Sorry it’s been so long between posts, but we are both hopping around here with new programs and hikes and... well all kinds of stuff. We purchased a motorhome from our good friend Jan and I drove it up here, but other than that, have not had the chance to use it. Looking forward to a few days at the North Rim in it this week.
Settling back into the life of the Grand Canyon has been easier than I thought it would be after 6 months of long daylight hours in Alaska. My body quickly adjusted to the more “normal” sunrises and sunsets and even though the days are crisp and the nights hovering around freezing this time of year, I’m happy for the sunshine after all those months of rain and overcast skies. Although I experienced the year without summer, I also had the year of 2 autumns since that season begins in early August up around Coldfoot.
The wildlife here is surprisingly more abundant than what we experienced in the far north. I awoke the other day to a tremendous ruckus in the Pinion treetops that turned out to be a flock of maybe 2-300 Pinion Jays scouring the cones for seeds getting ready for the cold times ahead. And the antics of the huge population of Ravens as they squabble amongst themselves investigating every object on the ground could entertain even the non-bird lover for hours. I’ve added 4 new birds to my “Life list” just at the leaky water fountain in front of headquarters. I set my camera up on a tripod and sit and wait for them to come in for a drink. The other morning the water had frozen over, probably for the first time in the season. and it was a hoot watching the little Pygmy Nuthatches trying to figure out what was going on. They would glide in with feet out in front as they always had, and then would slide right off the edge of the fountain to the ground with what could only be described as a quizzical look on their tiny face. After a few more unsuccessful attempts. they succeeded in not skittering off the edge but couldn’t figure why the water was hard. They started pecking at it, tentatively at first, then with the ferocity of a woodpecker. Ice chips were flying all around until finally some liquid water appeared and thirsts were quenched.
Today as I rode my bike home after attending an afternoon California Condor program in the village I had the misfortune or good luck, depending on the outcome, of finding myself in the middle of 16 elk cows and calfs and one very excited Bull elk who was not at all happy to see me there. This is the rutting season when the big males are attempting to keep their harem together and will challenge any man or beast (or automobile!) that comes between him and them. Stories of unfortunate joggers and hikers and plain ignorant tourists trying to get too close for that great photo that end up being charged and many times injured had already spread through the canyon as they do every year at this time. I wanted no part of it. Just my luck, the ladies decided to stop and lay down all around me.
I decided I might have a better chance out pedaling that big boy than attempting to outrun him, neither which was true I later found out. I slowly weaved my way through the curious big eyed beasts while watching him watching me. Made it! Back home over a cold beer, I thought about this encounter and compared it to the Grizzlies up north that worried me so much. I wonder if they make an Elk spray?
In Alaska when I went into the woods there was always a kernel of uneasiness way back in my head that around the next bend I might encounter a Grizzly. I almost wish I had just to put it to rest since most of the time bear encounters are not all they are hyped up to be. But it never happened, so I really don’t know how I would have reacted. I do know that probably because that uncertainty is gone in these woods, I am much more relaxed and able to enjoy my surroundings to a greater degree. Was I being irrational? Probably but....

We’re back!

Sept. 18, and we’re in CO with my sister, Janis, and family. Leaving Fairbanks August 30 we camped (out of touch w no phone or internet connections) all but 3 of the last 20 days. Two of the three motel nights were necessary dry-outs following cold rainy nights in the tent, now-named “river runs through it,” and the third was to enjoy clean-up and sheer luxury before returning to “society” and the family reunion today.

It’s been an excellent 8-month adventure spanning two nations and more than 13,000 miles. Along the way we’ve been privileged to experience a wide range of landscapes and wildlife, to meet a variety of interesting people and to make a few new friends. Still, it’s great to be back home in the southwest! We are proud to have survived the rigors of travel/tent camping and communal living with no major illnesses, accidents or automotive problems. Are we glad we undertook this journey? YES! Will we do it again? No. Our days of tent camping, other than short jaunts, are over. We’ve come to accept that a 60's road trip meant the 1960's rather than in one's 60th decade.

We’ve seen and experienced so much more since leaving Fairbanks, and still have so much of our Alaskan experience to process that we’ll be writing and sharing photos for some time just to catch up. Yukon, British Columbia, Alberta - Canada is a great county! We delighted in the scenic beauty of her national parks, especially Jasper and Banff, followed by Glacier,Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons in Montana and Wyoming. I am grateful for the wisdom and foresight of those who preserved these areas. On that note, Ken Burns of PBS is just completing filming a series on our national parks and how they reflect our society and culture to be aired 2009. Should be great. Stay tuned here as well because we’ll soon share more of our own impressions!

