Ah, my summer first summer in the Alaskan Bush, working for the National Park Service in little known and remote Yukon-Charley National Preserve. Yukon-Charley is located east of Circle, AK and west of Eagle, AK.
On June 27th, 5 days after preliminary training with the Park Service, I boarded a small 6 seater airplane at Fairbanks International Airport. Boarding the airplane before takeoff I felt a wave of emotion roll over me. Excitement being the first and foremost emotion, with some nervousness and maybe even a dash of regret. I thought of the civilization I would be leaving behind to throw myself in a place I knew nothing about- a place I could hardly find any prior information about, with people I just met. I sent some last text messages and put my phone in airplane mode for the next 4 months.
A few days prior, I was hanging out in Denali with all my friends, drinking my fill of beer every night, kicking it with my friends and even hanging out with a beautiful, lovely girl whom worked for my friend at the Denali Morning Mountain Hostel. Now I was leaving it all behind to spend the next 112 days in the wilds of Alaska, with not a clue of what I was getting myself into.
We take our seats, I fasten my seat belt and the pilot closes the doors. Not too late to open the door back up and jump out. The engines begin humming, slowly the wheels begin turning and we begin our race down the runway. Airborne. Bye Fairbanks, Bye civilization. See you in 16 weeks.
I put my earbuds in, sit back comfortably in my chair and excitedly await the arrival to my new home. I see Fairbanks pass by the window, with its traffic that resemble toy cars from the air. I notice the small hills surrounding and enclosing the city, the dry cabin communities, the college, and the large department stores. Within 2 minutes it is all gone, minus the Chena hot springs highway and atv roads that jut out into the hills. Soon the road ends and the wilderness begins. We cruise over- barely clearing the rock of bald peaks and bare ridges, blanketed with hearty and humble tundra. Every now and then a lone cabin is visible on the mountain sides, but for the most part this is a no man’s land. This is bear and caribou country. The mountains unfold underneath us at a 360 degree view, covering the entire landscape visible from the plane. They resemble the rippled sheet of a messy bed.
The day is mostly cloudy with isolated storms here and there. The sun filters through the clouds and some hillsides are adorned with heavenly beams of light, shining on certain spots and showing vividly the color and detail of the slopes. Sheets of rain gently drape over the mountains, like a curtain hanging over a sofa or a bathrobe dragging on the floor. Unable to divert my attention, I watch intently out the window. Studying the land, the hills and the sky mountains- big cumuli and wispy fogs roll just above the plane. We fly north eastward. I gaze out the window and notice I can’t stop smiling. My body is filled with an ecstasy you can only experience when heading to a place you've never been before when you leave your comfort zone completely behind. Just at that moment of zenned out bliss, I see a giant herd of caribou, known as the 40 mile herd. hundreds and hundreds of them- resting and grazing on a tundra covered hilltop, well above tree line and just under our airplane. I look with awe and wonder at these beautiful and wild beasts enjoying the breezy mosquito free tundra. They don't seem to notice the plane- or care. Most of these creatures have never even seen a human being before.
Content.
I sit back in my seat and notice all of my worries of just a few minutes ago have escaped my being, my cares begin to be replaced with bliss and love. We enter the preserve and my eyes wander, trying to study my new home, my new park from the useful vantage point of the air, this will be the last opportunity to see a vista like this until the end of the season when I fly out of the wilds and return to the world of man, so I soak up the view like a sponge.
A large river comes into sight. The mighty Yukon.
We get closer and closer, I begin bursting at the seams with anticipation and put my face in the window, like a kid smushing is face in the school bus window. I don’t care. We fly over some ridgetops and I see a valley below with miles of rippled, barren, rocky earth as well as some cabins, a green airstrip and a dredge.
This is it! Were home!
We fly over the valley, the plane flies due east. We pass the valley with no indication of landing. "What the hell?" I think to myself. We clear a ridge top and I notice those same ripples in the earth- though now more extensive. This time I see a dirt runway, another dredge, a small gathering of cabins and an ATV road. The plane banks the east ridge and begins descending, turning northward towards the river thenn turning south towards the runway. We descend, tires hit the runway and the force of gravity takes hold.
