House Cat

Twelve mice, shrews as they are known here have met the bitter end in nearly two months. Although traps continue to be active, an additional pair of night eyes with an appetite are the so called big guns that I have in reserve. My little buddy came in for a quick visit today, coerced by salami at first and then by curiosity and probably the odd sensation of warmth. Luxurious as it seemed to walk upon ground not frozen, to smell the wonders of food and in abundance that doesn't run and needs not catching, I couldn't allow him to stay too long and  become domestic. He has learned the time of day when I start cooking. He comes running and with those eyes, who could not resist sharing an easy meal. Salami is a good tasting, fattening protein that he seems to enjoy immensely, and I even spruced it up by heating it for some extra flavor on Thanksgiving. Luckiest fox in all of Alaska.

A thankful day I had. Thankful for beautiful weeks of endless blue sky and sunshine, for health and wellness in this frozen land and for my little furry friend who is more trusting than ever. This is the second Thanksgiving I've had up here, and another decent meal for the annual tradition. I didn't have Turkey, but chicken curry soup was more delicious on the cold day. Stuffing was baked, but obviously it wasn't ever stuffed, so it was just a bread casserole. To top off the evening was the classic pumpkin pie. Now I've often had many mouth watering cravings for Costco pumpkin pie, and although mine wasn't that, it was a very respectable comparison and a worthy rival.

    

Baking has also been a little reward for the survival of cold, quiet and often uneventful days. I started out with banana bread and used the recipe that I had two years ago. Somehow, I recall it being so much better and more moist. It would hardly last four days and a whole loaf was gone. I have healthy portions of the good things and over indulge on the really great things. Well, this bread wasn't as spectacular but it was edible and I managed just fine. Not feeling satisfied with just okay bread, I made a recipe of decent chocolate chip cookies and added walnuts, under baked them and made them thicker. I truly enjoy making each one of them just how I would love all cookies to be. No one would say, leave out the nuts, flatten them, make them smaller, they're not done..... instead, my mind was saying go bigger, more walnuts, go ahead and let them be what you want.
So on this pursuit to quench a thirst of sweetness, I melted down a large portion of dark chocolate and spread hazelnuts over a cookie sheet and bound them together with the most delicious smelling, pleasing to the eye, pure chocolate that ever saw this side of Bristol Bay. It tastes good.

Lately, cold and clear days give way to even colder nights with crisp moon light and negative temperatures. When the moon sets, and yes I am often up at all hours of the night, it gives way to the amazing star filled skies. I sit for some time watching through binoculars and see every twinkling. I have been partial to the sword in Orion's belt for it's galaxy like existence that makes the sword so bright. I do love these sleepless nights.
 River Bay is freezing across nicely and growing thicker by the minute. Large sheets of ice are coming down river, sometimes crashing into the shore and sometimes floating by as stealth and silent as they were formed. Wind gusts change the tune some days. Wind so violent that they blur the Internet and phone signals, shaking trees and tossing water many feet up the river bank. Below zero wind chill allows for remarkably quick building of ice formations, ice shelves and barriers. My boat is encompassed daily with ice up to twelve inches thick and in some parts of the shore over thirty feet in width. Water is one of the most powerful, natural commodities there is. Whether it's waves in the ocean or icebergs at the far ends of the earth, water in a liquid or solid state is quite impressive. Over time it washes away stone and forms caverns, and quickly it transforms to deadly, sharp ice that can tear through the metal hull of a ship. I dig and pry, hammer and heat to try freeing the craft from a death hold of some hydrogen and oxygen bonded together.
After a week of relentless freezing and attempts to dislodge the boat, I decided to move her off the ice and now she sits afloat a few yards from the bank. Sheets of newly formed frozen slush that couldn't cling to any one side of the river, discarded and rejected by the source, they are drifting on down, broken and battered by the rapids below never amounting to anything.

One of the worst things happened the other evening. It's four degrees, breezy and the sun is setting. I had been in all day and staying quite busy, had a fire going and was quickly roasting out. I slimmed down to shorts and my shoes, no shirt or hat. I had to go fetch water, which was just fine and even intended for a cool off but when I came back to the cabin, the latch on the door had somehow twisted out of place and locked permanently. No knife or lighter, no tools of any kind were in my shorts and at first, I thought I would just knock on the door as if someone would answer. There isn't anything to read into that notion of a companion, but I never had thought someone was with me before this moment, no matter how over stacked the wood I was carrying in, or the trouble I find myself in when getting the snow machine stuck. I don't know what I was thinking, but I guess I wasn't thinking. I grabbed a file and punctured a hole in the plexiglass to unlatch the handle and enter. I often think of scenarios when and if I fall in the water or through the ice. Never does that end well and I don't know how long you can function before the elements really take over, hypothermia and all. Not long. Standing outside perfectly dry and feeling the the piercing breeze through tender skin is how the thought came about.
Duct tape is the new addition to my front door, a small hole and a comical moment will forever mark this little cabin. And I am most definitely alone.

