Julianna Cook, “Nahanni Expedition 2018”

Nahanni Expedition

The second night of our two-week trip, we camped on a small gravel bar on the right river bank. Already I had been amazed by the scenery that the Nahanni River presented. The mountain range that the Nahanni winds through is breath taking, and I was in awe every day of that trip. We had just paddled six hours from Rabbitkettle Lake to our second campsite and on the water we went over paddling skills from simple strokes like a draw, to more complicated ones like pivots for those who were not seasoned paddlers. I remember our guide Joel told us we would stop for the night as we rounded a bend in the river. The gravel bar he pointed to was scattered with round stones that we had to drag our canoes up onto, and stepping out of the canoe, I finally got a chance to look around at where we had stopped.

Normally during an expedition, things start off mediocre and then grow to become amazing experiences as you settle in. This trip began incredibly and ended even better. The gravel bar, to our guide, was nothing special compared to the sites we were planning to stay at, but for me it was absolutely stunning. The gravel bar extended for 15 feet and then it slowly turned into soft sand where we would set up our tents. Beyond the sand the tree line started. Tall green larch trees divided us from the mountains behind and created an ominous unknown where I was sure a bear would come out and attack me while I sat on the latrine.

I had been on mountains before while skiing in Alberta, but the mountains in the Northwest Territories were so different than any I had seen. They looked taller and because we were paddling in ravines and canyons, they towered above us. The mountains we could see from the gravel bar rose into a perfect point and created an amazing background for our campsite.

That night the 14 of us sat around on camp stools and ate dinner while taking in the world around us. We all took baths in the river after dinner which turned into more of a polar dip because the river was so incredibly cold. By that point the sun had started to descend behind the mountains, but stopped just before shadows appeared. In the Northwest Territories, the sun never sets, and as a result we stayed up way too late and lost a lot of sleep. The sun cast a warm glow on all the orange tents and set the calm mood for the rest of the night. One

of the teachers, Mr. Lewis, pulled out his guidelele (a guitar in ukulele size) and we spent the rest of the night singing and playing old country songs.

I felt so at home on that trip. It changed my perspective on myself and of how I want to live. I had never been so comfortable in a group of people and my surroundings. On a trip like that, you are completely separate from the outside world – you have no phones, no city exposure, and no way of communicating with friends or family outside the group. After spending two weeks deprived of everything in my normal life, I hated the idea of going back. You learn so much about yourself on those expeditions and even on the worst days, I never wanted to leave. I learned how to trust my instincts, how to get through difficult situations, what time I should get up at to use the toilet before anyone else, and generally about who I am as a person. You can’t get that anywhere else.

At the end of the trip we sat in the airport for two hours waiting for our flight. I sat staring out the window wishing I was still looking at mountains and water instead of a busy tarmac and artificial lights.