Home sweet home.
The runway was built in the 70's out of the tilling piles left behind from the dredge. On the south side of the runway is where most planes park. There are 4 fuel tanks. 2 100 LL for the planes, one diesel for the UTV's and one unleaded for the ATV's. Next to the tanks is the Aviation shed, which really is just random storage with an attached fenced in area with a fuel locker, an ATV and a UTV. Next to that is an old dilapidated building marked "winter storage".
We begin unloading the plane of our food and belongings as well as some supplies our boss figured we'd need.
With that done, the plane takes off and all of a sudden my coworkers and I are alone.
Waiting for my boss, Irch, to get the UTV to load up our gear, I begin studying my new home, my own patch of gold rich wilderness.
The Coal Creek Valley is bordered by small mountains and ridges, just a couple thousand feet. To the north east I notice a hill adorned with a patch of spruce. The patch goes from base to ridge, weaving its way through a vibrant green forest of birch and aspen.
Irch and Bruce get the UTV’s fired up and bring them down from camp, we begin loading our gear. Eager to see my new home, Coal Creek Camp, I grudgingly wait until there is room for me. Finally, I load up the last bit of gear and hop in the vehicle. We drive up the ATV road connecting camp to the airstrip, a 3 quarter mile distance. The road is bordered by a thick forest of willow, spruce, birch, aspen, cottonwood and alder. An opening appears on the left as we climb the 20 yard hill. The opening, which is referred to as the boneyard, contains the remains of heavy equipment previously used in the valley and left to rust for eternity, or until it is buried under the earth. There is an old road grader, a hanger-like metal shed filled with lumber and historic junk, and old bucket used on the dozer, a red bucyres-erie tractor slowly sinking in the ground, with willows growing within its decaying remains, snaking between its tracks and holes in the metal of the mechanical beast. Also in the yard is another hanger-like storage shed, with half of its floor caved and containing even more historical junk. Near the end of the boneyard is a stand of dead trucks, including a camo 70’s era Chevy, an old blue jeep Willie, with the Department of the Interior seal upon its passenger door, an old giant camo dump truck, as well as a bobcat and a bulldozer.
After passing the boneyard, we round a corner and drive over a culvert with a small stream trickling down into a pool, making its way to the creek and finally, the Yukon River. We enter the camp.
Instantly, I feel as if I have been sucked up into a wormhole and dropped off 100 years prior to the present. The camp is consists of 9 rustic cabins, on the stream side is one row of two cabins, an atv trail and one cabin next to that. Perpendicular to that trail is another leading up to the public use cabin, perched on a hill that leads up to the upper road. Parallel and down slope to the public use cabin road, is a row of 5 cabins. In front of the row of cabins is the maintenance shop and the mess hall. The cabins are all pretty uniform in color and shape, although some cabins are bigger than others. They are all tan with metal sheeted roofs and metal chimneys poking out of the top. Most have windows on every side of the cabin, keeping them well-lit and breezy. The mess hall is larger than the cabins, with 5 rooms. As you walk in the main room, you notice the wood stove in the left front corner of the building, next to that a small two row book shelf, an old desk. Next to that is an old white hutch with 2 lower cupboards for storage, a table top with a rice cooker, kitchen aide, blender and microwave and two higher shelves for storage. This hutch was used during the mining days to serve workers, with an opening on the back.
Next to the hutch is an old 2 unit wood oven, now used as a counter with a make shift wood and linoleum top. To the right of the counter is a commercial 6 range stove and flat top, with two ovens below. Besides the stove is a small hallway room with a chest freezer and small shelves and cupboards with cleaning supplies. As well as our 4 separate garbage cans. One for burnable garbage, one for recyclable plastic, one for glass and one for miscellaneous trash. In the back right corner of the room is a door leading outside to the shower/laundry building.
