by Kaelie Coleman, University of Puget Sound
When someone says an experience is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, they rarely mean that it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. In actuality, what they mean is “this will be a rare opportunity that may be hard to access, but ultimately won’t be impossible.” For this reason I tend to be a little skeptical when someone tries to pass something off as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This skepticism has generally served me well, but occasionally it’s time to set aside my rather jaded nature and consider the possibility that some experiences quite simply are unique. I’m rather glad that I made an exception for Round River.
A tradition of the Round River experience in Atlin British Colombia is the yearly trek into the Nakina CALL. Annually a group of students is welcomed onto a trail that has been utilized by all manner of life. From bears to the Inland T’lingit First Nation, the Nakina trail is an integral part of life in the region and has been for as long as there has been a record. Two weeks ago, myself, a group of seven other students, and four Round River leaders set off on the 60 mile trek to reach the river in order to spend three days basking in the sun, baking in the sauna, and eat so many salmon we would scandalize a grizzly. At least, that was the plan.
Our reality deviated slightly from the plan. The trail in was a breeze (at least as easy as a trek of that length can be) thanks to the incredible hard work of John Ward, who has been opening the trail for thirty years. The trouble lay not in the land, but in the sky, which quite simply refused to stop dropping rain on us. Not a day went by when we didn’t receive at least a sprinkle of rain, and the downpour caused the river to rise so high that it became quite difficult indeed to catch much of anything. The sauna was luckily in perfect condition though.
Each day hours were spent casting and recasting for salmon, and luckily the river was feeling kind a few times a day so we supplemented nearly every meal with fresh caught salmon or Dolly Varden. Those meals were hard won and tasted all the sweeter (fishier?) for it.
Mark and Will preparing a fish for lunch
It was our last morning when I decided that I wasn’t leaving without catching a fish. Throughout the day we enjoyed brief periods of light, but the majority was spent wiping our eyes and watching our footing on the wet ground. The conditions didn’t seem to dampen our spirits as there was at least two people manning our lines at all times. The only exception to that was when we walked a ways down upstream, as close as the flooded confluence as we could manage, to make an offering of tobacco and gratitude to the river. Once we returned I took up my station at the fishing pole once again. The rain was the worst I had seen on the trip when I cast so badly that I though I had hit the cliff laying directly to our left. The Nakina must have heard our thoughts and appreciated our nicotine because that cast – easily the worst of the day – resulted in a pink salmon clamping onto my line.
The downpour continued while my friend Joe and I prepared the fish and got it all cooked up. And I swear to the river and everything else sacred in this world that it was the best food I have ever eaten.
While Nakina was not exactly what we expected, the experience was certainly more than imagined in the best possible way. The sun may have only filtered through the clouds a few times, but I wouldn’t have traded those rays hitting the cliff across from our camp for all the heat of the Bahamas. The fish might not have been leaping onto our lines, but the time spent laughing with friends while eating a hard won and long sought catch was well worth the wait. Our three days on the Nakina were spectacular, but not because they were easy or because they fit the parameter of a normal good day. Nakina was spectacular because the people were engaging, the land was filled with history, and because we had been accepted into that place with incredible grace and kindness by those who grew up watching the river rise and fall.
For my time there I will always believe in once-in-a-lifetime chances.
Sun hitting the cliffs across from our camp