Alaska revisited December, 2000

Dear Sara and John:
As promised, here are the whys and wherefores of our last Alaska trip. The simple whys are: it’s there, it’s in it its elements, and besides the air was free. Couldn’t pass up $2,000 of free air.
Because our travel agency had won five free sets of ticket wherever Alaska airlines flew, I used my set to Fly to Vancouver, B.C. and come home after a seven day cruise and a 10 day car rental excursion around the interior of Alaska.
As soon as I found that there were still sets of free air coupons in the office safe that would expire on the 19th of December, I called Carol. I told her we could fly anywhere we wanted to go. We could head back to Puerto Vallarta and the warm Mexican sun – a real pull from the foggy, wet California winter- or we could fly to Nome. I just threw that in thinking the warmth of Mexico would get her. But she replied: “Nome? Nome? They have musk ox in Nome. Well, that was it. Nome it was.
We actually had about three days to prepare for this trip. A few last minute purchases for dealing with the impending cold and we were off. Nome because was totally different from anything we had seen on our September trip, because it would be an opportunity to do things unique to the area. Some research on the net found that dog sledding, snowmobiling, ice fishing for Alaskan King crab, and lunching with native elders, were some of the things that made the trip to see the musk ox extra va-va-voom.
All of the above were done with the exception of the ice fishing, since the Bering Sea wasn’t totally frozen yet. It was such a warm winter, they told us. We were sooo lucky. It was only -10 F. whereas last year it was -30, even without the wind chill. The temperature actually hovered in the 20’s most of the time. Occasionally rising to a steamy 32 and then dipping back into the teens and single figures. With the wind chill it much colder. -16 was the coldest we actually experienced. It made for some difficulty in clothing. You’d have to bundle up heavily to head out and about, then disrobe layer after layer when entering a building.
We arrived at night. Of course, in Nome at mid winter, you could arrive at mid day and it would still be near night. The sun would peek it head above the horizon at noon, depart around 4 p.m. and with an hour of twilight on each side, my public education math make that six hours of semi-light a day. It was never what we’d call bright. It was so trippy to walk downtown at ten a.m. or so and have it look like midnight. Stores were open, people were bustling and the holiday spriit abounded with lights and laughter. But it was still fairly dark.
The B&B we stayed in was right on the Bering Sea. When we got up that first morning and ventured out, we found that the sea was about 90% frozen over. But by that night, the ice was all gone and it looked just like any other sea shore you have seen a thousand times in your lives. Apparently, the ice is formed out to sea and the tides and winds bring it onshore then blow it back off shore again. Each progressive movement builds the ice pack until it is so thick that it has nowhere to go and stays for the duration. It actually frizzed out about three miles into the Bering Sea. At that distance people can safely do lots of things, and it becomes a temporary land bonus for the “Nomites.” In fact, after Xmas, everybody walks out to a pre-determined area and “plants” their Xmas tree. It is known as the “Nome National Forest.” In this treeless expanse, the people do whatever they can to replicate life in a more temperate climes. They also have golf tournament in March called the Bering Sea Ice Classic. They form a six hole golf course with astro turf forming the greens, and they have an excuse to have some fun. They use orange balls so as not to lose them in the expanse of white and apparently a blast is had by everybody.
Frozen turkey bowling on the ice is another big pastime. The turkeys are butchered, as opposed to just leaving the out to die in the cold, feathers and all. The result is no different to the turkey, but is more in keeping with the holiday spirit. Maybe, it’s a tenderizing technique. They then set up pins at the end of the “alley, and have a tournament. Bring your own turkey.
As you can see, a good sense of humor and a vivid imagination is critical living 100 miles below the arctic circle.
Another good attribute is the realization that while the cold is a limitation, it isn’t a detriment. Kids play outside with the temp hovering around zero without hats, ans spirits remain high in spite of the long winter nights. There is a resoluteness and grit to the people that is admirable, and a sour people they are not.
With only four full days there, we jumped right into our activities. Shopping in the frozen north means there are a lot of individual items specific to the region –tons of native Alaskan carved whale and walrus ivory. The Eskimos, for lack of a better word, are the only ones authorized to harvest, carve, and sell the items. They range from small sets of earrings for $15 to huge items with whole pictorial stories represented selling for thousands of dollars. It also means a lot of touristy things which are shipped in and which are more expensive than you can get for in other places. All food items and commodities come in from the south.
