Infrastructure or Life on the Trail Crew - The Common Ground Tour Continues

Breaking rocks in the hot sun!

Never again will I blithly hike along a trail watching the scenery, looking for birds and animals and not giving two thoughts for the trail under my feet.  Doing trail work at Gaudalupe has changed all that.  Now when we hike it's the trail width, tread condition, water bars, plant encroachment and overhang, switchback planning, and lots of other little details that also demand attention.

Like much of the U.S. infrastrucure, and trails here were expertly designed, built and maintained until about 20 or so years ago.  Then a series of budget cuts, two one hundred years flood, and hiring freezes began to take it's toll. This national park is well known and loved for it's 80+ miles of trails. Usage, both by humans and horses is constant. As I mentioned in my last post, folks love their national parks. They appreciate and use them more and more every year.  At the same time maintenance and trail crew budgets and staff have been more than halved. That's where S.D. and I fit at GUMO.

Our boss, Mark, is the Mule Packer and Trail Boss. Our first day at work was foggy, wet, and

Before "rocking"

 at one point hailing, but nevertheless we walked out along our two mile 'job site', the Frijole Trail.  Mark pointed out all the work that need to be done to bring the trail that climbed up through outwashes and along the top of the allevial plain into good condition.  Some of the work was significant and involved, some just pretty hard and tedious.  Being new to the job, the hard and tedious tasks naturally fell to us.

After "rocking"

Our second day at work was sunny, warm and clear. S.D. and I hiked out to the mid-point of the trail (the Bear Canyon trail intersection) dropped our packs, mattock, sledge hammer and McCloud, took a long drink of water and began clearing the millions of loose rocks off the trail and out of the hundreds of clogged water bars.

Since then our trail work has been much the same, but that trail sure is starting to look sweet! We still get tired and dirty but our muscles are getting used to the work but we've experienced many special moments, discovered some new things things and had and a few adventures. (Adventures worthy of their own posts.)

Common Ground Tour - National Parks and Lands

Last Saturday, S.D. and I arrived at Guadalupe Mountains National Park. We're early, but the weather forecast was calling for high winds, snow and sleet between Sunday and Tuesday so we thought it best to get here before all that excitement. As it is we arrived, driving from the east into a 50 mph headwind.

Despite the wind, and the remoteness  (the park is 35 miles from the nearest gas station, the nearest town, Carlsbad, New Mexico,  is 70) the visitor center parking lot and the campground were packed. Americans love their National Parks!

Hunter Line Cabin

It's been the same at every National Park, Monument, Memorial or Wildlife Refuge that we've visited. Car license plates are from all over the country, and the people, from all over the world. It's been said many times, but it's no less true, our Parks are our national treasure.  Each one striving to preserve and at the same time provide access to the special aspects of this country.

Guadalupe is no exception. The mountains, for which it is famous, are actually an ancient coral reef. Rising as they do now from the desert it holds countless canyons and hidden springs. Like most parks and monuments, the land here is recovering from past human made modifications, even as Park Rangers actively encourage leave-no-trace enjoyment for current visitors.  Guadalupe's Frijole Ranch is one of the remaining historic structures. Built from local limestone blocks in the late 1800's it sits next to the Frijole spring.  Past owners used that spring to irrigate crops and fruit trees. The ranchers relied on the nearby Manzanita and Smith Springs to water livestock. Today the cabin is maintained, but only a few fruit trees remain. Foot paths lead hikers on a 2 mile loop to the other springs, but hikers are to stay on the trail and let nature restore the land.

But wait there's more! Not only do American's love their National Parks, and the wild places it preserves, they also benefit the economy. According the Outdoor Recreation Association: "Outdoor recreation is an economic powerhouse in the United States, each year generating $646 billion in consumer spending and 6.1 million direct jobs."

Americans also love a bargain and for those economically minded folks there is more good news, the parks are relatively cheap to run.  According to a dated 2005 NPS study, 137,000 volunteers, like S.D. and I, "donated 5.2 million hours to your national parks at a value of $91.2 million.." The employees also do not make the big bucks.

Almost every day since we arrived we've taken a hike.  On every one of those hikes we've meet other hikers, on the weekend it was lots of hikers. Everyone enjoying the many benefits of our great Parks.

Finding our way and/or the road not taken and/or all who wander are not lost

Guest content by SD.

We've been asked a number of times how we find out about the the places we go and how do we find our way there.  It's not always easy and I'm sure we miss many places that we would find enjoyable, but here's a quick run down on the resources we use.

There are two general catagories we are looking for, interesting places (parks, refuges, seafood, places to camp, etc.) and the roads to get there.  One of the first things we do upon entering any state is stop at the welcome center.  We usually prefer to stay off the interstates, so often we have to hit an interstate specifically to do this.  Here we always get the old fashioned paper road map.  These maps are a valuable resource because they differentate between road types, i.e. paved, dirt, four lane or two lane.  This is something that Google maps doesn't do as well as it should.  

Even Old, Old, Old maps can be useful.

