About 10 years ago, before retiring, I worked for a Native-owned consulting firm in Anchorage, Alaska. We were hired by the tribal council in remote Arctic Village, far north near the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, to evaluate providing an all-season access route to a major subsistence area called Old John Lake, about 13 miles east of the village.
Subsistence activities such as hunting, fishing, birding and berry-picking are primary pursuits that feed local village residents all year. But the current route was almost impassable in the summer due to thawing of the tundra. Many villagers were not able to get to this important subsistence site.
Project engineer Andi and I flew to Arctic Village and stayed in the local school, as there were no public accommodations in the village. Have sleeping bag, will travel!
We met our village contacts and local elders in the morning. It was early October. The ground was hardened by frost, but there was no snow. The sky was a cloudless blue and the sun was shining bright. It was chilly but the slight breeze was fresh. Andi and I were handed off to experienced locals who piloted our four-wheelers along the access route while we sat behind.
I chatted with John, my driver and guide, as we waited to begin our excursion. John had been away from the village for a few years, but recently relocated back home. He’d just started a family and intensely desired to stay in the village. Even though subsistence provided much needed to survive, John required ready cash from time to time. But jobs were scarce. Most steady employment was with the school or at the health clinic and those jobs tended to be few and specialized.
John said he cut and loaded wood for several villagers who could no longer do so and picked up occasional day work such as driving me for this project. But it wasn’t enough, and he worried about being able to provide for his family. I realized that economic impact was important to our work. Nothing works without some cash economy, even where food resources are abundant.
We left the village. The terrain was rolling but soon we encountered steeper hills interspersed with low, ice-crusted muddy areas in the swales. All went smoothly until we encountered a very steep, totally frozen hill with open ice patches and ridges in the mud tracks. John took his time to scout out the ascent. He told me to hold on tight and gunned the four-wheeler. We made it to the top safely, but my heart was in my mouth.
John said if we didn’t go back to the village on a different trail, I’d have to get off and walk down this hill later that day. I figured I might just scoot down on my butt. Thankfully, we went back on a different trail.
A little later, John stopped the four-wheeler, and we got off to stretch our legs. My fingers were numb from holding onto the frame so tightly. I looked out across the river valley and there was the sparkling, shiny Chandalar River and stands of white and black spruce interspersed with glowing, golden, tamarack trees. The mosses and lichens were bright red, orange and yellow with splotched leafy Labrador tea, bearberry and snowy cotton grass.
The air was so clear, and the quiet especially intense to my city ears. But it was also serene and calming. I was reminded of visiting old cathedrals in Europe. This tranquil, beautiful environment was a chapel every bit the equal of those.
John gestured with his chin toward the vista and said, “This, this is why I live here.”
I looked at the valley below and, for just a moment, I wished I lived there, too.
We finished our reconnaissance tour and reconvened in the village where Andi and I presented next steps to the tribal members. We let them know that the following year would bring a lot of activity to the village. Surveyors would flag an alignment. They would be followed by the geotechnical investigation, the wetlands identification and the archaeological survey. There would be a draft report by the end of that year.
These activities used up the village’s small project budget. The ultimate project could turn into something very different by the time construction funding was to be acquired.
A couple of years ago, the Arctic Village Tribal Council hired a Fairbanks engineering firm to redesign the road project to a smaller, shorter, trail segment project. The smaller project was in a better position to access multiple funding sources. A construction grant was awarded last year. Construction could begin as early as summer 2024.
It takes a lot of time, effort and perseverance to make a large project like this happen. Congratulations and good luck for the future, Arctic Village.
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