Reflecting on the Arctic

A couple of weeks ago I returned from the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska and couldn't help but think I had a writing opportunity. It was well into the fall up there and the country that is frequently referred to as a "wasteland" was covered with color and roaming wildlife. The photo attached was taken at Plunge Creek on the edge of the north slope of the Brooks Range. Ian, our son, is taking in the view looking south up the Canning River. This is the point where we landed in the Beaver and would embark on a journey down the river in pursuit of wild fish and caribou.

I recall spending many hours just looking at the expansive setting, imagining I was standing on the banks of the Missouri River in 1820. There is literally no signs of humans in the Refuge. Every effort has been made to retain the wildness that can literally not be found anywhere else. Ian reminded me on numerous occasions that most of the animals there probably have never seen humans. He thought maybe 20 people a year float the Canning. We landed on a gravel bar of the Canning River on a spot that on approach did not really look like it was made for an airplane of any ilk. We were left to our own devices for a period of 10 days.

One of the interesting aspects of this trip is that it is so far away from any real human outpost. What I mean is, in order to get here we had to drive 230 miles or so up the haul road, also called the Dalton highway, which is the road to the Prudhoe Bay oil fields, to a little settlement called Coldfoot. From there we took the Beaver to The Canning River, another 230 miles or so. Now mind you, this is the same distance as it is from my home in Amherst Wisconsin to Omaha Nebraska. The haul road was constructed entirely to serve the oil fields and runs parallel to the pipeline. What occurred to me is that once the oil field plays out (It started at 2 million barrels a day and is now running about 600,000/bl/d) there will be no reason for the haul road and it will close. At that point getting to the Canning will be one very big ordeal. The visitation to the Refuge will radically diminish. I felt lucky to be there. The opportunity will not be a forever thing for the average person. (To be edited and continued)