There are Christmas songs playing on the radio, having started just after the last forks from Thanksgiving dinners were washed and the promotion of shopping was overwhelming in my inbox. Emails for saving hundreds, by spending hundreds on things I don't need or have a want for. Up here I really don't want for much. I really don't need anything I don't have and most things I think of people buying are non essential for sustaining life. They may be fun, but that hardly impresses upon me the need to spend what I don't have.
I must conclude that " Black Friday" is indeed very dark.

     December is nearly here. A time when people expect and desire winter white to blanket the ground. It softens the calm life I live, dampens what little noise there is and purifies the land by hiding all deformities, traces of mankind and wipes the slate clean for a time. Not a shrew nor moose goes undetected in the meadows, not a falling cranberry or pine needle is without guilt in disturbing the pureness of white. I really enjoy new snow. I would hope for some soon, as I've done quite the job in ruining what is around. I could use a clean slate and a fresh start.

Little Pasture

Walking along the frozen banks of Lake Nerka and River Bay, was filled with nervous anticipation. A Spruce Grouse flies off in a panic just several feet away and makes every hair on the back of my neck stand up. It's time for the bears of Tikchik State Park to ascend into the mountains and start a very long hibernation, and also make any last minute kills, trying to suppress an insatiable appetite. I however, am by no means willing to be such an offering, so being alert and easily startled is acceptable, where as screaming like a little girl and paralyzed by fear is not.
Luckily on this small hike there were no bears or moose or fox or any other worth while animal to see except an occasional bird or two. I once was flying in Katmai National Park and upon our descent, we came right over a bear that had been grazing or doing something, but whatever it was he preferred peace over our presence. He started off in a full out sprint and I thought wow, a bear that weighs a thousand pounds running thirty miles an hour over rugged tundra. There isn't a chance I'd have if put in harms way. I've also seen first hand the power of ripping flesh from dead animals and the bone crushing jaws at work from these massive bears. I don't believe that my little legs jammed inside the bear's mouth would present any challenge and that I'd soon be another fallen victim to nature. Being out on this open plain really felt alarming, should any bear show itself and pursue me with intent. I was constantly looking at trees, the size of their limbs to hold my weight and whether or not I'd be able to get there. Jumping in the lake, should luck allow me to get there in time would only result in hypothermia and I'd wash ashore soon enough just to be picked up by the bear anyhow. So, as it would seem, the only option was to be loud with my yelling and trying to present it in the most menacing of ways. It sure is  silly to be out here doing all that, but it's a precaution and a safety measure.

I have yet to see one bear this year, and if I don't see one soon, I think my chances are near over for a sighting or encounter. That will be the first time in the last 5 years of not seeing one of these amazing animals up close. I won't be baiting any, but I'd like to have one come around, even if it's a little one that doesn't look too mean.

For six weeks, I've been without winter and finally we have snow. I opened my eyes and noticed a dull light, more reflective than direct and thought, has it snowed? No sooner did I look out the window but I saw almost six inches of fresh powder blown all around forming drifts and barren areas but none the less it was snow and mostly covering the landscape. A much welcomed change in scenery and a feeling that there is progress in being here, if not for something to do, but just for something different to look upon.
Today the snow would most likely accumulate quickly if the wind were to ever let it settle. Sideways as linear as it could possibly be, seemingly unaffected by gravity. That's just some strong wind, but it's snowing again and I like it. Hard to say how much there is, not but a few inches of fresh, a few spots of the old and a really great day to be inside drinking tea and writing about it.

     There are some really enjoyable moments up here to sit and think. One of which is the time when the power is off. I make some tea and sit in front of the fire with my book and after each chapter I sit there for sometimes hours just staring into the fire and getting lost in thought. There are times when the ideas I entertain are serious and need working out, others are for fun and imaginative. I like the latter more so because it's nice to envision being on some tropical island with fresh produce and an open sea to fish. The funny thing is that I'd sit on the beach for hours staring into the ocean or the horizon and dream of being next to a fire in a cabin with tea and a river to fish.
Some days I'll just go out and fish and the other day I did just that for my fox friend. I was hoping to get him a nice char for supper and so I did, but hours of calling for him, he never showed. I kept the fish in my net on the woodpile outside and later that evening when I was putting the generator in, I noticed that he had stolen his own fish. Maybe he only stole my enjoyment of giving it to him, but never the less he got his char and I suppose was pleased.

