epic

Teton Crest Epic Anniversary Day Hike – 24 miles for 24 years together

August 18, 2016 by Shelli

Some years ago, my husband, Jerry, and I had the idea to embark on an “epic anniversary day hike.” Every year, around our wedding anniversary, on a single day we’ll hike one mile for every year of marriage. Over the years, we have enjoyed some amazing, inspiring, fun and unforgettable anniversary day hikes.

On Aug. 22, Jerry and I will celebrate our 24th wedding anniversary. So this year’s annual anniversary epic hike would need to be, you guessed it, 24 miles.

Go ahead and say it. I know what you’re thinking. What about our 50th anniversary? Or our 40th – or 35th or 30th for that matter? I had to get a calculator out to learn that when we celebrate our 50th, I’ll be 74, and Jerry will be almost 80! (One friend joked that our plan to hike a mile for every year could end up being an “incentive for divorce.” LOL. I don’t think so, but I do think we’ll get more creative.)

But I digress. This is a blog post about our 24th Anniversary Epic day hike, and it’s a good one…

For some time now, we have wanted to hike the famous Teton Crest Trail. The Teton Crest Trail’s full route is about 40 miles long, and extends from Phillips Pass, on the border of Bridger Teton and Caribou-Targhee National Forests, to String Lake in Grand Teton National Park.

Backpacker Magazine calls the Teton Crest Trail one of the “Best Hikes Ever,” with “mesmerizing and constant views of jagged peaks.” I consulted with my good friend, and fellow adventurer, Michael Lanza, about an “approximately 24-mile portion” of the Teton Crest Trail that we were hoping to hike. He gave me some tips, and as usual, Michael’s advice turned out to be stellar. (Thank you Michael!)

We would start at Death Canyon Trailhead, and hike almost 4 miles to the Death Canyon Patrol Cabin, at which point we’d turn onto the Static Divide Trail. We determined in advance that we’d definitely take a little extra time to scramble to the top of Static Peak, and after that, we’d continue through Alaska Basin and to Sunset Lake, before ascending Hurricane Pass. From Hurricane Pass, we’d descend through the South Fork of Cascade Canyon, before returning by way of Jenny Lake boat shuttle to Jenny Lake for a pickup vehicle, and hopefully some cold beers.

Normally we do our hike around our Aug. 22 anniversary, but this year two of our three sons start school on that day. And besides, some dear friends of ours, Alan and Marie Wexler, and their daughter, Margot, would be visiting their home in Jackson Hole earlier in the month, so Jerry and I decided on Aug. 13 for the big hike. We invited Alan, and were looking forward to celebrating our anniversary on the trail with him. (I had shared an Epic adventure with Alan in 2014, and I was looking forward to sharing the trail with him again.) Soon after, Alan invited one of his friends, Andrew, who was visiting from California, and Andrew invited one of his friends, Allen, who was visiting from Big Sky, MT. These guys were all great company, and Jerry and I made a couple of new friends, and will recall fondly the wonderful time we shared with these guys when we recall this Anniversary epic hike.

I think the best way to share about this hike is to show you photos and some video. But before I do that, my final words are these: We have been on many jaw-dropping, inspiring and epic trails over the years. After all, our backyard is the Wind River Range of Wyoming, and we’ve enjoyed countless unforgettable and spectacular hikes in our favorite mountains. Yet I am here to tell you, and hopefully show you, that we concur with Backpacker Magazine. The Teton Crest Trail is indeed one of “Best Hikes Ever.”

We had challenge: 6,300′ of elevation gain. We had unbelievable scenery. After hiking up switchbacks surrounded by tall granite mountains with alpenglow on their tops, and fireweed in the foreground, we crossed over a ridge and were rewarded with a stunning view of Phelps Lake, the Snake River, and the Gros Ventre Mountains below. Then we started across Static Divide, including a quick scramble to Static Peak’s top, from which we could spy a turquoise lake with ice still on it, and a unique perspective of the Grand Teton in a distance. By the way, I think Static Divide gets its name from the effect of lightning. You wouldn’t want to hike across Static Divide in lightning, that is for sure. Thankfully, during our hike, we had the opposite – a clear and blue sky.

