COLVILLE RIVER, ALASKA– The science has reached the home stretch now, as has the entire summer’s field effort. We got a break in the cloudy weather last night, and sat around a fire labeling sample bags and weighing/organizing samples. Today, another long day of sampling, and tomorrow, we only need to execute some exploratory sampling before packing up and floating down for the pick-up. Yeehaw!

Greta, Ty, and Ben organizing, weighing, and labeling samples next to the fire.

Journal Entry 17: Sunday, August 10, 2008

Umiat!

We awoke to a headwind several days ago and the last section of floating down to Umiat – which we anticipated to be the metaphoric victory lap of the trip – was, in fact, just another lap.

We landed and deflated the raft at Umiat, a remote logistics outpost with a couple dozen workers, most from Ukpeagvik Inupiat Corporation (UIC). Greta and Ben walked the half-mile from the river to the camp, and they returned with a truck driven by an Inupiat guy I knew from my high school days in Fairbanks.

Not exactly.

As before, in the village of Noatak, we are again camped at the end of the runway in Umiat. Abe Stein and the rest of the small crew at Umiat have been very welcoming, allowing us to hang out in heated buildings and utilize the internet connection and solitary phone. On a walk one morning, Greta and I saw a large, lone black wolf, purportedly the Alpha of the pack.

Umiat is a fitting end to our journey, because the old aerial photographs that we’re using to guide our sampling were actually flown out of Umiat in the late 1940’s. Back in those days, Umiat was a Navy base used as a staging ground for geologic reconnaissance and resource exploration. Not too much has changed. Again, the U.S. is at war, and again there is considerable oil and natural gas exploration staged out of Umiat. Now, though, the logistics are being run by an Inupiat outfit (UIC), instead of the military. Amazingly, a dozen or so of the old military Quonset huts still remain here, and the old two-storey tower near the runway has a fresh coat of paint.

I think this plane is called a “skyvan,” and you can see why. Also note the old (but operational) Umiat runway control tower, next to the “Wien” (an old name in Alaskan aviation) Quonset hut.

These expeditions seems to end in stages, making it hard to clearly delineate a point in time when we can all breathe a sigh of relief. One sigh comes when the sampling is complete, one when the boating is complete, one when the flying is complete, and so on and so forth. Our work won’t truly be done until we have some substantial scientific figures and can make those available to a broader audience. So, at the end of each stage is a small sigh of satisfaction and a recognition of the road that lies ahead. At least this next stage will put an end to the persistent food and (now) beer fantasies!

Joking aside, it is Day 18, and we are down to <2/3 liter of fuel and a few freeze dried meals, so the clock is ticking. Umiat is stocked with food, but lunch is $40 and dinner is $60, so hunger is knocking on the door. We had the option to fly out from any gravel bar on the river, and in spite of the outrageous cost of food, we are grateful for the safety net.

NOATAK RIVER, BROOKS RANGE, ALASKA– Yesterday we floated through Noatak Canyon, but not before stopping on several occasions to relocate and rephotograph old Philip Smith photos. I added these excursions partly out of curiosity, but partly to extend the record of vegetation further into the past than the 1940’s photos permitted. The great advantage nowadays is that you can use Google Earth to find the general location of the old photos, saving hours and miles of guesswork in the field. Alas, some stumbling around is still unavoidable, particularly when the landscape has changed so profoundly in the intervening 97 years since the original photos were taken. The most obvious change that we saw upon relocating the old photos is a shift from low-growing alpine vegetation to tall shrubs.

Philip Smith photo from 1911, and my photo from the same location, yesterday.

The last repeated photo was actually a 360 degree panorama, and upon finishing it and reentering the boats, a voice came from the shore. He seemed an apparition at first, with grey pants blending into grey river stones, and a green jacket blending into the shrubs on the bank. We hadn’t seen another person since the bush pilot dropped us 10 days earlier, so we were unaccustomed to hearing any voice outside that of our party. As our brains slowly regained functionality, the obvious question punctuated our collective inner monologue: “Where did this guy come from?”

Ricky sitting in his homemade chair, underneath his guiding light.

Ricky Ashby has a cabin where a clearwater creek enters the Noatak River. It just so happens that the old Philip Smith photo is practically in his backyard, given the broad definition of “backyard” used by those living remotely. He noticed our incompetence at fishing, and directed us to the good fishing hole down near his cabin and the creek. We made our way downriver in the boats, and after about fifty unsuccessful casts, Mark relinquished the pole to Ricky, who landed an Arctic char on his second cast. But not before Greta broke her pole on a stuck lure, so I couldn’t help chuckling at how well we were representing white man ineptitude in the wilderness. Ricky had us for dinner, told us his story, asked of ours, and then we sauna-ed and swam in the river.

It is presently a beautiful and breezy morning on the shores of the Noatak, and with the science now complete, I can relax a bit and enjoy the last couple days of the trip.

ON THE WATER, NOATAK RIVER, BROOKS RANGE, ALASKA– Long, hot days on the river. We finished the sampling a couple days ago, and yesterday boated the remainder of the Nimiuktuk River, eventually reaching the confluence with the Noatak River. With our precious science bounty aboard, you can be sure that we are boating conservatively, which proved challenging on the heavily braided and obstacle-strewn Seagull Creek and Nimiuktuk River.

Now on the Noatak River, there are fewer channel decisions and fewer obstacles to avoid, so we switched from two people canoeing each boat to one rowing and one resting in each boat (I am resting at the moment). This allows us to move downriver for about 10 hours a day, which is critical to stay on schedule and still leave time for repeat photography downstream.

Looking back at the hail storm that hammered us for 5 minutes.

Explorer Philip Smith descended the Noatak River in 1911, leading a United States Geological Survey (USGS) party mapping the terrain and geology of the region. At the time, the USGS party would’ve been one of the first white man parties in the area, preceded only by miners, and of course, Native Alaskans. Armed with prints from Smith’s expedition, we are seeking to relocate and “repeat” a number of his photos.