The Bear, The Wolf, and The Reindeer
Alone in Denali National Park
This piece is a bit longer than my usual, but it has been sitting inside me for many years. I have shared this story over many campfires, and it holds significant weight to me. It is truthful throughout.
C. Summer 2016
I had clarity. I knew deep inside my bones I needed this. All alone. By myself in a remote and uninhabited corner of the vast expanse of this world. It drew me in irresistibly, as a bee to pollen.
At the end of my internship, I was magnetized to Denali National Park. An excursion to reveal my deepest fears and loneliness. Exposing the part of my humanity that is helpless and vulnerable. I was twenty and still blind to my mortality. I wanted to peel back the layers and face the most helpless parts of myself
I researched through the summer about Denali. Beyond containing the highest peak in North America, it had vast expanses of untouched arctic tundra. And being a national wilderness meant that it had an elevated status to national parks. A wilderness meant there were no trails or motorized vehicles allowed. There was one slender road that cut through the park. Backpacking through Denali meant no trails, and no waypoints. Just a topographic map, a compass, and hope for a future.
That summer, there had been record rain in Denali. The previous month saw more rainfall than the average annual amount. Meaning everything was drenched and saturated with water. In talking to a local ranger, he showed me a video of Tundra topsoil sliding down a muddy hillside due to the vast amounts of precipitation. It was not heavy rain, it was just consistent light rain, like a PNW dovercast drizzle. An ominous tone for my journey.
~
I stepped off the bus alone into the valley I was hiking into. I had my maps, my compass and an unknown journey before me.
I took my first steps and fear filled my bones. Not a fear of death, but a fear of being truly helpless. Of being vulnerable. Of having my most basic humanity threatened.
Within a mile I encountered my first peculiar animal. I crossed paths with a lone caribou (reindeer) as I peaked its curiosity. It approached closely. As I walked it followed. For about 2-3 miles, it tracked me. I made eye contact with it many times, and somehow I felt it smile at me. Behind that smile, I had a sense of divine presence shining down through the gray drizzly rain above. I felt its warm gaze affirm my journey was being led by God himself.
Eventually it went its own way, and again I was alone. Fear gripped my soul. I found my way through the animal trails that winded along unto a river bank. In the distance I saw two people walking out toward the road. These would be the last I would see. Truly alone.
I went forward and pitched my tent pushed back from a river bank. Still drizzling and gray, I cried myself to sleep praying God would lead my way
~~
When I spent the first day at the park headquarters, I befriended a few locals. One said they had not seen Denali in over one month. One described the mountain as an emotional woman who has been an angry mess for a month, not showing her true self to anyone who comes to hopefully set eyes on her.
As I took the bus out to begin my journey, I said to the Lord that if he were to reveal Denali to me, I would drop to my knees and give glory & praise to his name like never before. It would become an altar and memorial of praise to God.
~~~
Dark and gray as far as I could see. I began finding a fast rhythm for setting up and breaking down my campsite to reduce the drenching my equipment received. I decided to shorten my route due to the weather. I began my second day, but was not certain of my route. I had my map and was reading the surrounding topography, but it is unnerving making solo decisions with great consequence.
I hiked up from the river bed toward rolling hills. I was headed for a saddle pass that would hopefully go down to a large sprawling river basin on the other side.
Entering the rolling hills with sprawling blueberry patches provided majestic scenery, but also filled my mind with worry about man-eating grizzly bears. I began to sing to myself so as to not scare a bear by surprising it.
At one point the rain stopped. It was a welcome relief to remove my raincoat and pants. Every item I had was soaked. Nothing was free from the rain’s relentless grip.
Soon, I felt the warmth of the sun’s rays press down upon me. It filled me with a sliver of hope that temporarily soothed my fears.
Then, unknowingly, it appeared. The Lord had peeled back the curtain draping Denali in mystery. I turned to see it in its full and majestic glory.
I paused as I tried to understand the holy moment unfolding before me. I let my pack down and I began shouting out praise to the Lord. My fear turned to joy. My turmoil to peace. I knelt down before the great mountain. The sun’s rays beaming God’s hope of glory onto me. My broken and lonely soul received a beautiful gift from a generous God.
That moment branded itself onto my soul. It marked me to this day.
Eventually the moment passed. I began walking again. Within another hour, the clouds shrouded Denali again and hid her face for the rest of my time.
The rolling hills continued to pass by underneath each step I took. I came up and over the last hill before descending down to a stream bank, and my biggest euphoria turned to my worst nightmare.
I locked eyes with two cute, innocent, and tiny bear cubs about 40 yards away. My heart sank. My eyes became wide. My body filled with fear. Behind the cubs was the mama grizzly with her head down stuffing her face with blueberries.
I froze. Time expanded. One moment becoming an eternity. My sweaty palms began to shake.
I slowly turned and took a short breath. Do I go forward or backward.
At that moment, the bear family walked toward where I came from. I had to go forward and down the steep ravine ahead.
