The creek drank the cradle

I've always loved the fall. It's the crisp coolness in the air, the rustling of yellowing leaves and the warm caress of a retreating sun. I was unsure if I'd still feel those iconic and comforting symbols of fall here in Alaska, but the changing daylight of shifting seasons hasn't disappointed.

Normally we'd have spent our Saturday engrossed in Clemson college football followed by grilling, paddling, and a dip in the lake. Deviations back in Clemson meant that maybe we'd watch at the sailing club or hastily check score updates between races. In those days, it wasn't until late in the season when our warm weather gear shifted, requiring additional layers. This Saturday, the first game of the season, prompted us to wake up in time to watch our Tigers remotely at 8am Alaska time while we brewed coffee. Unable to cheer and share a beer with our friends, we planned and prepped for an outdoor adventure during halftime. While we packed our gear into the car, we donned cozy extra layers as the promise of winter blew crisply through the yellowing leaves.

We made our way up the Steese to mile 39.9 for our paddle put-in after dropping our shuttle bike at mile 34.9. It was a beautiful float with the entire stretch of the Chatanika River to ourselves. We saw and heard gray jays, chickadees, bald eagles, ravens, juncos, and warblers all along our paddle. We had one portage around a few sweepers but found the brief steps in the water refreshing after warming in the full gaze of the sun. At the terminus to our float we were met with a fateful surprise: a buteo soaring overheard. Scrambling for camera and binoculars from the hatches of our boats we exclaimed at our ID. It was a Red-Tailed Hawk (Harlans subspecies) that finally completed our quest for 100 bird species seen together in Alaska this year!

While waiting with our gear during the shuttle for the car, I watched the trees sway and dance in the autumn breeze. The patches of yellow across the mountains flowed like the swift Chatanika in front of me. Nothing but nature spoke, and I listened. The beauty of an Alaskan fall in the foothills of the white mountains was enveloping and just as enchanting as the fall at the feet of the blue ridge in South Carolina. With either luck or generosity, the splendor of the moment grew as I watched an American Marten bound between the refugia of willows along the river's shore.

It was hard to leave the banks of the Chatanika as we pressed onward into the white mountains, but the wide open blue sky and gentle cool air of adventure beckoned. We followed whimsy to Nome Creek where many a gold claim and seekers still pan. We made our camp amongst the willows near the muskeg with the murmuring creek along side us. The lack of birch and numerous small black spruce reminded us that we were 'low and cold'; swiftly we made a fire that accompanied our warm hearts and laughter. The sky was brilliant and clear. For the first time in many months and the first time ever in Alaska, we watched a moon rise. It'd been so long that we'd almost forgotten what the cresting dome over the mountains might be.

The temperatures cooled throughout the night and dipped into the twenties. It was chilling to leave the tent in the darkness to search for aurora borealis. Our reward was iffy at best as the moon was so bright that the subtle green dancing was barely viable in the night sky.

By the time morning came, the temperatures had risen with promise of another beautiful day. We woke with the valley; we with our coffee and the birds with frenzied foraging. Fall may feel early this year but it's just as beautiful and full of adventure.

#adventure #camping #fall #football #kayaking