
Paul Forward is a physician and backcountry ski guide who splits his time between Girdwood and Kotzebue, Alaska. He’s also an Alaska Backcountry Hunters & Anglers board member and a hardcore traditional long bow hunter who’s well known for going on long, usually solo, epic hunts. We recommend checking out the film The Hard Way, which features Forward spending a month in pursuit of Dall sheep.
Forward is a staunch opponent of the proposed Ambler Road. If built, the 211-mile industrial corridor, designed to support the development of an unknown number of foreign owned mines, would cut through the southern Brooks Range. Forward has made more than 20 hunts, river floats, and wanders in the Brooks Range. He knows full well what future generations of hunters and anglers stand to lose if the Ambler Road is built.
Here is his story.
Describe the activities you enjoy in the Brooks Range.
Aside from hunting, my favorite thing to do in the Brooks Range is river trips. I’ve done whitewater kayaking trips on one of the more technical rivers, but I mostly prefer long family trips with my wife and young children.
I live part-time in Kotzebue, at the western end of the Brooks, where I’ve worked as a physician since 2016. I’ll spend as much time in those mountains as possible for the rest of my life.

Think of your first trip to the Brooks – what was different than you expected?
I first came to the Brooks when I was 12 years old for a caribou hunt. Before I ever went there, I expected the whole area to feel massive in scale. The more time I’ve spent up there, the smaller the range feels to me. I’m constantly surprised how interconnected the drainages are and how easy it is to walk from one whole drainage into another. It may look vast on a map but, after years exploring, it really doesn’t feel like such a huge place.
Share a Brooks Range memory that stands out to you.
The year after my first Brooks Range trip, when I was 13 years old, I went bowhunting for caribou with my dad and brother. On the last day of our hunt, we watched a group of bulls moving along a ridge as heavy fog moved in. Using the fog as cover, we made our best guess as to which direction the caribou would go and then moved to cut them off. We heard the clicking of tendons before we saw them emerge from the dense fog. A whole herd of large bulls shuffled past under 20 yards. More than 30 years later, the thought of those bulls emerging from the fog still gets my heart racing.
What is most special about this place?
Despite some human development that already exists up there, the Brooks Range and its connection to the Arctic plains to the north is the last true wilderness left in North America. It’s one of the only true wilderness areas left on the planet. The older I get, the more I realize how special that is.

Share one piece of advice you’d share with someone going to the Brooks for the first time.
Don’t just do something, sit there! I have spent a lot of my life alpine skiing, whitewater kayaking, and doing other fast-paced and intense outdoor activities. I used to approach hunting and fishing in much the same manner. As I’ve gained experience, I’ve realized that often the best way to experience a landscape is to spend long periods of time just watching. The best strategy for hunting the Brooks is often to find a good vantage point and allow the landscape and animals to reveal themselves.
Please share thoughts on hunting the Brooks Range with a traditional long bow.
There’s nothing quite like spotting a legal Dall sheep ram after a week or more of looking.
Most of my hunts consist of long, solo, backpack-based trips. Especially on sheep hunts, after a week or more of glassing, my mind starts to spin. Should I make a big move to a whole other drainage? Did I walk past a ram? Should I stay right here and keep watching? Will I ever see one? And then, when a legal ram finally appears—if one ever does—there’s an odd mix of excitement, nervousness, and even a little sadness. The search is over and now the long, painstaking process of planning an archery stalk begins.
How do you think your experience in the Brooks would change if the Ambler Road was built?
I’ve had the privilege of hunting and fishing along the Brooks from east of the Canadian border all the way west to where I’m sitting right now in Kotzebue. As I’ve already said, despite the perception that it’s huge, the drainages of the Brooks are interconnected. If you spend enough time in the Brooks, the range can begin to feel much smaller than you’d think. Cutting a road through the heart of North America’s last great wilderness would be a devastating change to the most elemental parts of being up there. There is consensus among biologists that an east to west road would have serious adverse consequences for the already imperiled Western Arctic Caribou herd. It would also cut across some of the best and most popular river country for fishing and float trips. Those wilderness trips and the country would never be the same again.
What aspect of the proposed Ambler Road project concerns you most?
Cutting a busy industrial road across one of the only remaining wilderness areas on the planet should simply be a non-starter. I’m concerned about adverse effects on the ecosystem. I’m concerned about the impact on subsistence living for the people of the region. I’m concerned about the massive and growing economic implications for tourism. More than anything though, as a father, I want there to be wilderness areas left for my kids and their kids long after I’m too old to explore this area. The value of intact wilderness for future generations is far greater than anything a mine could ever produce.

What’s the biggest misconception you’ve heard about the project?
The thing that I really struggle with is the comparison to the Dalton Highway regarding caribou and hunting access. There has been a lot written by wildlife experts about how the proposed Ambler Road, with its east-to-west orientation would create a very disruptive boundary to the north-to-south migration pattern of the Western Arctic Herd. Biologists compare it to the road at Red Dog mine which has been demonstrated to interrupt migrations. The Western Arctic Herd has already declined to about a quarter of what it was twenty years ago. The current population is the lowest recorded in 40 years. The last thing that herd needs right now is this road.
Similarly, I’ve heard people talk about how the Haul Road provides access for hunting and fishing and how having more roads would be beneficial. On the contrary, the Ambler Road project has zero plans to be opened to the public.
What might you say to someone who said, “I don’t understand why this road is such a big threat?”
I would compare it to Pebble Mine. From the perspective of conserving Pacific salmon runs, it’s hard to imagine a worse place on the planet for an open pit mine than Bristol Bay. Similarly, it’s hard to imagine a worse place in the world to develop a road than the Brooks Range. The road would literally cut a highly disruptive industrial corridor through the last wilderness on the planet.
There are thousands of people living in the region who rely on the animals, fish, and landscape for their subsistence food sources and many of them have ancestors who have been in this landscape for thousands of years. This proposed road would have a dramatic effect on this lifestyle.
Why is it important that hunters and anglers across the nation speak up against the proposed Ambler Road?
This road would be an existential threat to one of the greatest hunting and fishing areas on earth. It will have no benefit to hunters and anglers and will dramatically alter the ecosystem and change the area for generations to come.
Photo credit: Paul Forward
Sign up for Hunters & Anglers for the Brooks Range updates here.
The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in the above blog are those of the individual and do not necessarily reflect the views of Hunters & Anglers for the Brooks Range or partners. HABR does not accept responsibility for these views, thoughts, and opinions.