Alaska-Yukon Expedition: The Finish Line is in Sight--Just 1,700 Miles to Go...

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

Posted July 3, 2010, from Dawson, Yukon Territory

There's a point in every trip when I start to sense the finish. On trips of less than a month, I usually sense it from the start--I know about how long the trip will take and I often have concrete plans post-trip. But on longer trips, the expedition becomes a lifestyle with no foreseeable end: The trip is the very core of who I am and what I do, and the finish is so distant and so questionable that it's not worth thinking about. Eventually, however, that stops being the case, as I gradually recognize that there is indeed a finish point. And there will be life after this trip.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: On Finishing 450 Miles on the Yukon River

Posted July 3, from Dawson, Yukon Territory

Earlier tonight I pulled into the historic gold rush town of Dawson, which marks the end of my 450-mile float on the Yukon River (starting in Whitehorse) and the beginning of my final leg through the wilds of northern Yukon and northern Alaska back to Kotzebue. I had been somewhat dreading this section since I enjoy traveling via my feet, not via my arms while sitting on my butt, but it was a surprisingly enjoyable week. Here's why:

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: The Halfway Point: Should I Care?

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

Posted June 20 from Haines, Alaska

Before I began this trip in March my friend Buzz Burrell remarked that he thought "the crux" of it was the first two weeks, when I'd be facing severe winter conditions. If I could get through that, he seemed to say, I'd be in the clear, like a rock climber who makes it through a route's toughest sequence and has easy-going thereafter. But I remember thinking, "In the clear? Are you kidding? What about skiing across the Alaska Range, or pushing through the Wrangell's early-season, or paddling across Icy and Yakutat Bays--those sections have just as much potential to put an end to my trip as he first two weeks do."

Writing this from Haines, I'm happy to report that I've made it through the first two weeks and a number of ensuing challenges. But being "halfway there" is different than "almost there," so I'm well aware that there are still ample opportunities ahead for the wheels to fall off.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Party in Haines - Help Plan Andrew's Halfway-Point Celebration!

By Monday, Andrew Skurka will arrive in Haines, Alaska, marking the midpoint in his epic, 4,700-mile Alaska-Yukon Expedition. This means he has traveled roughly 2,350 miles—all by his own power via skis, on foot, and by packraft. Though he's trekked some 25,000 miles over his 29 years, Andrew readily admits that this has been his hardest challenge yet. We made him our Adventurer of the Year in 2007 for his 6,875-mile Great Western Loop expedition. While chatting with Andrew on the phone yesterday, he said that trek was like a walk in the park compared to his current endeavor. Luckily it's all the highs and lows have been documented in his blog posts.

Now it's your turn to get involved. Andrew has asked for us to help plan his halfway-point celebration in Haines. What should he do? Where should he eat? This guy has been in the Alaskan outback since March, he deserves to have a good time. So if you live in Haines, have been to Haines, or have a friend who can chime in, post your comments below. Let's make sure Andrew knows we're rooting for 2,350 more successful miles.

Photograph by Andrew Skurka

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Packrafting 101

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

Posted from Cordova, Alaska

Two weeks ago I shipped my skis home and picked up my packraft, which I will carry until the very end of this expedition in October. Most people have never heard of packraft, which Wikipedia defines as "small, portable inflatable boat designed for use in all bodies of water, including technical whitewater and ocean bays and fjords." Here I'll take a few minutes to introduce readers to this critical piece of gear.

There are several major benefits for me in carrying a packraft. First, I can safely cross big rivers (e.g. the Susitna), glacier-carved fjords (like those in Glacier Bay National Park), and saltwater bays (e.g. Icy and Yakutat Bays). Second, I can utilize gravity to quickly and efficiently travel through wilderness, as opposed to hiking those same stretches—the packraft is easier on the feet, requires fewer calories, and is faster than bushwhacking along the river banks. And, third, the packraft opens up new route opportunities, because without a raft I'm very limited in how far and where I can go—I'd be boxed in by uncrossable bodies of water.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Packrafting Adventures with Roman Dial (Video)

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

Posted on May 28 from Cordova, Alaska

Yesterday I reached the Gulf of Alaska (Pacific Ocean) after a five-day paddle of the Copper River and some of its tributaries.  National Geographic photographer Michael Brown and his "photo assistant" (also uber Alaskan wilderness adventurer) Roman Dial joined me for the float and for the four days prior (starting on the White River just west of the Canadian border) and we were remarking how something really memorable occurred on each day.  Here's the list.

