By Cadence Cedars
As I awaken from a night of camping in the Yukon wilderness, a chill in the air prompts
me to burrow deeper into my cozy sleeping bag. Relishing the warmth for just a few more
moments, I listen to the soft rustling of the trees and the gentle caress of the wind against the
fabric of the tent. With a reluctant sigh, I reach for my watch, its dim light illuminating the early
hour: 05:51 AM. Glancing over at Alisson, still deep in slumber, I gather the resolve to leave the
comfort of my warm cocoon. Slowly, I unzip the sleeping bag and slip out, greeted by crisp
morning air that nips at my cheeks. Peeking my head outside, I am met with a playful breeze that
tousles the front strands of my hair. Stepping into my boots, I embark on a quiet journey towards
the nearby riverbank.
The sun, barely risen, casts long shadows across the rugged Yukon landscape, painting
the terrain in hues of amber and gold. As I approach the water’s edge, the tranquility of the scene
envelops me. Across the river, trees sway in unison, their dance synchronized with the rhythm of
passing clouds. Mesmerized by the beauty of nature’s symphony, I lower my gaze and notice a
glimmer amidst the rocky ground. A piece of quartz, catching the early morning light, beckons
me closer, reminding me of the hidden treasures scattered throughout this vast wilderness. The
plan for today is to hike Biederman Bluff, a monumental feat in the heart of Alaska’s rugged
terrain.
Sitting down to savor my breakfast of instant oatmeal, accompanied by the refreshing
taste of water from a canteen, or perhaps the lingering sweetness of cinnamon, memories flood
my mind of the bluffs back home on the Kuskokwim River. Comparatively diminutive in size,
they pale in comparison to the majestic grandeur of the Yukon Bluffs that loom before me. These
colossal formations stand as silent sentinels, adorned with spruce trees clinging to their vast
stature, a testament to the untamed wilderness of this land. With our gear packed, we embark on
our journey, launching our rafts onto the river’s gentle current.
Anticipation crackles in the crisp Alaskan air as we paddle downstream, the scent of pine
mingling with the distant rush of the river, painting a picture of adventure waiting just beyond
the horizon. Each stroke of the paddle propels us deeper into the heart of Alaska’s wilderness,
where every bend of the river holds the promise of discovery and wonder. As we draw closer to
our destination, the remnants of a past wildfire come into view, casting a solemn reminder of the
untamed forces that shape this land. Undeterred by the charred landscape, we prepare to
disembark and begin our ascent of Biederman Bluff.
Traversing the trail up Biederman Bluff, the landscape unfolds in layers of natural beauty.
The warmth of the air envelops me, accompanied by the persistent hum of insects flitting about,
coming to check us out, new flesh. Each step forward brings me deeper. The path meanders
through thickets of bushes and shrubs, their branches reaching out to greet me with an occasional
slap to the face. Yet, despite the obstacles, there is a sense of serenity in the surroundings.
Sunlight filters through the spruce above, casting intricate patterns on the taiga floor, where the
vibrant hues of autumn leaves mingle with the evergreen foliage of the taiga.
Ascending higher, the air grows cooler, tinged with the invigorating scent of mossy air.
The trail becomes steeper, demanding more from me. I find myself relying on my hands as much
as my feet, using gloves to grip onto the rough terrain and steady myself against the ascent. Each
grasp brings with it a tactile connection to the earth, as thorns and twigs snag at my gloves. Yet,
despite the challenges, there is a sense of exhilaration in the climb, a feeling of being truly alive
amidst the raw beauty of nature. With each pull upwards, I am drawn further into the embrace of
the wilderness, my senses alive to every sight, sound, and scent that surrounds me.
Emotions surge like the wind gusting against the cliff face as I ascend higher. Memories
of past hikes intertwine with the present, each step a testament to the journey I have undertaken.
The surrounding scenery, a symphony of nature’s grandeur, captivates my senses. Towering
pines stand sentinel amidst a carpet of sage that blankets the taiga floor, painting a picture of
serene wilderness. The crackling of twigs underfoot, the earthy scent of sage hanging in the air—
it is as if the world itself is whispering secrets to me, inviting me to become one with its rhythms
and cycles.
