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MAY 2012
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HEMISPHERESMAGAZINE.COM
GAURAV MAN SHERCHAN (SACRED RIDES; RIDER, MANDIL PRADHAN)
A long-distancemountainbik-
ing trip canput the fear of God
intoeven themost practiced tire
changer—but not on a journey
through theKathmandu and
Kali Gandaki valleys inNepal
ledby
SacredRides
. In addition
to full ride support, the trip
includes bottledwater, allmeals
at restaurants andovernights in
hotels, lodges and teahouses.
The contemporaryminimalist
Mashpi Lodge
is located in a
2,600-acre private reserve
in anEcuadoran cloud forest
that contains dozens of plants
and animals foundnowhere
else. Youwon’t evenhave to
hike to enjoy them, as you can
zip around via private tramor
simply viewthemthrough your
floor-to-ceilingwindows.
Whatwith their pipes anddesks
andporters, even the great
turn-of-the-century safarists
didn’t exactly
rough
it. You can
do themone better on
Micato’s
GrandSafari
. It features stays
at some of themost luxurious
hotels inAfrica, including the
Mount Kenya Safari Club,
whichhas hostedSirWinston
Churchill andClarkGable.
WORDS
FROMTHEWILD
“I THINKWE JUSTTOOKA
LITTLEMORE TIME INTHE
PLANNING. TWOOTHER
GROUPSHADTRIED, AND
WE BASICALLYBUILTON
THEWORKTHEYHAD
DONE. BUTWEWENT
IN FASTER,WITHMORE
SUPPLIES, ANDWEGOT IN
THEREWITHTHE RIGHT
RIVER FLOW,WHEN IT
WAS LOW. THE PLANNING
PART ISGREAT; ITGETS
YOUREALLY INVOLVED.
YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’RE
GIVINGTHE RIVER THE
RESPECT ITDESERVES.”
—
MATTWILSON,
owner of Colorado-based 4Corners
Whitewater, on leading the team that
recentlymade the first descent
of Peru’s Huallaga River
We noticed the wolf at the same time. He
was big.
I had just finished stuffing my pockets
with cheese and reindeer sausage—Alaska
backpacking is hungry work—and now a
fierce gray carnivore stood 15 feet fromour
picnic. I realizedweprobablysmelledpre y
good, to awolf.MyManha anite girlfriend
grabbed my pocket knife and clutched it
with both hands. She was terrified.
“Take apicture,” Iwhispered. Iwas raised
in the Alaska wilds but had never seen a
wolf this close.
“Shoot it,” she hissed back. Her knuckles
were white on the knife handle.
“Hey, wolf!” I yelled andwavedmy arms.
My voice echoed across the dry riverbed.
“Mr. Wolf! Go away, please!” I sounded
ridiculous. My girlfriend apparently
thought so too, and pulled out our other
blade, the Leatherman we used to open
cans. She brandished them both.
Mr. Wolf did not run. He appeared fasci-
nated by the freshmeat that shouted and
trembled before him. When I hollered he
literally licked his chops. My choices were
limited. Running would mark us as prey.
Throwing rocks seemed foolhardy, like
slapping a bouncer. And it was our fi h
day in Denali National Park, a tract of
wilderness the size of Massachuse s, and
we had yet to see another backpacker. We
were completely alone.
Except, of course, for the wolf. He was
my size, sinewymuscles over a rangy frame
with a big head and bigger teeth. He was
so close I imagined he could do me in just
by stretching his neck.
FANGS
FORTHE
MEMORIES
Deep in the Alaska wilderness,
the big dogs don’t always
do what they’re told
1
2
3
EASY GOING
Six luxury shortcuts that tame the great wildworld