Day 1 
The first spring rainstorm caught us while we were walking along the edge of Russell Glacier. It degraded into a blizzard--30mph winds, frozen sleet, and 100-yard visibility--as we headed over 5,800-foot Chitistone Pass. Miserable conditions, but certainly memorable.

Day 2
Awoke to bluebird skies and 6" of fresh snow. Left camp late in order to let some of the snow melt off, which was important because we then traveled along a super dodgy route down the Chitistone River drainage known as The Goat Trail. Huge exposure and tremendous views, world-class stuff.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Humbled by the Alaskan Spring

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

The Alaskan wilderness has brought me to tears twice on this trip, both times while talking on the phone with my mother from a "safe" location where being emotional has no serious consequences.

My first tears were shed in Unalakleet, Mi 281, after enduring continuously for two weeks the brutal combination of coastal wind and Arctic cold, and the associated stress of always being just one mistake away from death. I was recently brought to tears again, on the porch of a Glenn Highway convenience store, Mi 1402, my emotions rubbed raw and thin after skiing 600 miles across the Alaska Range in the peak of variable springtime conditions.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Spring Conditions Terminology

Follow adventurer Andrew Skurka as he skis, hikes, and rafts 4,720 miles through eight national parks, two major mountain ranges, and some of North America's wildest rivers in Alaska and the Yukon from March to October. Read his blog updates here.

In talking recently with my parents and friends I gather that not everyone is familiar with the lingo I've been using to describe the current springtime conditions. I'll attempt to define a few of the most important terms now.

"Variable conditions"
In the winter and summer, conditions are relatively predictable. Winter: cold temps, dry snow, frozen rivers and lakes, full snow coverage. Summer: warm, wet, open rivers and lakes, no snow. But in the spring, conditions are something in between, and changes are happening rapidly in the transition from winter to summer. A slope may be covered in snow today, but bare next week. A river that had frequent ice bridges yesterday may be completely open tomorrow. The snow may feature a supportive crust at 8 a.m. but might be the consistency of a slushie by noon.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: It's On, Mother Nature. Bring It.

Posted from Delta Junction, Alaska

In an earlier post, "Becoming a Lean, Mean Adventuring Machine," I identified a "go big or go home" moment as part of the hardening process. I finally had that moment, a few weeks ago in the western Alaska Range (as predicted), and I'll share it now.

The western Alaska Range between Roan Roadhouse and Cantwell was my first significant off-trail portion and my first long stretch without town stops. It's rugged country even by Alaskan standards. It features big mountains, big glaciers, serious weather, and no local help if something goes wrong. Look at a map—there's NOTHING between Nikolai and the seasonal Wonder Lake Campground. "Just go downhill" is not sage bailout advice. My planned route was 280 roadless miles, which I made logistically possible by having two caches brought in beforehand (one by plane, another by dog team). The terrain included enormous braided river bars (which in early April are still covered with ice), tundra-covered 4,000-foot benches just to the north of Mount McKinley, textbook Interior taiga forests and tussocks, and the debris-covered terminal moraines of Straightaway, Foraker, and Peters glaciers.

Alaska-Yukon Expedition: Andrew Answers Your Questions on Avalanches, GPS, Socks, Motivation

 
Thanks for submitting your questions last week. We sent them off to Andrew when he was in Delta Junction, Alaska. As to be expected, he came through with great answers. He also told us that he's happy to answer more, so feel free to submit new questions at the end of this post.

What's been the most intense moment of the trip?—Matt Shaw

I had a few tense moments last week after a spring snowstorm dumped almost three feet of snow up high just before I was about to ski over two steep passes. Both passes had unavoidable avalanche slopes (i.e. I had to cross slopes that are steep enough to slide) and there were avy-prone slopes above, below, and adjacent to my route. I think the conditions were safe at the time, but I learned a valuable lesson: Don't plan a high-stakes route through avalanche terrain, because when you get there the conditions might not be safe. I would have been better off planning a "safe route" with a "avy route option."