Then we hiked through some really cool, and very old rock, fields of a bazillion wildflowers of every color, and around the impressive Buck Mountain. We hiked through long stretches at high altitudes, in country that was huge and expansive. After enjoying some miles in the spectacular Alaska Basin, we reached Sunset Lake, which is striking and emerald green in color. We then hiked up Hurricane Pass, where we saw a glacier, and hiked around the back of the Grand Teton – enjoyed some champagne and an anniversary toast – before hiking our final miles on a trail that parallels beautiful cascades of water through the aptly-named Cascade Canyon.

Here are photos and some video:

At 6.5 miles in, this view of Phelps Lake, the Snake River and the Gros Ventre Mountains.

The scenery was expansive, and well, staggering.

Sunset Lake, and Hurricane Pass in the background.

Hurricane Pass, and the "back" of the Tetons. — Hurricane Pass, and the “back” of the Tetons.

Jerry, looking tiny on the expanse that is Hurricane Pass.

Schoolroom Glacier and Lake, and the back of the Tetons.

Cheers to 24 years! Champagne toast at Hurricane Pass.

Alan and Jerry, leading us to greener pastures... :) — Alan and Jerry, leading us to greener pastures… 🙂

Looking back at Jerry and the pass above and behind that we were just on.

Not quite like horses to the barn, but it was all downhill from here... — Not quite like horses to the barn, but it was all downhill from here…

Cascades in the south fork of Cascade Canyon.

Jerry, Alan and Andrew, on a slow boat across Jenny Lake, with dreams of cold beers... — Jerry, Alan and Andrew, on a slow boat across Jenny Lake, with dreams of cold beers…

Wind River Peak in a Day

July 5, 2012 by Shelli

01-P6271740_2 — Greetings. We were already 7 miles in when the sun rose.

NOTE: I know this is a long post. It was a long hike. 🙂 If you’re interested in hiking and climbing Wind River Peak, you’ll find key information in this blog. If you’re not interested in details, etc., I hope you’ll at least enjoy the photos and video at bottom. Or, here’s a 7-minute video blog of the adventure.

As a gift for my 44th birthday, my husband, Jerry, agreed to join me in hiking in and climbing Wind River Peak in a day. We had climbed it before — back in 1998 — during an extended backcountry trip we made with rented llamas, who carried our loads. Wind River was our first Wind River mountain to climb, a good one at that. Wind River Peak stands 13,192 feet tall, and is the tallest mountain in the southern Wind River Range of Wyoming.

The mountain is a massive and beautiful mountain, one that stands out from the southern half of the range. We can see the snowy, rounded peak from many of our favorite “back yard” locations.

464655_3606473834751_1356010759_o — Wind River Peak. (Photographed from Frye Lake on a different outing)

The last time Jerry and I climbed it, we ascended Wind River Peak’s south slopes, via Tayo and upper Tayo lakes. On this adventure, we would ascend its northeast ridge, above the Deep Creek and Ice Creek lakes region.

Our alarm went off at 2 a. m., which even for us early birds, was dizzying. It was more like the middle of the night than the early morning. But our insanity when we had set the alarm was rationalized by our desire to allow ourselves the biggest window of opportunity to accomplish the objective. We were going to be on a tight timeline because we wanted to make it back to Lander in time for our 10-year-old son’s last baseball game, which also happened to be a championship game, scheduled for 7:15 p.m.

We headed to Worthen Reservoir to find the trailhead, a 40-minute drive from Lander. With headlamps on and under a starry sky, we started hiking at around 3:45 a. m. I don’t mind hiking in the dark, but I prefer doing it pre-sunrise, rather than post-sunset. I like being far into the wilderness when the day is greeted by the first light of the sun.

We hiked three miles to Sheep Bridge, basically from 8,500′ to 9,000′ and back down to about 8,500′ again. As we made our way through the dark and quiet forest, the cool air was full and thick of the smell of a campfire. A fire (known as the Fontenelle Fire) was, and is burning, in southwest Wyoming, just over the range from us. The evening prior, Lander was in the thick of its smoke. We had been concerned that our hike might be smoky and that the peak may be a No Go today as a result of thick smoke. Fortunately the smell was from the smoke that had settled in the forest during the night and, by all indications, a stellar, bluebird day was ahead.

After arriving at Sheep Bridge, we joined the Middle Fork Trail and hiked up, and alongside the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie River for about three miles before approaching Three Forks Park. Here, we stayed right and started up the Pinto Park Trail, which eventually leads to Pinto Park and the North Fork of the Popo Agie.