Today’s photos reflect some of the agonies and ecstasies of camping. Our last night in AK was in a state park near Chicken (another off-the-grid hardscrabble village) on a bluff overlooking a lovely pond. We saw more than 20 snowshoe hares in transition from their muted browns to solid white coats. Beautiful evening, frost-covered morning.

Subsistance living

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the “subsistence” lifestyle espoused by so many Alaskans. To most of us in the lower 48, and many dictionaries, subsistence is defined as “the minimum necessary to support life.” To Alaskan natives, early homesteaders/settlers, and to those who today chose to live in remote areas, it is more clearly defined as “the means by which one supports life.” These families subsist on what the land provides in concert with their own ingenuity. And such are the 15 full-time residents of Wiseman, a small community 12 miles north of our visitors center in Coldfoot, of whom half represent three-generations of one family.

Meeting and talking with several of them (and ourselves living for 3+ weeks in a cabin with no running water more than 500 miles round-trip from the nearest shopping for anything other than gasoline) I have come to think more about the infrastructure that supports us. In Wiseman, families are “off the grid” electrically and must create energy for lights, heat, refrigeration, cooking. Most use a combination of solar, wind, and back-up gas-powered generators. One innovative family also harnesses the spring/summer energy of a nearby stream with a paddle-wheel generator. All cut, haul and utilize wood stoves to heat their homes against the up-to 70 degree below winter temps. With gas at 5.60/gallon, this creative ingenuity is necessary for personal and economic survival. All have also had to consider how to deal with human and household waste making me think more deeply about where is the “away” when we discard our household waste; throw things away?

Families in Wiseman must also supplement expensive food stocks trucked in on trips to Fairbanks at 3-6 month intervals. Every family hunts and supplies meat for the table - caribou, moose, bear. They appear to practice good animal husbandry and I have come to support and admire this reliance on and co-existence with the land. I continue to have some difficulty with trapping lines (which many there run) for income. Everyone had berry-picking forays during our stay - berry ripening time. Erv and I also enjoyed fresh blueberries we picked every week and I even got enough cranberries to make sauce to enhance our canned-goods meals on occasion. Most also had gardens, carefully planned, tended and “put-up” during the very brief, intense growing period at these latitudes. Wiseman boasts the farthest north “truck gardens” in the US!

A minimum of 10 children are required for a State-appointed school teacher so the 4 local kids are home-schooled. All have placed well above average on standardized testing for age. Their “book” education is supplemented by the necessity for practical creativity - the ability to improvise solutions to basic engineering and “entertainment” challenges with only the materials at hand. I don’t mean to suggest there are no modern resources at all. There is a rudimentary telephone system and satellite radio/TV on a very small frequency. There are trucks, snow machines (snowmobiles) and vehicles/tools to assist. And, unsought-after by Wiseman residents, the 800 mile pipeline and haul road are within sight of their community.

To me, these folk represent what most Alaskan’s admire and identify with, no matter if they live in the relative urban comfort of Fairbanks or Anchorage, Homer or even smaller towns. Some of these Alaskans are “end-of-the-roaders” who have fled their problems and disgruntlements elsewhere and come north only to find new problems, etc. Other residents enjoy Alaska much of the year but return to more temperate southern climes for hard winter. Most all residents, however, benefit from “subsistence” waivers in hunting and fishing regulations. Perhaps this is warranted by Alaska’s significantly higher cost of living, perhaps not. With increased human population, it is having impact on animal/fish populations in some areas. Where does one draw the line? That remains a quandary for me.

This trip to the arctic north has made me more aware of and, hopefully, thoughtful about my own environmental footprint. Even if I do not chose to live so close to the land as the hearty souls of Wiseman, I have a more intimate knowledge of being an interactive, integral part of my local ecosystem and the whole planet Earth, and a deeper appreciation of how what each of us does impacts that balance. For one thing, monitoring and conserving our own energy usage can do far more to promote national energy independence than drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge would ever do. Think about it!

