June 28, 2015
By Celine Rytz (University of Vermont)
Things you might not expect to be receiving in the mail from your kid in summer school: tuft of grizzly bear fur, a handful of mountain goat wool, various dried and pressed subalpine shrub flowers as well as a hand written account of the adventures on mountain ranges and secluded forested lands tucked away so far North of the map that the summer’s sun refuses to set. But that is exactly what is making its way from Atlin to my parents as I write. (Full disclosure Mom and Dad: the postal service, like much else in Atlin gets done at its own unhurried pace. I might make it home before your letter does!)
Let me introduce myself as the first blogger of the 2015 Round River Conservation Studies summer program in Atlin, British Columbia. My name is Celine Rytz and I am a rising junior at the University of Vermont, majoring in Animal Sciences working towards double majoring in Wildlife Ecology in the coming years. Throughout my life I have maintained a strong love for animals, wildlife and the great outdoors. The irony in this ‘summer study abroad’ for me is that I am actually from British Columbia. Despite living in the same province as Atlin, I am more than 2,500 km south, which is nearly exactly the same distance as Los Angeles, California to Houston, Texas. British Columbia is a wild province with communities hidden in the untamed extremes of every corner, yet I was still surprised the community of Atlin and Taku Watershed were completely unfamiliar to me.
The hands-on field research and the interactions with wildlife such a program promises was all I needed to hear to commit to becoming a summer student with Round River. The encounters I have experienced in my own life with bears, wolf and moose have granted me the ability to see creatures up close that very few metropolitans will ever see and has taught me that these animals demand an immense amount of respect. The lessons I will learn with Round River this summer will provide me with a platform of knowledge to bring to the conservation and wildlife aspect of my studies and in my future career.
Arriving in Whitehorse, Yukon at 11:00pm I had a moment of confusion leaving the airport with my gear in tow as I walked into a clear sky with nearly full daylight. With the summer solstice only a few days away, the sun sets 11:30pm and rises 4:30am; the time between results in twilight sky, barely darker than when the sun is above the horizon.
One of our camp vehicles, affectionately named Big Mama began leaking antifreeze before our departure from Whitehorse. While we kept ourselves busy exploring Whitehorse for the afternoon, our minds were busy elsewhere imagining the adventures that awaited us in the unknown wild of Atlin. With the suburban fixed and packed we headed south to Atlin. Our home for the summer is a well loved wood cabin in Atlin that we will use as a communal home to study, eat and lounge. Technically, our homes are really our tents behind the cabin amongst the horsetail grass, white spruce trees and willow bushes. Falling asleep in the midnight light is not an easy task, but as each day passes we gladly retreat to our tents to sleep, satisfied with the adventurous day and the potential each new morning brings.
Atlin sunset, 11:30pm
Everything I have learned so far in Atlin has been taught in the field: hands on and in real time. No need for google searches or textbook refrencing. Round River’s strong belief that landscapes are powerful educators rings true here in the Atlin Watershed. Kneeling down to study a shrub or flower may seem childlike but it is down on the ground level where I can see for myself the interaction each flower and shrub plays with one another. Breathing the wild air and touching the bark, rocks and moss is far more memorable than the sterile, removed feeling of simply reading. The days have already begun to blur together with the numerous hikes, adventures and lessons learned.
Ranjit and Hannah enjoying the local flora
The Taku River Tlingit First Nation’s (TRTFN) culture is rich in history and our group was fortunate to watch and take part in a totem-raising ceremony, the first of its kind in the town’s 117 year history. The ceremony symbolized the fusion of the traditional heritage of the TRTFN and the younger generation, with students led by a master carver, Wayne Carlick, sharing the responsibility and honor of carving the totem for the town. The ceremony was both culturally informative and humbling, as we were able to experience the traditions and the close ties the First Nations community shares with the land and their history.
Grade 7-9 carvers of the totem pole, with elder and master carver Wayne Carlick, in traditional Tlingit regalia
Our daily hikes to Monarch Mountain, the Johnson range, Ruby Mountain, Mount Vaughan, and Sentinel Mountain showcase the Atlin area in their own unique way. Every hike was an adventure, unique of the one before it and was never disappointing. Pushing and sometimes surpassing our lactic thresholds on our group hikes, the 5 of us are exploring Atlin with all the flora and fauna the area has to offer.
Group photo atop Mount Vaughan with caribou antler
Our first overnight trip of the summer was to Sentinel mountain to track and observe mountain goats. Mountain goats inhabit extremely rugged terrain comprised of cliffs and ridges and we were able to see firsthand the strength, athleticism and balance these goats exhibit while climbing and foraging for shrubs and grasses. We set up our tents at the base of the highest peak alongside a pristine aquamarine-coloured lake. The wind was strong and sustained throughout the whole day with gusts that had us checking down the valley nervously to verify our tents hadn’t blown away in the wind. We joked throughout the day about being blown off the mountain or having our tents blown violently away in the wind, much like the tumbleweeds in the Wizard of Oz. However funny it was in theory, seeing Susie’s tent tumbling away from our lakeside campsite was no laughing matter and she hurried back to camp to rescue her tent and set back up. The thoughts of our tents blowing away was quickly pushed aside once we summited Sentinel Mountain and were able to see the Juneau Icefields, Atlin Lake and the herd of 25 mountain goats.
Juneau Ice Fields visible behind Atlin Lake; the view from the top of Sentinel mountain
A herd of mountain goats grazing on cliffs atop Sentinel mountain
At the heart of every great adventure story comes an incident of misfortune, usually told in hindsight with humor. The jokes about our tents blowing away stopped when we were returning to camp after a long day hiking and caught our first sight of camp since summiting Sentinel a few hours earlier. It appeared all of our tents were completely flattened, upturned or flapping violently in the wind. The jokes suddenly lost their comedic value and we hurried back to camp to assess the damage done. Not one, not two, but all three of my tent poles were broken from the wind and the tent was collapsed in a discouraging heap. Homeless at the top of a mountain in a wind storm: the Atlin adventure story has now begun. Luckily thanks to the number of tents we brought on the trip, Grace and I were able to move temporarily into Ranjit’s tent; grateful to have a roof over our heads, even if it was the windiest (and loudest) nights of our trip thus far. Needless to say, we didn’t take our time packing up and hiking home the next morning.
View of our campsite: the small green, orange and white dots above the lake
The last part of my blog is about our time with Nan Love, a local Atlinite who has endearingly been named “Round River’s surrogate grandmother.” She welcomed us into her rustic and charming house for dinner after our breezy trip to Sentinel mountain. Sitting amongst the collection of feathers, rocks and other miscellaneous goods and artwork she has collected in the mountains in her time in Atlin, Nan shared amazing stories of her daily interactions with wildlife, the cold and sometimes-horrid winters and the front row view of the Aurora Borealis northern lights she has from her bedroom window.
With each day passing our gear becomes a little more worn, our clothes a little dirtier and our appearance a little more wild… Summer school rocks.