off the map, under the midnight sun

“No regrets,” I said to myself after arriving in Alaska this past summer. “I need to leave this place with no regrets.” For some time, this incomprehensibly astounding place—Alaska—had been my home away from Hamilton. With my parents moving away at summer’s end, I knew my ties to the last frontier would soon be severed. I had one last chance to enjoy an Alaskan summer. While stocking shelves and bussing tables had been a fine way to occupy my time in the past, this summer I looked for a more academic and outdoor-oriented activity. Eventually, I found the Alaska Wildlands Studies Program (AWSP), which takes a team on a three-week research expedition through the Wrangall Mountains.

During my journey with the AWSP, I ventured up high peaks, and across azul rivers of ice through some of the remotest locations of Alaska. New experiences included sleeping directly atop a big cube of ice and enduring the finger-numbing katabatic, or downhill, winds. While wearing a winter jacket in July seemed odd, extra layers of clothing were unquestionably necessary at the time.

One of our greatest adventures was making our way through the mazes, moulins, and crevasses to the top of a pile of rocks deposited by a retreating glacier. Over this moraine, or accumulation of debris, we enjoyed a view from the high peak that overlooked the three-mile copper mining town of Kennicott. With measuring instruments and my vague knowledge of trigonometry, I painted a watercolor of the glacier as it would have looked 150 years ago.
There was something refreshing about witnessing untouched wilderness. The sight of land that had not been corrupted by the machinery of our day evoked in me a greater sense of responsibility to protect the environment. I hope my story encourages others to do the same.

I set out this summer in search of Alaska’s wonders—and wonders I certainly found. I witnessed bears strolling through their natural kingdom. I endured the Alaskan solstice in my thinly-lined tent. I left footprints in places no one has ventured before. I stood no taller than a speck beside towering glaciers. I explored the depths of crevices and mesmerizing cerulean abysses. I watched the aurora borealis dance across the night sky.

After spending my last Alaskan summer off the map and under the midnight sun, I can truly say that I left without regrets. I can also say that one day, I’ll be back.

-joe kazacos ’10