Our place in the food chain

And other lessons from the Western Arctic

By Peak Design

October 4^th, 2024

Meet Oliver Ambros, Peak Design's Supply Chain Sustainability Manger. You might recognize him from our recent film At The Expense of Nobody, which chronicles the impact of Fair Trade Certification for factories.

Oliver recently joined some folks from other outdoor brands and conservation organizations on a trip to Alaska's Utukok River Uplands Special Area. The purpose of the trip was to allow more people to see and understand the value of this special wilderness. Below, Oliver shares his thoughts on humankind's obligations on this planet—to places like the Western Arctic, and to ourselves.

The rest of this story is in Oliver's words.

A bush plane is the only way to access the Utukok River Uplands Special Area, but flying is also the first piece of the puzzle in appreciating the sheer size of the region. Even then, the arctic land of tussocks, rocky ridges, snow patches, and the abundance of life camouflaged amongst it all seems to roam over the horizon endlessly.

Few people will experience this area in 2024 - while estimating an exact number is hard, it is more akin to the crowd at your kid’s soccer game than that of an emerging band’s show at your local watering hole. Sitting in a 1955 bush plane alongside some of my peers from Alaska Wilderness League, Patagonia, Alaska Wild, Alpacka Rafts, and Biodiversity Funders Group, the rarity of our being here does not go unnoticed and is certainly not taken for granted.

Located in the shadow of the Brooks Range, the area is home to the headwaters of the Utukok River, a 225-mile-long waterway that empties into Kasegaluk Lagoon and the Chukchi Sea. It is the largest of the five special areas at approximately four million acres, or about 22 percent of the Western Arctic.

Though the Utukok River Uplands Special Area may be seldom traveled by humans, life there is abundant. The grassland ecosystem is a complex web of diverse flora and fauna, each navigating the extreme variances of life in the arctic. In our brief four days we interacted with grizzly bears, caribou, wolves, wolverines, moose, golden plovers, gulls, ptarmigans, eagles, hawks, muskox, fox, marmots, and countless other wildlife that call this land home.

Our bush pilot, Jim, looking out across his backyard, the West Brooks Range.

After a quick flight from Anchorage to Kotzebue, it was time to lug our gear to our bush plane HQ.

Looking back towards where we came from as we hiked up Archimedes Ridge. The Utukok River can be seen winding through the background.

A view of Kotzebue, our first taste of Arctic conditions and the never-setting sun.

A look back at our camp, located on a bank of the Utukok. The river fell significantly in the short period we were there.

A classic Western Arctic perspective: water and willow thickets. One cannot travel in this region without encountering both at every turn, making foot travel difficult.

Looking down at the West Brooks Range from our flight in towards The Utukok River Special Area.

Aileen looking back at Kotzebue after take off.

Setting up basecamp in one of the most remote places in the world means being prepared for ANYTHING. That means lugging tons of gear.

Caribou stands as one of the most important species to the area. This region serves as the calving ground and insect relief habitat for the Western Arctic caribou herd, which number in the hundreds of thousands. More than 40 villages across the northwest Arctic and Norton Sound region rely on the caribou as a subsistence resource and all of the wildlife relies on the caribou migration and calving for the continuation of its ecosystem health.

In this remote place, my notion of the barriers that separate “human” from “animal” quickly dissolved with the realization that we were just another animal surviving in the rugged Western Arctic. It was a humbling realization made more apparent by every interaction with wildlife there, especially the caribou.

Sitting upwind of migrating caribou herds, we were able to interact with them in extremely close quarters. Just as we checked them out and watched their mannerisms, they checked us out, curious about this infrequent visitor. Outside looking in, it boiled down to a pair of species interacting within the shared ecosystem. In the words of wildlife activist and ethereal hero to the Peak Design team, Doug Peacock, in places like this, humans are “just another flavor of meat.”

During those moments watching caribou and being made aware of my unexceptional position in the animal kingdom, I reflected on a key difference between the animals and us humans: the ability to use our voices to express our needs and advocate for ourselves. Tasty though we may be, with this great differentiating power of voice comes the responsibility of using it for the voiceless, and in this case, the hundreds of species that rely on the preservation of the Utukok ecosystem for survival.

Land preservation comes in many forms. Currently, the Utukok region is classified as a Special Area, a unique designation to Alaska that ties back to a convoluted history involving Petroleum Reserves and the Navy, all coming to a head with Congress’ passing of the NPRPA in 1976. Essentially, these Special Areas, which are managed by the Department of the Interior, are provided “protection to areas of the reserve with significant subsistence, recreational, fish and wildlife, or historical or scenic value.” However, this protection currently does not prevent oil or gas leases, rather it is ‘is an attempt to draw a line around an area that has a number of these significant values and in theory, any oil and gas activities there, if allowed to go forward, need to be done more carefully than might be done elsewhere.’ Thus, a Special Area is indeed special in its own way.

Our lead guide and Arctic expert, Nancy Pfeiffer. Her knowledge of the flora and fauna and the interactions within the ecosystem is masterful.

