Pete's Trail?

Today I headed out to explore a new part of Tthenaago. I had heard of "Pete's Trail", a route leading from the old abandoned airfield up to a knoll about halfway between the peak and the cliffs.

After a quick lunch I headed down to the water and loaded up my raft. I paddled out to the main channel and let the current take me. I wasn't entirely sure where the path to the airfield was, but had been told to keep an eye out for a clearing along the riverbank.

I stayed fairly close to shore as I searched for the clearing, but not too close - a wise choice, as it turned out, because as I floated I heard a crash behind me. Over my shoulder I saw a half-dozen trees tumble into the water as the bank crumbled away beneath them. Erosion is a constant factor alongside a river that rises and falls as much as the South Nahanni, and is definetly something to keep in mind when you paddle close to shore.

Before long I picked out the clearing and pulled in to a snug little cove. The airfield was about 50 meters back from the water, and really isn't much to look at. Years ago Parks Canada had a field office there, but after a major rockslide they decided that living in the shadow of an unstable mountain wasn't really a great idea. They packed up and moved to Fort Simpson instead.

Today the airfield is mostly overgrown, and the only thing of note out there was the network of trails made by the Wood Buffalo as they went about their business.

The next order of business was finding the path up to the knoll, but after about 20 minutes of scouring the forest's edge I found what seemed to be the trail. "Trail" is something of a generous term as it is intensely overgrown, but I was able to find my way well enough.

The day was hot, pushing 30C, and the humidity hinted at the storms forecast later in the week. The mosquitos were intense, but I also made my acquaintence with what the locals call 'Bulldogs" - large horseflies that seem to exist for no other reason than to torment anyone who wants to be outside. About the size of a nickel, they sound like a helicopter when they buzz past your ear and take noticable chunks from your arm every time they bite you. I finally caved and put on my bug net -- drowning in sweat was a small price to pay for some measure of protection from their attacks.

Things improved as I got moving. The forest was alive with birdsong, and every so often a breeze would briefly clear my insect entourage. The sunlight filtered down through the trees, and everywhere I looked was lush and green.

The trail took a rambling route up hillocks and down through gullies, but it was in bad shape and it often vanished in the undergrowth. I was usually able to figure out where it had gone, but after about two hours I crossed a little creek and couldn't find any trace of it. I searched and searched, but in every direction all I got was a face full of tree. I decided to call it a day -- I was packed light, and didn't want to spend the rest of the evening blundering around an unfamiliar piece of mountainside. Of course, now the challenge was finding my way back down...

Eventually I made it back to the river, and after a quick drink and a snack I pushed off and paddled for home. I wanted to avoid the main channel if possible, so I stuck to the small snyes and tried to zig-zag my way back to town. At one point I hit a patch of deadwater, so I just relaxed for a whilte and looked back at the mountain.

Nice as it was to float there, the clouds were getting darker by the minute. I made it to the final stretch, but rather than paddle the last 2km against the current I took advantage of the packraft's mobility and island hopped. I paddled up to a bank, hopped out, slung my raft over my shoulder and walked across to the far side before paddling over to the next island and doing it again.

Before long I was upstream of town, so I put in for the final time and floated down to the town dock. It's a shame I couldn't find the knoll, but oh well. A good day hike.

Addendum: there are apparently a couple of routes heading out from the airfield, and it seems I wasn't actually on Pete's trail. Maybe my path just lead to the creek after all?

Charles Yohin School

And just like that, we're finished. Today was the last day of school, and we spent it handing out report cards and presenting awards before saying our goodbyes.

It really is the end of an era. My incredible colleagues, Wayne and Cindy, are retiring after teaching in Nahanni Butte for 10 years. It is rare to find people willing to spend so long in a community as remote as this, and on top of that they are two of the most inspiring educators you could ever hope to meet. Also, the student population will drop significantly next year as the oldest kids head off to Fort Simpson for Grades 11 &12.

As for me -- even though I don't want to be a teacher as a long-term career, working with these children and watching them grow up has been one of the best experiences I've ever had. I feel privilaged to have played a small role in their lives, and hopefully I've made something of a positive impact on them. I know I am going to miss them very much.

