Masks Aren't Just for Pandemics

Brian Sachs eating breakfast while being eaten by a swarm of mosquitos, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska (2020)

Not wearing a mask anymore? Trust me, fully vaccinated or not you will be begging to wear one if you dare backpack in Alaska.

We’ve all become accustomed to wearing a facemask over the past year during the COVID pandemic. As a protective measure to prevent the spread of the virus, masks were quickly mandated for those entering any public space. Businesses, government buildings and public transportation denied entry to anyone refusing to wear one. In fact, grabbing your mask as you left the front door soon became as commonplace as grabbing your keys and wallet.

Although many people viewed masks as little more than an inconvenience, others felt strongly that the requirement to wear one was a impinging on their freedom to make their own choices. Luckily, due to an aggressive vaccination program in the United States, the requirement to wear a mask in public is becoming less common. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), as of late June 2021 over 152 million Americans have been fully vaccinated. This represents nearly half of the US population. So we can now breathe a sigh of relief as we can finally ditch those pesky masks and fill our lungs with fresh air in public again. Not to mention we get to greet one another with a visible smile again!

Starting to see a light at the end of this COVID gauntlet sure does feel good. And not having to choke on my own breath behind a cloth mask anymore feels downright liberating. But nothing feels so freeing as escaping the noise and stressors of daily urban life to get outside for a little dose of nature. Now that travel restrictions are easing more and more every month it’s time to dig out that backpack and hiking boots and immerse yourself in Alaska’s legendary wilderness. You know, that bucket list trip you’ve always dreamed of taking?

I highly recommend visiting Wrangell-St. Elias National Park in southeast Alaska. Although it is America’s largest national park, few people have ever even heard of it. So that means you can avoid the big crowds regularly seen at the more popular parks like Yosemite, Yellowstone and Denali. That means that once the bushplane drops you off in the middle of nowhere, the first thing you will notice as the hum of the plane fades in the distance is the quiet. You will here utter silence, save the random bird chirping, leaves rustling in the wind or creek babbling. All of your senses will heighten as the tension in your shoulders relaxes. I’ll admit, although it can be quite unnerving at first, you will quickly become aware of a really rare experience in our modern times. I promise that you will smile in delight at the realization that you are truly alone. Or are you?

Flipping up the mosquito head net to take bites of food, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska (2020)

Just as you start to settle into your new blissful environment you may just be greeted by the camp host. Or more likely hundreds of little camp hosts. Depending on where you are and the time of year the mosquitos can quite bad. To say that they are legendary in Alaska would be an understatement. After all, mossies aren’t affectionately referred to as the Alaska State Bird for nothing.

I have been guiding and exploring the wilderness of Wrangell-St. Elias for over a decade and have always included a mosquito head net in my backpack. While hiking and moving around they typically aren’t a problem. As soon as you stop, however, they will attack immediately. So the most essential piece of gear that you can bring to ensure a relaxing, enjoyable campsite at the end of a long day is a mesh head net that weighs less than 2 ounces and stuffs down to the size of toddler’s fist.

Because I’m so used to carrying a head net on my Alaska trips I don’t typically give it much thought beyond it being a necessary item to bring like my tent or sleeping bag. But things were different last year. In the summer of 2020 the world had only recently been thrust into a global pandemic. Aside from the risk of becoming ill or dying, we were forced to make sacrifices necessary to prevent the spread and mitigate the damage caused by this virus. One of the simplest and effective strategies was to enforce the wearing of an approved face mask in public spaces. I was certainly happy to do my part by wearing one but breathing into a mask for long periods of time is not enjoyable. It becomes hot and uncomfortable and downright annoying after a while.

So when I could finally go out into a public space for a whole week but not be around any people except for my backpacking client I was elated. We had both been tested and confirmed negative for contracting the virus right before the trip so we could safely enjoy the Alaska wilderness without wearing our masks. Ironically, on the very first day of our 7-day trip the mosquitos were so bad that we eventually had to wear our head nets during the last couple of hours hiking. I can’t remember one other time in all my years of backpacking in the Wrangells that I had to do that! Really? So you mean to tell me I can finally take off my mask but now I need to wear another one?