On this day, the sun began lighting up the wilderness — at least enough for us to turn off our headlamps — at around 5 am. Soon after, at exactly 5:03 a.m., something curious happened. Right at that very moment, we heard birds chirping and singing. Until that moment, except for our huffing and puffing, it had been totally quiet. Then, we watched a small herd of elk emerge about 100 feet in front of us, to our right. Like I said, the day was going to be a good one. 🙂

We reached, and took a left, on the Deep Creek Lakes Cutoff Trail. Per our GPS, we had hiked 10 miles. After starting up the Cutoff Trail we hiked near Lake 10,054′, where we paused to watch several fish jumping and cutting through the otherwise smooth-as-glass water. We hiked for 2.3 miles before reaching the first Deep Creek lake, situated at 10,500′ elevation. Our GPS indicated we had traveled about 12.5 miles, and it was only 7:40 a.m. So far so good.

Steve Bechtel, my friend, and author of Cirque of the Towers & Deep Lake. A Select Guide to the Wind Rivers’ Best Rock Climbing, had provided information for us the day before about following “The Ramp” up Wind River Peak. We hiked another half mile or so beyond the first Deep Creek Lake before spying a trail to our right. Unfortunately I suggested we ignore that trail and keep hiking, thinking we weren’t to the ramp’s base yet. Oops. As we hiked toward Ice Creek lakes, it became obvious we (I) had made the wrong decision. So we backtracked a half-mile and picked up the trail and headed (seemingly straight) up. Nothing like making an epic day hike even longer, right?

After crossing over a little snow and a boulder field, we found ourselves on the broad ridge that separates Ice Creek and Deep Creek lakes that provides a half-mile-wide “ramp.” Once at the bottom of the ramp, we set our sights on a clump of rocks to the right of Chimney Rock and started up. Wildflowers were everywhere, growing up out of the alpine tundra and gravelly terrain. At times we hiked on tundra, others over rocks and boulders and at others, through snow.

The highlight of this route to Wind River’s summit is the almost-constant view you’re afforded of Little El Capitan, which, as its name suggests, features a massive and sheer wall, along with a notch known as “Surveyor’s Notch.” Little El Capitan is the fourth-tallest mountain in the southern Wind River Range. The sight of this wall is so astounding that we stood and looked at it, our jaws dropping, for quite some time.

At this point, midway up Wind River Peak, we were sucking air. We have climbed peaks before, this one included, so we were not strangers to thinner air. But doggone it anyway. On the upside, although there was a bit of a haze below us, in the direction we had come, we still had clear and bright blue sky around us on Wind River. The views that unfolded below us and around us were nothing short of spectacular.

Soon we reached the first of several snow fields. The snow was only knee-deep in most places and melting fast. Still, we were lucky enough that for most of the snow travel during our ascent we could walk on top of the snow.

Reaching summits takes a while. Especially Wind River Peak’s. The approach is a long haul to get to the base of the mountain, and then it’s a 3.5-mile hike to its top. I think as we were finally approaching the top of Wind River, my husband was wishing I had asked for expensive jewelry for my birthday instead of this epic hike.

Finally, when our GPS indicated we had only 92 vertical feet left to go, we got a surge of energy and soon reached the rock field that is the top of Wind River Peak. We made our way across it and climbed onto the pile of rocks marking the high point.

The views were as we remembered — epic.

We enjoyed a quick lunch break and I captured some photos and video before our time at the summit was up. We remembered that the summit is only the halfway point and we had a long way to go to make it home in time for our son’s baseball game.

Due to our missing the trail up we had logged an extra mile or so. Our GPS indicated we had hiked 17 miles once we reached the summit. And, at least in this case, downhill doesn’t mean easy. Going down is not easier than going up. It’s just that it’s different; it’s more about caution than effort, and our legs were tired.

We started down. Suddenly, Jerry, with much exuberance, exclaimed: “There’s a person!” I looked and spied a person not very far from us, ascending the peak. And then, Jerry yelled “There’s a whole bunch of ’em!” Turns out a NOLS course was summiting. These were the only hikers we’d see the entire day. Even though Jerry and I both love solitude, it was nice to see other human beings. 🙂 After a short visit with one of the instructors and some of the students, we continued.

When we hit the first snow field, our legs sank all the way down to our thighs. The snow was melting fast and it would be a little treacherous descending a couple of the snow fields. But on the final one, the most vertical of the snow fields, we enjoyed a long glissade. Standing on the summit with my better half was my favorite part of the day, but the glissade was a high second. It was a blast!