Field Day

Today was Field Day in Nahanni Butte! We divided the kids into three teams and spent the morning doing activities in the gym. Most were familiar games, but there were also a few unusual ones like Feather Up (trying to keep a feather aloft for as long as possible by blowing air through a straw) and Marble Drop (moving as many marbles from the circle to a bowel using only your feet).

We took a break and had a BBQ lunch outside, and luckily the bugs weren't too bad. Later we set up the nets and played some soccer.

We ended the day with a tug-of-war. Boys against girls, kids against teachers, and finally everyone against a certain hapless volunteer.

The result was inevitable, but I contend that if I had better footware it might have been a different story...

We wrapped things up with some prizes, and then everyone went home early. Tomorrow we'll be handing out report cards, doing some final clean-up, and then shutting down the school for the summer.

Midnight

With the summer solstice around the corner Nahanni truly has become the land of the midnight sun. I haven't seen stars in the sky for over a month now, and 'night' has been replaced by a sort of perpetual dusk/dawn that is absolutely beautiful.

The Herd

It doesn't matter how long you live in a place like this, nature will always find ways to surprise you. This afternoon I was taking some of the younger students for a walk when Jarvis pointed out some shapes in the water: it was a herd of Wood Buffalo crossing the river! Luckily I was able to dash back to my cabin to pick up my camera and grab a few shots.

The Swarm

There are only three certainties in life: death, taxes, and mosquitos in Nahanni Butte. The early generations aren't so bad, as they are big and slow. Once June rolls around, though, the smaller types appear. They are fiendishly difficult to kill, and a guarenteed companion whenever you step foot outside.

South Nahanni River

The South Nahanni is one of the world's great rivers. It cuts through 540km of the most remarkable wilderness imaginable, a strange world of hot springs and caves, canyons and karsts. It is a rare example of an antecedent river, which means the waterway predates the moutains and hills that have since risen around it. Named one of the first UNESCO World Heritage sites, the river is now protected as the Nahanni National Park Reserve.

My village is located at its mouth, where it empties into the Liard River. Ever since I first came here I have dreamed of exploring its upper reaches, and being able to share this experience with my father is a wonderful way to end this chapter of my life. We were joined by Byron Remple, a guide from NWA, and together we made the first descent of the river in almost 10 months.

Day 1: Flight - Rabbitkettle Lake - Tufa Mounds

We departed Nahanni Butte on Sunday, May 29th. Our floatplane arrived mid-morning, dropping through glowering clouds before pulling up at the community dock.

After all the delays it was a relief to get finally get airborne, and the flight certainly didn't dissapoint. We cruised over stunning vistas as we headed upriver, and the familiar hills surrounding the village soon gave way to imposing mountains and deep canyons.

Before long we caught a glimpse of Virginia Falls. Even from the air you could see its power, and it was hypnotizing to watch the water thunder over a drop that is twice the height of Niagra Falls, or about the equivalent of a 30-story building.

From the Falls we continued NW along the river, heading deeper into a group of mountains known as the Ragged Range. Jagged peaks appeared, and as we approached our landing site we could see the spires of the Cirque of the Unclimbables in the distance.

We touched down on the river above Rabbitkettle Lake, approximately 350km upstream of Nahanni Butte. After a quick unload the floatplane roared away, and just like that we were alone. It was so early in the season that even the park rangers had yet to arrive, so we were the only three people in a watershed nearly the size of Switzerland. It was an incredible and humbling feeling.

Canoes had been stored on the riverbank last summer, and after retrieving them we had a quick lunch before packing up and hitting the water. We paddled about 20km down to a mid-river island and made camp. Our goal for the afternoon was to hike into the forest and see the Rabbitkettle Tufa Mounds, which are the largest in Canada. Formed by calcium deposits produced by hot springs, the mounds are 30m high and 74m across and estimated to be at least 10,000 years old.

We stayed at the Tufa Mounds for a few hours before heading to the ranger station at Rabbitkettle Lake and soaking in the scenery. Wide and calm, the lake offered excellent views of the surrounding mountains and was filled with schools of bull trout.

We made it back to camp around 11pm that night, had a quick supper, then went to sleep. An excellent start to the trip.

Day 2: Hell Roaring Creek

After a leasurely breakfast, we loaded up the canoes and headed out. The day was hot and sunny, and we spent a few hours cruising through glorious forests of spruce. We worked on our strokes and began to get into the groove of the river.

