat dangerous glacier.

A random glacier emerging next to the Alsek River in British Columbia, Canada

Some of these photos might seem a little blurry; well, I’m shooting from the river with less than optimal lighting conditions where the brightness of the snow and sky wreak havoc on getting a decent exposure on dark rocks and deep green forest in the foreground. While I’m not trying to win awards with these photos, I do want them to bring us back to this extraordinary day when we traveled a corridor that very few humans have ever seen with their own eyes.

Tiny mushroom at the Serengeti on the Alsek river in Canada

Somehow, all of a sudden, it’s mid-day and time for lunch. We are at the Serengeti, as it is known, due to the abundance of wildlife that can be spotted here. While Mexican-inspired wraps are being prepared, I’m investigating what might be out here besides the obvious giant mountains, glaciers, river, and trees.

Grizzly bear paw print in the sand along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

This grizzly bear paw print was headed northeast, hopefully on the way back to the Yukon. Getting down and smelling the bear print, I could tell that this female passed through here three days ago, so I need not worry that she was still in the area. Okay, that was royal bologna, as I just made that up, but it made you think a moment, didn’t it? Near to the paw print was a single cub’s print, traveling with mom’s.  I believe it was at some time on this day we passed from the Yukon into British Columbia; maybe it was yesterday, not that this detail has any bearing on things.

Wolf print next to the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

No sight nor sound of wolves anywhere during this trip, just this paw print to let us know they are present.  Time for lunch.

Dryas octopetala found near the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

We are off for a hike over hill and dale, looking for the perfect spot to catch a glimpse of whatever wildlife might be present or even these lovely dryas. This robust and nearly ubiquitous plant has followed us from the first day of our trip, and still, I do not tire of admiring it.

Heart shaped orange and grey rock found river side on the Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

It’s not every day that walking along you look down and see a heart-shaped orange and grey rock, but here in British Columbia it just may be more common than one might imagine.

Soapberry along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

While they may look yummy or poisonous, depending on your perspective, these are, in fact, soapberries. This particular version, I believe, is the shepherdia Canadensis, commonly called Canada buffaloberry. If I’m correct about the species, then this fruit is edible, though it is bitter and, in larger amounts, can cause bowel irritation due to the saponin, which is the chemical that also gives this berry its name related to soap.

Looking back towards the Alsek river from the Serengeti in British Columbia, Canada

From the top of the hill, we can look back towards the Alsek from the informally named Serengeti. Somewhere down there are our rafts, and I have to admit that every time we leave them (well tied up for sure), I’m a bit nervous that one will break free and make a solo voyage down the river without us. Fortunately, this has never happened, well, except that time in the Grand Canyon on the Colorado at Black Tail Canyon, where fortunately, an eddy caught it, keeping it a prisoner and safe for our return in its swirling waters.

Dryas octopetala found near the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

Yeah…..I really do have a thing for this stuff. Its formal name is Dryas octopetala (I hope), and is related to the rose. The genus is named after the dryads, the tree nymphs of ancient Greek mythology (thanks, Wikipedia).

Bruce Keller and Echo Miller looking out towards Mount Blackadar along the Alsek in British Columbia, Canada

Our trip leader, Bruce Keller, with his partner Echo Miller, took a moment to relax and gaze upon Mount Blackadar.

Frank "First Light" Kozyn in front of Mt. Blackadar on the Alsek River in Canada

This was probably my favorite photo of Frank “First Light” Kozyn I shot. Here he is in front of Mount Blackadar. This mountain must have some important history, as I keep pointing it out; read on.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in the Serengeti next to the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

Caroline and I, with our fat heads, blocked the view of Mount Blackadar behind us. Mount Blackadar was named after Dr. Walt Blackadar, who first kayaked Turn Back Canyon on the other side of this mountain back in 1971 at the age of 49. That solo journey, which has been compared in significance to the first ascent of Mt. Everest, earned him the respect to have the mountain standing sentinel to Turn Back Canyon named after him. Like so many other river adventurers who risked their lives to see and experience a thing, he became a vocal proponent for the protection of our riverways.

Pauly Borichevsky chilling in front of Mt. Blackadar along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

This is our boatman Pauly Borichevsky chilling in front of you-know-which mountain.

Back on the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

You know that mountain that looked so close? You know, Mount Blackadar. Well, it was nearly two hours away, sure it looked like it might be 15 minutes away, but that is a trick due to the scale and magnitude of this landscape. On this leg of the river, we encounter an incredible number of “S” turns that have us constantly on the move staying away from where the water piles up against walls.

Stopping next to the Alsek River to collect drift wood for our fire in British Columbia, Canada

Collecting driftwood for our campfire later today. Firewood is essential for us as we use it to boil river water for washing dishes; it also makes for a toasty place to warm our cold feet. This collection is a bit different than other days as we need two days’ worth due to us staying on a layover in front of Tweedsmuir Glacier before our helicopter portage over Turn Back Canyon. While Dr. Blackadar survived a kayak run of this treacherous canyon, we would surely die if we attempted to run it in rafts.

The geology along the Alsek river never fails to inspire here in British Columbia, Canada

By now you may start wondering just how long can this blog entry be. Well, it’s only about 1,400 words so far, but I can’t help but share better photos I shot on this day. Out of 207 photos only 23 are being posted and how can I not when images like this are exemplary of the spectacular geology on display?

Along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

This could be one of the sides of Mount Blackadar, but my memory isn’t so good that I could be certain of this. Whatever it is, I found the patchwork of rock and green spots compelling enough that it had to join the batch of images being shared. It was also our last quick stop before making camp. This one was to collect fresh drinking water.

Wildflowers along the Alsek river in British Columbia, Canada

After we landed the rafts, I mean inflatable cruise ships, at our final stop of the day, we dragged them ashore and deflated them after removing everything else we were traveling with. One thing we couldn’t unload or deflate was the ever-present mosquitos. With no wind in sight, they hang out like grotty teenagers intent on bugging the shit out of you. Thirsty assures us that this is nothing compared to what’s up in the Arctic, somehow I’m not feeling so much better. A late chat into near darkness with Pauly, Thirsty, Keith, Caroline, and I was a great elixir that delivered us to sleep that night.