Hidden in Plain Sight
Packrafting the Brooks Range
By Dave Weimer
The South Pole Traverse
...Delivering 100,000 gallons of fuel across Antarctica...
Dr Jones
...I've been fortunate in my life to have had many adventures, some fun, some not so fun...
An Egyptian Bargain
...Just minutes after hitting the tarmac at Egypt's international airport in Cairo - the haggling begins...
Trapped in the Barrier Range
...I'm not too thrilled about wielding a metal shovel while lightning is cracking over head but I've got little choice...
Summer Sled Dogs
...The desire to pull was in the dog’s blood and they couldn't forget what they were born to do...
"HEEEY BEAR, HEEEEY BEAR, HEEEY BEAR!"
Galen started yelling as well. As a NOLS instructor, Galen has tons of Alaskan experience and has had many bear encounters- but never this close.
We couldn't see the griz because we'd put the fly on the tent just an hour earlier, but we could hear the rapid breathing of a very excited animal just inches from the thin fabric.
This was a stare down I did not want to have.
We continued yelling but the bear lingered for an unsettling amount of time. We listened in horror as the brute veered away a few yards, then turned and charged the tent.
This was my fourth trip to Alaska's Brooks Range and the first time I hadn't brought a gun.
"WHERE'S THE BEAR SPRAY?!"
Galen reached down to the foot of the tent, found the spray, and promptly handed it to me, as if to say, "I ain't going out there!" True, the spray inside the tent wasn't going to help us much, unless we wanted to mace ourselves, but I unclipped the safety tab anyway because the idea of the beast ripping through the tent seemed like a very real possibility.
After a few heart-stopping seconds, the sounds of the bear ceased and I cautiously poked my head out of the tent while continuing to yell at the top of my lungs. Galen shouted, "Look!" as he pointed in the direction of two golden grizzlies, one big, one small. The sow and cub fled with purpose down the valley and out of view.
The experience left us numb. Our senses reeled with the after affects of the adrenaline dump. At the time, I thought it was the bear who'd hit me in the back, but after some discussion I realized it was more likely Galen accidentally hammerfisting me when he was rudely awakened by the sounds of the bear approaching.
We didn't have any food in the tent and we followed all the bear country etiquette. We figured the grizzlies came over the hill and stumbled unexpectedly upon our big blue tent. The sow must have assumed it was a threat to her cub, and then charged.
I'd screamed so hard during the incident that I lost my voice, which left me feeling more than vulnerable. It was only day three of a 14 day trip and we were sure to see an abundance of bears. What was I going to do if we had another encounter? Clap? I can’t even whistle!
We were camped in the heart of the Arrigetch Peaks, an area known for its impressive collection of granite towers, minarets, and spires. The original inhabitants, the ancient Nunamiut Eskimos, called the mountains 'Arigaruit' which means 'fingers of the hand extended'.
To access the Arrigetch we took a flight from Fairbanks to the remote bush community of Bettles- population 39. From there we took another 45 minute flight and landed on Takahula Lake situated in the center of a massive 8.5 million acre preserve known as the Gates of the Arctic National Park. The area is one of the most remote spots in North America and could best be described as 'wilderness on crack'.
We'd scrambled over the high passes and around peaks with names like Battleship, Shot Tower, and Xanadu. The area, 60 miles above the Arctic Circle, was just as grand as Yosemite, minus the crowds and RV's.
At the pass heading to the Awlinyak
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