We made camp at Hell Roaring Creek, an ice-cold tributary flowing down from the surrounding mountains.

Day 3: Sunblood Range - Oxbow Lake

We spent our third day paddling 65km alongside the Sunblood Range. Leading up to their namesake peak overlooking Virginia Falls, they framed the North side of a broad valley.

The river developed long meanders, and as we entered a long reach we glimpsed a female moose grazing by the river banks. She watched us drift by before ambling away into the undergrowth.

Thunderstorms chased us down the valley, and later in the day we pulled through a narrow channel and set up camp in an oxbow lake. Everywhere you looked the ground was covered in clumps of Mountain Aven, the Territorial flower.

The next morning I climbed up a nearby hillock. From the top you could see the mist from Virginia Falls glowing in the morning air, even from 30km away.

Days 4-5: Virginia Falls

We spent two days at the Falls, but you could easily spend a week. Words and photos can never do justice to its raw power, and it is so massive that conveying the proper sense of scale is almost impossible.

Above the Falls is a chain of chaotic rapids known as the Sluice Box. We paddled over to the far shore and climbed onto the cliffs above to have a look at them, and then hiked down to a sheltered cove to see them from water level.

In the local area the forest is lush and damp, the perpetual mist from the Falls feeding a unique micro-ecosystem. Parks Canada has established a network of boardwalks to protect and preserve this undergrowth, but there are a few places where there are no established trails and you end up shin deep in moss.

It snowed overnight, but luckily most of it had melted before we had to portage our canoes and gear down the trail around the Falls. We had a layover day and spent it exploring the shoreline and watching the racing water.

Day 6: Fourth Canyon - Caribou Island

All too soon it was time to go. Below the Falls is a network of canyons and some challenging stretches of whitewater, and with the heavy rain and snowfall the river was running very high. Tackling them independently would have been risky, so we lashed our boats together to create a more stable cata-canoe.

It was bitterly cold and wet when we pushed off from the rocky shore below the Falls, but we soon warmed up as we paddled hard through the canyon. There were some large standing waves that hammered at our boats, but we got through in one piece! It's unfortunate that I wasn't able to take any photos, though, because the canyon walls were stained with brilliant mineral colours.

Several of the later rapids were washed out by the high water levels, and we pulled in to an island off the main channel in the early afternoon. We camped facing a dramatic natural amphitheatre, riddled with erosion channels.

Day 7: Third Canyon - The Gate - Pulpit Rock

Our seventh day on the river brought us to Third Canyon, with walls towering more than 2000ft above us.

Eventually we rounded a corner and were presented with the Gates, a pair of sheer cliffs framing the river above an outcrop known as Pulpit Rock. They are so massive that the Shangri-La Tower in Vancouver could sit between them and be level with their top. We pulled in and made camp at their base before gearing up for a hike up the East Gate.

The day was hot and sunny, but thankfully we were able to climb in the shadow of the cliff. We scrambled through forest and up a boulder slope until we were presented with stunning views from the top.

Day 8: Second Canyon - Deadmen Valley - Prairie Creek

We continued our journey through the canyon system, passing through the remainder of Third Canyon and all of Second Canyon.

The contrast between jet black rock and layers of green in the forest was stunning. Every turn in the river revealed a new vista, while the air was filled with the sound of water rushing along the steep banks.

Eventually we left Second Canyon, moving into the wide expanse of Deadmen's Valley. The grim name comes from more than a century ago, when the headless bodies of the two prospectors were found along one of the tributary creeks. Noone knows what happened to them, and the ambiguity of their fate contributed to the fearsome reputation of the South Nahanni during the early 20th century.

As we moved into the valley the weather began to turn, with heavy rain clouds filling the sky. Behind us the towering ramparts of Second Canyon receeded into the distance, and we pulled in to make camp at Prairie Creek.

The name Prairie Creek derives from the massive aluvial fan that streams down to the South Nahanni from a neighbouring canyon. It is flat and covered in grass and low trees, offering excellent views of the surrounding mountains. That evening my father and I went for a hike up to where the creek emerges from a narrow gorge.

