poem by Joan Kane, award winning Anchorage poet

Pure/Pour/A Priori
full moon’s rays spill
a skeleton path on water
tell me the spell
you held me under
simpler to undo
than the first split steps
I took towards you.
Wrath and swell
of the silt-black sea
heavy and mute
with the weight
of so much ice melting
returns agency
to me, and ease.
Eyes travel,
trace along the shape
of pure coincidence;
sere white falls hued
through night air,
valuable, and silvers
on the waves.
Shafts of light
unravel, reeling
towards shore: shine
relearns its shadow image
and I relearn more.
I can scarcely scrape
and scratch my eyes
across the moon’s rough
surface. To conjure
this drag and chase down
the fixed spines of time
and the firm arrival
at some great vein
of truth appears
difficult. My own
divinations, though, draw
me down the coast
and raise my eyes high
despite the bone-bright
glance of the naked
skeleton path on the water.
— By Joan Kane

Mount Eklutna Hunt

Looking across the Inlet to the Lake Clark Wilderness

Sunday offered a chance to hunt with Eric, a friend of the clerk now occupying Meghan's former clerkship in Kodiak. Eric and his Setter Birch took me up Mount Eklutna to try our hand at grouse and ptarmigan hunting. I was pleased to join a seasoned professional - with a working dog no less - for my first Alaskan foray. After a stop at Fred Meyer to purchase my hunting license ($35) and a sandwich ($5), we drove to the trail head and began our hike up Mount Eklutna (priceless).

Eric and Birch with the day's first quarry

We climbed a steep slope to reach Eklutna's wide western ridge and, as small flakes started fly, we thought we would be hunting a white bird amid falling snow. We continued to angle across the peak's high shoulder over soft subalpine vegetation. Low lying thickets of black crowberries dyed the white fur on Birch's legs purple. The snow let up and Birch soon found a bird. Walking towards the bird and Birch, we were still a good distance off. The lone ptarmigan's only chance was to take wing before Eric had a chance to get within range. The bird froze, however, allowing Eric to get within firing range and Birch flushed him. After a single shot we had a bird in the bag. We soon spotted a pure white covey of about dozen birds fly from a nearby saddle. Several birds dropped out of the covey and Eric and I split up to maximize our chances. Like the first quarry I was able to stalk a lone male and harvest him with one shot.

A bird in the hand...

Makin' Friends

Last week I volunteered to help the Friends of the Chugach National Forest Avalanche Information Center orchestrate a season-opening fundraiser. "The Friends Group" is a volunteer organization that supports the area's relatively new avalanche info center. Ironically backcountry users in the Chugach, North America's snowiest range, have only recently had the benefit of an avalanche forecasting organization -- something that is well established in places like Colorado's Front Range and Utah's Wasatch. I joined the Friends Group back in May anticipating the use of the center's many webcams and weather stations during the upcoming winter. The fundraiser featured a sideshow presentation by world renown ski mountaineer Andrew McLean. Featured in 2007's ski film Steep, Andrew delivered an inspiring and lighthearted presentation on his first forays into big mountain skiing. The Bear Tooth Theater's movie-screen size projector proved a fitting venue for his spectacular pictures of Denali and Sultana. Aside from sipping a pint of beer it almost felt like the entire sold out crowd was climbing each ridge with Andrew and his buddies. Needless to say, the fundraiser was a success and the following night I joined the other volunteers for a dinner with Andrew. We feasted on caribou, dall sheep and elk. Andrew's next trip? A November exploration of Antarctica.

out and about

Sunday afternoon we took a stroll along the boardwalk at Potter Marsh. We saw mallard ducks, a juvenile great blue heron (although its northern range includes Prince William Sound, Anchorage is uncommon ground for the GBH) , a glaucous gull, a northern harrier hawk and trumpeter swans with nearly adult-sized cygnets.

Bruce practices an interpretive wildlife presentation.

Inspecting whitewash, Bruce hypothesizes that a large raptor landed on the rail and lingered, looking for prey in the marsh grass below.


Walking the interpretive trail along Bird Creek southeast of town.

Remnants of fireweed catch the light.

The boys head for the trail.

frosty morning

Last Saturday's sunrise at about 8:50

(frosty fungus photos for Mom)

home improvements

New curtains for our bedroom and two new birdfeeders!

We have been visited by black-capped chickadees and red-breasted nuthatches, although our 2000 Sibley guide says that they don't occur this far north...perhaps the changing climate has expanded their range? I love hearing the birds in the yard-their singing reminds me of being home on the farm.

hockey hooligans

Last week some friends invited Bruce and me to a UAA Seawolves hockey game. Our friends are University of Michigan Law alumni, so our tickets were in the Spirit Section, and we had great front-row seats. One of the MI fans brought a trumpet and everyone, other than Bruce and me, knew the cheers...we were silently rooting for the Seawolves, to no avail. Saturday night we went with our friend Jeff to an Alaska Aces game, which was a lot of fun-I think that we are becoming hockey fans...

