Wade Nolans Arctic Noatak Expedition - Pt. 10 By Wade Nolan - Bowhunting Biologist
May 16, 2008 - 6:20:19 AM
ARCTIC EXPEDITION - THE GRAND CANYON OF NOATAK (Journal entry 10)
Two more sleeps took us to what my topo map described as the lower canyon or the Grand Canyon of the Noatak. I think a park service person named this Grand Canyon as he floated along from up stream. It is beautiful and grand but not treacherous at all. With a name like the Grand Canyon I expected some threat to our lives. It was fast and enjoyable. The country now supported real trees although they were small. Up river the tallest tree was not taller than me but now we see a few cotton woods plus white and black spruce.
Traveling down river about 5 miles down river you come to the Lower Canyon, which is the Real McCoy. This canyon is awesome. The walls rise out of the swirling churning water of the gorge for 300-400 feet straight up. The canyon is narrow and often shaded like a giant grumbling hallway. We found ourselves staring straight up most of the time.
This is geology 101 as the rock is folded and jammed like it was once pie dough. Metamorphic rock is the most interesting of all. It has been layered and heated and cooked and here it was also folded by some gargantuan earth force. This must be near a juncture of a tectonic plate. The colors are spectacular with reds, browns and yellows splashed to the rugged tops of the walls. Here the earth folded up like an accordion. Today the music is muted but the instrument is still with us. Not much prefers country like this but there is one white resident. This is Dall sheep country.
The water was roaring along in the canyon but didn't give me a knot in my stomach until the very end of the last turn. Here the entire flow of the Noatak, which is impressive by now, ran headlong into a 90-degree bend and the water climbed up the far canyon wall. This situation is rare in rivers but I had seen this once before and immediately knew what the problem was going to be. The force of the water crashing against the far wall caused a series of standing waves to reverberate off of the wall and reflect back up the charging river. The complication was that these 3-4 foot standing waves were twisting around a single sharp boulder that jutted up like a white canine, right in the middle of the flow.
Canyons are best run after a recon look. We just ran this one and hoped for the best.
Journals I had read said it was navigable. Other than the can opener like rock jutting out or the chute at the end of the canyon…it was fodder for a short campfire story.
We were being funneled directly down the fastest flow like a chute leading to a waterfall. The sound was deafening. I shouted to Reed to give it all he had and paddle left. In order to gain the option to steer the kayak we must be going a little faster than the current. Otherwise a left rudder yields the exact opposite effect as far as steering is concerned. This was the toughest spot yet and with the incredible volume of water rocketing through this canyon there would be sucking vortex holes and powerful churning currents to deal with if we turn in to swimmers.
The canyon was so striking that we looked up more than ahead.
We paddled for all we were worth and shot past the canine rock on the up stream side missing it by 2 feet. My heart was in my throat when we funneled back in to safe fast water. This was one of those moments that can only be enjoyed in retrospect. We had survived the worst and the best the Noatak had to offer.
Out pilot had causally mentioned to us that there was only one Inuit who lived on the entire river above the village of Noatak. He told us that his cabin was located near the second creek below the canyon. We had come through over a dozen canyons over the last 230 miles and we had counted creeks….one, two, and we looked at least four times for a cabin and failed to find a resident. Today that would all change. Below this canyon we counted creeks again…one, two, and there, back in the small cottonwoods I spotted an idle rusty smoke stack among the spruce spires. It was above a log cabin. This would be the cabin of Ricky Ashby, the sole resident in the entire Noatak watershed above the village of Noatak.
I have been fortunate to travel the world and I have learned one important thing. It is never the Great Wall, the herds of elephants or even bears on the stream that stands out on an expedition or adventure. I'll go to Africa to film lions and low and behold, the best part of the trip is the people. I tell my audiences at Wild Game Dinners…, "It is always the people." I was not ready for what the next ten hours would hold for us. Even here in the remote Western Arctic, and with only one person available to be "The people" we were about to be reminded of this old reliable axiom. It's always the people.