We got down Wind River much quicker than we got up it and before we knew it we were back on the trail. We still had 13-plus miles to go and not very many hours until game-time.

Finally, at Sheep Bridge, and only after enduring the 600-foot uphill slog it is known for, it was like horses to the barn. We made it back to Lander and to Hayden’s game right at the start of the game. As we arrived to the baseball diamond, we looked up and saw my parents, the boys’ babysitter, and our other two sons in the bleachers. At the top of the bleachers. I considered if I had another 8 steps in me. 🙂 And of course, I did.

What a hike and what a day! Once again it has been confirmed that anything’s possible if you’re willing to get up early in the morning, and, oh how I love my back yard.

By the way, when I’m not hiking — and sometimes when I am — I am a life and leadership coach and consultant. Check out EPIC LIFE, my coaching business. Epic Life provides coaching, with an option for a guided epic adventure. I also have a blog there.

Thanks to our wonderful friend, Korinne Thoren, for watching the boys so we could tackle this hike!

02-P6271742 — Jerry, catching his breath during the elevation gain on the Pinto Park Trail portion of the hike.

03-P6271746 — The first Deep Creek lake. Reached at 12.5 miles.

05-P6271751 — Jerry, in search of the start of The Ramp.

04-P6271757 — Wildflowers and lichen-covered rocks were in abundance during our ascent of Wind River Peak.

06-P6271760 — My best half, starting up The Ramp, with Deep Creek lakes in the background.

07-Photo1 (3) — First glimpse of Little El Capitan.

08-Photo1 (17) — Little El Capitan, and Surveyor's Notch.

09-P6281825_2 — Me, doing a little way-finding. That's Lizard Head Peak in back center.

10-P6271777 — Alpine tundra. Notice the little blue flowers. They are forget-me-nots, my favorite.

11-P6271776 — The target: Wind River's summit.

12-P6271783 — The snowmelt pattern reminded me of ocean water.

13-P6271793 — Jerry, hiking up one of the snow fields on Wind River Peak's northeast ridge.

15-Photo1 (13) — Jerry, at the beginning of Wind River Peak's summit, en route to the pile marking the peak's high point.

16-P6271796_2 — My epic husband and I at the summit.

17-Photo1 (7) — One of many summit views. The big wall is Little El Capitan.

19-P6281804 — Doing an (awkward backpack-bearing) snow angel on our way down.

A 7-MINUTE VIDEO BLOG OF THE ADVENTURE:

Frontier Girl Eats Oysters For First Time

February 24, 2012 by Shelli

I just returned from Boston. It was my first visit. What a city! Among other things, I toured the Freedom Trail, ate oysters and New England clam chowder, quaffed a Sam Adams beer in the famous Cheers bar, and ate pastries from the North End. Lots of pastries.
A highlight was meeting up with Christine Perkett, of PerkettPR. She, too, has Wyoming roots, and I had not seen her in years. She joined me at America’s oldest restaurant, Union Oyster House, to provide “how to” and moral support for my first-ever eating of oysters. It was awesome. Scratch that. It. Was. Epic. 🙂
CHECK IT OUT:

My NOLS Brooks Range Hiking Course: Not a Vacation or Guided Tour

August 26, 2011 by Shelli

Greetings from my beloved Frontier of Wyoming. I am re-entering upon returning from my National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) course in Alaska’s remote Brooks Range and Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

For two weeks, I backpacked a country that is so big and unending and wild and spectacular that there is no way I can adequately communicate or share its magnificence.

A place like Alaska’s Arctic National Refuge and Brooks Range, and an experience like a NOLS course, changes people. I am not the same person.

I have many interesting stories to share. While I am still “unpacking” all that I gained from the experience, here is a list of the main take-aways.

1. A NOLS course is not a guided tour or a vacation. It is hard, but it’s one of the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done. When I sign up for hard things, I grow. This was hard for all kinds of reasons, and as a result, I am more than I was before.

01-P8160455 — My hiking group on top of a snowy pass, after a hard uphill effort.

2. Longing. As a mother of three young sons, I found the hardest part of the NOLS course was not having any contact with my family. I now know what it is to “long” for someone. I am better for enduring it, though, and I hope my doing so may inspire other women who are mothers to consider a NOLS course.