Later, as we made our way back to camp, the sun finally won its battle with the clouds and filled the valley with soft light. It was a wonderful way to end the day.

Day 9: First Canyon - Lafferty Creek - Kraus Hotsprings

We only had a few days left on the river, but we still had yet to pass through the deepest of the Nahanni canyons. With walls rising more than 3,000ft in places, First Canyon is the deepest in Canada and one of the deepest in the world. To get there, though, we would have to pass through one of the final sets of rapids: George's Riffle, named for a trapper/prospector who capsized there years ago.

Before tackling the whitewater, however, we decided to climb up a little knoll overlooking the mouth of the canyon.

We pulled in alongside its elephantine flanks and then bushwhacked to the top. The brush was thick, but thankfully not as bad as what I experienced on the slopes of Tthenaago a few weeks earlier.

After an hour or so we made it to the top and were rewarded with a glimpse of the start of George's Riffle. More impressive, though, was the view back up Deadmen's Valley.

With the climb out of the way we proceeded on down the river. George's Riffle is short but there is a tricky corner where reflecting waves can knock you about. My father was wearing a helmet camera so we were able to get some good footage of the run, but right now my internet connection isn't fast enough to upload it. I was able to grab a screenshot though:

Once we passed through the rapid we floated the remainder of the canyon. Vast rocky faces surrounded us on all sides, but I'll let the pictures tell the story.

Towards the end of First Canyon there is a tributary that has bored a subsidiary gorge called Lafferty Canyon. We pulled in for a short hike, and spent a few hours wandering up the creek bed.

With the time sliding by, we headed back to the canoes for the final short paddle down to our campsite at Kraus Hotsprings. We had to pass through one last stretch of rapids, but the high water had washed out most of their length so they were very brief.

As for the campsite, even with the stench of sulphur Kraus Hotsprings is always a favourite spot for those traveling down the river as it offers the chance of a bath after long days of paddling! Years ago Gus and Mary Kraus had a homestead at the springs, but today all that remains is an old storage cabin that has been converted into a check-in station. Inside you will find dozens of little carved paddles bearing the names of earlier travelers - I'm pleased to say my name is now among them!

Day 10: The Splits - Nahanni Butte

What turned out to be our final day on the river brought us back to familiar territory. After leaving the canyon system the South Nahanni branches out into a series of braided channels known as the Splits, and from there it is only a final 40km or so down to my village. I have explored much of the area on school trips and my own excursions, and it was a strange feeling to suddenly be back in a place I know so well. The original plan was to camp on one of the many islands, but the bugs were ferocious and with the village so close we decided to just push on and make it home a day early. It proved to be a good decision, because the next day was very windy -- paddling against that would have made the final meanders very difficult indeed!

We had lunch on a gravel bar and from there we caught our first glimpse of Nahanni Butte, shining in the sun. It looked so close, but the river route is so convoluted in the Splits that it took us another six hours to get there.

Along the way we stopped in at the school's hunting camp. It felt very strange to be back there, but I'm glad I got one more chance to see it before I go.

For the rest of the day we alternated between floating and paddling, and little by little Nahanni Butte drew closer. As we picked our way through the channels, we passed massive log jams and scattered sand bars. More than once we drifted in water only a few inches deep, but we never ran aground and eventually we were on the final stretch. We pulled into town around 7pm, unpacked, and luxuriated in our first hot showers in nearly two weeks.

Finishing a trip like this is never easy. For most people, paddling the South Nahanni is the trip of a lifetime. For me, though, having lived for so long on its banks, it represents a beginning as much as an end. I hope to run this river many times in the coming years, and maybe one day share it with my own children. It was an incredible privilage to be the first trip down this season, and to have such wonders as Virginia Falls and the Gates all to ourselves.

So what next? There are 6 days of school remaining, and then I am officially finished. I plan to stay on a little longer to do a few more hikes, but the end is in sight. Before long I'll be back in Vancouver, back to all the noise and the rush and the clutter of Southern living. It will be great to be with family and friends again, but I know that it will painful to adjust.

Oh well. One step at a time. For now, all I need to worry about is enjoying my final days here. There will be a few more blog posts to come, so stay tuned. Also, what I have posted here is only a small selection of my photos from the trip. If you'd like to see more, I will be uploading them on my Flickr page in the next little while.