After years working for backcountry trail crews, Benjamin Alva Polley had a healthy respect for the whims of the wilderness. But when he and his wife headed to Alaska’s Brooks Range – the most remote frontier – fear crept in
Silence washed over me as the float plane buzzed away, leaving us alone. I turned around and saw fresh grizzly and moose tracks the size of dinner plates imprinted in the mud. Panic tiptoed in, but it didn’t reign. I tried not to dwell on it, taking a deep breath and sinking into the beauty rioting everywhere. I didn’t want my wife to know I was intimidated.
We were about to hike and packraft on our honeymoon in a remote Alaska wilderness. The bush pilot had just dropped the two of us off in the Brooks Range, a 700-mile mountain range arcing the width of northern Alaska. We had packrafts (lightweight, inflatable kayaks), all-weather gear and food – a load of about 70lb each, nearly half our body weight. We had rented a satellite phone, the only way to contact the rest of the world for emergencies, and I’d jotted a list of Alaskan contacts on paper if we needed rescuing. The consequences if something went wrong were mind-boggling.
Continue reading… After years working for backcountry trail crews, Benjamin Alva Polley had a healthy respect for the whims of the wilderness. But when he and his wife headed to Alaska’s Brooks Range – the most remote frontier – fear crept inSilence washed over me as the float plane buzzed away, leaving us alone. I turned around and saw fresh grizzly and moose tracks the size of dinner plates imprinted in the mud. Panic tiptoed in, but it didn’t reign. I tried not to dwell on it, taking a deep breath and sinking into the beauty rioting everywhere. I didn’t want my wife to know I was intimidated.We were about to hike and packraft on our honeymoon in a remote Alaska wilderness. The bush pilot had just dropped the two of us off in the Brooks Range, a 700-mile mountain range arcing the width of northern Alaska. We had packrafts (lightweight, inflatable kayaks), all-weather gear and food – a load of about 70lb each, nearly half our body weight. We had rented a satellite phone, the only way to contact the rest of the world for emergencies, and I’d jotted a list of Alaskan contacts on paper if we needed rescuing. The consequences if something went wrong were mind-boggling. Continue reading… Travel, Alaska, US news, Life and style, Wildlife holidays, Walking, Walking holidays, Camping holidays
