This country's hard on people. You can't stop what's coming.

[TOGIE]

I really could never have predicted how much I would come to really regret us inhaling that bag of Doritos. Like really really regret. Hindsight is always 20/20. I still blame myself, it truly was a preventable conundrum.

We made the push for Coldfoot, praying we'd make it in time for the dinner buffet.

Coldfoot, the front door of the Brooks Range. A primary hub of air travel for hunters and adventurers, a point of safety and warmth for Haul Road truckers, and a classic van group tourist logistics hub. If anywhere on earth has perfected the blended vibe of a hunting outpost/launchpad, a summer camp, and a truck stop, it is Coldfoot.



Sometimes I felt like this is what I made the entire trip out here for, and some levels, it was:



Semi earned at this point. At this point my wife has mostly just received pictures of food I am eating on this trip. I get a text: "So, like, are you guys eating or hunting out there?"

Pffft.

Breakfast was even better:



Whatever man, I send this one to my wife too.

I'm enjoying the bottomless coffee hoping for good timing and opportunity to use a real bathroom one last time, for a while, maybe.

Success.

We gas up the U-Haul. Seems like we're always trying to push to the North Slope. We'll get there, I think.

If there were any more stops with food after this it would be hopeless.

I guess Deadhorse has food... right?

 

[SerialScience]

4/5 stars so far needs more Shania Twain

 

[TOGIE]

On one hand if feels like we've made significant progress on the Haul Road, but, an equal true reality is that we have a lot of ground left to cover. Today was a true driving day.

The drive remains as interesting as ever. The Haul Road can be nail biting at times, or actually most of the time. It's important to give Haul Road trucks as wide of a berth as possible, sometimes there is only enough room for one vehicle at a time. There are also stretches of recently graded road base and even some significant stretches of asphalt that can quickly cause you to drop your guard. Then, without warning you're careening towards a grouping of 12 Mariana Trench sized potholes.

We don't have a spare tire on this thing. I think about that a lot.

But mostly, I'm enjoying the drive.

 

[F250]

Awesome trip !!! Really enjoying the photos !!!

 

[brownbear932008]

I really could never have predicted how much I would come to really regret us inhaling that bag of Doritos. Like really really regret. Hindsight is always 20/20. I still blame myself, it truly was a preventable conundrum.

We made the push for Coldfoot, praying we'd make it in time for the dinner buffet.

The best part about Coldfoot is the return trip out of the bush.

 

[duckhunt]

I am loving this.

 

[Mallardsx2]

A couple of those photos smell bad. Lol

 

[Hem]

This one tracking darn great.

 

[Threedognight]

A real adventure for sure!

 

[Irrelevant]

Man, you're putting the time and effort on this write up. Love it

 

[TOGIE]

After the steeper descent of Atigun Pass begins the slow and gentle drop towards the goal: Alaska's North Slope.

We finally break out of the northern foothills and are greeted with a white blanket. We stop to look around. I'm so beyond extraordinarily relieved to notice, that if you look carefully, the white blanket does not seem to extend forever. There are just some final little foothills left blocking the final view of our destination.

And thank god, I'm very willing to do whatever it takes, but snowy winter camping was low on my list of desires, or rather, fairly definitely on my list of "no, thanks." But, it's Alaska, after all, you don't get a say in these things.



Looking back:



Oh glorious greenery. The relief in me at seeing the fading winter wonderland was substantial.



Another realization hits me hard, and it's exciting: it's time to start looking for Caribou...

 

[TOGIE]

So, that's what we do. We press onward. Stopping every so often to glass from the road and get a lay of the land with the intent of finding a proper launch point.

Alaska is full of good distractions though. My first Muskox:



Something almost any North Slope Haul Road traveler is bound to see. But it definitely provided a quick thrill. Such remarkably unique creatures. Long hair shrouding legs gives them an almost ghostly, glide like, quality to their movement. They are seemingly so unbothered by oglers.

Pressing on, the sheer scale of the landscape starts to become apparent.



And yes, we start seeing Caribou.

 

[TOGIE]

While the days are long, it is nonetheless getting late in the day to really consider making a roadside departure for the distant, faint, gentle tundra hills. By the time we would have consumed a proper amount of calories and gotten our gear together it would simply be too late, especially given the types of speeds expected out in the tussocks and sponge.

We continue our surveying of the land with periodic stops. We had never really intended to go the full distance, but it made sense at this point, and in all likelihood, a final hot meal awaits in Deadhorse.

But in all seriousness, I genuinely wanted to see Deadhorse. Who knows when I'd have the opportunity to come back this way and now was a chance.

The road gets surprisingly good for a long time once you drop down to the true marshy section of the North Slope. It turns into genuine highway driving for some time, as opposed to the 40 mph your often capped to.

 

[TOGIE]

In seemingly short order we are cruising into the outskirts of Deadhorse. I spot a herd of maybe a dozen or so Muskox a good distance off to the northeast. My eyes are glued to them until the landscape blocks them from my view.

It's a fairly anticlimactic arrival. I really didn't know what to expect. Though I knew that it was not much beyond a massive industrial staging ground for a giant oil field and boy is it apparent. You pass massive yards of fleet vehicles, heavy equipment, stacks of drill pipe, and all manner of massive metal and steel for specific purposes that are beyond me. But the overall purpose is clear, maintain the flow of oil into TAPS. The amount of equipment is somewhat staggering.

