July 31, 2023

~8 miles 

I dream that my best friend picks me up from the Brooks Range and takes me to Poundland, the UK equivalent of Dollar Tree. There I buy everything I’m missing on this trip and am angry at myself for forgetting: waterproof gloves, long pants, an extra set of leggings, sleep socks, an actually functional rain jacket. She drops me back off at the base of a mountain and I’m on my way. “Now I’m ready to hike the Brooks Range!” I think happily as I wake up. I am then profoundly disappointed that I do not actually have these things. But I am dry, and I have plenty of time for chill coffee. I feel rested and already in such a good mental state compared to yesterday. 

I have oatmeal with almonds and a large cup of coffee for breakfast. I’ve set my alarm for early enough that I can really savor it. Eventually everyone starts moving and I begin packing up. The morale is pretty good, tentatively optimistic after yesterday. It’s still cloudy, but there’s no fog and we can actually see the surrounding hills.

We climb steeply up onto a plateau that feels totally different from anything we’ve seen. There are rocks, but not crazy ones like yesterday, and there’s moss. “Chunks, Now With Moss!” Carrot says by way of describing the vibe of the shelf as we cross it. We’re all walking together and chatting amiably as we contour around the side of a mountain. There’s actually a patch of blue in the sky. I think it’s going to be a good day.

Once we reach the edge of the shelf, we look out onto the surrounding edges and look at our map. There’s a steep hill ahead of us that we think is our line until we get closer and it turns out to be not where we were planning on going. But comparing it to the slope angle shading of our planned route, it looks better. So we aim in the direction of the steep, vaguely volcanic looking slope directly ahead and across the valley from us.

We descend via a steep but manageable shale slide. At one point I fall down and slide on my butt, which turns out to be a mistake for my very thin rain pants and there are two little holes in the seat of the pants now. Shoot. I should have thought that through. At the base of the descent there’s a creek where we fill up water and have a little snack. Then we cross it and start up the base of the very steep climb. 

There’s moss at first, then it turns into small scree, but the good kind that you can actually walk on and that sinks in with every step. I engage 100-step mode and don’t really turn it off for the next couple of hours. Carrot spots a bear print at one point. Someone went up here looking for a snack! If they can do it, why not us? 

We reach a plateau at the top of the first shale-y climb and take a breather, consult our map again. We still have some climbing to get to the top of the ridge. We drink water, take deep breaths, and go for it. As we go, DJ Carrot puts on “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus. Chelsea starts belting it and dancing a little as she walks up. Yeah, I’m definitely loving the vibe today. 

It is rather a climb, but it’s exhilarating because there are actual views and the walking is pretty good. It gets pretty steep at one point and I abandon the 100 steps in favor of just following Chelsea. We stop at a rock and have a snack. I’m feeling like I really need some salt, so I open my pack and take out my crushed chips—chip drink! I start crunching them. Then I notice my pack starting to tip over. Instinctually, I reach out to stop it, and some chips go flying.

The other three exclaim, seeing it, “No!” and “Not the chip drink!” It’s all over the rocks. I’m not letting it go to waste. I set about picking up the little pieces one by one and putting them in my mouth.

We continue up, the steep bit leveling out a little and the climb continuing until we reach a nice ridge. It is rocky, but the steps are small and manageable. The mist is rolling around us, but we can still see. It’s magnificent up here. The surrounding peaks, the movement of clouds, the green valleys in the distance. We walk across the ridge and follow it as it descends, meeting back up with our track and spitting us out into this little bowl with an small glacier off to our left. 

To descend to our lunch spot and therefore the chiller valley we’re aiming for, we have to follow a creek covered in a shitty snow bridge. We cling to the rocks to the right of it. It’s a tough descent, just kind of long and hard on the knees. My shoes get filled with rocks and I fall a couple of times. “This creek sucks!” Carrot declares, a callback to the “Shoes” video of early 2000s fame. But finally we reach the bottom. 

It’s a really pretty meadow once the shale levels out and the grass begins again. There are rocks strewn here and there and mossy earth between. It’s our lunch spot! We put our things down with relief, and then take some of our wet gear and drape it across rocks and dry moss patches to dry. For a brief, glorious moment, the sun comes out. We all stand in grateful awe of it as it hits our faces and illuminates this valley world. Sweet orb! We appreciate thee!

We have another short climb after lunch, but it’s not too bad and it puts us in this smooth, beautiful world of sloping mountainsides strewn with lichen, loss, and grass. In the distance we can see the lake we were aiming for yesterday and yeah, there is no world in which we could have made it there. On this green side of the slope the walking is so chill. I think after yesterday we’re all nervous about terrain, but this is magisterial. You can just walk. What a revelation! No scrambling or struggling, just walking forward. And the sun comes out again! It illuminates a caribou shed so that it shimmers in the light. 

Despite the amazing terrain, I still roll my ankle a couple of times, probably because I’m overconfident in and have forgotten that we’re still hiking cross country so there are all kinds of hidden holes and mossy hazards. I drink some water and resolve to watch my step. 

Soon we’re at the floor of a wide, green valley. A creek threads its way through a bog. “We’re back in the bog!” Chelsea says.

“God’s country,” replies Gahl. 

“God’s bog.”

We decide that we are the People of the Bog. Back to the tussocks and different kind of difficult walking. We cross one half of the floor of the valley and reach a creek. It’s pretty chill, but Carrot still teaches us the two-person crossing method you can use when it’s an intense current: the taller person is in front and faces upriver, while the shorter person stands behind, holds the first person’s pack, and the two step together across. I go with Chelsea. It feels kind of weird but it’s good to learn.

We have a grassy ramp of a climb. Carrot says this is what Skurka calls the few green patches in the Sierra that are good walking—“grassy ramps.” It’s an uphill, but it’s bog that turns into soft grass so it’s comfy on the feet. As we climb the views get more magnificent. There are rocks that we think might be bears but turn out to just be rocks. There are towering peaks and glittering green valleys. It’s still just the littlest bit sunny. 

We finish the last of our grassy ramp climbing and are met with another drainage that has its own unique character. A tiny stream flows downhill on the side of a rocky slope, and grass begins not far below us again. We sit by the creek for a minute and filter water, then continue down the gentle grassy world, across another small trickle, and up a hill. 

I come upon the other three consulting the map. I’d thought that we were going to have a massive climb from the way they were talking about these inclines between two “triangle bois,” as in very sharp mountains, but I read the map wrong and that’s a tomorrow challenge. Tonight all we have is this smooth descent, the crossing of a dry creek bed, and a short hill. 

At the top of said short hill we can see the goal we’ve been working towards: a huge green valley with a meandering braided river cutting through it. We take a look at the land and try to decide where to head for camp. We spot a flat-looking place down to the right. It turns out to be so lovely, the softest hug of a tundra. We go to get water in the stream and then set up our tents.

As we’re sitting together cooking dinner, the sun comes out full blast. We react like people who haven’t seen the sun in years. We stare at it, put our arms up, cheer. Yes, sweet orb! Thank you for your goodness! The mood is so nice sitting around the proverbial dinner table. We talk about hikes we’ve done and would like to do. Carrot tells us about the Brooks Traverse, which to me sounds excruciating. I think we’re all feeling immensely grateful to Carrot for taking us out here and showing us this special place. Who else would we have come with, and where else would we learn these skills? Sure, there have been some sketchy moments and suffering, but it’s an amazing opportunity and I’m so happy to be here with these kind, patient, badass women. 

The sun is shining and warming my tent when I lie down to sleep just before 9:00. It feels like a greenhouse. Like the Brooks Range is hugging me, saying, look at what you can handle. What a wild place.