We were at the end of the world.
It looked so much like the end of the world to me. Known land. Looking out north was the delta of the Kongakut. Beyond that was a lagoon and even further the Icy Reef. A literal spit of land without fresh water we were to arrive at after a paddle through what I would learn would be an icy delta. We would sleep there for a night. Hopefully only a night. Sometimes you can find water there. So maybe two?
There was a peak we wanted to hike. So we had our usual morning and set out. It looked pretty simple, walk from the river to the tundra, the slope gets steeper, keep going until the going up stops. However, the river was rising. And it seemed like it was rising pretty quickly. I have heard stories of hikers being stuck on one side of a river, the rest of their party, their gear, everything to keep them warm and fed and comfortable on the other side. Sometimes the situation gets bad if you are in a canyon. We of course had the luxury of space, but we did not have the luxury of knowing how high the water would get. Then there was the question of camp. There wasn't that much elevation between our tents and the river. A few feet? I have also heard stories of hikers trying to cross raging streams and not being successful. I have done my share/a few river crossings. Sometimes it seemed like we were constantly in streams when hiking in Alaska. But there is hiking in a drainage and there is trying to cross a river in flood.
So we turned back.
Went back to camp, packed it up and loaded the boat. And floated, but not for very long, to a camp with higher ground.
It was July 4, our Independence Day. We could see Canada and we built a fire and made brownies.
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