The good weather continues. We’re still heading up the big river deeper into the mountains, alternating between gravel bar walking and walking above the river bank on the tundra when the brush is too thick. Gravel bar walking is easier than mushy tundra walking, but sometimes the willows are thick on the river bed which makes it easier to surprise a bear or moose. When the brush is thick, we like to go above it onto the tundra. On the tundra, we continue to pass the ancient Inuksuks. Clearly, this place was a popular historic hunting ground for the Inuit.

Earlier in the day we passed a group of four tents on the opposite side of the river. They looked like rafters and we theorized that they are stuck in place until rain comes, as the river is very low right now. We did not make contact with them as it was about 500 yards and a big river crossing from us to them.

The sporadic caribou bands persist, mostly on the opposite side of the river, heading north, opposite from us. Late in the day we came over a bluff and saw about 35 caribou up close. They were grazing and seemed unconcerned by our presence. We hiked a bit further, set up camp near the river, and as we were cooking dinner another band of caribou heading north passed right by our tent. All these animals are heading north and west, which makes it seem silly that we are heading south and easy. The northern migration usually occurs weeks earlier, but things are a little weird this year.

Tomorrow we leave this river bed and head east to another drainage and our first cache. We’ve now been out here for a week and are both a bit tired, ready for the day off that the cache promises. But first, we’ve got to get there and based on the map, there are some tricky cliffs between us and the cache.

This warm, sunny weather is great but it makes me nervous. I know the moods of this place can change rapidly, and based on the sheer size of the gravel bar, this river can get huge in stormy weather. We’ll be returning to this spot in about ten days after an eastern loop into some of more remote sections of this range…more on that later. At that point, we will need to cross this river and it would be unusual if the good weather holds out that long. No sense though in worrying about things we can’t control, and out here, there is really nothing we can control other than paying attention every minute and making smart decisions.

In my quiet moments of walking, sometimes I struggle with the sheer length of this wilderness immersion. Sixty-five to 75 days seems like a long time to go without civilization, and it’s intimidating because we’ve never done it before. The longest we’ve ever gone was about 35 days, half of what we’re biting off here. I wonder where my mind will go, how my body will respond the longer we’re out here? I hope well. I think getting into more exciting terrain tomorrow will help. This rolling tundra/river walking is pretty easy, and as such it’s easy for the mind to drift off, sometimes to negative places.

From a mental standpoint, I find the beginning of the trip is the hardest. We haven’t been out here very long and there is a long way to go. But, while we have never had a 75-day complete wilderness immersion, we have been on trips this long with minimal civilization. It’s always the same pattern – the mental part is hardest in the beginning – and I’ve learned a million tricks to distract myself. Strength can show itself in the form of laughter, and we spent a lot of time laughing with each other tonight. I think that is a very good sign.