Expedition Journal

I feel like the group has been divided into two groups of friends. If we split up along these lines for the hiking, it would make us even more segregated. We talked about these issues for about two hours. And even though it was difficult to be so honest about our feelings, it really brought the group closer together.

I feel like they don't recognize me as much as they do other people. I feel that I have important things to say, but nobody listens to me. I thought that it was all in my head, but Vanessa noticed the same thing. We finally decided on a compromise. Rachel, Peter, and I are in one group. Alex, Vanessa, and Jess are in the other.

Low clouds hid Mt. McKinley and the other major peaks of the Alaska Range, but the shear thousand-foot-plus faces of the foothills gave us some sense of the scale of this country. Don (our driver, not the director of NOLS Alaska), his three-pound bag of M&Ms, and our team song, "Get Down Tonight," by K.C. and the Sunshine Band, kept us going. After a last taste of civilized over-indulgence--a trip to the local mega-mall--for some last-minute supplies, we bunked down on the couches and floor of a small apartment that NOLS owns in Fairbanks.

This morning, Alex, Rachel, Jessie, and one of our accompanying NOLS instructors, Cleve, headed to Bettles on an 8:15 flight on a nine-seat Wright Air Service flight. The rest of us will follow this afternoon. While the running water and cable television of the NOLS condo isn't something we're complaining about, we're all ready to leave behind the logistical hassles of a moving nine people and about 1,300 pounds of gear 1,500 miles across the most desolate state in the country and head deep into the backcountry.

July 22, 1996
Alex Perry
After dinner tonight in the NOLS apartment, we began to discuss items of interest, such as getting packed and ready for the plane, splitting up the teams, and more. There were two items discussed that really had the most impact on us. The adults were very subtly hinting that we were not doing our share of preparations, and we set about making teams.

Cleve, Deb, and John had noticed that we were letting them take over quite a bit of work. Deb and Cleve are used to taking charge as instructors. And they had sort of fallen into this role and we had clicked into autopilot. It was easy to just take it for granted and I hardly even noticed they were doing it, for which I feel both guilty and a bit ashamed, as I should not only have been helping to prepare, but also to motivate others to do the same. After they had clued us in on the way they felt about it, I feel the team has begun to get things accomplished much more efficiently.

What really caused a riot among the team was that some of the members felt uncomfortable about being paired with two other members of the team whom they knew little about. Three members who were worried about their partners got together prior to the group decision-making and decided behind the others' backs that they would stay together during the hiking section. I saw this coming and was ready to grudgingly accept it. And this would have happened if it was not for Vanessa, whom I admire for her strength and openness. She spoke right up and told everyone her qualms about this.

The discussion/argument that followed was heated but civilized and absolutely necessary to the group. But it was late when it began and the need for sleep stopped us before we came to a resolution.

I personally went to sleep quite frustrated and got up to go for a little walk by myself. Jess later joined me and she and I had quite a nice talk, but a decision was still not reached.

July 22, 1996
Rachel Flood
We woke this morning at the NOLS apartment in Fairbanks. We had to separate into two groups for our flights to Bettles. I went on the first flight. I had been looking forward to this particular flight because we were going to travel over the heart of wild Alaska. This notion, however, backfired as I could hardly stay awake. But I did manage to stay awake long enough to see two great Alaska landmarks--one natural and one man-made--the Yukon river and the Alaska pipeline.

Bettles is an airfield and really nothing else. There's a nice lodge with a small gift shop and a restaurant. That's it. It's nice to have a building to retreat into when the mosquitoes get a little nasty. There's one road in town that takes you past Sourdough Outfitters (the store), and the fire station (the trucks don't look like they've been driven in years), and the light and power company (a giant generator). Everyone has a pretty good sense of humor about the size of their town. Apparently the one teacher in town has to keep having kids so there's someone to teach. We walked around and talked to a variety of people. It's an interesting way of life up here. I don't know if I could handle it, but everyone here seems pretty happy.

It's so full of extremes. You have 24 hours of darkness in the winter and the temperatures can get as low as 70 degrees below zero. The winter is the only time when the road to civilization is open. Called the ice road, it's only passable when the cold freezes all the water that it passes over. In the summer it melts and the only way into Bettles is by plane. And then in the summer it can get into the 70s and it stays light for 24 hours.

The pilots are an interesting breed. Most live in Bettles during the summer months because that's the only time that they have business. I'm starting to wonder how we're going to adjust back to civilization after being in such a remote area.

July 22, 1996
Jessie Haviland
Bettles may possibly be the smallest and most remote town I've ever encountered. With a population of 32 and an average temperature of 21 degrees, things could not be much better. After talking to some locals, we moved all our gear into two rinky-dink plywood huts for the night--not your average luxurious Motel 6 accommodations. They're more like 4-by-4 playhouses that my sister and I built back home. However, we can't complain. It was nice of the folks at Brooks Range Aviation to give us a roof over our heads.

After unpacking we stopped at the fire station, in a town about as long as two football fields. We had a great time talking with the mayor (who also happens to be the park ranger), electric city manager, fireman, and pilot--while talking to only three people.

Being in a land inhabited by so few people has given me a perspective that I've never had. I close my eyes and try to imagine living here and wonder how drastically this environment would change me and my perspective on life. So with new adventures yet to come, good night to the land where the sun stays up with you through the night.

"It is not doing the thing we like to do, But liking the thing we have to do, That makes life a blessing." -- Goethe

Right now I'm in Bettles Lodge about to have breakfast. Everyone here is so nice. I can't imagine what it would be like to live here for my whole life. I feel so out of touch with civilization. It's a cute little town--it makes the town in Northern Exposure look like a city.

July 23, 1996
Alex Perry
We're getting ready to take a float plane out to Summit Lake later this afternoon. After a few days of discussion, we've finally decided on our hiking teams and I think that it's a good combination of having people go with people who know each other and those who don't. Peter, Bria, and Rachel are going with Deb and John. Jess, Vanessa, and I are going to go with Cleve.

It's hard to imagine that we're finally going to get out into the wilderness. Our extended journey up here is making us realize how far from civilization we are. In a few hours we're going to be even farther, actually out of range of the satellite phone for the first week of the trip. So we'll be off-line until the 30th. But we'll be back in touch then.