Another resource at the welcome center is that information is available on attractions in the state.  Let it be said that we are horrible tourist, we admit it everytime we do a typical touristy thing.  But still we try.  The staff is generally very friendly and helpful. There is also often information on state and national parks, campgrounds, restaurants and anything else visitors to the state might want to do.

This first stop generally gives us the necessary information to begin our explorations.  Another resource we rely on is Google maps.  This gives us a pretty good map, plus you can find important things like grocery stores, campgrounds, coffee shops and reviews of these places.  The reviews require some experience to parse for our tastes, but we find them useful to at least miss the horible places.  We have also been known to stop at AAA offices to get maps, although the maps handed out by the state tend to be better.

These two resources, old school road maps and Google maps, are generally what we rely upon to find our way to places.

Google maps are useful, our route from Alaska to Florida.

The bigger trick is to find the places we would like to visit.  For this we rely upon multiple resources.  One way is to look at the maps and see if there are any interesting looking locations. Big green areas are often interesting.  To find campsites we also use multiple resources old and new.  AAA has Woodall's guide book to campgrounds.  This gives to the particulars of campgrounds, broken down by state and nearest town and has a rating system for various metrics.  We also use a smartphone app "RvParky" which also gives reviews of the campgrounds.  There's other smart phone apps we sometimes look at, but RvParky seems to be the most useful and most used.  We have also downloaded a book "Camping with the Corps" to find USArmy Corps of Engineers campgrounds.  These tend to be great campgrounds are are a really good deal, especially with my US Government Senior Pass. One of the few perks of being a senior.   Another book we downloaded is a guide to National Parks.  I have to admit as a casual visitor, not as a volunteer staying for a few months, we tend to stay away from National Parks.  They attract a lot of people who are not hikers and campers but are attracted to National Parks for some reason.  Some of our worst experiences have been in National Park campgrounds, and to be fair some our best experiences too.  Especially if you get into the back country.

An Army Corps of Engineer campsite.

Another resource is just old fashioned asking friends.  We're a nation of tourists and we almost always find one or two friends who have been there.  Additionally there are places we want to see.   We've also joined "Harvest Host."  For a small fee to get to contact local farms who have joined and alow one or two campers at a time to stay for free.  These are undeveloped, usually just a grassy spot with no utilities and you are expected to purchase some farm products.

A Harvest Host site at a farm in Florida.

Then there are a few very specific resources.  For our summer in Alaska Kelly's cousin (Thanks again!) gave us a copy of the "Milepost" which gives mile by mile descriptions of the roads to, from and in Alaska; including campgrounds, stores, gas, etc.  Additionally we bought a book about campgrounds in BC, Yukon and Alaska which was very useful.

As you can see a significant part of this wandering about the country is figuring out where to go and how to get there.  So far we've done pretty well and seen a lot of really great places and met some interesting people.  Only a few places have been a bit scary.  Let's hope we can continue the streak.

Common Ground Tour - Waterfront

Apalachacola View

On the second day of the tour we drove south from Monticello, FL down through the small town of Panacea to the Gulf Coast.  The state of Florida has nicknamed it's coastal regions. For instance the Jacksonville area is the First Coast, Palm Beach is the Gold Coast,  Pensacola is the Emerald Coast. The Florida shoreline we drove, from St Marks to Mexico City is called the Forgotten Coast.  It is SD's and my's favorite. As the name suggests, it's a relatively forgotten and ignored part of Florida and it's beautiful. White sandy beaches, pine and palm forests, salt marshes, birds, even black bears.

As we drove further west, back into more 'remembered' coasts, we were thinking about other coasts, Floridian, Atlantic, Pacific, even lakes and streams.  It it's clear that Americans love their coasts. They love it in different ways, and show that love differently but it's where American's go when they want to enjoy themselves.

One of S.D.'s oft repeated statistic is that "the population of the U.S. has doubled in his

Coastline - St. Joe's State Park, FL

lifetime and a higher percentage now live on the coastline. Which means the populaion has more than doubled on the coast."  Thus there are a lot of people living on the coast. There are a lot of people vacationing there too.  Any coastal area parking lot will have cars from multiple states. Here on the Gulf the majority of out of state plates are from the midwest.  In Florida there were from the northeast.  On the pacific coast they were from Nevada, Idaho and Arizona.

Contast that to recreation areas mid-country where unless you're on an interstate, it's only locals. It's the coastal areas that are the gathering spots. The places where American's from all over the country get together,  live, relax, have fun, and maybe, just maybe get out of their own bubbles and get to know one another a little better.

Common Ground Tour - Jelly

Lately the country has been focused on our differences; the political situation pulling folks further and further apart. Those differences are serious and real. But even as we explore those I believe it's important that we, as a common people of this country remember and stregthen our shared values and beliefs.  As S.D. and I are head west through Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisana and Texas,  the focus is going to be on what we all share in common, i.e. The Common Ground Tour.

 With such a lofty goal, and such deep divisions, that common ground may be elusive, and even trival seeming at times. But we have to start somewhere! Monday it all started with jelly.