It is important to understand this distinction. The Utukok Special Area, unlike its regional neighbors of Kobuk Valley National Park and Gates of the Arctic National Park, is not a park. Its sole purpose is not to celebrate nature for human pleasure, and it shouldn’t have to for it to be deemed worthy of preservation. The worthiness comes from the many silent residents that rely on this unique region for the advancement of life in the form of migration, calving, and seasonal growth.

Though if we must have a human reason for its protection, it is clear that this area is a testament to and snapshot of the vast and varied history of Earth and the numerous species that inhabit it. It is a harsh place, and therefore perhaps one of the more accurate remaining depictions of what Life had to endure historically to get to where it is now.

Crossing the cold Utukok required pack rafts and patience.

An arctic rainbow following a rainstorm. We were out hiking when the rain came, instantly soaking us. This rainbow a few hours later made it all worth it.

The entire group looking out over the rolling hills of the region, where the views go for miles and miles.

In time spent both hiking and patiently sitting still in the Utukok, our group quickly became sensitive to the subtleties of Life: The sweet cranberries one can forage amongst the tussocks; the quick, silent, and beautiful transition from a brown grassland to a lush green grassland in the progression from spring to summer; the feisty whims of the weather that shift from sweat-inducing sunshine to hypothermia inducing rain storms and winds; the ferocious bugs that relentlessly feed on us animals in stable conditions and disappear when the winds pick up; and the ankle deep waters of the lands, a sign that 3-5 feet below it all lies year round permafrost. These subtleties of Life come in forms humans may assign as either “positive” or “negative,” but to the current wildlife of the Utukok and the millions of years of evolving nature before us all, these elements simply capture the history of what makes up Life on Earth.

There are few places remaining where this natural progression of both “positive” and “negative” elements pushes forward without being manicured by man. Arguably it is one of the rarest things on planet Earth today. Contrary to devaluing it, that the area is not readily accessible to humans actually justifies its rare worth and unique value in the consideration of preservation.

The United States should have parks where all people can access the trails, wildlife, roads, and spectacular affairs that our special ecosystems provide, and we do in places like Yosemite, Yellowstone, Smoky Mountains, and Acadia. Likewise, we should have lands where balance exists between man’s ability to shape the landscape through resource extraction and development. Yet those two types of conservation do not capture the entirety of the value derived by nature. Places without easy human access also warrant protection for the simple fact that in preserves like the Utukok Special Area we are able to both recognize the inherent value that Life of all species has, while also providing a voice for the many species that are unable to speak on their own behalf. Without continuing to emphasize this third option of preservation, we erase not only the future of many species, but also the history of Life that led humans to the incredible places we are today.

A fresh and tasty harvest of cranberries.

Two caribou migrating north. These are the stragglers of the mass migration, which numbers in the hundreds of thousands.

Evidence of caribou migration along the banks of the Utukok River.

Our other master guide, Lydia Blanchet, foraging in the tussocks for berries.

One of the exciting animal sightings was a wolverine! Soon after the event, we continued to track the footprints in the snow.

Without binoculars, it is nearly impossible to navigate this region and make the most of wildlife sightings. The animals blend into the landscape around them.

So what is next for the Utukok and all the other Special Areas of the Western Arctic? Though these public lands have irreplaceable biological, cultural, historic and subsistence value, the NPRA, and the Special Areas within it, is facing compounding threats from increasing climate change and encroaching development that threaten the integrity of these important ecosystems.

Recently, the Biden administration finalized a rule that expanded protections for 13 million acres of the Western Arctic, but critical areas remain unprotected and vulnerable to extractive industrialization. Now, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) has issued a request for information as to whether or not additional areas in the Western Arctic should be considered for additional protections.

As I write this, we are no longer in the Utukok, yet life for the hundreds of flora and fauna continues to buzz onward within the ecosystem. By now, the sun is slowly beginning to show up for shorter periods each day and the species sense the impending return of winter.

It is easy to forget that places like the Utukok carry on without us there, as our day to day lives slip back into the normalcy that circulates between meetings, projects, time with friends and family, and chores. But let’s not forget that we have an ability to pipe up about things we care about.

We may just be “another flavor of meat,” but we hold the unique gift of voice and expression. So let’s use it for what matters to us most.

Peak Design has joined other brands and organizations in formally requesting BLM to expand public land protections in America's Western Arctic. You can do the same here. Or, if you're interested in learning more, we recommend you check out the work Alaska Wilderness League is doing.

Camp livin'. Following a rainstorm, the crew found an innovative way to dry our soaked clothes.

Foot travel in the region is very hard, due to the tussocks, willows, and ankle deep water at every step.

The best way to experience the vastness was to get high! So high we got, hiking up the ridges that surrounded us.

Footnotes

Special thanks to my wonderful and motivated peers: Aileen Ottenweller, Claire Goodrich, Eliza Phillips, Sarah Tingey, and Monica Scherer, and to our inspiring guides who know this land better than anyone: Nancy Pfeiffer and Lydia Blanchet.