So our first day was spent just orienting ourselves to the town and to the cold. Layering is the big thing. It took us a little experimenting to find the right combination of how much clothes we needed to wander around but not burn up in spontaneous combustion when entering warm buildings.
The real highlight of our first day was lunch with the tribal elders. The local senior citizens is the way we’d describe them, but here, the veneration and respect they generate in the north is gratifying to see, especially, I guess, as I approach that situation myself☺ We told our table mates of our plans and they were very excited for us. To the point where they made us promise to come back and tell them of our experiences. They ranged ethnically from full Eskimo to a blue-eyed, light skinned woman, who, we found out was part Swedish.
But they had lots of insights to the area, and a great sense of humor. The most surprising aspect we found to the native Alaskans was the dove-tailing of native culture with Christianity. There must be some correlations between the two, because they have really taken to the Christian faith. On the negative side was the disease and alcohol which came with the newcomers. Alcoholism is a huge problem in Alaska with the indigenous peoples. I’m still trying to sort out in my mind the respective ups and downs of the situation.
The next day we took off in search of the Musk ox. That prehistoric type of cattle which have adapted so well to the north that they can not run very far because they will overheat. They have an undercoat called quiviot which is eight times warmer than wool. It is so light and soft that it is prized by people around the world. The native cooperatives work the fiber into beautiful articles of clothing, one of which, naturally resides around the neck of a fiber artist from Clements.
They had been seen in the area and while there are thousands on them on the peninsula, they are nomadic and where they are today ain’t exactly where they were yesterday. WE went by snowmobile or “snow machine” as they are called there. Our guide was James Barefoot, which I might add is not a particularly good idea there at this time of the year.
I figured with a name like tht he must be a native Alaskan, but it turns out he is from New Mexico, and yes he is part Indian, but that comes from his mother’s side, not his father’s. The Barefoot is from England. Go figure.
With interior temps running at least 10 degrees colder than the coast we really bundled up against the wind which was blowing a good 30 miles an hour and the exhilaration of traversing across the snow at 25-30 miles an hour with the snow blowing in your face at an equal speed makes for some wild riding. We were actually gone for five hours and covered 45 miles of territory.
We had two machines. Carol and I on a smaller one and James on a larger one pulling a sled in which was food and emergency equipment, a comforting thought. Neither Carol nor I had been on snow machines, but my motorcycling days came in handy. Learning how to go up, down, and across hills took some learning curve acquisition, but being dumped into waist deep snow facilitated that learning, and each was a hilarious episode unto itself. James (not ne) loved our carefree attitude and we had a great time.
WE found the musk ox about three hours into the ride. They were on a mountainside which complicated our getting there. Carol and I had a hard time going up the steep hill, and working back and forth gaining altitude each time still wasn’t doing the job, so we left our machine, James unhooked the sled, and took me up the mountain with the more powerful machine and left Carol behind. Remember, she had the emergency supplies, food and hot drinks, and could hunker down against the sled to protect against the wind. Meanwhile, James and I traveled for about 40 minutes when he dropped me off to go return for Carol. Picture me out there in the middle of where, I didn’t have a clue, no supplies, no nada, just me and the Alaska north.
Out there by myself with a 360 degree vista of nothingness save the white expanse was amazing. I could see for miles in all directions and couldn’t help wonder what it must have been like to explore and discover all this with only dogs. The sense of wonder I had in looking around and seeing Alaska up close and personal was more than just a little tempered by the: “Oh, shit!” Feeling I had in the pit of my stomach at the thought that I was totally and utterly alone in the world with not a clue as to how to extricate myself from this should it be necessary. There were no geographical signposts, I didn’t have a clue which way we’d come or where we were. It was really a feeling I’ve never experienced in my life. But after an hour, I heard a faint putt,putt,putt which got progressively louder and then, TaDa! They appeared over the ridge top, picket me up and I didn’t know who to hug first, Carol or James☺
The musk ox conveniently waited for us. They have no natural fear of man which made them simple prey for unauthorized hunting. They just get into a line, or half circle, with the calves in the middle for group protection, and stand there. Carol and I were able to walk within 50 feet or so of them before they finally thundered off, kicking up their own personal snow storm in the process, and then stopping as soon as they could so they didn’t get too hot.
It was so great to se these magnificent animals in their natural hibitat, they represented the only dark spot on an otherwise white landscape of rolling tundra. It was probably the most pristine and environmentally authentic experiences I’ve ever had.