It seems that Americans, where ever they are, will take the fruit, and in some cases flower, of whatever grows locally, smash it up,

Fireweed (wikipedia)

cook it down, add sugar and make jelly.  In addition to the usual jelly contenders like blueberry, rasberry, strawberry etc., there are some pretty unusual ones. In Alaska it was fireweed (a flower) jelly, in the southwest they make jelly from prickly pear cactus fruit.  In Florida there's some type of palm fruit jelly and then there is Mayhaw jelly.

The Mayhaw trees at the Golden Acres Ranch, where we spent Monday night, were still dormant.  Thriving because they can live in boggy land where other trees can't, they will bloom and fruit by May (hence the name).  Once ripe  the ranch owner, Bobbie,  hosts a berry picking, jelly-making festival. She showed us some of the frozen berries which looked a lot like very large cranberries, and sold us some jelly.  Mayhaw jelly is a deep rich burgundy color and tastes most like a smoked cherry/chocolate blend. It's unusual and really good. 

Staying at the Golden Acres Ranch was one stop of what we hope will be many made possible by the Harvest Hosts program. For a small annual fee we are able to spend the nights at participating farms, wineries, museums and other attractions.  It's a pretty cool program, a great way to get a little deeper into the country than staying at RV parks and campgrounds allow.

 PS - The Golden Acres Ranch also grows and sells lamb and goat.  Our freezer is close to full!

Florida Roadside Attractions

Florida's Sasquatch

Florida is well known for its roadside attractions. Gatorland, various warm springs, Weeki Wachee Springs (complete with "mermaids"), the Skunk Ape Research Center, the worlds largest orange, and too many more to mention. Last week however, SD and I experienced a whole new level of Florida roadside attractions when we joined the Timucuan Preserve staff in a roadside cleanup. Along with the usual detritus you'd expect; beer cans, fast food containers, there were a few unexpected items that made the work part archeological expedition and part botanical fieldwork.


While Florida does have liter laws and fines, they're not prohibitive or even

47 bottles of Sutter
Home on the road
47 bottles of wine
you pick one up
and throw it away
46 bottles of Sutter
Home on the road

punitive. "Any person who dumps litter in an amount not exceeding 15 pounds in weight or 27 cubic feet in volume and not for commercial purposes is guilty of a noncriminal infraction, punishable by a civil penalty of $50." It's a litter law that's not good for the environment but, archeological speaking, great for learning about the local human inhabitants. Take for instance the 4, half out of the wrapper condoms. Try as we could we could not image a scenario where a couple is driving down the road at 45 miles an hour, decides to put said item to use, then completely rules out the possibility and throws them out the window.

Also intriguing were the 47 empty mini Sutter Home wine bottles, and their cardboard containers on both sides of a 200 ft stretch of the road. Sure there were a few Coors Lite, and Budweiser cans but why all the Sutter Home? Why are they thrown only in that location? Certainly the littering party is trying to hide their drinking but Sutter Home?..there are just more questions than answers.

More impressive however, were the botanical findings. Squirrel skulls, armadillo armor, and a gopher tortoise shell. Like many places there are lots of squirrels in Florida. They're still generally wild, foraging for acorns from the oaks and eating other wild plants. They're only interested in people as something to occasionally scold and they seem amazingly car smart. They're not the kind of squirrel that waits on the side of the road then darts out, daring the driver to stop or swerve. That's why the three squirrel skulls, along with various vertebra and limb bones were surprising. The skulls were fully intact. Gleaming white, they were almost cute enough to take home and display. Maybe a new type of Christmas ornament?

Actual living, but not moving, armadillo

The armadillo armor and skeleton was even more interesting.  Not Christmas decoration quality, but uniquely southern and an amazing roadside find. Armadillos are here, you just don't see them that often. SD saw one in a field at the Kingsley Plantation. It was so still he thought it was an interpretive statue. The funny, and actually deadly habit they have is that although usually still, when startled an armadillo will jump 4 to 5 feet vertically, and right into the underside of a car or truck that could roll over them.

The last of the clean up day roadside attractions, the Gopher tortoise shell was pretty special. Gopher tortoises are a protected, keystone species. They dig holes and tunnels (hence the 'gopher') that are used by over 360 other creatures. Gopher tortoises are endangered. so finding a large shell on the roadside was a nice surprise. The wild creatures, especially in the Preserve, are still surviving.

Compared to giant apes, oranges and Florida's other roadside attaractions, gopher tortoise, armidillo and squirrel skulls along with some intreguing litter might not seem exciting. Admittedly they aren't, but the certainly do provide a brief glimpse in Florida life.

Thankful for the Wild Places

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving this year was shared with our fellow RV volunteers at Fort Caroline. We spread beach towels over the picnic tables, arranged a centerpiece of swamp pine cones and magnolia leaves, assembled our assorted silverware, plates, turkey, gravy, stuffings, turnips, and sweet potatoes, and gave thanks for family, friends and Willie Browne.

