Reflections on the Arctic #6

This morning, as the weather slipped into a 36 degree gray day with a 20mph wind and light rain, I got to thinking about some of our days in the Arctic Refuge. We only had 2 occasions on the Canning River where the weather was a genuine issue. Both of them occurred as we approached the Beaufort Sea. Now, reason would say that this was likely because of the affect of the ocean but after 8 or 9 days we were also getting closer to winter very rapidly.

At the time it didn't really appear to me that this was such a big deal but looking back with today's conditions in my face, I found myself reevaluating the conditions up there. On about day eight when we were to get up, it was raining fairly hard and blowing a steady 30mph with the temperature slightly above freezing. In fact, the low lying hills just above the alluvial plain where we camped had a noticeable covering of snow. We decided to sit tight for the day and wait for better weather. Sitting tight meant just laying in the tent all day and attempting to read. I found I was amazingly good at actually half sleeping most of the time and I rather enjoyed the pure pleasure of the lofty down bag (down is largely prohibited in the Arctic--once wet, you die).

At one point, and I don't even remember the time of day as it was still mostly light all the time, Ian approached the tent Craig and I were lounging in, and quietly but intently announced the presence of a number of bull Caribou passing just to the east of camp. We, great hunters and all, hardly stirred because we were lost in the comfort of the tent. It was truly uncomfortable outside and we thought a day of uninterrupted rest was appropriate. The caribou slipped away unmolested.

What occurs to me now is the thought of having to sit tight on the tundra for a week and what it would have meant. One day, no problem, but if those conditions were to have persisted, which they can do there, life would have taken a sudden and dramatic change. Now its not that we were not prepared to deal with it, but the fun factor would have diminished. To be way the hell in the middle of nowhere and have to cope, and probably move because we had to get to the pick up miles away, might have changed my spoiled view of the delightful arctic.

Today I sit by the old radiating pot bellied stove in Wisconsin. The wind howls outside and I am very comfortable. Up there it is very hard to even find a small twig. We had only two fires on the trip and the only real one was on day two. We had plenty of food and 125 lbs of meat but if the plane could not land, the lounging would have become monotonous and we cantankerous.

Ian did remind me that it was good we had experienced the other side of the Refuge, the side that is not always a delightful holiday on the Canning----reality is a good thing.