02-P8170502 — Photo note from the Brooks Range for my husband and sons.

3. Expedition Behavior. This is one of the concepts for which NOLS is famous. On my course — spent with “strangers” and in bear country where bear precaution protocol means you can’t do anything without three other people near you at all times — learning to pitch in and do whatever it takes to move the group forward was critical and one of the most valuable skills learned. I see significant value in applying EB in all areas of my life.

03-DSCN0708 — Expedition Behavior at work!

4. Route-finding. We did lots of macro- and micro- route finding in the Brooks Range, a region that has no roads or trails. Map reading and route finding were a major part of my course. If we didn’t do it well, it was costly. Nothing like climbing the wrong pass or ascending or descending the wrong drainage only to realize you should have spent more time thinking it through and studying the maps, right? (Chris said it best when he said, during a particularly lengthy map check: “I don’t think it’s a waste of time for us to figure out where we are.”) Like in life, we can charge ahead with our heads down, choosing a route without looking ahead or considering the big picture. We can choose a path in life without being decisive, and just sort of wander and hope we end up at a good place. Or, we can look at the big picture — the features of the landscape before us for as far as the eye can see — and then choose micro routes based on factors such as rewards, risks, time investment, certainty, consequences and other factors or features. This was one of my favorite aspects of the course, particularly how it applies to my life, since I am choosing to not follow a trail.

04-P8100205 — Route-finding was a favorite aspect of the course for me.

5. “Leader of the Day.” Our group of 10 divided into hiking groups of five each day. Each group was led by a “leader of the day.” I volunteered for this early on in the experience. While our hike was considered a success and I received positive feedback during the debrief, the day wasn’t easy for me. Despite the “success,” and my hankering for leading, I felt ineffective on a couple of fronts. It was humbling. I had many learnings during that day, which are already serving me in my life. The LOD component of a NOLS course is invaluable, and I plan on getting vulnerable in sharing my LOD experience with you in an upcoming post.

05-P8150403 — Each of us was Leader of the Day at least once.

6. Active Followership. This is another of NOLS’ well known leadership skills. Because I prefer to lead — I favor ownership and responsibility — I looked forward to learning about “active followership.” Turns out that I’m often an active follower due to my non-directive style of leadership. But mostly, this skill is an intriguing one, and I will be posting about it.

06-DSCN0653 — Hiking near Lake 4352, with caribou up ahead.

7. Bear Precaution Protocol. Wow. This is a good story to tell! Alaska is bear country. A lot of leadership skill development simply happened as a result of being required to always have three people with you to do anything, which, most notably, included going to the bathroom, but also for simple tasks like retrieving a camera from a tent or needing to communicate something to a member in another group that was in the tents when you were at the kitchen or the other way around. This aspect of our course also provided some humorous material, some of which I’ll be happy and excited to share in a story on this blog in the future.

07-P8140341 — This is supposed to be funny.

8. Baking and Cooking in the Brooks Range of Alaska. I never imagined I’d leave my NOLS Brooks Range Backpacking course with cake mix and flour on my outerwear, but that’s what happened. NOLS courses follow a “pantry-style” food rations system. We don’t bring freeze-dried foods or s’mores. We had bags of flour, brown sugar, cornmeal, powdered milk, pancake and cake mix, quinoa, pasta, cous-cous, cereal, granola and a pretty generous spice kit. Meal time was a big deal, then. Not only were we hungry and motivated to “lighten our loads” by consuming the food we were packing, but pantry-style cooking involved measuring and combining — and being creative. This often meant breakfast and dinner, from set up to clean up, each took about two hours. The cooking and baking and creating with our course-mates was an unexpected pleasure of the course that facilitated not only meal preparation but intimate bonding and time for great conversation with one another.

08-P8180603 — Baking in the Brooks Range.

9. 24 Hours of Daylight. Well, more or less, it never got dark. At home in Lander, WY, I’m a morning person. I rise at 5 am and am in bed by 10 pm. On my NOLS course in Alaska, we would wake up between 7:30-9 am and often eat dinner as late as 8-10 pm. Often we didn’t get to our tents for bed until midnight. If we had nightfall I am not sure I could have adjusted. Certainly it would have been interesting to see me try and operate on such a schedule! But given it was light all the time, it was nothing to adjust. I found it wonderful to have so much light and yet it was so perplexing when I would be visiting with one of my course-mates in broad day light, and it was midnight! I did not sleep well, despite being tired and comfortable and for the most part, warm. It may have been due to the daylight, although I doubt it since I often had my head buried in my sleeping bag. When I returned to civilization, I saw author Tim Sanders quote someone saying “I haven’t slept for 12 days. Because that would be too much.” Oh how I can relate. That is my story for the Brooks Range. Fortunately I did get lots of rest when others were sleeping. And as someone once told me, I can sleep when I’m dead. I was in Alaska’s Brooks Range after all!