I miss the sea...

From Weymouth

by Will Eaves

What made you wake me so early
And with a look of mischief say,
A start this fine’s surely a sign
The sea is calling us today?
The train was blue, the water green:
A tinted postcard sent in May.

I’m sure I must have held your hand
In backstreets crammed with grockle shops
And pubs and reeling fishermen.
The smell I couldn’t place was hops.
I rode in state along the beach,
Beside the ride that never stops.

I missed a few easy lessons.
The teacher smiled, as if to say
It’s fine—it would have been a crime
To hear the call and disobey.
What did you do? The train was blue.
We had tea at a beach café

And well-thumbed fish-paste sandwiches—
That gritty complement to hours
Spent toeing desperately the line
Around two limpet-cladded towers
The sea and I besieged, the moat
I’m sure I must have said was ours.

What made me want to go early
And with a look of mischief say,
But I’m hungry? You wrote in haste:
His Highness made the donkeys bray.
The train was blue, the water green.
Yours, waiting by the beach café.

Weather Season

It looks like Weather Season is ready to rip

Ah yes, now I remember what the rest of the Alaskan year feels like. For a while there I was getting fairly comfortable in the Last Frontier, what with the 12 hours of sunshine each day. Well leave it to the Alaska Regional Headquarters of the National Weather Service to provide a backhand slap of reality. October marks the beginning of what I like to call weather season, which lasts from about October through April. You can tell it's weather season because the Alaska weather map on the NWS webpage begins to light up like a Christmas tree. Each color represents a different weather watch or warning. The mainland gets the exciting colors like red, orange and yellow, while the surrounding waters get deeper shades of blue with increased severity of the warning. I would like to see a time lapse of the colors on the map changing throughout the year. Today we got our first real weather advisory of the season - a high wind watch. Some areas of Anchorage are forecasted to feel 85 mph winds. The advisory suggests that people "secure all loose objects that could be blown or damaged by the wind." Meghan and I will batten down the hatches tonight, who knows maybe a power outage will precipitate a three day weekend. On second thought that could also mean a lot of rapidly thawing fish in the freezer.

Alaska Hunter (almost)

Meghan really liked the ptarmigan patch awarded to each participant

Last Spring Meghan's mom and dad dropped off a 12 gauge and a rifle during their visit to Kodiak. Meghan's family harvests about five deer each Fall from their wooded and hilly 90 acres in southwest Wisconsin. Sometimes Meghan's Mom is known to "bring home the venison" when the boys come back empty-handed. So, eager to provide Meghan a healthy alternative to the increasingly synthetic proteins found in supermarkets (aka chicken and beef), I completed an Alaska hunter safety course on Saturday. Provided by the state's Department of Fish and Game and delivered by an all-volunteer crew, the course was a great introduction to Alaskan hunting. For instance Bob, one of the instructors who sits on the much maligned (depending on which side of the fence you're on) Alaska Big Game Board, shared years of helpful know-how on the state's rules and regulations.

Looks like I'll be asking for some cammo this Christmas

During the course we handled several different firearms including an old Winchester lever action rifle (as seen in True Grit). We then walked a field course to identify several different species of game and discussed whether it was safe, and legal to take a shot. After a short "written" (50 multiple choice questions) exam, we picked up rifles and took the marksmanship qualification exam at the range. From three positions, standing, kneeling and sitting we aimed to place four shots within a 4" target. I successfully completed the course and look forward to putting my new knowledge to use.

The "P" stands for Pass

yard traffic

More of our favorite Kodiakans visited last weekend-Dirk and Jennifer came through town on Friday. Dirk snapped these shots Saturday afternoon. They headed back to the island with Halloween costumes and the possibility of a new car.

first frost

Photo by Don Paulson

Winter is coming...Canada Geese are flying south.

This morning a pink sunrise illuminates Denali and Mt. Foraker, rising

across the Inlet from my window.

Bowhead News

Balaena mysticetus

The Anchorage Daily News features a report this morning about a successful weekend whale hunt in the village of Barrow - the northernmost community in the United States. According to the story, whalers struck their target soon after first light on Saturday morning. Meghan and I received word of the successful hunt about twelve hours later in Anchorage. As we were standing in line to purchase movie tickets two teen girls where in line next to us. One looked up from a cell phone and said "awesome, they got four whales!" The other girl shared her enthusiasm then both girls stood silent, pondering something amid the flash and noise of the multiplex.

A mural in downtown Anchorage features a bowhead cow and calf.

