So You're Moving to Alaska--Good for You!: adventures

Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Nous sommes Alaskiwi!

Simon and Chris and the whole Alaskiwi Team are back!

They returned very early yesterday morning after a flight out of Unalakleet to Anchorage, where Joanne and Dale left the dog truck for them. Not only did they have to pack up and fly, dogs and all, they had to drive hundreds of miles to get home.

Although Nome was the original goal, a time crunch forced them to call it quits at Unalakleet: clients from the lower 48 are expected soon for a trip to Tolovana Hot Springs beginning Sunday, and the Alaskiwis knew they needed a few days rest before this next adventure. The Iditarod racers finally caught them on the trail around Old Woman Mountain, but they actually landed in Unalakleet ahead of this year’s winner (Dallas Seavey).

Besides having to deal with the race, they had other problems: it had warmed up before they started, so the trail was soft and deep most of the way. On their second day, they ran into a blizzard at Minto: Chris said it was like “nails driving into your face.” There was unrelenting windchill most of the way on the Yukon, and a gale off the Bering Sea greeted them at Unalakleet. They had thought about turning around a few times, but they pushed on in spite of their difficulties. Along the way they met some kind folks who offered shelter and campfire wood, and made instant friends of children in villages who apparently had never tasted a Gummy Bear.

Like the mushers of old, they ran small teams of big-boned, thick-furred dogs, and had no pit stops with hot meals and hot water for the dogs’ food ready for them, but had to brew it the old fashioned way, on the trail. This of course took time, and as the racers got closer, spectators sometimes confused them with Iditarod mushers, and sometimes people scorned them when it was discovered they were not in the race but were simply exploring the trail at their own pace purely for the adventure.

Last night the two boys looked tired but were otherwise their usual cheerful selves. Chris had a bit of windburn on his face, but he said it was nice to be able to feel sensation in his toes again. Smokey and Porky were pretty low-key, dozing by the fire and gassing up a storm in the living room; only Lassie seemed to have her usual bouncy joie de vivre. But they are all heroes in my book, and I think I can speak for everyone when I say: Je suis Alaskiwi!

Saturday, March 7, 2015

THERE THEY GO!!

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=750847091678720&set=vb.162212353875533&type=2&theater

or....not.

Looks like Toby decided to pull over and say Hi to Jojo and her camera (and hopefully some Yummy Chummies)

:-)

Iditarod starts Monday, right here in Fairbanks!!

Monday, March 2, 2015

Home to Nome

Simon and Chris, kinda like Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, are on the road (actually mushing trail) to Nome. They left Saturday morning, and in a few hours they hit a blizzard.

But they're Kiwis, which means they probably have some funny-sounding word for blizzard, they face it, they laugh at it, they dig out of the snow and they get up and do it all over again.

They hope to make it in a couple of weeks, well ahead of the Iditarod teams. Joanne and Dale are flying out to meet them, and then the whole show, dogs and all, fly back to Fairbanks.

You can follow their progress here

WHOOPS, I MEANT here

:-)

we had a friendly game of cards and some nice roast buffalo for their big sendoff

Monday, August 25, 2014

Hunting and Fishing (part 2)

Our volunteering mission for science accomplished, we regrouped at Boardwalk Fish & Chips for halibut on a wooden stick, followed by white wine on a wooden bench. We sat amid sun and surf, contemplating our next move.

The night before at our motel room in Soldotna we looked out at the Kenai River and noticed that fish were jumpin'. And the anglers were high. High on fishing, anyway.

Jojo proposed we drive back to Soldotna, book another night at the Kenai River Lodge, get a rod and reel, bait and lures, the whole nine yards--and go fishing.

Fishing!!

I thought--really? Can we do that?

I've never been fishing before.

Fishing is one of those things someone teaches you at a young age. In high school my boyfriend went fishing, but I never accompanied him. I had my mind made up that hunting and fishing were cruel sports that I would never, ever be part of. And I lived inside that reality most of my life.

In Alaska, fishing is not so much a sport as a way of life. It is just part of what it means to be an Alaskan.

Practically speaking, this is because we still have more fish than people. One day that will change, and we may change the way we think about it.

Fish--in particular the salmon--have shaped the Alaskan wilderness. They are a keystone species. The annual pulse of spawning salmon is jaw-dropping. They swim in enormous numbers from the sea up the waterways to spawn and die in their natal streams which they locate by smell. What people and bears and bald eagles don't catch turns into thousands of tons of nutrients that fuel the ecosystem. Without this fuel, life here would be very different. There would be no bears or eagles or moose or squirrel or vast, productive forests that depend upon the nutrients in salmon carcasses.

You could think of the salmon as the red blood cells coursing through the arteries of the wildnerness, delivering their loads of nutrients to keep the living tissue of the forests alive and healthy.