Willie Browne is my Jacksonville hero. Some of the best times we've had here so far are due to Willie, a pseudo-hermit and forward thinking wildlife lover who came to Jacksonville when he was six, and lived, died and is buried here. Early this

Willie Browne and family stone on the Refuge Property

Thanksgiving morning, like other mornings over the last two months we've hiked the four mile trails that meander over the maritime hammocks, 30 foot deep oyster middens, and along the banks of Spring Creek out to Round Marsh. There are very few wild places left in the sprawling megalopolis, and port city that is Jacksonville, Florida. That fact that this walk is possible is all due to Willie Browne. While he lived he lived off this land, refusing countless offers from land and water developers. When he died he willed it all to the public stipulating that it not be developed and that it remain as a place where people can get out and enjoy the wilder side of Florida.

Sunset at Barn Island, CT

Thinking back over all our travels, and even before we realize how many other wonderful donors and land conservation organizations we have been thankful for. Back in Connecticut, the Avalon Land Trust preserved so much including my favorite Barn Island, in Massachusetts it was the Trustees of the Reservations. Established in 1890 it now manages over 27,000 acres. Throughout the United States we often ran into properties either managed by the Nature Conservancy but also National Park or USFW land purchases that had been facilitated by them. I'm sure this is only a very small fraction of the folks and organization that have saved wild places, but for them, and for all others I am forever thankful.

Cultural shift

Ariel View - We're living at the little blue dot.
Note the small green area surrounded by development

The distance between Alaska and Florida is measured in more than miles. We physically arrived at our new volunteer gig at the Timucuan Ecological and Historical Preserve in Jacksonville, Fl on October 28th. It's been just under two months and psychologically I'm still grappling with the enormous cultural distance between here, Alaska and for that matter, the previous year out West.

As per usual, I've been reading books about our latest location. Starting with history texts but seeking comic relief in Carl Hiassen's Razor Girl, Skinny Dip, Sick Puppy and more. (All highly recommended for their perspective on Florida and for humorous ecological anarchist insights.) Dave Barry's Best State Ever, is also a good read. It's the subtitle, "A Florida Man Defends His Homeland," that brings us back to the cultural issues.

Some say Florida is a paradox. The Sunshine State, they say, is being ruined by the very things that

The Paradox - Salt marsh's and container ports

make it so special. That it's wonderful climate, long sandy beaches, palm trees, orange groves, abundant waterfowl and fish are what everyone admires and praises about the state. At the same time, Florida is the epitome of the both the car and consumer culture. Both of those, along with a unregulated manufacturing push threaten the states very uniqueness.

After living for over a year in places that preserve and respect their wild areas, Florida has been a real shock. Currently our trailer is tucked into the Preserve. Live oaks, swamp pines, and sable palms tower over the trailer, owls, ospreys and eagles fly overhead, turtles, little lizards, and various snakes are underfoot. Less than half a mile south suburban sprawl begins. Less than 2 miles south the strips begin. Actually it's more like a giant grid that expands over 20 square miles. Repeating Starbucks, Publixs, MacDonalds, CVS's etc, every 5 or so miles. Every weekday morning, precisely at 8:00 am a line of sand hauling trucks rumble down the road past the Preserve to a sand pit. A sand pit that is filled from St. John's River dredging. The trucks fill up and soon rumble past, off to fill in some other wetland somewhere for a new road, a new housing development, or a new shopping center.

Home - where a family of bald eagles are our neighbors

They say there is nothing like travel to a foreign country to help you learn about yourself and what you value. After two months in Florida, not to mention the drive thru the midwest, I've learned that it's best to treat this experience as a trip to a foreign land.

We had become accustomed to places where people value preserving and enjoying nature, local produce, sustainable livelihoods, recycling, low impact living, even not littering. I'd even come to take it for granted that everyone does. I love wild places, small friendly towns, gardens, local traditions and pride. So far none of those seem to be valued here. Having spent a month and half coming to this realization however, I vow to keep an open mind and spend the next month and a half getting to know more about this foreign land - and searching out the pockets of resistance.

South-east to Jacksonville

Not everyone is in a hurry to go South

There are few places in the US that are further from Tok, Alaska than Jacksonville, Florida. But that's where our winter volunteer gig is, so that's where we are going. Certainly we could have started in Barrow, Alaska and headed for Key West, but the 4200 miles between Tok and Jacksonville seemed far enough. They certainly are about as geographically, and cultural different as you can get. That we knew. What we didn't know, and are just started to explore, is all the country in between. Aside from our brief stops in South Dakota, Wyoming and Idaho during our cross country drive from Massachusetts to Oregon we hadn't seen much of the 'interior.'

Unexpected Dangers!

All through the Yukon, and all of British Columbia until we crossed the Rocky Mountains, the country was much like Alaska. Tiaga, spruce, bogs, lakes and then in the Rockies, big pines. There were lots of the same animals too, buffalo, caribou, mountain sheep, moose, and bears. Lots of black bears, not a single grizzly.

Descending the East flank of the Rockies everything changed. The plains of Alberta are covered with gas wells, wheat fields and cows. Northern Montana was much the same, perhaps with a few less wells, and wheat but still rolling hills, far flung towns and cows.

