You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch...

Christmas came early for my cabin this year and instead of a jolly fellow, this little beast showed up.
It all started with a long overdue snowfall that brought a few good inches of winter my way. I wanted to run the snow machine, as I hadn't been able to for a few weeks now. This truly does seem to be the most tame winter so far… given the fact it just began yesterday. Well, I was right behind my cabin on a hill, when this waddling creature made his way right in front of me. Mostly covered in snow at the moment and headed away from me, I really wasn't sure what to make of it at first and whether or not to run or chase had my mind pin balling the ideas while still trying to figure out what it was. Well it didn't take that long before I realized it wasn't a wolverine or a beaver but instead it was just a large, the largest I've ever seen, porcupine.
I wanted quills but not bad enough to crawl under the cabin and do what all the dogs and foxes and other curious animals do, get poked. I left him alone after a few pictures and he wandered off to do what porcupines do.

My fox friends are here, a big one and small one. I believe they know each other well enough to be courteous but not enough to share. One day, I was looking after the only one around at the time, the larger one when in suddenly took off. A few minutes later it returned with the small one and they both have taken turns guarding my front door ever since. I can't hardly go outside without one of them there, and if no one is on guard, I try to walk quietly to get water or to the freezer without having the hungry mouths come begging. I enjoy their company, watching them bicker and play around and how alert they are to the things I couldn't even begin to imagine hearing. I think that if a mouse sneezed across the river, they would stare for an hour trying to determine where their hunt would later take place.  Speaking of doomed mice, I am a trophy hunter for them now, with numbers climbing towards thirty. Another successful night of trapping had a nice, well fed mouse laying appropriately still on the little black plastic death pad that I call a great invention. Whether feeding the fox, a crow or magpie, a trout or whatever gets to the mice after I'm done doing the deed, I'm just very satisfied to have them out of the cabin and able to sleep quietly through the night.

I've made it past the shortest day of the year, the darkest but certainly not coldest. Yesterday it was in the low forty's and rather wet with rain and scattered sleet showers. The snow that was here, albeit not enough to bury my foot in, is now not enough to make a snowball. Christmas is in a few days and it was a nice treat to fatten myself up a little with some holiday cooking. I made cookies, just over four dozen for the month of december and within a week they were gone. The first few days I kept saying I'll freeze the rest as I nabbed one here and there, snacking away without a care. The last few days of my reckless, lack of self control gluttony were without a doubt the best. The cookies had a chance to absorb some moisture and become that prime, highly sought after, perfect cookie. There isn't any looking back and I'm not ashamed to have eaten all that butter and flour, because I just made another holiday snack and this time I went big.
Apple pie. Apple half pies. Although the pie wasn't anything to get excited about, it is safe to say I have a clean pie dish waiting for another baking inspiration to occur.

And finally another baking day happened with some delicious bread. I had wanted to make stuffing for thanksgiving but didn't have bread and decided not to hassle with it. After making this with the intention of stuffing, I ate a piece and then another and finally a third. I don't know which will happen, either stuffing or just eating sliced, buttered and salted, warm bread. Feeling guilty about all this indulgence won't really happen, but I do need to consider pacing myself. As you can see in the photos, these friends of mine are all to eager for sampling and they are not one to complain about anything that comes their way. Taking the pictures needed to be faster than their ability to dine and dash. Let the record state: They are quick.

Barely an example of not sharing well, the open mouths, one in the top left corner