And we got to catch some! Or--try to. The silver and pink salmon are running as I write, the kings (or reds) are just finished for the season.

Jojo (aka my "Fishin Buddy") looked very confident in Fred Myers trying out rods, inspecting lures and lines. She had no fear walking up to the young man behind the sporting goods counter, asking all kinds of questions, admitting we were newbies. But in our rubber boots and Billy Bob caps I guess our money looked green enough to the store employees. We walked out with a rod and reel and line, sinkers, bobbers, a hook or two. And my very first fishing license!

That's when you know you're really an Alaskan.

Then a stop at a bait and tackle store for some eggs (on the advice of a silver-haired gentleman at Freddy's). Not hard-boiled eggs as I thought, but salmon eggs.

Salmon eggs? Really? Isn't that like eating their own children?

Ah, well they are salmon...

Back at the Lodge we used my Fishin Buddy's iphone to look up handy things on the internet such as how to thread the reel and tie an "egg loop" to hold the salmon roe above the hook. And by we, I mean her. She did it all.

By late afternoon we spent a glorious time on the little pier just behind our Lodge, casting and fishing our little hearts out until dark.

Did we catch anything? We sure did--we caught Fishin' Fever!

It would have been nice to catch a fish, but for me, it would have been the icing on the cake. The real fun (the reel fun?) was learning how to cast, to feel the line in the water, to move it in a way to make the fish bite, then to feel the fish nibble, to feel the crazy force of the fish pull the line, to know when to fight and when to relax--just to figure out the mind of the fish was the most fun of all.

I can't wait to retire from grad school to become a full-time fisherwoman :-)

Jojo threads the reel from scratch by watching a video on her phone.

A true Alaskan woman, she carries her leatherman tool everywhere. Doesn't that make it a leatherwoman tool?

Ooh, the shiny beads and sinkers

Jo tied a perfect egg loop

And the eggs held!

she shows me how it's done

This is my very first cast. And I look like my brother Bill.

Good job, Fishin Buddy!

Woo Hoo!

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Hunting and Fishing (part 1)

Some friends in the world of Cakile (sea rocket, the annual beach plant I researched for my Master's) want to know the extent of the spread of two closely related species (C. edentula and C. maritima) along the west coast of North America, including California, Oregon, and Alaska.

Sea rocket originated in the Middle East a long, long time ago, eventually migrating on the ocean currents across the Atlantic to North America. The seeds of this plant are quite remarkable. The seed is about the size of a grain of rice, encapsulated in a very buoyant, fleshy, salt water-resistant fruit that looks kind of like strings of shiny little plastic green beads arranged along a stalk. Because of this floaty quality, the seed has hitch-hiked around the world to seek its fortune as a kind of biological stowaway in the ballast water of ships. After a long ocean voyage, it loves nothing better than to germinate on the bare sand a few feet from the surf. Once established, it grows quickly into a large, sprawling weed, topped with unremarkable little purple flowers. The non-showy flowers can be either self-pollinated or get somebody else's pollen from a visiting bee or fly. The plant puts most of its energy into developing those shiny little beads to perfection. A good half-meter sized Cakile (or "Cakilezilla" as I like to call them) can contain hundreds of fruits, and all this weight eventually results in the plant collapsing upon the sand, which is perfect, as you will see. The fruits consist of two very cleverly designed segments: the segment closest to the branch end is usually cross-pollinated, while the segment on the very tip is usually self-pollinated. Once the seeds have ripened, the fruits at the tip can detach and float away, while those on the branch end stay put on the mother plant. Alas, Cakile is an annual, so Mom always dies in the end, but her attached children--half siblings for the most part---overwinter in the sand to germinate the following spring.

Two years ago, I'd spotted a single specimen of American sea rocket (Cakile edentula) on the little beach behind Two Sisters Bakery in Homer, Alaska. I told my friends I'd try to make it down there this summer. As luck would have it this year was good timing, and Joanne, who makes her living among humans as a nurse practitioner, was game to accompany me for a couple of days of exotic plant sleuthing.

I honestly didn't think we'd find any. I'd decided on Homer Spit, a 4.5 mile stretch of sand that sticks out from the southern end of the Kenai Peninsula like a long, skinny finger into Kachemak Bay. I chose a half-mile transect along the beach beginning at the RV park near the tip heading west toward the bright red wooden barn housing Lucky Pierre Charters. From my past experience, sea-rocket is usually found among people and their boats, and as we started out, we found lots of things that resembled sea-rocket: sea purselane (Honckenya peploides), seabeach groundsel (Senecio pseudoarnica), seashore saltbush (Atriplex drymarioides), and oysterleaf (Mertensia maritima) among others. Then Joanne called me over: she'd spotted it: Cakile edentula. The good folks of the West Coast Cakile Project had provided a great visual guide of both species that we'd printed for reference, and Joanne, who has no botanical training outside of gardening, was a natural. Once we saw the first one, we found others rather few and far between. We came to the end of the transect with just 24 plants, and then in the shade of Lucky Pierre's we found more than three times that many: some were tiny little things with one or two fruits, most were medium-sized, and some were big honking Cakilezillas loaded with beads. Although European sea rocket (Cakile maritima) has been documented in Alaska, we did not find a single one in our beach walk.