It took us 6 days to drive the 2100 miles that marked the half-way point. We now had 6 weeks to drive the remaining 2100 miles, and we plan to take it slow and do some exploring.

Just hanging out in Wyoming

Southern Montana, along the Yellowstone River that the land began to change. Big mountain ranges rose off to the west and south. As we climbed up out of the valley, the land was still agricultural but the crop changed to something short with big, leaves. All we could think of was some type of mutant spinach, until we drove through Lovell, Wyoming and the sugar beet processing plant. Ah, Dave said "Sugar beets!"

We were in Lovell, not your usual tourist destination because Dave, who somehow has an uncanny knack for looking at a map picking good camping spots had noticed a big green blob labeled "Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Site". Lovell being the location of the site headquarters we were there to see about camping and hiking options.

Currently I'm typing all this up while seated outside the Creekside at Horseshoe Bend Campground. Below and to the South the waters of the southern end of Bighorn Canyon sparkle under a vast, baby blue sky. A mile to the west a solid red and white rock wall rises 2, maybe three thousand feet. Bees are buzzing around the late blooming purple asters and sunflowers. We are back in the high desert.

The Lockhart Ranch. If I were interested in ranching....

The majority of the canyon lies to the North. Yesterday we scouted out some hiking trails to take later today. Some wander along the canyon rim. (Bighorn Canyon is the third largest canyon in the US), and others wind up side canyons to old cow and dude ranches. It's been a great place to explore for a few days. The worst part of stumbling into places like this is knowing that eventually you have to leave.

Seasons of Alaska : Yet Another Thing to Love

Fall - Aspens in the valley, bearberry on the hills

There are many seasons in Alaska. Along with the usual spring, summer, fall, and winter there is also moose season, sheep season, salmon season, king salmon season, blueberry season, cranberry season, basket making season and probably a few others we haven't experienced yet.

As for the 'regular' seasons. Between our arrival on June 19th and our leaving, tomorrow, September 6th we've experienced the tail end of spring, all of summer and most of the fall. Condensing all of those into a little less than three months gives a good idea of how different they are from seasons in the lower 48. They have all the same qualities, spring has rain and lots of flowers, summer is sunny and hot, fall begins the cool weather and the bright fall colors on the plants and trees, but the timing and the intensity are extreme.

The other Alaskan seasons are related, and interconnected with the regular seasons but have more to do with subsistence living. Most Alaskans do not buy meat, fish or berries. When the appropriate time of year arrives, they hunt and harvest.

Cranberries...everywhere!

When we arrived in June, most local conversations always included talk about salmon. "Did you get your salmon yet?" was the most common question. The King Salmon were running and it turns out, for Alaskans King Salmon is King. They're not that interested in the other, later salmon like pinks and even Silvers. Having a freezer full, or 6 or 7 dried or smoked was enough for a year and they were happy.

The next season was blueberry. The berries were super abundant this year and two weeks early. There were blueberries all over the campground but the locals told me not to bother with those "go up to the Taylor Highway there are lots of blueberries up there." Sylvia went one afternoon and picked six gallons. Campers who drove the highway told us the road was lined with cars, the hills full of blueberry pickers. Not content with six gallons, Sylvia went picking two more times, she needed enough to get her through the winter and to share with friends and relatives.

Moose territory

The sides of the roads were again lined with cars and people on August 24th. The first day of the most anticipated of all Alaskan seasons, the day no one makes any other plans for had arrived. It was Moose season! Not wanting to carry hundreds of pounds of moose meat through the woods, everyone just sets up next to their trucks and hopes this winter's meat walks out to the road. (This year three moose were bagged along side the 10 miles stretch of road south of Tok.) Those who don't get their moose the first day are still hunting until they do. Marilyn, a elderly woman who lives near the campground drove in one day, her lever-action 30-30 casually resting on the passenger seat. She wanted to be ready when 'her' moose showed up. Everyone in Alaska wants their moose, it's what's for dinner most nights. (Moose meat is good eating. Sort of a darker steak.)

Without a big freezer all Dave I have only gathered the 9 pounds of salmon and 3 pounds of cranberries but we really like the subsistence idea and lifestyle. For Alaska and Alaskans there is no other way to live, and it permeates the culture here, makes it a very unique and special place. Integrates the turn of the 'regular' seasons with the seasons for living.

Evolution of a fish killer

What it's all about

This summer in Alaska I started fishing. Always a fan of eating fish, Alaska seemed a good place to start getting my own. Our friends Bob and Pam (thanks guys!) had already supplied a reel, Dave bought the rod and we picked up our licenses in Tok.

My first fish was a rainbow trout from Hidden Lake. Just a mile hike off the Alcan, Hidden Lake is small, but big enough for a pair of Trumpeter Swans, and deep enough for fish to live year round. It was really hard to kill that first fish. She was beautiful and so alive. Dave insisted I gut the second one. That was even harder. None, however were hard to eat. Rainbow trout are delicious! The next day we had trout cakes. All that good food just waiting for us under the water. I was hooked on fishing.

