Dipnetting at Chitina and what I thought about

“Carrot's trip was one of the best trips of my life. The Alaskan Arctic was absolutely beautiful in all directions at all times. Our group was so much fun to spend time with, and somehow it felt like the perfect balance between pushing ourselves outside our comfort zones and learning new skills, while also being so lighthearted and chill. We lazily lunched on alpine passes, we dipped in every freezing water-hole we found, we conquered tough slopes and solved puzzles in our planned route, and we laughed the whole time. Would jump at the chance to do another trip like this again!” -Bridget

My guided Alaska trips went great. The first group got to experience the wild arctic heat wave in the Brooks Range, we stayed high almost the whole time and it was sunny every day [and night].

For the second group the weather had turned and it was hypothermia-rain up high and bog down below, so after one night we bailed to plan b- I have backup permits in both the Alaska range and Chugach mountains, the idea being that three permits in three entirely separate weather systems means it can’t be hypothermia raining up high everywhere, and in fact it was not- in the Alaska range, in Denali State Park, it was sunny and warm so we went there and had a great time- there were no mosquitoes somehow?! and you could even see Denali, most nights, from camp.

Everyone on both trips became fast friends, as all the amazing people who somehow join my trips?! tend to do (one of my previous Utah groups is even getting together this fall for a reunion trip). There were many jokes shared- some of my favorite jokes were when the first group was walking through tall willow brush on the gravel braids of the river, where it’s smart to make noise for bears, they’d sing the tiktok refrain She’s so brave, she’s not afraid, she is well behaved, and they also named a particularly difficult drainage with loose, steep talus “The Devil’s Shortcut” and the pass to get out of that drainage, soft scree that was actually safe but was scary nonetheless because of how steep it was, “Satan’s Asshole”, and the deep, cold, aquamarine swimming hole we encountered on the other side of that pass “The Glorious Hole”.

In the second group, we decided that we’d be the first people to summit Denali on one long set of skis- imagine six people lined up, one behind the other, on a single set of skis- and the person in front would be “aura farming” like the kid on the front of the boat in Indonesian boat racing tiktok.

My Alaska trips are done for this summer, but if you want a similar vibe in the canyons of southern Utah (hiking cross-country, learning to use caltopo, all with a group of women, trans and non-binary people), there are a few spots left in my fall trips! People *love* the Utah trips. In zoom calls beforehand I'll teach you how to make a route in caltopo and if you don't feel like you have your gear and food dialed, we'll figure that out together! Five days backpacking in warm canyons, lots of side quests and laughter. Details and the application are here.

And of course, registration is now open for my beginner trips, in February- start from zero (no backpacking or camping experience), and leave with the confidence to plan a backpacking trip of your own! Plus eat KK’s inredible cooking at the rental house before we start the trip. Deets are here.

After my Alaska trips were done I had an urge to be untethered, responsible for no logistics but those of myself and my tiny dogs, so I borrowed a cooler from one neighbor, a bike rack from another neighbor and a dipnet from a third neighbor (my cabin neighborhood has a whatsapp group that is essentially people being like “does anyone have two eggs”, “whose dog is this” or, in winter, “lights are out”, “LIGHTS ARE OUT”) and drove five hours south, down the Richardson highway to Chitina, to try my hand at dipnetting there. Dipnetting is where you have a big net on the end of a long pole and you put it in the river when the sockeye salmon are running, to catch them. Only Alaska residents can do it, and there are a couple spots that tend to be good at certain times. The Copper River at Chitina is one of those places- the river is fast and deep and dangerous but there are rock ledges where you can perch with a PFD on while you dip your net in the water (some people even tie themselves off to the bank). I had never been to Chitina, and going alone with just my chihuahuas in tow seemed like the perfect sort of solo adventure. The good spots are five miles out on a rocky ATV trail so I brought my fatbike too- if you have an ATV that’s the easiest way to get out there, but if not a bike works just as well.

On the drive south I listened to I Who Have Never Known Men and was enchanted; what is it with books about the end of (our) world? These last years they’ve had such a hold on me, I even wrote one. Speculative fiction helps us grieve. If I grieve enough, maybe nothing can hurt me. If I live the rest of my life steeped in the awareness of my/our death, maybe it can’t take me by surprise. Why is that the very worst thing, to be taken by surprise? Always we are trying to anticipate pain, to get ahead of it. When death appears I’ll say “Oh there you are, finally.”

We are all living in this juxtaposition of heartbreak about our own deaths while still being alive. One could argue that things have always been this way, for humans, for mammals, for all life on earth. One could argue all sorts of things. One could argue!

What if I don’t argue. The highway I was driving south bisected the Alaska Range, the mountains rose up around me. There was a series of small towns on the map that, when I reached them, were only a gravel pit and a boarded-up gas station. There was a small town of neat, orderly little houses overlooking the lake that’s definitely a fundamentalist cult. Fundamentalist Christians- is that the right term for them? Groups that splinter off from Christian and Christian-adjacent religions because those religions aren’t conservative enough for them, and move to remote areas to live the way they want in seclusion. Those people love rural Alaska. They build tidy little villages. The women wear long skirts- one of them is on tiktok. They farm and commercial fish. If you start having children young enough, you’re trapped.

I left the Alaska Range and entered a more coastal weather system. Rain thrummed on the windshield. Chitina is a cluster of small, old buildings tucked into the mountains on Ahtna Athabaskan land. I found a free campground next to the Copper river, which is massive, glacial fed, and roils with silt. Bald eagles perched on its edges, alongside hundreds of gulls. The water was high. I asked a few people, and they said fishing wasn’t great.

The fishing was not great. I spent two nights sleeping in the back of my car, chihuahuas tucked against me, and during the day I fished in the warm rain. The good spots were five miles up a rocky ATV trail so I strapped the dipnet to my bike and pedaled out there, only to sit for a time on a rock ledge with my net in the water, waiting for fish that never came.

On the drive home I listened to Killers of the Flower Moon. The plot twists were so well layered, I couldn’t believe it was non-fiction. It was a good reminder that this country was built on injustice, has always been a certain way. Power-hungry narcissists feeding everyone and everything into the woodchipper of capitalism. But their power is just a construct. We all go into the woodchipper eventually, and then they go in too.

Back in Fairbanks, someone said that although Chitina was a bust, the Kenai river was hot for dipnetting this year. Just a short nine hour drive to get there. Maybe I should do it…

That’s all for now,

Carrot