I walked forward and soon I was out of sight. The ravine’s wall was about 45 degrees of loose scree, gravel, rock, and dirt. Horrible for me to scramble down alone and with a fully loaded pack. I had no choice. I made it down to the bottom which led to the stream bed I was attempting to get too.
At the stream, I sat. The adrenaline faded. I took a breath. Life and death just passed before me.
It was only midday, but I decided to stay put and decompress rather than continue on.
The rain returned so I hid inside my tent.
My fortune continued to fester as my water bladder squeezed out all over the inside of my tent to create a lake whilst still raining outside. It was torture to remove water from the tent, while raining outside. Everything I had was wet. My emotions were sapped.
I wept again.
~~~~
I began the next day. Up to the saddle. I was hopeful it would give me hope that my way was correct.
While I felt freedom with not another soul around, I also felt the confinement my mind had from the grip of my cultural upbringing. The social norms, the culture, the expectations.
I desired to yell at the top of my lungs. To let out a limitless howl. To release my soul in its rawest form. But I felt a limitation. A constriction. A sense of judgement from a person unknown to me. A sense of shame and guilt of not conforming and being unaccepted.
By whom would I be judged? Who would shame me? Not my loved ones, but the mysterious and unknown person that represents my society. The person that is called “societal norms”. The person setting the “culture”. The faceless person that keeps people from stepping outside the lines. The aura that conforms people to the world's standard.
I felt and identified this deep and invisible force clearly for the first time. I felt how much this influence has pushed me to stifle my true self and expression for the benefit of the broader society. A fear of being judged and doing what I think others would think would be best instead of finding what God finds to be true about me and sinking deeply into that.
All I desired was to open the valve of my lungs. To howl for the world to hear my true self. Unashamed of who I truly am.
~~~~~
I had a steep ascent up to the saddle. I was unsure this was even the right valley. I was uncertain yet hopeful.
I took my last step uphill and peered out. In the distance, I saw what I was anxiously waiting for: The vast open river valley in the distance..
Hope and satisfaction drenched me from head to toe.
A euphoria overwhelmed me. Reaching inside myself, I let out a primal howl I was longing to release. A howl that broke through my shame as it echoed into the vast distance. I could feel my own soul. I stood there as a renewed man.
My howl brought me a new sense of freedom and purity. An acceptance of my mortality leading me to sink into the present moment. To strip away all that is insignificant and be filled with gratitude for the simplicity of life.
A paradox occurred that as I was close to death, vulnerable, and helpless, I felt the joy and freedom of my life. It provided context for me to be filled with purpose, vision, and a singular focus on my one true purpose to live solely for the Lord and his way.
~~~~~~
I began my descent through the valley of a wooded and muddy forest. The easy trails of the tundra were no more. When I looked out toward the wide river ahead, I did not fully take in what I was to walk through between here and there.
This was the most intense day I have ever had in any hiking context. Even though the general direction was clear, the way was atrocious.
The valley was not like the previous. It was steeper on both sides and the dirt soil had become deep mud. The banks were lined with trees and thick shrubs. It was a dense forest.
I was at times stuck knee deep in mud. Every step was a struggle as I meticulously thought through its best placement. It was exhausting. I would put my weight onto what I would think was a solid spot, but it would immediately sink anywhere down to my calf. At one point I sunk down to my knee
I had my trekking poles, but they were of little use because they would sink just as deep. At one moment I stuck my pole down and I could not get it out, as I pulled it bent to a 30 degree angle before pulling it out.
The rain was still endlessly making known its existence.
The other fearful item to consider was that the terrain had very low visibility due to the heavy forest. Meaning that I could not see what kind of animals were around me.
I began making progress. I was on high alert for animals and took no rest.
Suddenly, something shot across me about 20 yards ahead. I was frightened. Fear filled me again. It pranced by quickly shooting a glance at me. Another harmless caribou. It paused, looked my way, and moved along.
~~~~~~~
Eventually I made it through. The mud became lighter. I came upon the river valley and was tired. I was ready to make up camp and to eat.
I began looking for a suitable place to pitch my tent amongst the muddy terrain. I came across some animal tracks. I first recognized them as large dog foot prints. I was confused for a moment. I looked around further, I saw many more. I had a scary epiphany. These were wolf tracks. And fresh ones.
The blood drained from my face. I was both scared and frustrated. Scared that a pack of Alaskan wolves were around me. Frustrated knowing I would have to move.
I cooked dinner and thought about what to do. I could risk it and camp out here. Or I could hike another 3-4 hours down river. If I hiked fast enough I could reach the last bus around 9pm and camp at the hq, otherwise I would camp the night near the road and take the first bus out.
Drenched and weary, I began the walk out.
I stepped onto the last bus, took a breath, and said a prayer thanking God that I was alive. For I had never felt more alive, more full of hope, and more true to myself than after those moments of raw vulnerability. Never had I felt more human. Never was I the same after.