Covered in a tapestry of twigs, needles, and leaves, I feel not just like an observer of
nature but a part of it, woven into the very fabric of existence. With each step, the bluff narrows,
leading me closer to the edge where the world unfolds in a breathtaking panorama. To one side, a
river snakes its way through the landscape, while on the other, mountains rise in silent reverence.
The juxtaposition of elements, the fluidity of water against the permanence of rock, evokes a
sense of awe that stirs something deep within. A creek cuts through the bluff, its gentle waters
carving a path towards the river below.
The sun beats down relentlessly, its warmth tempered by the cool breeze that sweeps in
from the cliff’s edge. Yet, amidst this natural splendor, I find myself disrupted by a persistent
nuisance. Flies, drawn by the scent of charred trees, swarm around me, their incessant buzzing
disrupting the tranquility of the moment. Despite my attempts to swat them away, they persist.
Standing there, high above the ground, I cannot help but entertain a fleeting thought – what if
these flies were to distract me to the point of misstep?
The image of tumbling over the cliff edge flashes in my mind, the rush of wind, and the
sound of crashing waves hauntingly vivid. It is a sobering reminder of the thin line between
serenity and danger, between the sublime beauty of nature and its unforgiving harshness. Before
me, a vast expanse of nature unfolds, a masterpiece painted in hues of green and gold. Even
amidst the captivating scenery of Alaska’s wilderness, scars etched into the land serve as
haunting reminders of its raw power and unforgiving nature.
The remnants of last year’s wildfires cling to the landscape like solemn specters, leaving
behind a somber tableau of blackened trees and scorched earth. Their presence serves as a
poignant reminder of the fragility of life in this rugged terrain, where every breath is a testament
to resilience. In the midst of such untamed beauty, surrounded by towering peaks and crystalline
lakes, I feel a profound sense of connection to the natural world—a connection that transcends
words and defies explanation.
It is a humbling experience, to be so small amidst such grandeur, yet it is also incredibly
empowering, a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity. In that
fleeting moment, as the wind whispers through the trees and the distant cry of a lone eagle
echoes across the valley, I know that this journey will be etched in my memory forever.
Descending from the bluff is tough, with each step a careful negotiation with the rugged terrain.
The once thrilling climb now seemed like child’s play compared to the challenge of making my
way down. Every move felt precarious, with the threat of losing my footing and tumbling down
the steep incline looming over me.
The air was heavy with the scent of pine and earth, the aroma of the taiga floor mingling
with the sharp, invigorating fragrance of the spruce trees that surrounded us. With each breath, I
could feel the cool, crisp air filling my lungs, rejuvenating me even as the challenge of the
descent wore on. Grasping onto anything I could find for support—a sturdy tree branch here, a
shrub there—I slowly descended. Relief flooded over me as I shortened the distance to the
bottom, my muscles, and ankles tense from the strain of the descent.
I caught up with Alisson; we shared a laugh over our humbling misadventures on the way
down. Her back is smudged with dirt, twigs tangled in her hair—clearly, she has gone through
more of a challenge than I. As we continued, the terrain remained unforgiving, with uneven
ground threatening to twist my ankles at every turn. The warmth of the sun on my skin was a
welcome change from the cool shade from the spruce; I shed my jacket, tying it around my waist
as I embraced the comfort of the sun’s rays.
Emerging from the trees, I found myself by a serene creek, its gentle flow a soothing
backdrop to the sounds of nature. Taking a moment to rest, I closed my eyes and listened to the
birds chirping overhead, the creek meeting the river beside me. Feeling a gentle tickle on my
arm, I opened my eyes to find a ladybug crawling across my skin. The vibrant red of its shell, the
delicate patterning of its wings, the minuscule legs carrying it on its journey. Watching it for a
moment, I could not help but smile and let it be. Laying back in the sun-dappled clearing, I
closed my eyes once more, letting the warmth of the sun and the gentle embrace of nature
envelop me as I savored the tranquility of the Yukon.
As I reflect on this intense experience, I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude and
appreciation for the profound connection I forged with nature. Every step of the journey, from
the tranquil morning by the riverbank to the challenging ascent of Biederman Bluff and the
humbling descent back to solid ground, has left an indelible mark on my soul. This experience
has been most transformative, and I am filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the opportunity
to immerse myself in the natural world.
I am still catching my breath.