Trout

Our next, and several subsequent fishing expeditions were on Deadman Lake. Known to the local Athabascans as Big Pike Lake, we were hoping for a little bigger catch. Back East folks don't eat pike, but out here they grow bigger, and they too are delicious, very buttery. Every week or so we'd go out fishing to catch dinner. I started thinking of the lake and the pike as a lot like the grocery store. Except, of course the gutting and the killing. It was still hard to kill them especially as Dave was using the paddle blade.

The Pike

We improved on the killer technique one afternoon after admiring a billy club like thing of some other fishermen. It was kinda slow at the campground so I cut down, peeled a willow and started carving a club. Dave got all fancy, carved in a diamond grip handle and "Kelly's Fish Killer" was born. He then quickly carved up a simpler, more utilitarian version for himself.

Willow Fish Wackers

Now, prepared with all the necessary equipment we graduated to the big league. For our last big Alaskan adventure we decided to go to Valdez and fish for Coho, known as Silvers locally, Salmon. The silver run is slow this year but after three hours of casting at Allison Point I caught a 13.25 pound Silver Salmon. It took a few nervous minutes before I reeled it in and over to Dave. He grabbed the line, pulled the fish up onto the rocks and efficiently wacked it with his fish killer. I still have a hard time with the killing, and Dave again had to do the gutting and filleting. But I'm more than happy with the 9 pounds of salmon fillets are filling up the freezer.

The Big Silver & me

I can honestly say that fishing isn't all that fun. I love being outside and on the water, but I'm easily distracted from the casting and reeling repetitions by a duck, or a bird, or a mountain view. On the other hand, the killing and the eating, the gathering of the food part of it really speaks to me. It's doing the subsistence thing. Hooking a fish, wacking him upside the head, and then gutting and filleting him (or harvesting the roe if it's a she) isn't fun, but it really brings you down to earth, closer to the core. It's one of the things that a summer season in Alaska has given me a deep appreciation for.

Mail Plane to Chisana (pronounced Shushanna)

Chisana

Cars and trucks will only let you see a little bit of the Alaskan interior. ATVs will get you a bit further into the backcountry. A snow machine, at least in winter, will get you even further. If however, you want to really 'get out there' you need a plane.

After being here only a few days I knew that one of the best ways to really see Alaska would be by plane. Luckily, flightseeing is a big business with lots of companies offering multi-hour tours in small planes...but for big prices. Luckily also, I have an awesome and resourceful husband! On one of our town days in Tok he suddenly turned right into the airport and stopped in front of the office of 40 Mile Air. "What would you think about a plane ride for your birthday?' he asked.

Vanessa in the office explained the various tour options. I listened with one ear and watched the little tiny planes taxi down the narrow runway. Little tiny planes are definitely cuter than big ones, but boy were they getting tossed around in the light breeze. Turning my attention back to the flight options I heard Vanessa mention that there are also 3 seats avalaible on the Tuesday two-hour mail flight to Chisana. "If the weather is good" she added, "Brownie usually flies back over the glacier and through the canyon."

Flying over the Tanana River Basin

And so it was on the morning of Tuesday, August 23 that Brownie, Dave and I lifted off in one of those tiny planes with 80 pounds of mail for Chishana. Chishana, once and very briefly a gold mining boom town of 10,000, has a current year-round population of 6 to 8. Not sure why the U. S. Postal System keeps delivering mail there, especially at what must be significant expense. That's just one of those things you wonder about in Alaska. Irregardless, it is the best flightseeing deal in the state.

Air Strip in Chisana

Dave and I sat back, watched the Tanana, Nebesna, and Chisana rivers running silver grey with glacial silt beneath the little blue plane. After about 15 minutes we crossed the flood plain/tiaga and began flying over the foothills of the Wrangell Range, one of the highest mountain ranges in North America. Minutes later we were flying through canyons, alongside mountains. Brownie dipped the plane to the right and pointed out three distinct white shapes standing nonchalantly on a clift-side. Dall Sheep, so clear we could make out their giant horns. Righting the plane, Brownie then pointed ahead to the foot of the Chishana glacier, and left, to what apparently was the airstrip. It may have looked like a field to us, but Brownie landed that little plane without a bump. Standing beside the runway were three people. Half the town had turned out to meet the plane.

During the 15 minute layover, while the plane was loaded and unloaded, Dave and I wandered over to the public cabin and outhouse. We'd heard about the use of blue foam insulation for toilet seats, but this was the first we saw. Apparently this is the thing to keep your tushie from freezing to the seat during the winter! Then it was time to leave.

The weather was good (enough) and Brownie did fly over the glacier and through the canyon and wow, was that spectacular. More Dall sheep, more mountsides aflame with Aspen, more snow covered peaks, more Alaska!

It was also bumpier. The sky was clouding over and the canyon winds were starting to lightly toss the little plane and my stomach. Gliding over the reddening bear-berry covered hills we landed back in Tok just before the storm. This week's mail run to Chisana was done.