These were some of the worst mosquito conditions I had ever seen. Anytime we would stop to take a drink of water we our heads were immediately engulfed by a massive swarm of those little bloodsuckers. So that meant we had to quickly lift the head net to take an even quicker gulp of water before too many mosquitos could attack our faces. As we continued toward our camp destination they relentlessly bit our bare arms and even managed to pierce through our clothing. Thwack. Slap. Ouch. Swat. Dammit!!! We repeated this little mantra for a couple of hours. All we knew was that the mosquitos were so vicious that they were maddening.

As we set up camp we realized that we would have to eat dinner as quickly as possible and then retreat to the safety of our tents. The bugs were just too bad to sit outside and enjoy the evening. We were ravenously hungry after 11 hours of hiking with heavy packs over a really steep, rocky mountain pass so we honestly didn’t care. But our hours long battle with trying to drink water through the mosquito cloud meant that eating our dinner without simultaneously becoming dinner was going to be a challenge. I’d like to say that we fought the good fight and enjoyed our meal but that would be a lie. As I recall, we ate so fast that I barely remember eating at all. And not only did I continue to collect more mosquito bites I’m pretty sure I bit into a few as well.

Prepared for mosquitos on the last night of our trip, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska (2020)

We continued to battle the mosquitos for the rest of the week but never were they even close in numbers as that first day. So I still wonder what was it about that day? Why were they so bad then but not any other day? Why were they so bad this year versus any of the other years? I simply don’t know the answers. But there is one thing that I do know. It’s a lesson that I’ve learned over and over in this wild place. Alaska always gives you exactly what you need. I thought that I needed to get away from the madness of the pandemic. I thought that I would find a freedom that was stolen from me and the rest of the world by a tiny virus. But there is no true escape from our hardships. In trying you will only trade one problem for another. In this case, one tiny virus for one tiny mosquito. One mask for another. All you can do is accept the situation and make the most of it.

Thwack! Damn mosquitos.

UPDATE: I wrote this article in the Spring of 2021 just before leaving for Alaska to guide for the summer. And to my surprise, I found that the bugs were much worse than than the previous summer (2020). Summer of 2021 was definitely the worst bug year that I have experienced my 12 year guiding career. Not only were the mosquitoes vicious but the little flies were even worse. Those flies relentlessly tried to enter the eyes, ears and nose. They didn’t bite, they just targeted the most sensitive and vulnerable areas of the face. I’m pleased to say that I really wasn’t even bothered by them. “Whatever”, I thought. After living through a pandemic for over a year I had definitely developed a new sense of gratitude. I was just happy to be in the most beautiful wilderness in the world. Besides, I brought my trusty headnet and it protected me from being eaten alive. What more could I want? Thwack, dammit!

Brian and I marveling at the swarm of mosquitoes and flies behind the protection of our headnets, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska (July 2021)

2021 Will Be the Best Year to Visit Alaska

Backpacking in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park (July 2020)

Have you ever dreamed of traveling to Alaska? Is it one of those places that has been on your bucket list your whole life? Well, if the answer is ‘yes’ (and I know it is) then you SHOULD go this summer. Trust me, 2021 is going to be the best year to visit Alaska in our lifetime.

How could I possibly know this? We’ll get that. But first let me ask you another question. What do you see in the photo above?

Roads? Nope

Trails? Nope

Trash? Nope

Crowds? Nope

Influencers? Definitely Not

Alaska consists of mostly true wilderness. In fact, it’s one of the last truly wild places on earth. Sure, it has more wildlife than you’ve ever seen anywhere else. And the mountains and glaciers are breathtakingly beautiful. But I think that it’s what Alaska doesn’t have that makes it truly special. The past year has been incredibly stressful for all of us due to the impacts of the COVID pandemic. So if you’re like me, you’re ready to get outside away from people and simply relax in nature. And there’s no place like Alaska to destress in the outdoors without having to compete with mobs of people.

Ok, now let’s get back to the question, “How could I possibly know that 2021 is going to be the best year to visit Alaska?” Well, I’ve been guiding there for 12 years. I’ve taken hundreds (probably thousands at this point) of people into the remotest of mountains and glaciers in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. My clients have been from everywhere around the world. But this year there will be far fewer visitors compared to a normal year. Sure, tourist numbers will certainly be noticeably higher than last year. But the total tourist count will pale in comparison to any “normal” year, including next year and the following years.

