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)