Gold Fever! A Holiday to Dawson City via Chicken and the Top of the World Highway

Having gotten into the swing of the whole campground host thing, it was time for a new adventure.  We'd heard a lot about Chicken and the road to Dawson City and thought it would make for a great overnight adventure.  Leaving the trailer behind, and with hotel reservations made for the big city of Dawson, we headed out early Tuesday morning.

Roads are always a major topic of conversation in Alaska.  Not so much where they are going, it's the condition they are in that can be the subject of hour long conversations and spirited debate. We knew that the road repair crew was currently working on the Taylor Highway, the 64 mile road from Tok to Chicken. Like many roads in Alaska the part being repaired, the gravel section, was much better than the potholed, permafrost wracked remainder.

Then there is the 72 mile road from Chicken to Dawson City called the Top of the World highway.  Primarily rough dirt, and narrow, with steep drop offs over 1000 ft clifts, the road winds along the ridgetops, above treeline. Dave did the driving. I pointed out the numberous gold dredging operations we passed along the Forty Mile and Mosquito Rivers, the magnificent alpine views and counted down the miles, first to the Canadian border and then to Dawson.

But note, I wrote that the road was 'primarily' dirt.  There is one section, the last 12 miles in Alaska, that is beautiful, smooth, wide asphalt. Nothing but horrible dirt up to it, nothing but bad dirt afterwords.  But there it is, the best road in all of Alaska.

In Canada, the road ends at the Yukon River just across from Dawson.  The ferry runs continiously, is pretty quick, and gave us a chance to say we've rode the Yukon.

Dawson City itself, is pretty cool. A gold town that sprang up in the late 1900's and is still the center of Yukon mining and tourism today.  The old 19th century architecture and character is well maintained, and really classy.  The streets are dirt but there are wooden boardwalk sidewalks butted up to false front stores, victorian theater houses and saloons.  We had a great dinner is an old fish house.  The rain hammering on the tin roof only added to the boom town ambiance.  But there really isn't much there even if you include a visit to the Jack London and Robert Service cabins. I did, and have, often wondered how "the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell."

The next day it was back over the Top of the World, but with a stop at the community of Chicken. Named Chicken because the locals could not spell ptarmigan, the town isn't much more than two restaurants, four stores three RV parks, an old mining dredge, a few current mining operations, and a 'learn to pan gold' tourist sluice box.

It being a beautiful day and as gold panning involving playing in water, as well as being a quintessential Alaskan experience, it was time to give it a try.  Best decision ever!!!  Gold panning is taking a shovel full of dirt and washing it and swirling it until nothing is left but gold!  Shinning, gleaming gold.  We panned 5 shovel-fulls and got 'color' in every one.

Now we're back at the campground.  Looking north I keep thinking about the gold in them thar hills...and thinking about going back for some more.

A Day in the Life of an Alaskan Campground Host

Weed Wacking at Lakeview!

Like mornings everywhere, the morning of a camphost starts with a good cup of coffee. Unlike everywhere however, we're in a primitive Alaskan campground miles from town. After that first cup of coffee, the day evolves into multiple tasks that fall into two categories; maintenance and hosting. The maintenance jobs are predictable and straight forward. The hosting...that's where we're never entirely sure what the day will bring.

There are actually two campgrounds in our 'domain'. The one we live at, Deadman Lake, is 1.2 miles from the highway. It has 14 primitive sites, well-spaced along a 3/4 mile loop. The campground also has three sets of outhouses, a 1/4 mile interpretive trail with observation deck, a small boat ramp, a dock, and a screened pavilion.

Dock at Deadman

Lakeview Campground is 10 miles North west. With one outhouse, and 10 sites set closer together and closer to the road, Lakeview is often as busy as Deadman.

After coffee and breakfast we start the maintenance portion of the day by cleaning the outhouses. Word on the Alcan is that our outhouses are the cleanest ones for hundreds of miles. We've driven those miles, visited some of those other outhouses and we agree. First we walk the loop to clean the outhouses. We also check the dock and boat ramp for pike racks, or lost underwear, the sites for any garbage (which we rarely find) and the trash cans. If the cans are full then we fire up the camp truck and throw the bags into the back. Then it's off to Lakeview campground, where we do it all over again. From there it's another 6 miles down the road to Northway to throw the garbage into the Fish and Wildlife dumpster. If the truck needs fuel, there's a small store here. Then we drive back to Deadman, pulling off to check the occasional roadside interpretive pull offs.

Weed Wacking at the Border

At this point we'll also do some of the other maintenance work. Weed wacking, painting, dock cleaning, door repairs, road maintenance, etc. About once every two weeks we dig out our passports and head for the Alaska/Canada border. One of our jobs is to maintain the "Welcome to Alaska" pull off. Usually it needs a bit of trimming and some trash pick up. The job takes longer than it should as we spend about half the time there taking photos of folks standing in front of the Welcome sign. To get back to the campground we pass through U.S. customs. That takes a little more time, and if it's not busy, even more as we stop to chat with the customs officers. It's a lonely job out on the border!

