| |
Club members Stephen and Kathy Dennis and Dean Behse, along with two guides and five others, kayaked up the Thomsen River in the Canadian Arctic last summer. The group often tried to camp in a protected area along the river, as was the case at this camp, dubbed “Creekside Camp.” |
|
 |
| |
|
 |
| |
|
Story and photos by Stephen Dennis
(except where noted) | pdf version |
|
| |
Three Bellevue Club members,
with seven others, braved the Canadian
Arctic for a chance to see wildlife and terrain in
its natural state. Member Stephen Dennis recounts their two-week adventure. |
| |
The summer of 2005, Club member Dean Behse and my wife Kathy and I were able to fulfill a long-time dream. We joined two naturalist guides and five other guests
for a once-in-a-lifetime kayak trip down the remote Thomsen River in the Canadian Arctic. The trip came highly recommended and we were drawn to the area by the sheer remoteness of the place and the promise of abundant birds and wildlife living in an area virtually untouched by humans. We were
not disappointed.
The Thomsen River flows north in Aulavik National Park on Banks Island, which lies at the western entrance to |
|
 |
| |
the fabled Northwest Passage. About the size of Vancouver Island, Banks is home to less than 200 year-round residents and the remote Aulavik Park sees fewer than 50 visitors in a typical year. The Thomsen can only be paddled during a narrow June to July window after the ice melts and before the water flow drops and it becomes too shallow. Like several other Canadian Arctic parks, Aulavik can only be reached by plane during the short summer season and offers absolutely no services of any kind for the
visitor. |
| |
back row (l-r) Tony
Valukas, Jamie Whiteside, Stephen Dennis. front row, (l-r) Cassie Valukas, Maria Valukas, Paul Valukas, Kathy Dennis, David
Harrison and Dean Behse. |
|
“That is the beauty of the place,” says Dean. “It’s totally undeveloped. Once you are in the park you’re on your own.”
We chose W&S Expeditions, a Canadian tour company, to lead our band of adventurers. We’d kayaked with them on two other occasions and it was their glowing reports of Banks Island wildlife that placed
it on our “must see” list. The lead guide, Bob Saunders, was a biologist with nearly 10 years experience guiding in the north country. The second guide, Jamie Whiteside,
contributed Arctic experience, a
penchant for organization and an exceptional singing voice to the mix.
In mid-June the Bellevue contingent met former Club member David Harrison, four other guests and the guides in Edmonton, Alberta, for the start of the journey.
We flew north to Inuvik by commercial jet, spent the night, then boarded a chartered Twin Otter (the big brother to the deHavilland Single Otter flown locally by Kenmore Air) for the
|
| |
three-hour flight across the Beaufort Sea to Banks. Lacking a
formal runway, a luxury in the Arctic, the Otter deposited us on the flat shoreline of the Thomsen River and left with the promise of a return flight from a particular sand island near the mouth of the river two weeks hence. |
| |
The plane’s departure was one
of the more memorable moments of the trip. It lifted off into a snow-filled 30-knot wind, leaving our group standing on the treeless tundra beside a jumbled pile containing five collapsible kayaks, five tents and a mountain of food and personal gear. As we dug through the pile in search of additional winter clothes, we all questioned the sanity of otherwise normal people who would give up home and hearth to come
to such a barren place.
Once tents were up and anchored, providing us with a respite from the wind, spirits revived and we began to assess the island that was to be our home for the next two weeks. The |
|
 |
| |
slow-flowing Thomsen is surrounded by low, rolling hills. From
a distance the ground looks quite dead but on closer examination
the tundra is very much alive with masses of hardy plants and spring flowers on a spongy base. |
| |
 |
|
The first day was devoted to repacking our food stocks into kayak-sized nylon bags which were distributed so each kayak carried a portion of the group supplies. In the land of the midnight sun, the packing operation carried us into the evening and the first dinner wasn’t served until well past 10 p.m.
“Time somehow loses meaning when you have no schedule and it’s light 24 hours a day,” says Dean. “It became difficult to remember what day it was!”
The next morning we assembled our collapsible Klepper kayaks by stretching their rubberized canvas skin over a fragile-looking wooden frame. The sturdy little boats proved to be quite seaworthy and capable of carrying two people and all of our food and camping equipment. |
| |
The second day we fell into a routine that would be maintained for the duration of our Banks Island stay. With 24-hour daylight, eating habits were adjusted to reflect an Arctic tempo; breakfast mid-morning, lunch late afternoon and dinner between 8 and 11 p.m. Any concern about sleeping in our bright yellow tents with the midnight sun were quickly dispelled. Typically tired after a day of paddling or hiking,
no one complained about the light. On kayaking days we would break camp, be on the river by late morning and in a new camp by early evening. Other days we would stay ashore and devote our time to hiking, fishing or just relaxing. |
| |
The prevailing north wind was
a factor every day. The good news was that it kept all but the hardiest bugs at bay. But, with rare exceptions, it was always blowing against us on the river, creating a paddling challenge. One afternoon we simply gave up paddling, tied lines to the kayaks and walked along the shore, dragging the boats behind.
