The Essence of My Explorations

I have always wondered, what is around the bend? Where will this trail take me? What will I encounter along this river or lake? What is the fascination with the Inside Passage that has led me to explore sections of it for the last three years? Why do I want to go to the Yukon or the Northwest Territories, and if that isn’t remote enough, where does my fascination with the Northwest Passage come from?

As I am in the process of unwinding from my last exploration, just about a month ago, a sense of depression hits me. At a recent gathering of the Texas Chapter of the Explorers Club, I spoke to some fellow adventurers about this. All agreed that coming off the high of an exploration leaves you with a sense of depression in not knowing what’s next? To combat this, I take to planning the next adventure. Each of my last several forays has been more and more remote/off-grid. For my next trip, I have decided to explore Haida Gwaii, which is further north and even more remote. However, in my heart, I long to go to either the Yukon or the Northwest Territories.

As an ethnographer who studies Indigenous cultures, I either validate my research or I learn as much as possible about the people of the area I am about to explore. Were I to explore Haida Gwaii, I would be going to the ancestral homelands of the Haida Nation. The Dene and Cree have lived for centuries in the parts of the Yukon and Northwest Territories I long to see.

The majesty and splendor of rivers and mountains lure me. Places where people haven’t spoiled the land and water. Places where the marine and wildlife flourish. Places  Indigenous tribes and the First Nations, Metis, and Inuit people of Canada still call home.

Then, this morning, I opened a post from National Geographic entitled “Season of Wonder, The Northwest Territories”. It featured the work of a brilliant photographer, Ami Vitale.

In showcasing the province, she captured in one of her photographs (see below) things that are especially meaningful to me. I could not stop looking at it as it represents exploration, Indigenous habitation, and the remote wilderness I love.

With Permission and Photo Credit: Ami Vitale/National Geographic

The caption to the photograph says,

To watch Bobbi Rose Koe paddle the waters of her ancestral homeland is a privilege Vitale felt lucky to experience. Koe is Teetl’it Gwich’in (meaning “people of the headwaters”), and an advocate selected by Elders to speak for her people and their lands. “She helped me understand a lot,” says Vitale of her time with Koe. “The connection and the reverence to water; the comfort she has in these places—it was so beautiful to see,” says Vitale. “She is a life force. This is her place.”

I have been fortunate in that I have walked and paddled in places like these. Experiencing the beauty of the land is truly a religious experience. There is little wonder when I return to suburban Austin, Texas, that I can’t help but contemplate, how and when can I return? For it is places like these that I feel most alive, most at home, most at peace with myself and the world.