09-P8170574 — This was the closest thing to nightfall that we had.

10. Rainbows. We saw several rainbows during our backpacking. Each was magnificent. My favorite was one that lit up its end (a bunch of orange lichen-covered rock on top of a pass we had just ascended) and another on our second-to-last day of hiking that filled the bowl of a black granite peak. Often we were above the rainbow, which provided a pretty cool vantage.

10-P8160460 — Indeed- there was gold at the end of the rainbow.

11. Variable weather. The weather for our two weeks was phenomenal for backpacking. That said, we experienced all four seasons on our course. Probably we had more spring and fall than winter and summer. Most days, at least for some short duration, we would have on our full rain gear, but not too frequently. On one day, we ascended a mountain pass in falling snow. On our two layover days of the trip there was enough sun to get more freckles on my face and even get de-layered down to a short-sleeved shirt and shorts. Mostly it felt like Autumn though. Much of the tundra’s floor was “crispy and crunchy” and there were lots of golds and burnt-red leaves. I like to be in control. The weather is something I can’t control. For this reason I am fascinated by it and welcome its variety. I also like the way the weather, depending on its mood, changes the feel of the moment as well as the look of the landscape. The variable weather did all of this for us in the Brooks Range.

11-P8140375 — Watching the clouds was fantastic.

12. Physical challenge. I am in good physical condition. My passion is long distance day hiking and I live at an elevation of 5,280′ and hike at altitudes ranging from 8,000′-12,000′. I didn’t expect my NOLS course to be much of a physical challenge for me. Still, it was physically demanding. There were two days that involved ascending mountain passes in rain and/or snow that had steep angles and loose rock on rock, followed by a long, unrelenting descent in a rocky gorge. These days, combined with the usual work of the course (setting up and breaking down camp, packing, and other chores) were challenging. Overall the course was a good physical challenge. Certainly this is a huge benefit of a NOLS course — using the outdoors and an awe-inspiring natural setting as a platform to improve your work ethic and your health. 🙂

12-P8160435 — Hiking in soft tundra, through tussocks, across rivers, and up steep mountain passes was physically demanding.

13. Leave No Trace. I know we didn’t! Learning and applying the Leave No Trace principles in a place as undiscovered and vast and wild as Alaska’s Brooks Range and Arctic National Wildlife Refuge was a critical component of the NOLS course. I have much to share about LNT and examples of our implementation of LNT, including one of our biggest fails — and the low point of the entire course for me — when a Dig-It went missing. Long story short, we found it. But the stakes are high with LNT. We don’t mess around. NOLS taught us/me well when it comes to LNT.

13-P8090160 — We left no trace on the beautiful landscape of Arctic tundra.

14. The People. As I waited to meet my course-mates, I wondered, nervously, “What kind of person would sign up for a NOLS Brooks Range Backpacking course?” I was eager to meet these new people but also nervous. Turns out that I have some new friends in my life that I view more as family than friends. I will never forget any of them and hope we can keep in touch forever. To share such a meaningful, unique, hard experience together in a magical setting, is really something to treasure. Our instructors, too, were off the charts and also a part of this new family. I didn’t enroll in the NOLS course for the people I would meet. But it turns out the people on this course enriched the experience in ways I could never have imagined.

15. Evening Meetings. Every evening, as part of the NOLS experience, we had evening meetings. These provided a time for announcements to be made, tips & tricks to be shared, and discussion around the next day’s schedule. Then, one of us would have a 15-minute “spotlight,” which was a time to share your life story. There was also usually a poetry reading or a sharing of a chapter or small essay. Sometimes one of us would read something interesting in a naturalist’s book about something we saw during the day. The evening meeting was an intimate time for our group and it was really a great way to end each day.