Even More Kodiak Visitors

Rob and Mary Jane in their element on the Emerald Isle

Meghan and I hosted Rob and Mary Jane, two good friends from Kodiak this weekend. We had a great time sampling some of Anchorage's finer dining options and firing up the Kodiak rumor mill. Rob and Mary Jane's visit, however, was punctuated with sorrow as well. Part of the reason for their visit was to offer support to a fellow Kodiakan who recently suffered critical injuries while on a project at a remote site on the Aleutian Chain. We are hoping for the best as our friend begins the fight toward recovery.
Meghan and I also joined Zoya and her daughter Nora for a live performance of Disney's The Lion King. All groans aside the show was quite the spectacle. Although a Disney production, the sets, costumes and dialogue looked and felt very human. Meghan attested to the authentic African influences and the animals were portrayed in a uniquely organic fashion. Nora clapped with glee after each scene. We walked away from the theater awestruck by the remarkable performance. While we really enjoy seeing our Kodiak friends in Anchorage, we are itching to return to the Emerald Isle soon. Perhaps a Kodiak surfing / hunting trip is in our future...

Kodiak in the news

This piece by Anchorage Daily News columnist Julia O'Malley takes me right back...

Update: The Kodiak Audubon Society's monthly newsletter, Birds About Town, reports that a Storm-Petrel blew into town during the storm mentioned in Julia's column. Storm-Petrels, though not the most colorful birds in the north Pacific, live quite an interesting life. Mating for life, spending almost their entire adult life at sea, and producing only single-egg clutches, Storm-Petrels can live to be over 30 years old - ancient for a bird their size (between a robin and a crow). Perhaps the other Storm-Petrel spotted by our friend Patrick on a boat near Afognak Island is the mate of the bird pictured here, found in Kodiak.

Oceanodroma furcata

Williwaw Lakes Hike

On Saturday Meghan and I took a hike to Williwaw Lakes. The fall colors were in full effect and Rebel enjoyed several miles of off-leash bliss. Take a peek at the entire album here.

This giant hanging valley is known as the Ballpark.
Evidently, every major league baseball park could fit inside it.
We felt fortunate to have our own frankfurter during the hike.

The frankfurter on a ridge overlooking Cook Inlet

A recent transmission from the Mars Rover

Camp Doins

I was born in the humble mining hamlet of Silverton, CO where until recently the local paper published a section on the back page called "Camp Doins." The section would provide abbreviated details of gossip and the eccentric events that made Silverton such an interesting place for my parents to settle Out West soon after college. Because there are only two ways in and out of Silverton - precarious mountain passes often closed during the winter due to avalanches - at times it could feel as isolated as a Pacific Island. It seems that Meghan and I paralleled my parents when we decided to move to Kodiak last year. Anyway, here are some recent eccentric events from the last two weeks of our new Anchorage life.

Last Monday Meghan and I attended a lecture at the newly remodeled Anchorage Museum. "Kodiak and Chugach Mythology: East Asian Links" was delivered by a Russian anthropologist who seemed to claim that, due to Kodiak's location as the "keystone of the Pacific," it's a place where one might find many of the mythologies believed by people in both in the East and West. Meg and I pretended that we were listening to an erudite lecture at some prestigious institution, nodding our heads profusely at each accent-inflected sentence.

Last Thursday we joined some of Meg's new coworkers for a meal and a concert at the Bear Tooth. The Hold Steady, hailing from the Twin Cities and now Brooklynites, stopped in for a show before their Canadian tour. I tried to explain their sound to Meghan as The Promise Ring meets Guided by Voices post-punk rock with an ebullient spectacled "Woodie Allenish" lead singer (do I sound like Pitchfork?). Anyway, they played a full set with an encore to the delight of the talent-starved Alaska indie scene. It was a late night.

Oh yeah, and we've been doing some Xtreme household improvements like buying furniture from Craigslist, shopping at Lowe's and putting together a new dresser. If you squint it almost looks like fashioning a frontier cabin in the woods from rough timber.

Too Early?

Is it too early to be thinking snow?

Eklutna Lake tour

Happy Labor Day

farmer's market feeding frenzy

Yesterday Bruce, Rebel and I walked over to a local farmer's market. We were in a bit of a hurry because our landlady told us that the market was mobbed with people. Once we arrived, though, I realized that the crowding and the size of the market itself were of a very different scale than the markets in Wisconsin, particularly the weekly Madison market on the square (where I was recently a corn vendor). At the Madison market I have often felt like I am in the middle of combat, fighting for my cheese curds and straw flowers.

We bought broccoli, beets, carrots, potatoes, peas and flowers. The boys strolled around meeting fellow fair-goers while I elbowed my way into the veggie bins. The produce was gorgeous, gigantic and immaculate...and expensive. I had shelled out $40 before I knew it; but Bruce reminded me that we were paying for less health care down the road. My favorite purchase, a bag of peas the size of my head (which is large, as Bruce likes to remind me).