My Wolf Brothers

This is the true story of an experience I had on our trip to Alaska several years ago. It was originally published on my website in 1998.


My Wolf Brothers

It was a crisp, dawn morning(about 9:30am, due to the time of year) and the sun was just starting to glisten on the snow outside the cabin. It was very cold as I walked out onto the wooden porch of the cabin and stood there drinking my coffee. I knew it was going to take several hours to get the Land Cruiser warmed up enough to take off again, so I was in no particular hurry. The cabin was in a remote village in Alaska called Tok. It's directly off the Al-Can, but that's not saying much as the whole village is about 20 buildings. Our cabin was on the very edge of this and the absolute wilderness lay a mere 50 yards from my cabin's porch. There was a small clearing for the cabin and then a solid wall of forest beyond. It was here that my gaze was fixed that cold clear morning. The sun was coming through the trees like a huge swarm of fire flies dancing everywhere.

I suddenly became aware of just how unusually still and quiet it was. I realized even the slight breeze had calmed. I've spent enough years hiking and camping to know that something was up. I sipped my coffee and looked around the clearing and peered as deeply as I could into the woods looking for signs of movement. (They had just recently had a few bear attacks, so I really had the thought of some rogue bear bounding out of the woods on my mind.) I had stood there for about 10 minutes and it was kind of mesmerizing to become so focused on the silence...almost like a trance came over me. I was deep in this state of feeling when I heard the most primal sound I've ever heard in my life. And it was very, very close to me. The long lone howl of a wolf pierced the silence like Excalibur itself. The sound shook through my body down to my toes. It was loud, much louder than I would of expected and long and deep and very low. The wolf could not have been more than 10 feet beyond the edge of the clearing. He was right there almost in front of me, yet invisible in the vail of the forest. I finally remembered to breathe a minute or so later, and had just drawn in that breath, when he repeated this long, low howl. I was totally transfixed on this sound. I could not move, only feel. It felt like the whole world just stopped. Then for what seemed like ages, but was only another minute or two there was silence again. I still couldn't breathe, could only feel and listen in this altered reality.

Then from the other side of the clearing, I heard an answering howl. There were two of them. This one was slightly higher, distinct and yet just as powerful. They talked back and forth to each other and to me. Then as if I could have opened the gates of heaven, I heard two more, and then another, and another. Some eight distinctive howls I heard within yards of the clearing. Like a chorus howling madly at the dawn. This symphony of wolfsong went on for almost 20 full minutes...as I just stood, barely breathing, allowing the sound to engulf me. I heard them rustle the leaves, I knew where they were. I heard them yip and howl and yip again, between themselves. They played with me, for me and yet I never saw them...not once. I heard their voices, listened to their song and almost danced with them, became them somehow and was playing in the forest with them. They finally howled themselves away, and I listened for another 10 or so minutes as I heard the last of them howl far off in the distance. I couldn't move at first. I realized I hadn't moved a muscle in over thirty minutes. My coffee cup almost frozen to my hand, I slowly sat down on the porch, and breathed deeply. I couldn't move or speak for maybe another 30 minutes as I just couldn't let go of the sound in my head and deep in my heart. I finally slowly came back to reality, but I will never be quite the same after that experience. I danced with the wolves that morning and I do still to this day.