Back at the campground, campers have generally moved on by noon. One or two might stay a few days, three guys actually stayed a week pike fishing, but most just spend the night on their way in or out of Alaska. This is generally our off time. We relax, take of hike, go fishing, etc. and keep on eye on the road into camp. Around 3:00 or so, the campers start rolling in again and the 'hosting' begins. We try and touch base with everyone letting them know about the local dogs who loop through the camp, the 7pm Ranger Talk and remind them not to burn down the forest. It's also good to remind them that they can only use dead and downed trees. No felling is allowed, and no, we don't sell firewood. The taiga may look wet, but with the black spruce and Labrador tea plants this place is a tinder box. Other hosting tasks have included helping a guy fix a flat, providing fishing and hiking advice, orientation (amazingly a number of folks aren't really sure where they are), and general chit chat.

The Official Truck

If it's Saturday or Sunday, our hosting duties also include giving the Ranger Talk. I talk about Moose The Alaskan moose is a fascinating animal and an integral piece of the Alaskan experience. If you want to know more, stop by the pavilion at 7:00!

Between 8 and 10, a second wave of campers arrive. Hosting at this point generally just involves letting them know of the remaining openings and directions to other camping spots. We're tired, they're tired and we're all ready to call it a day.

If I Wear Sunglasses at Night, Do I Also Need Sunscreen?

C

Caught my first Pike @ 10:00 - with Sunglasses

Last night the sun set at 10:30, not rising again until 5:30 or so. And it felt weird. Only a month and half ago, at the zenith, it set at 12:30, twilight never ended and the sun rose at 3:30. I've gotten used to the perpetual daylight. You could even say I've grown to love it.

At first it was hard to settle down and get to sleep. The body just wasn't getting those nighttime vibes that come after dusk. It just wanted to keep going. Laying down, I kept feeling like I was missing something. That's when I started wearing my sunglasses after 10:00 pm (and singing 80's songs). Just so I could get to sleep by 11 or so. Dave also covered up the skylight in the bedroom and added extra curtains. With that, we could simulate nighttime enough to get back into a regular sleep routine. Still...I loved getting up at night and looking out...and seeing.

I also loved going on late night hikes and paddles. A day could easily start with a hike, followed by a good five or six hour rest, and end with a long paddle, all in broad daylight. Out on the water at 10:00pm, in full sun, I'd wonder if I should have put on sunscreen.

Late Night Jam Session (Notice daylight)

It also took a while to get used to not seeing the sun where I thought it should be. Yes, it was in the sky, but timewise, not anywhere near where expected. Basically if you tried to tell the time of day by the sun it always seemed to be between 11 am and 1 pm. Occasionally it'd be far enough to the west that it felt like 4 or so.... when it was really 9:00. A single day just went on forever.

By the time we leave Alaska at the beginning of September. The sun will be on what seems a 'normal' track for an Easterner, setting around 8pm and rising around 6:30. I won't need to wear sunglasses to trick my internal clock into sleep mode. I never did end up putting on sunscreen for a 10pm hike or paddle, but it was one of the many thought-provoking experiences of Alaska.

Going to town!

Driving the Gov't Truck to Tok

When you live 70 miles and approximately an hour and half out in the middle of the boreal forest, with no phone, no internet, no TV or radio, the weekly trip to town is a big event. Especially when that town is Tok, Alaska.

Tok is just the right size for a brief visit to civilization. It's just big enough to have one grocery store, one outfitter (owned by the same guys as the grocery store), one restaurant (American), one food truck (Thai), a small library, a hardware store without any signage, a sled dog association, two tourist shops, two liquor stores (neither of which carries more than 7 or so varieties of beer and wine) and the Tetlin National Wildlife Refuge office (aka water, laundry machines, wifi and nice people!).

The trip itself is also part of the 'excitement.' Summer in Alaska is also road construction season. At

Following the Pace Car

the same time that the crews are fixing one part of the road another section is disintegrating. Slaloming around ever expanding potholes and flying over frost heaves adds a roller-coaster ride feeling. Then there are the construction delays. Those usually entail a good 15 minute or more stop while all the cars, motorcycles, bicyclists, trucks, and RV's queue up. Folks get out, stretch their legs. talk with one another, and get the latest construction update from the traffic person. Then the pilot car shows up and we all jump into our vehicles for the winding trip down the road, dodging gravel trucks and spreaders.

Of course the scenery is really the highlight. Next week's trip will be our 6th and it's still thrilling to see the Alaska range rising in the West, the Wrangell's in the South and the panoramic views of the Tanana River Valley. This year's rainfall has been much higher than average and the rivers are all running wild. About 10 miles out of Tok we cross the Tanana River and it's always amazing to see how high and fast it is running.

The Bridge to and From Civilization

Crossing the bridge is also where we come into cell phone and data range. As the phone starts buzzing with all the missed call and new email messages we know it's time to transition from back-country to town mode. It's good to catch up with all our friends and family and load up with supplies, but after 5 hours of that, it also feels good to cross back over the Tanana River and back into the wild!