A Summer in the Wilderness

I spent the summer of 2024 guiding multi-day wilderness trips throughout Alaska. Throughout the summer, I guided kayaking, backpacking, and canoe trips in Lake Clark, Katmai, Denali, Gates of the Arctic National Parks and the Noatak Preserve and these ranged from four to twelve days long. I chose this position for the unique opportunity to engage others in discussions around the important connections between people and place in Alaska through the forums of public education, outreach, and engagement and to do this with land managers and local communities.

This summer was not just about facilitating cush vacations for out-of-state-residents. Rather, this summer offered a deeper understanding of the intricate relationships that exist between humans and nature, not just for me, but for those I was guiding too.  

I was fortunate to work in the glaciated valleys and mountains of Alaska’s southwest, interior, and north that provide habitat for a range of wildlife: Sockeye Salmon, Arctic Grayling, Ptarmigan, Golden-crowned Sparrows, Greater Yellowlegs, Arctic Terns, Red Foxes, Brown Bears, Caribou, Dall Sheep, Musk Ox, and so much more. In the areas I was working, summer conditions ranged from wet and stormy with temperatures in the thirties and wind gusts up to seventy miles per hour, to warm and sunny. During my travels, we also often encountered notable flora, including blueberries, nagoonberries, cranberries, crowberries, devil’s club, and black spruce. Nagoonberries grow in meadows and bogs and the word derives from the Tlingit word neigóon, or ‘jewel.’ Many of the plants guests learned about and that we observed are traditional foods used frequently for nutritional and medicinal purposes.

My experiences leading trips around Alaska’s Alaska Range, Brooks Range, and especially Lake Clark and Katmai in the southwest, were colorful and included both unanticipated and longed-for moments. Challenges included navigating off-trail passes in white-out conditions, managing risk with variable weather, and ensuring safety across cultural and linguistic differences. Guests had a wide range of desires: from adrenaline-packed-adventure to quiet solitude and more naturalist-based learning.  Additionally, many of the areas we traveled in required at least one, if not multiple, small aircraft flights back to Anchorage in the event of an emergency. I always worked with a co-guide and many lasting friendships have blossomed from these shared experiences in the wilderness.  Below are some of my favorite and most iconic photos that were captured during wilderness expeditions across Alaska. A caption accompanies each photograph. 

A photo taken from a ridge shows two tall snowy peaks poking up behind a rocky ridge. The mountains are huge, with faces stretching for thousands of vertical feet.Photo 1: A view of the tallest mountain in North America, Denali, at 20,310 feet. The second tallest mountain in the foreground is eight miles closer. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A brightly lit view of tall purple lupine flowers obscures a horizon of tall snowy mountains across a body of water.Photo 2: Lupine blooming in early July. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A photo of a yellow float plane resting besides the rocky shore of a crystal blue alpine lake. A tall rocky mountain stretches up behind it.Photo 3: A Beaver aircraft lands on Upper Twin Lake in Lake Clark. The majority of these planes were built in the mid-1900s, between 1947 and 1967. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A photo collage of a little white bird gliding in place against a grey sky and a photo of a duck swimming in the midst of clear blue water.Photo 4: A hovering Arctic Tern on the left and a Harlequin Duck at Lower Twin Lake on the right. Photos courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A large, blonde grizzly bear sleeps on a vegetated bluff in front of a river, resting its head on its front paws, and staring straight at the onlooker and camera.Photo 5: A grizzly rests on a creek’s bluff before returning to fish for sockeye salmon in late July in Katmai National Preserve, a region famous for its brown bears. Photo courtesy of Carson Galloway, shared with permission.

A young Grizzly bear pounces forward to catch a Sockeye Salmon swimming in the creek. The bear splashes water and droplets surround its entire body in all of the action.Photo 6:  A grizzly pounces to catch a salmon. Grizzly bears can eat up to 160,000 calories of fish per day, or around 40 fish in preparation for the winter ahead. Photo courtesy of Carson Galloway, shared with permission.

A bear stares straight ahead at the camera while standing in a creek, after successfully catching a salmon. Pieces of bloodly salmon can be seen on its upper lip and water droplets from the bear's shake-off surround the bear's face.Photo 7: My favorite photo, captured by guest Carson, of a bear mid-shake and post-dinner. There are some salmon remains on its upper lip. Photo courtesy of Carson Galloway, shared with permission.

A blonde Grizzly bear saunters forward through the flat tundra of Katmia in the photo's foreground. Lush green mountains make up the background.Photo 8: A bear saunters past us as we kneel patiently and sit still. Photo courtesy of Carson Galloway, shared with permission.

A colorful campground in the distance is situated next to a bright blue lake in Katmai. The reds, yellows, and blues of the tents contrast greatly with the verdant mountains in the background.Photo 9: The colorful camp that we left behind to explore the flora and fauna of Katmai National Preserve. The camp is surrounded by an electric bear fence, which is a stipulation required and regulated by the National Park Service. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

Gear and equipment is splayed out across four bunk beds in one of Guideland's 'glamping' canvas tents.Photo 10: “Guideland.” If we did not return to Anchorage between work trips, we’d stay in Port Alsworth for layover days. There, we’d stay in this bunkhouse, shower, and do laundry. Photos courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A red fox looks onward at the passing hikers in the middle of expansive, green foothills. The fox's black spots on its paws blend in well with the rocky ground.Photo 11: A curious red fox joins us while we take a packs-off break. Photos courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

Bright, round, and plump blueberries are tucked underneath the plant's green leaves, nearly hidden from sight and inches above the ground.Photo 12 (below) Bog blueberries ripening in late August in Lake Clark. Photos courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A meadow of fuschia-colored Fireweed flowers spans the entire foreground and mountains are covered in grey clouds in the distance.Photo 13 (below): Fireweed in full bloom in late August in Lake Clark National Park. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

Five pawprints of a bear form depressions in grey silt on the banks of the Alatna river.Photo 14 (below): Grizzly bear tracks along the Alatna River. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

A golden sun sets behind a distant mountain and a ray of sunshine stretches across the Noatak River and a meadow in the foreground, to where the viewer stands. Scattered clouds are clearing and opening up a blue sky.Photo 15 (left below): Sunset along the Noatak River in the Brooks Range. The headwaters of this river have archeological sites with stone artifacts and tools and preserved fauna that are dated 4,000 to 6,000 years. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

Four bright blue canoes sit on the edge of the riverbank and are fully packed with colorful dry bags, bear drums, clothing, and food.Photo 16 (right below): The fleet of SOAR boats we used to travel an eighty-three mile stretch of the Noatak River. Each boat can carry up to one thousand pounds. Photo courtesy of Eliza Perkins, shared with permission.

Overall, this summer experience brought many opportunities to practice observation skills and lean into our collective curiosities about the surrounding environment. It was a chance to get my hands and feet dirty in the field, make connections to my Spring independent study course curriculum, and absorb new knowledge through tactile learning. It was also a way to promote environmental responsibility, respect, and cultural humility; embrace storytelling; and develop relationships across all of our varied backgrounds. For all of this, I am grateful.