Merry Christmas to everyone from the not so frozen and not so alone north -

Thanksgiving III

An even zero this morning at eleven a.m. and a high of eight by afternoon. The sunset last night was a pleasant sight for my dreary, white-washed sore eyes. Its been thick fog, low ceilings and cold all week, with the first good sign of a break this morning for Thanksgiving. The third year up here for turkey and pie is always a good milestone, third times a charm is often what people say. Duck was on the menu, not turkey or grouse, but a nice little canadian duck. No, I was not the hunter and yes it was from the store. As much as it pains me to say such a thing, I wasn't able to provide the sacrificial bird of my own accord. Nevertheless, it was a very nice change, a great, rich and robust flavor in the fat which made for a fantastic gravy. The meat itself was nothing to go on about but the gravy sure is. Pumpkin pie, quinoa and a few sprigs of fresh parsley from my window sill grown plants… A little color and good for one bite. I had made the pie last night, wanting it chilled after a discussion of which was better, warm or cold. So with that said, the smell was all to tempting and I had cut the first slice out before the duck had even seen the fires of an oven. I had to cut one more slice for dinner, and one more shortly before bed. After all, it is a celebration day, a holiday and a feasting day.
I won't be able to burn off the calories with all the rats in their race tomorrow while shopping, maybe a swim will do.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and hopefully it is a good start to the holiday season.

Running the Gamut

Temperatures have fluctuated more than 50 degrees recently, but a common theme these past few days would have to be just plain cold. Snow has fallen, melted, fallen and blown away time and again. Rain, wind, sun and then repeat is the theme. Ice has started to accumulate on the lake in coves and bays where there isn't enough movement and the lake ice begins. It will fluctuate a bit, forming and breaking, melting and growing but one of these days it will be here for good.
There are limited things to do around the property, and even more so for exercise, so swimming has been a nice change of pace. The water temperature is a steady 35, and it really isn't noticeable with the suit on, hood and gloves. The cold part is actually the time between taking the suit off and the shower. Either way, it is very peaceful to be floating out there, doing laps and drifting with the current. I can't say how much longer this will last, but I hope to continue while the temperatures are above zero, and will most likely find a few days a month to get out there all through the winter and into the spring.
There have been some absolutely beautiful moments up here with the sun rising at a lower angle, combined with low temperatures that make a nice fog and decent photos.
And the best part of all, the fox is back! I can't be sure its the same one as years past, being extra friendly and carefree, though how many tame foxes are there in the wild? I won't complain if its not the same one, at least its company. Here are some photos of the past week or more. I'm hoping to have a nice Thanksgiving up here in a week, and hoping that a fox will join me for the holiday feast. The menu should be close to the following- Duck (whole/roasted), Stuffing and Pumpkin Pie. I might add some yams or something else, but likely there will be too much food as it is, and more would be gluttony. We'll see.

Enjoy-

Someday never comes

A break in the rain was the warmest reception Alaska has had to offer in the past month, and only but three or four times. I wasn't afraid to take advantage of the calm, before another storm I might add and this time it would be snow. I spent a little time on the river, boating up and down while enjoying whole heartily a dry and bug free evening. A solid month of showers, flurries and or both has the river raging at its peak, generally spring time flow. The usual boulders and identifying landscape are submerged and all to elusive while the rapids have grown more intense and creating quite the echoing roar. I have had the enjoyment of riding the river in its full length a few times now, both for work and pleasure. During the last severe wind storm, I had lost all communications to what I had believed was due to natures uneasy temperament around this time of year. However it was a logistical error on someones part back in the big city to announce a switch over in modem frequency... needless to say I, along with a few dozen other remotely located people around the state were isolated further by this oversight. Nearly a week later, a rainy boat ride into Aleknagik, a nice drive into Dillingham, there at the airport sat a new modem for me and all would soon be well.
The time away from computers and phones was a short lived and exhausting little ordeal, going through the emotions of boredom, excitement and wonder, to boredom and deep boredom. I wonder what everyone did when we weren't so connected to the world, having someone a fingers touch away online and yet thousands of miles in between. I'm still at a loss for  words to explain those thoughts and feelings occurring last week.

A rare glimpse of my cabin in sunlight-

The saying is too true... "red sky in morning.... and its going to be one miserable sort of day"

I'm not ready for my surrounding to look like this for six months straight but I'll accept whatever happens. It was a nice change from rain, and it really brightened the cabin inside, something the sun refuses to do. I didn't have to shovel much, but on the side of caution, I made the necessary removals in areas that I keep cleared out in case this was the point of no return. Substantial rains followed and made a massive soupy mess of everything, and the lackluster of gray continues on.

