We set out on the Dalton highway, a mainly dirt highway with large potholes and frost heaves, as well as large semis barreling past you. We drove on this road for about 8 hours, crossing over the arctic circle and stopping for dinner at a truck stop. There we met a trucker named Dan who wore a shirt that had written on it: “Friends help you move, but brothers help you move a body.” He was chill though. We eventually reached the Dietrich river which we would cross to begin our journey. We were to backpack 10 miles into the Brooks range, an almost untouched mountain range in the Gates of The Arctic National park. There were no trails and we had to bush wack over hills and across freezing rivers formed from snow runoff. Due to this area being virtually untouched by man, plants flourished and mosses grew on the forest floor so thick it was as if you were walking on pillows. I shot this photo at one of our campsites. There was never a moment in which we couldn’t enjoy the beautiful landscape as the sun never set on the last frontier. #alaska #arctic #brooksrange
The gang's all here.
From the lake we cut uphill through the dense taiga, getting whipped by shrubs, bouncing on spongey moss, picking blueberries and stumbling into the bog. The air is moist and smells like Labrador tea. Eventually we break out above the treeline and set up camp on a flat meadow near the crest. The storms come in and we drink cocoa under a big blue tarp held up with hiking poles.