ANCHORAGE, Alaska—
The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge is turning 50 years old -- although the valleys, streams, and mountains are much older than that. They’re being documented by a panoramic photographer, who is sharing his wish to keep ANWR forever untamed through his book, “Arctic Sanctuary.”The refuge is a far-off place most people have never visited, and probably never will. But in Jeff Jones’ many pictures, they're reminded of ANWR’s existence, its colors alive in every shot.
“Is this one of my favorite pictures?” Jones said, inspecting some of his work. “Absolutely, it's a beautiful image -- but there are other images that speak to me equally as much for different reason.”
In an area the size of South Carolina, it's a wonder that only 1,000 travelers see it each year.
“People want to know wild places exist,” Jones said. “It may well be that no modern person has walked in this part of the refuge.”
ANWR is the crown jewel of America’s wild lands, and particularly inviting to photographers like Jones.
“There are no roads, no buildings, no trails, no signs,” Jones said. “It's remote; it's tucked up in the northeast corner of Alaska. The only way to start a journey in the refuge is to fly in.”
Over the last 28 years, Jones has made more than a dozen trips to ANWR, backpacking through a spectrum of landscapes: lowland tundra, mountains, boreal forest, taiga, and Arctic coastline.
“The refuge is a photographic paradise for me,” Jones said.
For ANWR’s 50th anniversary, Jones was asked by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to whittle several thousand photos down to just 50, but that seemed too few -- so he picked out 150 of his favorites.
“I know a lot more than you see in this picture: I know what the temperature was like, I know what the wind conditions were like, I know what the air tasted like -- that I bring to this,” Jones said.
Nearly 24 hours of sunlight makes it nearly impossible for a photographer to pull his eye away from the horizon and rest.
“I think I shot this around 2 a.m. while floating this river,” Jones said.
Also, simple tasks like recharging the batteries of Jones’ Nikon camera made for their own set of challenges, which he solved with solar power. Energy is a big part of survival in the refuge.
“We went through a half-dozen eggs, and then he cooks up a stack of pancakes and it was not too much food -- having all the calories up there is really important,” Jones said.
This election season, Jones has been reminded of the debate between those who want to tap the oil wealth beneath ANWR, and those who want to protect the rich landscape and wildlife thriving above. He hopes his book will remind people to think about the value of every resource.
“What attracts me to the landscape is this vastness, these sweeping lines and curves,” Jones said.
The former biology teacher knew it was a long way from his home in Santa Barbara, Calif., but other details were sparse.
“Typically, what people know about the refuge is about this Porcupine caribou herd, that go to the coastal plain each year to give birth,” Jones said.
The coastal plain is only about 10 percent of the vast wilderness of ANWR, which is larger than any national park or forest.
“It's an example of what people understand, that is, that people are a part of something much larger than themselves,” Jones said.
To Jones it seem sacrilegious to move a tripod or click a shutter in such a quiet place -- but it would be a greater sin not to capture images of a place so few will ever see.
An exhibit of Jones’ work will be on display at the University of Alaska Anchorage’s Consortium Library until Nov. 15. Copies of “Arctic Sanctuary” will be available from the campus bookstore and online retailers.
Contact Ashton Goodell at agoodell@ktuu.com