Hiking the Arctic Refuge

Hi all,Erv here.We just got back from a few days hiking in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge- Not! ANWR as the industry refers to it to depersonalize it. As Sandra’s entry touches on, its beauty is magnificent. Its size is humbling, Its silence is deafening. It’s everything they say, but NOT an easy place to get around in. We covered just a few of the 11 million acres by hiking in from Atigun Gorge across wet spongy tundra covered with tussocks, little mounds of grass about a foot high and spaced so you can’t find a rhythm in walking them. The ones you think are firm, will sink under your feet and soak you, the ones you think are soft are hard as rocks and twist your ankle. Makes for slow, wet travel. Even so, a flyin would have been around $800 so we hiked. Another Alaskan conundrum. If the pipeline wasn’t built, the road would not be there for us to travel on. If the road wasn’t there, we and thousands of others would never know this place in person. But one road and one pipeline is all that should ever be here. Because of our choices of lifestyle, they are necessary scars on the land. If you ever find yourself arguing the point against more drilling, ask if the other person believes in God. If the answer is yes, remind them that this is quite possibly the last place on earth that is as God made it. Keep it that way for your children should they ask what the world was like then.

Above the Arctic Circle

Wispy tendrils stretched across the sky, undulating in shades of yellow-green, with an occasional patch brightening into a rainbow of red-green-yellow then quickly fading leaving a question of whether it was even there. We have seen a tease of the aurora, like restless spirits visiting the night sky. It is finally dark enough here above the arctic circle to experience the Aurora Borealis! Of course it means setting the alarm for 1AM and mustering the determination to bundle up and head outside but, like so many things here in Alaska, the discomfort is repaid by the experience.

Coldfoot, named for men, drawn here in the early 1900's by gold fever, who developed “cold feet” and gave up their dreams of easy riches to return home. Later, in the 1970's it became a working station along the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and now it has morphed into an “essential services” station midway between Fairbanks and Deadhorse (local name for the large Prudhoe Bay oil complex) on the Arctic Ocean. Erv and I are working at an interagency visitor center here where we provide information and assistance to visitors from many countries: independent travelers, backpackers and river floaters and large bus loads of tourists bound to see, and maybe dip a toe into the Arctic Ocean. The mission of the center is “to instill an understanding, appreciation and connection to the Arctic as an important part of our natural heritage.” Challenging! One more week before heading south. Hope the good weather holds!

We live in a nice little cabin with propane stove and solar/ gas generator for heat and electricity. With no running water we haul well water from the full facility visitor center (15 min. down the road) where we also shower. The outhouse is a chilly 2-3 blocks from the cabin but has its own rewards in opportunity to see short eared owls, flocks of crossbills, Grey jays and moonlit skies. Our work is not difficult and we have plenty of time to explore locally. We just returned from a two day camping trip (beautiful days but really cold, frosty nights) when we traveled another 100 miles north. Fall colors on the tundra are spectacular! We saw Dall sheep, caribou, Peregrine falcons but weren’t able to get far enough to see Muskox . We also encountered a number of bow hunters(caribou) and a most interesting fellow who drives a water truck as part of the Alaska DOT road crew and shared a slice of watermelon with us! We developed an admiration for all who venture to hike the tussocks and watery pits of the tundra. It’s like working out on an unstable stair master surrounded by water! This trip has strengthened my legs! So much more to share.... later!

Fairbanks

Fairbanks was an opportunity for Rand R after camping in poor, OK- horrible, weather and developing colds. We splurged for a night at a lovely B and B with Jacuzzi bathtub then the Fish and Wildlife service put us up at the BLM Firefighters barracks on Fort Wainwright - exposure to another choice of work and lifestyle (challenging, tedious, often dangerous; people we count on but have little contact with) and an interesting temporary home base. In the unduly rainy summer here (there was significant flooding in Fairbanks), most of Alaska’s fire fighters had been detailed to California so there was plenty of room.

When feeling up to it and not tending to laundry or “last chance” shopping for food, and supplies for the next 3+ weeks above the arctic circle, we did a little sightseeing as well. The Museum of the North and botanical gardens at the Univ. of AK were spectacular and we discovered a beautiful new bird, the Bohemian Waxwing in the gardens. Creamers field/bird sanctuary and nature walks were also delightful. The Sandhill Cranes, our favorites, and several duck species had begun gathering for their fall migration south; they’re early this year which unnerves me a bit. Walking through the boreal forest there I discovered that the birch and other plants, as well as the people and animals we are more familiar with, also entered Alaska over the Bering land bridge. Interesting! We’ll be on the road to Coldfoot on Tuesday.....