Mission accomplished, the way back was just as much fun. We went back to the sled, had some food and, aaaah, some hot chocolate. I got the chance to hot rod a little, kicking it up to 45 mph in places and went screaming acrocc the flat snow with Carol hanging on for dear life behind me. Only the occasional whack on the back of my head reminded me to slow down. Carol has a way of getting my attention. Then she got to drive and had me hanging on for dear life and we had a blast with her learning curve. Now, to clear up questions, I did NOT whack her on the back of her head. Some common sense still apply, even in the Alaskan wilderness.
The most amusing part of the day came was the exercising (or should I say exorcising) of normal bodily fluids. Once again, I’m convinced that God is a man because a woman wouldn’t give men such an advantage in such delicate procedures. While I was alone on the hill, I could pee without undue stress, except for the fact that extreme cold does weird things to one’s bladder. When we were having lunch, Carol looked at me and said: “I can’t hold it any longer, I’ve got to pee.” I asked James what the drill was, and he laughed and said: “Well, I turn my back and you two work as a team as best as you can since there are no trees or bushes or hillocks for the sake of privacy.” Well, Carol and I looked at each other and I just told her: “Hey, I’m labor here, you’re management. I’ll do what you tell me.” She tried to peel off necessary layers, but keep other areas as warm as possible and she squatted. I tried to balance her to keep her from going butt first down into the snow all the while trying to keep straps and flaps from blowing into unwanted areas. It reminded me of the Jerry Jeff Walker song: “Pissin in the Wind.” In the end. it all worked fairly well, and it gives poignant meaning these days when I look at her and tell her that she has rosy cheeks.
We arrived back at dark, what else, exhausted but knowing that we had an experience that would be hard to duplicate. James actually does a six day run that really intrigued us.
Sunday was supposed to be our dog sled day, but whiteout conditions prevailed and prevented that so we went off and did some more shopping for things we didn’t need, but desperately wanted.
On Monday the situation had not improved dramatically, but our guide Aaron Burrmeister said if we were game, he’d take us out. Naturally we jumped at the chance to see what it was like in the worst of conditions. Aaron runs a team of dogs each year in the Ididerod dog sled race, from Anchorage to Nome, a distance of 1100 miles which is traveled in about ten days by the better mushers.
When we got to his kennels on the outskirts of town, we were met by 50 or so howling critters.They all seemed to know what was gonna happen and they all wanted to be part of it. “Take me, take me, I wanta go, can I please.” They all seemed to be saying. I swear when they were released from their dog houses and taken to the harness, they seemed to look back and sneer, “Ha, ha, I get to go.”They looked very self-satisfied and settled down once they were harnessed to the trace chain. When all 14 dogs were attached, a simple word, “Mush” sent them off as one. With a jolt, the sled was catapulted across the snow. The wind was blowing 40 mph and it was quite cold. Aaron told us that the first part of the run was to be the worst. His assistant would break trail with a snow machine with one of us on the back of the machine, and the other would be in the dog sled following the broken trail, with Aaron, of course, the musher. Her told us that the first part of the run would be the worst, so I tried to do my paternalistic best to take it on the chin and be the dutiful husband protecting his fragile wife. I told her I’d go first to which she sharply replied: “No way, I’m going first.” The weather conditions make it worse, but all the better at the same time. You feel every bump in the snow, wrapped up in this body-baglike tent about six inches off the snow.
The dogs absolutely love to run, and run they do. The best part of their lives are spent working and animal rights activists to the contrary, there is absolutely no abuse or negative aspect to these dogs and their handlers. There is an absolute joy to the dogs, and their handlers give them the very best of care. They are, after all, what’s keeping them safe.
Nome has 4,000 occupants and is the 6th largest city in Alaska. The people are hardy and resilient. They live there because they want to, not because life has forced them into such hard conditions. It is 95% European and 5% native Alaskan. Ratios are normally reversed far in the north. WE loved our time there and h ave made plans and reservations to go back in March to see the finish of the Ididerod, and I want to golf on the Bering Sea☺
Like all our trips, this was memorable and wonderful, another aspect to this glorious planet that, when explored, teaches you about yourself as well as others, brings insight to the myriad of ways people choose to live their lives, and best of all, the opportunity to do it with Carol, whose spirit and love of adventure adds so much to my travels.
Unka