
“You can search for superlatives,” says author Ted Kerasote, “and run out of them.”
He was talking about the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR), a place he has visited repeatedly, drawn back each time by a “wonderful blend of mountain terrain and transition zone” on the edge of the polar sea.
“The coastal plain, a 40- to 60-mile-wide strip of tundra between the pack ice and the Brooks Range, holds an incredible display of caribou, bears, wolves, musk ox, birds and all those other animals. In July, its faunal diversity is practically unmatched. In my mind it ranks in the top 10 wildlife spectacles on Earth.”
For thousands of years, that remote coastal plain has been the calving ground of the Porcupine caribou herd – 120,000 animals that migrate every year between the interior and the coast. The area also happens to be a potentially large source of oil and gas, similar to the Prudhoe Bay oilfields 150 miles to the west.
This summer, there is a new reality in ANWR. The U.S. House has passed a budget bill that includes language clearing the way for the sale of exploration leases.
By itself, the bill does not open the refuge to drilling. Even if leases are granted, it would take years of exploring and construction before oil could flow. But the possibility is close enough to cause a surge of attention among travelers interested in ANWR. Bookings for guided trips are stronger than ever.
“This summer reminds me of 2001,” says Karen Jettmar, who operates Equinox Wilderness Expeditions, an Anchorage-
based company offering Alaskan adventure trips. In 2001, ANWR was also a political hot button. “People want to see the refuge before it changes.”
ANWR is a vast place – 19.6 million acres, nine times the size of Yellowstone. Frozen much of the year, it comes alive in summer. There are 180 species of birds, 36 species of land mammals, nine species of marine mammals and 36 species of fish.
The Brooks Range sprawls across the middle of the refuge, forming a high watershed. On the north slope, rivers drain toward the Beaufort Sea, through treeless foothills to the flat coastal plain. In summer, caribou migrate across that stage.
The most practical way to see it is to float the north-flowing rivers – notably the Kongakut – from the mountains to the sea. Travelers get there by chartered bush plane, which drops them by the river in the heart of wilderness.
Supporters of energy leasing say development will not damage the wilds. Energy extraction, they claim, can be done in a limited way, on a limited section of the refuge, with insignificant impact on animals or visitors.
Jettmar disagrees. “You can see a hundred miles up there. Anywhere you stand on the north slope of the Brooks Range, the view would be visually impacted. As soon as you got on the north side of the mountains, you’d know it. It would be a lot different from what it is now.
“If development occurs, there will be helicopters, airplanes, air strips, squads of researchers, even armed guards.” She predicts that the coastal plain itself will be off-limits, as it already is at Prudhoe Bay. For security reasons, unescorted travelers are not permitted to pass through the Prudhoe oilfields.
“It’s as fragile as glass,” says filmmaker Leanne Heuer. She and her husband, Karsten, spent six months following the caribou herd from winter range to calving grounds and back. The highlight of their journey, documented in their film, “Being Caribou,” was witnessing the birth of new calves. They watched from inside their tent, unable to emerge without causing panic among the animals.
They felt privileged to be there, but they also felt like intruders in a space too private for prying eyes. Asked if they would do it again, they say no. It wouldn’t feel right.
Supporters of drilling discard such attitudes as the airy-fairy thinking of squishy brains. As evidence that animals and development can coexist, they show photographs of caribou grazing among Prudhoe Bay oil rigs.
On the other hand, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, on its official ANWR website, warns that “studies have shown that caribou may be displaced from their traditional calving grounds when oil development occurs there.”
No one will know until it happens, if it does. One thing, however, is certain. Whatever impact development might have on wildlife, it will surely destroy the wilderness feeling of ANWR. That indefinable but powerful quality of Earth’s most wild and natural places is one of the main reasons people visit the refuge.