But this was just Part One of our excellent adventure...

our sampling map

Homer Spit looking East toward Seldovia

Sea rocket growing among rocks by the sea

C. edentula fruits resemble shiny green beads

me with a Cakilezilla

Saturday, February 1, 2014

A Lifelong Dream...

This page is dedicated to Simon J. Mcloughlin, my landlord, nextdoor neighbor and friend. Simon, a New Zealander living in Fairbanks for the last 20 years, is the original "Alaskiwi. " Read on:

Simon at the YQ300 staging area today. Helene Genet, our neighbor and scientist at UAF, generously offered to be Simon's assistant throughout the duration of the race.

Simon giving Helene pointers on how to keep "Charlie Brown" (his ancient Ford) under control

Porky Mcloughlin, Ph.D., discusses her soon-to-be-published scientific paper on climate change. But for now, she has a dog team to lead to victory!

Eager faces ready for adventure: Elsie, Blob, Jasper

2nd Street, Downtown Fairbanks. 17 F above zero, a warm one!!! Normally the race starts on the surface of the frozen Chena River, but recent warming made City Fathers concerned about 3,000 + souls standing on thin ice!

Most photogenic dogs in the 2014 YQ 300: Lassie, and her sister Blob. They drew spectators and cameras like flies to honey! Simon, you should charge, I'm just sayin'!!!

Cow, Buddha, and Lassie.

Most important bag.

Allright, now they are FINALLY ready!!!!

Yukon Quest/ Iditarod Champion, the great Lance Mackey, just shook Simon's hand and congratulated him on his first YQ. I love this. They are both heroes: Alaskans, Fairbanksians, mushers, men of a shared heart. Thank you, Lance, for encouraging Simon on his first Yukon Quest!

Porky catches my eye as if to say: HECK YEAH, FINALLY!!!!!

Meanwhile, Buddha and Lassie are like: "300 MILES?? REALLY???

Life in Fairbanks would not have been half as enjoyable (let alone bearable) if it wasn't for Simon and his son Gareth.

Simon and Gareth taught Joe and me the WAY to enjoy ourselves during the long dark winters. And they taught us that sled dogs are the life and soul of interior Alaska. A good dog will be your friend, your protector, your more-than-willing means of transportation and recreation through the frozen wilderness of spruce and birch over hill and dale, across frozen rivers and lakes and ponds, through overflow, and on until you come to a snug little cabin in the mountains. They give all this, and willingly spend the night outdoors snuggled in a bit of straw for some warm food and a scratch behind the ears. Back home, they'll also happily drape themselves on a couch in front of a TV or before a blazing fire.

This year, a life long dream has finally been realized.

Before we knew Simon, he was an up and coming musher at Trailbreaker Kennel, working for Dave Monson (husband of famed Iditarod winner Susan Butcher). Simon was the first New Zealander ever to be signed up on the Yukon Quest 1000 race roster (2008). A neck injury forced Simon to scratch.

Five years passed before Simon would find the ways and means to make his dream come true, and race the Yukon Quest.

An accidental pregnancy of his dog Smoky (of Trail Breaker bloodlines) with a Mackenzie River husky male produced nine lovely, strong, happy, athletic pups: Blob, Brownie, Buddha, Cow, Elsie, Jasper, Lassie, Polar, and Toby--and within a year, Simon had a dog team of eleven--including Smoky's clownish and athletic sister Porky, also a Trail Breaker, who quickly became lead dog of the family pack in harness.

I myself have experienced the rocket-ride with the Mcloughlin Group--on a February afternoon in 2011, I volunteered to be strapped in with not only my skis and poles, but also Simon's moose rifle (them moose can be right ornery!). In just eight minutes we flew up our road and into the local woods to Goldstream Sports, our neighborhood bike/ski shop.

MUST SEE:

Simon at the start line today

Live Tracker--Follow Simon's progress HERE

A walk down memory lane (courtesy of Gareth's You Tube Channel):

Future Yukon Quest Pups at mealtime (Don't all charge at once!!! There's NONE in the BOWL!)

Mcloughlin Group First Time out of the Driveway (GOTTA see THIS!!!)

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Our Alaskiwi Adventure

Joe and I accepted an invite to join Simon, Gareth and Joanne for 3 nights in the White Mountains. The trick was to get the rig to the Wickersham Dome parking lot without breaking the bumper off!