Last night was a rough one. My left foot stung this morning, very reminiscent of the pain I had before I got trench foot on the traverse in 2021. And yet, there is no visible mark of skin damage. It’s certainly been wet and cold, but the systems I use now worked in 2022 and 2023 and are completely different from what I used in 2021. The only thing I can think that was different this year was that first crossing. That was the coldest river crossing we’ve ever done and we were in the water for a long time. It was also brackish as the sea water was intermingling with the river water. I suspect I have frozen a tendon or ligament on that crossing and now I’m feeling it. Our tent site last night was very sloped, causing my feet to swell so that has something to do with it. Obviously, this is a very visceral fear, but I’ll keep an eye on it.

Other than that, today was a wonderful day. We walked right to the very edge of the Brooks Range and headed north along that front range slope before climbing up a valley into the mountains. There is something special about places with major geographical change, and this is one of them, where the Arctic Plain meets one of the great mountain ranges of the world. There is an energy in these places that invigorates. It also helped that the cold fog finally lifted and today was comfortable and sunny.

From this front range vantage point, there are views clear across the North Slope all the way to the sea. This is obviously a place where natives were, as it offers a panoramic viewpoint for seeing caribou and even whales spouting in the ocean. Our pilot told us we might find arrowheads here, and while we were unsuccessful in that endeavor, it wasn’t hard to imagine the world a thousand-plus years ago and realize we were not the first people standing on these hills. I felt a connection to those humans and imagined myself as them, scanning the land looking for game, food, and survival.

We dilly-dallied along these unique hills, searching for fossils and arrowheads, before dropping into a new valley that entered the Brooks Range. The valley was heavenly, with great, firm walking and a very manageable little creek coming down it. It was so enjoyable we changed our plan to head back to the big river and decided to walk deep up this valley and cross over later. The smells changed too. On the North Slope, there was always a faint, foggy sea smell. Heading up the valley, the air felt drier, clearer, and crisp. We found a nice, flat campsite and enjoyed our dinner utilizing our first wood burn of the trip, lazily watching the thin column of smoke rise above the valley between bites of pasta. Up until now, there hasn’t been any wood and it has been too cold for that luxury.

It was rich day for animal life. We saw bands of caribou along the North Slope and in this valley. We haven’t found the big herds yet, but we’ve seen enough to let us know they are around. We spent five minutes watching a golden eagle flying very high in the sky, barely flapping it’s wings, riding the currents. These birds really epitomize the freedom that is the Arctic. On the other end of the spectrum, we examined a dead sheep skeleton, bleached but remarkably intact. The Arctic is freedom, but the Arctic is fierce. Nice days like today make me nervous because I know this place can turn on a dime.