The COVID pandemic has been devastating for so many reasons. But I’ve never been one to dwell on the negative. I try to find the positive in any situation. And one such positive is that the pandemic has created sort of a ‘sweet spot’ so-to-speak for Alaska travel in summer 2021. This year travel restrictions will certainly be fewer and less of a hassle than last year. And with more and more people being vaccinated daily travel will simply be safer. Travel will start to sound more appealing in the coming months. Heck, it already does! We’re certainly not out of the woods yet with the pandemic but more people will likely feel comfortable traveling this year. And I’ll bet you’re one of them.

So I’ll say it again, 2021 is going to be the best year to take that dream vacation to Alaska. Traveling to Alaska will be easier than 2020 for three important reasons:

1) There are already fewer travel restrictions and that is likely to continue to improve throughout the summer.

2) There will be more tourists than last year but certainly far fewer than any normal summer. The biggest reason is that international travel restrictions will likely limit the number of foreign travelers that would typically vacation in Alaska. Fewer visitors means more of that pristine wilderness to yourself.

3) Most, if not all, businesses will be open and running at full capacity. The same could not be said for the summer of 2020. So there will likely be no restrictions on any places that you want to go or activities that you want to experience.

The stress and strain of the COVID pandemic has left many of us feeling stir crazy. There’s no better remedy for stress than getting outside in nature. And there’s no better place to experience nature than Alaska in my humble opinion. It’s called the Last Frontier for a reason. So I urge you to take that dream trip to Alaska this summer. Not only will it be a once-in-a-lifetime (hopefully!) opportunity to visit with fewer tourist numbers, but you will also be helping to kickstart the Alaska travel industry that suffered a severe blow by the pandemic in 2020.

Now go book that Alaska vacation! You won’t regret it.

Get Me Outta Here!

Bushwhacking in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska.

When is this going to end?!? This sucks! Dammit, why are we doing this? Is this really the best way? This is stupid. Can’t we just go around? I’m so sick of this crap. We’ve been suffering through this so long, it feels like forever. Are you absolutely sure this is the right way? I can’t even see two feet in front of my face. I can’t even see the sky. And I’m pretty sure I haven’t even touched the ground since we started. How much longer? Please tell me that we never have to do this again. SHWAK!!! Owwwww, that freaking hurt. Right in the f-ing face. Plaaahhh, cough, cough, spit. Guess I need to cover my mouth.

Wait, I think I see light. Holy cow I think I see light!!! Is that the end? Can that really be the end?!? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, it is the end. Yes, yes, YES!!! Whew, we finally made it. Wow, that was the absolute WORST thing that I have ever experienced. How long did that last, like three months? Oh, it was only 40 minutes. Well it felt like an eternity. How far did we go? A quarter mile, that’s it?!? Felt like seventeen miles. I never thought we would make it. I never, ever want to do that again.

Although that may sound oddly similar to how many of us are feeling during the COVID-19 pandemic, this is actually a very accurate portrayal of what it’s like to bushwhack in Alaska. I assure you that my words are not an exaggeration.

Anyone who has ever experienced a Grade 5 Bushwhack in Alaska will back me up. It’s no joke. The brush is so thick it is nearly impossible to move at times. The willows are so closely spaced that you can’t even touch the ground. You just kind of have to push your body over them and roll, fall or leap forward. The air is suffocating because there is barely room for light to enter your space much less allow anything but brushy bits into your mouth while breathing. Your clothes and backpack get stuck in the branches with every step and you’re constantly getting whacked in the face. It’s difficult, it’s painful and it’s definitely not fun.

Even if you begin your shwak with optimistic determination, within about five minutes you are over it. All you want is to be done with it but you are quickly reminded that Alaska doesn’t care what you want. You just have to keep pushing through knowing that it will eventually end. And you will be a stronger and better person for it.

So this whole pandemic has got me thinking about bushwhacking all of a sudden. Normally I try to avoid it at all costs unless it is absolutely necessary. But now I have a whole new attitude about shwakking. When I finally get up to Alaska again this summer I am going to seek out the brushiest, nastiest place I can find and dive right in. Why would I do such a thing? Well, it’s simple. Knowing what I know about Alaska, I’m confident that a good dose of shwakking gnar will make me look back at this pandemic and think, “Things can always be worse!”