16. Classes. A NOLS course is not a guided tour or vacation. There is a lot of instruction provided in outdoor skills, wilderness travel, environmental ethics and leadership. There were often classes held in the morning before we hit the trail, or in the evenings, and on our two layover days. Some classes were optional. There were classes on leadership styles and skills, knot-tying, cooking, stove-repair, map reading/gps use, first aid, and others. One class was “Alaska: Sense of Place.” This was presented to us during a layover day with the Chandalar River in the background. It made the experience complete because we were able to better understand the place we were in and how it came to be.

17. Unforgettable Moments. The moments of this trip that are unforgettable include “swimming” in the Brooks Range, skipping rocks in the Chandalar River, watching four little waterfowl take off from Caribbean blue waters of Lake #4352 as hundreds of caribou ran across a hillside in the background, standing on a pass and being above a rainbow to the left and in falling snow with sunshine piercing through on the right, “sledding” down a bunch of shale/scree, playing gin rummy under the fly in a downpour, the smell of Labrador tea while hiking in the tundra, the taste of wild blueberries, the almost-constant sound of running water from a nearby river or a babbling brook, watching the clouds move down a ridge and “fill in” the fronts of a peak we could see from our tents, chocolate chip, brown sugar and granola pancakes with peanut butter on top, listening to poetry with kindred spirits in a magical place, posing with antlers against my head, coffee in the morning, looking at scat full of berries and small bones and trying to figure out the story, baking my first backcountry cake, the unique and fabulous signature “bear calls” each of us had, hearing rain pitter-patter on our tent all night long, the first time I set up and operated the camp stove with no assistance, the vanilla sky on our last night in the Chandalar River, walking up and through a small-but-dramatic gorge, the “moment of silence” upon ascending our final pass of the trip — a point that symbolized our “going home,” hiking under the moon and a handful of stars during our 2 am “hike to the highway,” our tailgate coffee party on the road at the end of the trail/course, and the really deep conversations I shared with each of my course-mates at various points of the course. And there are so many more.

17-P8170497 — A moment in silence at top of our final pass.

18. I’m A NOLS Graduate! I was raised here in Lander, WY, where NOLS is headquartered. One of my only regrets was that I never took a NOLS course. (We plan to send each of our three sons on a NOLS course when they’re 16.) I love what NOLS stands for and am a cheerleader of NOLS. In my work and travels, I’ve often met people who are NOLS graduates. They always are leaders in their fields, which I think is no accident. During the last year, I’ve been going through a bit of a “reinvention”, and many folks I know who work at NOLS (Jeanne O’Brien, Bruce Palmer, Kat Smithhammer, John Kanengieter, Brian Fabel, Rick Rochelle, and others) told me, “it’s never too late.” My NOLS experience was everything I had hoped it would be, and more. Truly. I had high expectations for the course and they were exceeded. I am fulfilled to be among the graduates and in this “club.”

19. Jaw-Dropping, Inspiring Scenery. I will be inspired for the rest of my life by the sights I saw and experienced in Alaska’s Brooks Range. I feel honored and privileged to have been a guest.

20. NOLS Leadership Curriculum. NOLS is famous for its leadership model that utilizes the outdoors as its classroom. A big motivation for my embarking on a NOLS course was to learn and experience the school’s leadership curriculum. I was not disappointed! I learned about NOLS’ 4 Leadership Roles (designated leadership, peer leadership, active followership and self-leadership) and its 7 Leadership Styles (expedition behavior, competence, communication, judgment and decision-making, tolerance for adversity and uncertainty, self-awareness and vision and action). It’s funny; I got my money’s worth from the leadership classes and curriculum, but I also reaped a lot of leadership development benefit that just happened due to the fact I was dropped by the side of the road in the Far North to backpack for two weeks with “strangers,” having to follow strict bear precaution measures, cook and bake together, struggle together, etc. For this reason, NOLS’ is truly a brilliant model.

DSCN0556 — Instructor Lauren teaching us about Leadership quadrants.

21. Personal Video Interviews with my course-mates. Meet the interesting friends I made on my NOLS course and hear from each of them what they gained from the experience. For starters, here is mine:

MUCH MORE to come here in the next days and week.
Part 2: My Brooks Range People Made Me Better
Part 3: Epic Adventure — And Longing

If you’d like to see videos or photos, help yourself here:

Videos

Photos – part 1 of 2

Photos – part 2 of 2

Alaska’s Brooks Range or Bust

August 4, 2011 by Shelli

I leave you with this video blog as I depart for my NOLS course in the remote Brooks Range and Arctic tundra of Alaska.