Solo backpacking in remote wilderness is an inspiring, mystical and spiritual experience for me. Totally alone, wandering through immense valleys surrounded by towering peaks fills me with joy and elation. It's the lack of roads and human trails that create a sense of freedom like nothing I've ever experienced before. Wilderness is nature as it was created, unspoiled by human development. I'm limited only by how much food I can carry and rivers that are too deep and fast for me to cross.
Trekking alone in the wilderness is risky for even the most experienced wilderness hiker. You must be realistic about your actual abilities and leave your ego at home. You can face life-threatening circumstances and must be totally self sufficient, because there is no help available.
In June, I explored an area of the Porcupine Caribou herd's wintering grounds in the Richardson Mountains north of the Arctic Circle in the Yukon. The herd was well on its way migrating some 800 miles to their calving grounds in Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska.
I knew where I would begin my trek in the Richardson Mountains, but my route was open to change, depending on the depth and flow of rivers I'd encounter along the way. I parked my pickup in a gravel pit off Dempster Highway, the haul road to Inuvik, Northwest Territories, and took off following a ridge leading west. I headed toward a stream, which would be my source of water that night. Immediately I saw a profusion of color on the tundra from many species of Arctic flowers. I found evidence of the caribou herd by their scattered bones, heads with antlers chewed and fur, knowing predators like wolves and bears were not far away. Only a few hours into my trek I spotted a pair of beautiful red foxes and whipped out my camera hoping to get a picture. To my utter amazement the couple did not run away, but came closer and closer. The male proceeded to stalk me in the manner I've seen animals stalk prey, while the little female stayed at a distance. He followed me with his head down, but when I turned around, he would stop. I never felt in any danger, because he never gave signals he would attack. If they were rabid, I felt I could fend them off with my trekking poles. This unique experience was the highlight of my animal encounters, and I loved every moment interacting with them. Eventually, the pair stopped following me and left me to my travels. I can only think they had a den with kits nearby and wanted to make sure I would not endanger them.
About the time I reached a suitable place to spend the night, thick clouds began to blow in over the mountains. I boiled water from the stream and cooked my dehydrated meal and drank a satisfying cup of hot chocolate. It was getting colder, and I snuggled in my sleeping bag and slept soundly after so many hours of walking. I woke up to a downpour and watched the water lap around the edges of my tent. I had no pressure to move on in the deluge, because I'm retired with no rigid time schedule. I spent the rainy times reading one of my favorite books, "Merle's Door, Lessons from a Freethinking Dog" by Ted Kerasote. It is a true story of a dog rescued in the canyons of Utah and his life with Ted Kerasote near the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Park.
Despite much rain, I managed to trek five days in the Richardson Mountains and experience the best and the worst of wilderness hiking. My tent and parts of my sleeping bag got soaked. Hypothermia is a real danger and getting wet is to be avoided at all costs. I have good rain gear and kept my clothes dry, and my wet down bag still kept me warm. Because of the wind, rain and cold there were no mosquitoes! At times the clouds came down to the mountains, and while trekking along a high ridge I couldn't see where I was going in the clouds and had to stop and make camp. When the clouds lifted, I continued my journey. I experienced more cold, rainy days, but when the sun shone, I enjoyed its warmth more than ever on my shoulders. Extreme weather changes are common in mountains, and I've climbed to a high pass on a sunny day and woken the next morning buried in snow.
The storms; calm, sunny days; raging, swollen rivers; and encountering wild animals, if you're lucky, are all part of the wilderness experience. Wilderness restores my soul. The water is pure and the air is free of pollution. Wilderness is a gift to be protected for future generations to enjoy and explore.