A really calm and sunny day allowed for a nice hike up the mountain. I wasn't sure how it would go with snow, but to my amazement I only slipped every other step instead of every single one.
It was worth the constant falling and sliding and two hours of realizing my out of shape heart needed this exercise. Once at the summit, I quickly put my sweater back on and gloves and bundled up. Snapped a few photos and headed back down. I am not one to look at a mountain and say, I'd like to climb that. I particularly like mountains with snow on them and that further deters my inclination to climb them.

The days pass and I keep myself busy enough with the small things like baking some banana bread or making kindling for fires. Occasionally if I get too rowdy, I'll practice throwing my knife at the wood stack. Soon there will be some shoveling and snow removal from areas around the lodge, so I might rest better at night with some good hard work during the day.

A Mink & Me

The tedious sport of stacking wood is an ongoing chore that will no doubt keep my hands busy from here on out. On the really windy days, it shakes my stack of wood to the point that it shifts and needs constant adjusting, or I risk a collapse.
Today was 38 inside, a new low for an internal cabin temperature but quite comfortable while sleeping. Rising to put on frozen clothing is entirely another ordeal. Boiling water cools in minutes, and the enjoyment of a cup of tea is about a five minute occasion. One of my furry friends came around to see me, the mink. Cute little guy and curious, but not nearly as domestic towards me as the last time I saw him. I also remember the ongoing battle between the fox and him, so perhaps I won't have the pleasure of a mink's company all that often.
Speaking of the fox, he has some of the most strange behavior patterns. He will come up behind me and often startle my nerves and then gets spooked off because he spooked me. I try to coax him back, or close to with some fish or what meat I have on hand, but always end up tossing it in his direction. He needs to stop sneaking up on me and causing such a stir, then I might gain his trust and be able to react without a suspicious, threatening jump.

The sunsets as of lately have been amazing! Pictures are so cruel to reality and the injustice is hardly tolerable. It makes taking a picture of such wonder hardly worth it in the end due to the frustration of not capturing the entire moment.
Never the less, the wind storms bring elongated cloud formations, stretching and pulling in ways that I've only seen up North. It may help to have the sun staying very low in the sky and really dragging the color over a much wider surface of sky. It might just be the way the sun chooses to set and I am grateful to see such beautiful sights.

What kind of day is it when the fish that are biting are too large to keep? I had a particularly good day of fishing this past week and to my surprise, many of the first ones caught were too large. A beautiful  trout, at twenty five inches and full of fight really had me on the edge of fear. The sun was plenty up, crossing over Jack Knife mountain and shining without any hindrance or obstruction. Perfect blue sky all around and absolutely freezing wind blasting my face. My fingers were very cold as well, but at least they were seeing some action from reeling in fish and snapping photos. As the tugging and running out of line persisted, the build up of ice on the rod eyelets was becoming a concern. I could feel the jerking motion of the line that was usually smooth as it was getting stuck on the tip of the rod. There were a few times where risking the loss of an uncertain sized, but large feeling fish were worth taking to plunge the rod into the water so as to melt the ice and hope that the lack of tension would not allow this fish being caught to free itself and conquer the fish catcher.
On the last ditch effort to run, the fish took what line he could, I reeled in what I could and the line froze to a near solid and problematic state. I did what was necessary and just walked backwards until I was standing nearly ten yards from the waters edge, dragging the fish up on shore and quickly running down to retrieve the size and photo.
Although catching large fish is fun, it is wasting precious time in the elements and I would rather get my small fish and get back inside to thaw out the frozen extremities.
     A few outings all together and I accumulated a nice mess of fish to fillet and smoke. The largest in the group was about 19 inches, a pair of them to be exact. They were caught back to back, two casts, two fish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

November is here and one month down. Most days feel like weeks and weeks like months, so it's not much of a surprise that I feel like three or four months have passed. I often wonder what everyone else is doing to pass their days, keeping busy no doubt and it seems to fly by for most.... Not up here. I suppose the thought of yet another holiday season is a bit overwhelming to some and welcoming to others. I especially like the holiday season up here, not too many lines to wait in, grumpy people to argue with or screaming children I pretend not to hear. Oh the holiday spirit.

I for one will miss a few things, but none of those mentioned above. I'll continue to fish and build fires and have my tea, read and do my job of taking care of a cabin for one.