We find the "gas station" and fill up the U-Haul, there is no reason not to always have as much gas in the tank as you can out here. We then start searching for a hotel cafeteria that is still open.

I won't lie, I really don't like the vibe here. I've struggled to describe it ever since we got there. It just felt dead and sterile. We didn't really see anyone driving around. There is little color and every building, including the hotels, are giant industrial boxes perched off the ground to protect the permafrost.

It's not a place that is supposed to feel inviting, it is industry, nothing more, nothing less. There is nothing wrong with any of it, but it is giving me an indescribable feeling in my stomach I don't like. Perhaps it is a bit of the nervousness at the undertaking that lay before us that is playing a part, the fact that we already did backpack hunt of such size that it might be an entire hunting trip on any other occasion, and yet, we still had so much left to do.

Then, we finally enter a hotel. We wonder where the cafeteria might be. We quickly bump into an extraordinarily friendly, somewhat portly gentleman, whom we ask where the cafeteria is and is it still open. Oh yes, right down this way he says.

We chat as we walk down the hall. We are hunters, he works for a cellular company and has been up here for a good while for work. We round a corner and he presents to us the cafeteria. "Enjoy!" He abouts face and disappears.

In this sterile and lonely "town" friendly warmth certainly is still present. Seeing groups of folks sitting down, chatting, and enjoying food rapidly changes the vibe.

We grab some big plates of food at the buffet. You are asked to where booties on your shoes upon arriving and are required to wear plastic gloves in the cafeteria when not seated at the table. Some more small things about this place that lend to the hollow, sterile, and uninviting atmosphere.



I decide not to send this pic to my wife. It is getting a little out of hand. But the progressive dinner up the Haul Road was actually about over.

We both go take a look out the cafeteria window. The sun sets for fricken ever out here.



I turn around and notice the soft serve ice cream machine. "Oh hell yes." I mutter as I grab a cone and swirl it full.

We load back up in the U-Haul and we head south for the first time this trip, but not for home.

The tussocks await.

You can't stop what's coming.

 

[TOGIE]

We basically decide at this point where we want to take off from the road. A decision made much easier by the days drive and periodic roadside glassing.

We find a pull out to call home. Every pull out basically exists for access to pipeline infrastructure and care must be taken on where you park to not block critical access.

We do the majority of our prep so that the morning departure will be efficient. Come midnight we are climbing into our sleeping bags. Knowing there are caribou out there, I'm definitely feeling eager.

 

[TOGIE]

I'm still sleeping unexpectedly well out here and I definitely don't want to get up. But we need to get after it.

Oatmeal, coffee, boots, gaiters, gun, and quite honestly, your most valuable tool out here: trekking poles. With a nice heavy layering of moleskin and Gorrila tape on my upper left heel, we are ready.

It felt somewhat momentous to actually step onto and cross the Haul Road. What looks like mushy gravel is seemingly hard as concrete. We climb up the opposite side and look out upon our target. Well, the target is really just "that way." Not much to anchor your eyes on out here.



We are seeing plenty of caribou and spending plenty of time looking about. We need to make it to the rifle zone though. No thoughts about camp or loading guns until then.

Of course, as expected, the terrain sucks. Really sucks. Every step requires some thought, every step zaps a little extra energy, requires a little extra push, and you're in a constant state of micro adjusting your balance. No matter your fitness level out here, there is sort of a universal speed limit. It hovers in the 1.5 mph range as best as I can tell.

For the first few miles, you think, dang this rough but no biggie. As the hours go by you start questioning the sanity of what you're doing. Hauling caribou of here? Really? Then you remind yourself, questioning the sanity of this is silly, because it's not sane. Don't ruminate on it. Hiking endlessly in terrain like this to kill animals simply is just a bit insane. Period.

It's kinda the point.

 

[TOGIE]

As we approach the rifle zone we see a Teepee off on a distant ridge. Then we crest some small hills and find another camp just beyond the archery zone. Basically where we were thinking we would set up.

We cross into the rifle zone but the presence of camps pushes us further. We intend to find our own zone. It's as much out of respect as it is out of our own desire for success.

We gain a ridge and keep pushing. It's a bit weathery, spitting some rain, fairly windy. Unpleasant, but par.

We are keeping an eye on some caribou off to our left. Specifically a couple of bulls that are glued at the hip. One not small, one definitely not small. We never spend enough time looking to know much beyond that. But now approaching 7 hours of hiking it's time to find a place to set up camp.

8.7 miles. Further than we intended for camp. But that's how it goes.

We hurry and get camp set up. It's on some flat dry ground, near the ridge top. Quite windy. A small nearby tundra pond will do for water.

We are barely done setting up camp and Bluffgruff pulls out the spotter, these bulls are annoyingly enticing. Not even a mile away and bedded. I'm thinking about dinner when he blurts out "that's a first day bull, we gotta go after it. The smaller one is worthwhile too."

Woof, it was around 8:30 pm and we just did 8.7 miles of infamous arctic tundra, I want to eat, glass from camp, and suss things out a bit. I never saw it through the spotter and we only brought one to save weight. It doesn't matter, this what we're here for and if Bluffgruff says that's a first day bull, you listen. I could hear it in his voice.

We unstrap and load guns, chow down some granola bars, unload some more gear for ease of travel and rush off in the spitting rain.

 

[Charlie Bob]

Giddy up , loving this !

 

[NoWiser]

Man, there’s some great stories on here this year. This one has me hitting refresh way too often.

 

[EastTNHunter]

This is about to get good