Where possible, we tucked our five rugged little tents into gullies beside the river, sheltered from the strongest winds. Our guides capitalized on that protection allowing them to perform kitchen magic at mealtime. Breakfast ranged from staples such as cold cereal
|
|
 |
| |
and oatmeal to pancakes, omelets and Eggs Benedict. Lunch, in camp or on the river, consisted of cold cuts, fruit, a variety of breads and other surprises. Dinner was the highlight of the
eating day. Soups, chili, burritos, couscous and polenta served with assorted canned meats kept everyone’s calorie count up. When the fishermen were successful, their
Arctic char or trout would be added to the menu. |
| |
 |
|
The promised wildlife did not
disappoint us. The island is home to the world’s largest musk ox herd. Built like an American buffalo, the musk ox sports a shaggy winter coat well adapted to the harsh northern winters. In the summer, they shed their winter fur and look a bit ragged. We saw them every day; sometimes in the distance and sometimes very close to camp. Normally they are skittish around people but we heard they can be aggressive so we treated them with respect. Wolf, fox and the hamster-like lemmings rounded out the mammal populations. None of them proved curious enough to threaten our food supplies.
Dean, an early riser at home, maintained that schedule, taking |
| |
morning hikes while everyone else slept. On one such hike he spotted and photographed the only wolf seen on the trip. “He captured an image on his digital camera so we wouldn’t write off the sighting as a tall tale,” Kathy says with a smile. |
| |
Bob, the guide, favored midnight hikes and had excellent luck spotting difficult to find birds and wildlife well after midnight.
Any concern about potential polar bears was put to rest by the guides who pointed out that the big white bears prefer the ice pack along the island coast where the seal hunting is best. While not unheard of near the mouth of the Thomsen, the guides had never encountered a bear up-river and rated the risk low. That was fine with us.
The wide variety of birds nesting on Banks provided a never-ending aerial show. Considering that migrating birds must cross all of northern Canada and 100 miles of open sea to reach Banks, |
|
 |
| |
the variety of bird life impressed us. Snowy owls, gyrfalcons, peregrine falcons, eiders, loons and sandhill cranes were just some of the species we identified. |
| |
 |
|
In addition to birds and wildlife our guides provided an archeological bonus. A number of 100-year-old campsites along the river gave evidence of native people that once lived in this harsh environment.
The absence of contemporary visitors meant the stone tent rings and other signs of native life were well preserved.
After 13 days, 100 miles of
paddling, eight different camps, seven fish tales, one wolf tale and, between us all, about 2,900 photographs, we pulled ashore for the last time on a sand island that was to be our final campsite and the landing strip for the return flight. With a mix of relief and sadness we began taking the kayaks apart and organizing our gear for the flight out. |
| |
There had been some difficult days when wind and rain lashed our campsite, driving us into our tents for hours at a time. There was a day on the water when the wind was so persistent it felt like we were paddling in molasses. But those days were more than offset by the wildlife, the sunny days and the stark beauty of the island. Both guides and guests had made the best of every situation and nary a discouraging word was heard during the two weeks. |
| |
As the day of departure dawned we were reminded of Arctic Travel Rule No. 1 in the park visitor guide: “The schedule will change. Poor weather conditions often prevent scheduled flights from arriving on time. A delayed departure is a real possibility ...”
Via satellite phone the guides confirmed that weather in Inuvik had delayed all flights and put our schedule in jeopardy. After a long day of uncertainty we learned our plane was in the air and finally, as midnight approached, the sound of the reliable Otter was heard. After a last look around our river home we climbed aboard and were soon heading back to a world of cell phones and Internet access.
|
|
 |
| |
“It was nice to be back but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. The trip proves there still are places on this earth where you can truly ‘get away from it all,’” says Dean.
Would we recommend the trip to others?
“Absolutely! It is one of the few unspoiled places left,” says Kathy.
“I loved the birds and wildflowers. Another trip north is on my life list, but not this year.”
|
| |
 |
|
Canadian Adventure Travel
Northern Canada offers a range of choices for the would-be
traveler. Many are accessible by car and lodging choices range from first-class hotels to tents in the tundra. But the area can easily
be enjoyed without roughing it.
Festivals, fishing, hiking, boating, wildlife viewing and just driving around are options. A variety
of online resources are available to help with your travel planning. |
| |
CANADIAN NATIONAL PARKS
The parks site provides information about the Canadian system: what to expect, how to get there and trip-planning information. www.pc.gc.ca
PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT
The two northern provinces most accessible from Bellevue are the
Yukon and Northwest Territories. Both have excellent sites to assist
with your travel planning.
For the Yukon www.touryukon.com
For the Northwest Territories www.explorenwt.com
GUIDES AND OUTFITTERS
There are many qualified outfitters and guides, such as the ones listed below. They can also be found with a Web search or through links from the government sites.
W&S Expedition offers several kayak trips in the area.
www.legendaryex.com
Nahanni River Adventures offers trips on most of the area’s major rivers.
www.nahanni.com
Canadian River Expeditions offers rafting and canoeing trips.
www.canriver.com
Black Feather offers canoe, kayak and hiking trips. They also offer women-only trips.
www.blackfeather.com |