Another point of view

Erv here. Sometimes Sandra gets just a leeeeetle to romantic about this place. Sure, it's beautiful and all that, but the weather truly sucks. Our first night in Denali it rained hard all night. Our second night the wind howled all night. Our third night it rained hard AND the wind howled all night! My memories of those nights are represented by the photos of her precious Honda and how the tent site really looked in the morning.
But then I saw wolf pups and Golden Eagles. Two firsts for me. So life is good again.

Denali

Our experiences in Denali State and National Parks have been a microcosm of our overall experience of Alaska - a study in contrasts.

In order to more intimately experience this vast, beautiful landscape and its wildlife, we chose to hike and tent camp. The weather was not cooperative, however, and we were usually wet, cold and windblown - sometimes exhilarated, sometimes miserable and most often just tolerant. We savored 12 hours of sunshine during the eight days out. Those hours were incredibly rich in views of the elusive Denali peak (only 20-30% of those traveling here to witness this mountain, the highest in North America, are actually able to see it through the turbulent weather systems its great heights generate even when it is sunny and clear below).
We savored it’s perspective from high overlooks and also as we hiked around a lovely lake where the eerie, wild call of the loon enhanced the experience of both lake and mountain.

In Denali National Park we also rode buses (designed to protect the 65 miles of park roadway from the impact of hundreds of individual cars) from which we saw a variety of wildlife; remarkable in that this roadway represents a tiny inroad into an area larger than the state of Massachusetts. During our three days we saw small groups of magnificently racked caribou, two grizzly sows with cubs, several moose (including cow with yearling offspring, one a bull in velvet rack), Red fox, ground squirrel, Snowshoe hare, Dall sheep high on mountain slopes, Grey wolf pups - our favorite, Golden Eagles, Ptarmigan (Alaska’s State bird) and many raven, magpie, Grey Jays and a few songbirds. We just missed a lynx glimpsed by others. Most of these were distant views; we had close encounters only with the wolf pups and the smaller mammals upon whom the entire carnivore food chain depends. Although sometimes frustrated by having to ride busses and be part of the tourist mass, we support the intent of providing “wilderness” access while minimizing human impact. We learned that we could leave the bus for hiking intervals and especially enjoyed several hours hiking ridges in the tundra above Polycrome Pass.

As has been the norm for us in Alaska, we were humbled and awed by the vastness and rugged beauty of the country which is difficult to depict in words and photos. Part of the yin and yang of Alaska is its vast, wild beauty which is often difficult and costly to access and frequently requires the sacrifice of personal comforts. My greatest personal discomfort has been the dearth of sunshine. Even though this summer will likely go on record as the wettest, and one of the coolest - we’ve been above 60 twice, the amount of sunshine in a more typical year would likely not be able to meet my needs. A second yin-yang relates to the kinds of people Alaska attracts - and that’s a topic for another blog.

It's not all about the scenery!

Sure, the place is beautiful, but so are we! Not really, we are both getting as craggy as the mountains and moving as slow as the glaciers.

We just finished tent camping in Denali for3 days. The first night it rained all night, the 2nd night the wind blew all night,the third night it rained AND the wind blew all night! We are now in Fairbanks dryingout and actually saw the sun.Thought you'd enjoy the attached. I got to see wolf pups in the wild and a rare glimpse of the mountain.

Bears, Volcanoes and Glaciers

Katmai National Wildlife Refuge continued - You could tell that we flew to Hallo Bay for bear viewing from Erv’s photos of the icy volcano lake and the panorama of cliffs and mountains. For me, the flight was almost as great a thrill as the bears. We flew in a 6-seat bush plane with a taciturn pilot who skillfully landed on a sandy beach near where a group of bear were grazing on rich sedge grasses. En route we were treated to another impression of Alaska’s vastness and rugged diversity. We flew over rugged, snow topped mountains, glaciers and a complex system of rivers, wetlands and bays. I spent some flight time contemplating escape routes and wondering how we would survive if forced down and left on our own in this remote wilderness - no problems with imagination here! We also flew close to the St. Augustine volcano which erupted last in the 1990's dropping inches of ash on Homer (local volcanoes generally expel steam and volcanic ash vs magma) and is currently steaming. In my camera lens I was able to line Augustine up with another quietly active volcano, Mt. Ileamna - love this photo.

