Packrafting

The Alpacka with my pack attached. Contrary to the appearance, the pack is fastened across the boat's bow (front), not the stern, which has been turned up by the weight of the pack.

Hiking through the untamed Alaskan wilderness offers spectacular rewards, but it is almost always slow, and often brutally hard. Traveling a linear mile frequently takes hours.

The ranger in Bettles and several blogs mentioned what sounded like an appealing alternative: packrafting. Using a light-weight inflatable raft one could let the current carry you down the many rivers that divide the landscape. Rivers that normally were a barrier and danger to hikers could be a means of conveyance.

By going the packraft route, I could get dropped-off at one lake and then float down to be picked-up at another many miles away. Even better, packrafts are light enough that I could portage great distances with one, potentially exploring areas that would be impractical to travel through on either foot or traditional larger craft alone.

It sounded wonderful, but there were a number of downsides to consider. Most notably, while modern packrafts were incredibly light watercraft, they were still boats, albeit inflatable ones. The most widely recommended brand, the Alpackas, weigh just over 5 pounds with attached spray skirt. Plus, I would need a paddle, inflation bag, and PFD. Paddling gloves would probably be helpful in the cold rivers as well. In total, choosing the packraft route would add over nine pounds to my pack load.

I also had zero experience packrafting. But I had done some kayaking and canoeing and was generally comfortable on the water. The conditions on the Alatna were described as Class I-II rapids with a brief stretch of Class III above Ram Creek, with potentially low water for the first 25 miles (packrafts were noted for being able to handle much lower water than larger boats). I imagined I might have to portage or line the raft (walk beside the river holding a line to the floating raft) for some low stretches or the rapids, but would be able to lazily float enough miles to justify the added weight of the raft.

Finally, there was cost. Alpacka rafts are hand-made and expensive: over $800 not including a spray skirt or any of the necessary accessories, such as a paddle and personal flotation device (PFD). Buying all the gear outright would be over $1000. But I discovered that there was an outfit in Fairbanks, Northern Alaska Packrafts, that rented them by the day with discounts for longer trips. I spoke with the owner, Ed, who agreed to rent me a Yukon Yak (the second smallest raft) with all necessary accessories for $300 for two weeks. He also happily discussed possible routes and offered helpful suggestions.

I had yet to hear from a single source that packrafts were not the way to go. I decided to book the raft and planned my trip accordingly, extra weight be damned.

When I arrived in Fairbanks, Ed met me at my hotel to deliver in the raft and demonstrate how to inflate it, along with some basic repair instructions.

The Alpacka uses a rather clever method of inflation. Most of the inflation is done using an inflation bag, which works by squeezing the air out of a large nylon bag into the raft, until raft's body has taken shape. The last bit of topping off requires blowing into the inflation tubes. Here's an Alpacka employee how the bag works on YouTube:

After the raft is inflated, the seat cusion, back rest, and spray skirt band are inflated as well. Next, gear is stowed. Most guides recommend lashing your pack horizontally across the bow, straps down, careful to center the weight as much as possible left-to-right. The raft I had was equipped with a strap line, but I also used a pair of ladder straps to secure and center it (the straps were also used for attaching the raft to my pack when hiking, and acted as guy lines for the tent on windy nights).

Note: Inflatable craft needed "tempering"-- immersion in cold water causes the air in them to cool and contract, so they need to be topped-off after a while to remain fully inflated, not because they're leaking. Conversely, I was warned that a raft needs detempering if taken out of the water and left in the sun, otherwise the air may expand and burst the raft and/or seat!

I had my first opportunity to try the procedure on Day 3 of my trip, when I reached the Weyahok from a smaller tributary. With my limited whitewater experience, I was unsure what condition the river was in. It seemed full of bubbly rapids, but low in volume. I guessed it a Class II.

Choosing a relatively calm stretch, I inflated the raft and got in for a practice run without my pack. I went nowhere because my weight fixed the boat to the riverbed. I got back out and moved the raft deeper, and got back in. Success! I quickly floated down a hundred feet and had no difficulty steering the raft back to shore with the paddle. I attached my gear and was off.

When one hears of a new piece of backpacking gear that will work well in all conditions, be a joy to use, and nigh indestructible to boot, it never, ever actually works out that way.

Except this once.

The Alpacka Yak is an incredible piece of equipment. My meager paddling background was enough for me to steer the craft through the bumpy rapids. I watched with delight as meandering terrain that would take hours to traverse on foot went by in twenty minutes. Periodically, I would run into shallow water and find myself grounded. I shuddered as I felt the Alpacka drag against the rocky bottom, sure that it was developing numerous tears, but whenever I got up to line past these shallows, I found the bottom intact. I soon discovered a technique I called "planking" where I would stretch myself out flat as a board when running shallow. With my weight thus distributed evenly, the raft glided through water only a few inches deep, something I imagine no other craft besides an inner tube would be capable of.

The packraft was light enough to allow me carry it for miles while exploring, but a reliable enough that I could then raft some 60 miles of Alaskan river ranging from rocky shallows to swollen Class III rapids. With practice, I was able to switch from hiking to paddling my Alpacka in under ten minutes, including inflating the raft, strapping down the pack and getting underway. This came in handy on the second to last day when I had to carry my raft a short distance to the river, paddle for a half-hour, bushwhack through some woods and marsh to Circle Lake, then paddle across the small lake to setup camp.

At the end of my trip I decided to award the Alpacka my "Most Valuable Gear" award. I fully expect my next wilderness adventure to be planned around using one of these to extend my travel range.

Incidentally, you may be wondering about whether the Alpacka has any "dual-use" functionality. Reportedly, it can be used as a sled, although I did not have an opportunity to experiment with this. It does work well as a rugged ground cloth for my one-man REI Quarterdome T1 tent. I had hoped to use it semi-inflated as a sort of air mattress, but upside-down it's unstable (because of the curve of the boat) and right-side up it's got a big hole where you sit.

I fully expect some clever individual to design a sleep-shelter system centered around the raft as a cushioned floor and the paddles as tent poles. When they do, please let me know.

Additional resources on packrafting:

• Alpacka Rafts There are other makers of packrafts, but these are currently considered "best in class."
• The Roaming Dials, Roman Dial's blog, who wrote the book on packrafting.
• Erin & Hig's Alaska Trekking (these two are a little crazy if you ask me)
• Hidden in Plain Sight Blog entry about packrafting in the same area I was.