Sank you for reading

I learned about quicksand in Alaska

I was on a trip with four other guys in Gates of the Arctic National Park as a part of a "the Y" camp, Widjiwagan. We were about halfway through a 40-day trek and were had been making good progress that day.

We had been walking through a flat river valley filled with sand and rocks, which made for great terrain compared to soggy tussocks. We had gone maybe 5 miles so far and the endless days meant that we could go as far as we wanted.

The stream we were following made a wide bend ahead around a grassy hill. We decided to take the obvious short-cut and go up and around the hill. We hiked up a small incline and found ourselves in front of a flat field of grass and dirt, which might have made a wonderful camping spot.

I walked ahead and with each step I found it to be less nice a place for a tent. A small pond at the base of the hill fed into the clay dirt field and made the ground wet and sloppy. I kept a brisk pace and was able to walk through it for a short time, but it became difficult as the clay grew deeper. I stopped to tell the others to turn around and then I began to sink.

I tried to lift one foot, but just pushed the other deeper. I tried to diffuse the weight, but I still sank, my backpack not helping me any. I turned and asked for help, the others watching my plight from firmer ground. Shawn came, but could not get too near without sinking himself. He said he could take my pack and I should dig myself out. This whole time the clay had rose up past my knees and was now around my thighs. I took the pack off and flung it to him as best I could and he dragged it away.

Luckily I seemed to have reached the deepest point, and stopped sinking, but I had to get myself out. I couldn't lift my leg or yank it out, I had to dig. I clawed clay away from me as quick as I could before more flooded in around me. I soon was able to pry one foot out and rest it, ballet-like, on top of the clay. I clawed the other out and rolled, crawled, and lurched back to dry land.

We had a brief water break, and a laugh, and then continued around the pond and up the hill, the clay around my legs drying and caking. I could feel it seep into my boots and socks with each step.

We made it over the hill and came back down to the stream where I was able to wash off my legs in the arctic water. How easy the earth can pull you in before you realize what happens. This wasn't exactly quicksand, but it was close enough. How strange that I came to the mountains, and sank.