The Alaska Peninsula and Aleutian Islands stretch southwest from the Anchorage area and are a part of the Ring of Fire which also includes islands of Hawaii and Japan. The local geologic activity stems from proximity to where the pacific plate slips under the continental shelf. In 1964, a 9.9 quake and related tsunami destroyed several towns in Alaska and significantly impacted Homer, claiming about 6-9 feet of the Homer spit. Even this month we felt a small earthquake (4.5) and there continue to be ash eruptions from two Aleutian volcanoes near Dutch Harbor. All this has made me more aware and respectful of the strategic Tsunami warning system which is part of the scenery along the bay in Homer.

I echo Erv when I relate the time with the huge brown bears as being a special experience. For me, it was Zen-like as I never felt more fully present than in that beautiful, remote meadow among these amazing creatures. Even when a large male, pursuing females at the end of the mating season, unexpectedly came within 8-10 feet of me ( it is truly amazing how fast these huge animals can move!) and I could see him salivating and hear him huffing, I felt awe rather than fear. One of our party of 4 got a photo of this encounter which I’ll post as soon as he forwards it to me. We’ve learned a lot about normal bear behavior and appropriate human behavior around bears and will have even more training as we prepare to live in the cabin in Coldfoot where being bear aware is essential. People and bears are more likely to get into trouble when they surprise one another.

Volcanos and now glaciers... lots of geology! So much of Alaska remains primal and that is a huge part of its value to our nation both experientially for those who come here, and for the insight it provides about our planet and interdependent interrelationships on this earth. Let me move on lest I get on a soapbox myself. Today 7/21 we took a guided hike on the Matsanuga glacier with Rob, a friend of Erv’s from Big Bear, CA and his party of 5. It was quite a new experience for me - I mean hard hats, crampons (I unfortunately - shades of Star trek - called them “clingons”) poles and all. The play of sun on ice, the dynamics of melt and movement, the steep climbs and descents were exhilarating. I’ll let photos do the talking!

From Erv's soapbox

It just gets better and better...
A short while ago we flew to a very remote area of Katmai National Park and, with only 2 others and a very environmentally minded guide (meaning no firearms), we experienced the world as it may have been if man had not been part of it. Of course thanks to technology we were able to reach back in time by arriving in an hour on a small plane and I was able to record it with the latest in digital cameras and I am able to send it out to the world through the internet, but other than THAT, we were in Brown Bear Jurrasic Park. Surrounded by active, steaming volcanoes, ancient glaciers miles thick and creatures that struck fear and respect in our ancestors as they told stories around their fires in the distant past, you couldn’t help but feel small and insignificant but part of something bigger. I could write for days about the wonderful time we had, but something more important is gnawing at me since that day.
This wonderful, remote world of Alaska is so accessible today it makes it even more important to save areas like the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from man’s imprint.
Protecting it from the proposed drilling and limiting it to scientific study to learn how nature or God if you want, intended the earth to evolve without us. This is one of the last places on earth that we haven’t scarred or altered significantly. Can’t we just keep this for the plants and animals that live there and see what there is to learn from it? Sure, Senator Stevens would have you believe it’s a “barren wasteland” with his blank white poster board displays and photos of snow covered tundra, but under the white blanket is a tremendous variety of life forces waiting to explode in the short seasons given them. And there’s a vast number of birds and animals that call it home as it is. My friend Alan Bartels reminded me, only man can make a barren wasteland. We are learning (or should) every day, all of life is woven together. You can’t tug on one string without another reacting to it.
Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, or ANWR, as the oil industry would like you to call it to depersonalize it, has maybe 200 days worth of oil. It would take at least 5 years to even tap that. It would not be “American” oil. Oil companies are international. The product would not be exclusively for our SUV’s.
Alaska is known by its license plates as the “last frontier”. As I look around, more and more I see it treated the same as all of America’s frontiers of the past.
This is the last chance we have to have a last frontier. We must try something different. Soon Sandra and I will be leaving to work for the Visitor Center that serves Gates of the Arctic National Park, Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and Kanuti NWR above the Arctic Circle. I’m sure it will be the experience of a lifetime for us. We will be in a log cabin with no indoor plumbing, running water or electricity leaving lots of time to blog and photograph and explore the “wasteland”. Keep you posted!