At it again - The beginning

Waving goodbye and being peacefully alone was one of the most anticipated moments I had been waiting for all summer, as yet another autumn in Alaska begins. The rugged landscape changes little if any in form, only in color as the leaves become a lovely burnt red and deep, bright yellow. The leaves of color fall gently with a heavy frost in the stillness of morning and are scattered by the tens of thousands with a stiff wind. As quickly as the birch showed a fresh bud in spring, it has shed the foliage of a new season revealing a forest of tangled and naked sticks and twigs. Nearly eight months will pass before my scenery changes, though the color will make one final transition from the dull and bare greens and browns of the wooded surrounding, to a blinding and frigid white.

The thought that just  a short four months ago I was in this very chair, looking out over my little slice of paradise is a hard thing to grasp. Half of my mind believes that I never left while the other part knows full well I had a summer away, but excited to be here once more. It will take a few days to re-adjust to my home away from home, but I feel quite relaxed being only day two. The cabin is nearly complete with my usual equipment and provisions for the winter, with the exception of a few things I hope to build in the coming weeks.


The best first morning views -

Here's to an exciting new season in Bristol Bay with a promise of adventure and uncertainty. I feel quite ready to face the elements of weather and isolation, hoping that this winter will fly by as the last season did. I have a few bears around the cabin and plenty of spruce grouse in sight. Things are shaping up quite nicely.....

* Merry Christmas *

A particular comfort it is, sitting by the fire while the sun retires and night presses forth. At three in the afternoon, I sit by these glowing coals and stare at my furry fox friends who bare the temperatures with ease. Not a shiver or sign of chill have they shown despite being thirty below. Just the day before, out in what seemed the worst and minus twenty, I just needed to take advantage of the blue skies while they lasted. I am continually grooming the trails to the lower lake and only about half way through the woods. Constant defeat and agonizing labor to free the snow machine from holes it sinks into, getting stuck in powder and near cemented in, buried to the handles. I build ramps in front and dig away near the back to rock it free, and to my efforts, twenty feet further I find myself digging yet again. I do enjoy the mere fact of having something to do and although it is hard work, I can't shy away from it. After all, on the other side of these woods there is a village and a town with a grocery store should I choose to satisfy my most recent cravings.

Some days when the air is still, the trees covered in frost and not a noise is made in all the forest, I just sit watching and listening to absolutely nothing at all. On these especially cold days, there are many situations that can arise from nowhere and be quite surprising and consequential. Luckily I found out in time to spare a digit, but not without a stern warning. Frostbite. I understand why it is not called frost touch. Fortunately, I was done with chores outside and came in for the day, not realizing the condition of my fingers and it wasn't until the next day that I really knew the severity of the bite. Numb to the touch but throbbing inside. I have obtained just slight bite on the ears and fingers, and will be much more observant and tuned in to such pains from here on out.

My fox friend knew a good thing when he saw it and was reluctant to welcome another of his kind. What filled one mouth is now shared among two. Should a third venture this way, I may just cut them off cold turkey. I do have a soft spot for them. Curious, energetic and full of fight. They go at it and snarl, yelp and bark, attack each other, chasing and tackling and biting.... but they are both rewarded the same. I did manage a trout for the original one, the day before his companion showed up. Should they have had to fight for it, that would have been too much. They often sit outside my door in the day, come running in the waking hours of morning and come from who knows where in the night when closing the door. Each and every time I make a noise outside the cabin, they look with anticipation and often discontent when I close the door empty handed. Never failing, they are around in hopes of food.

How quickly the snow accumulates, two feet here and a foot there....  I do enjoy most things about a good hard snow fall and I can even enjoy the removal for a time, but those tiny snowflakes sure do become heavy and burdensome after too many hours. Who might have thought the soreness and aching in the muscles would be a result from the lightly falling crystals from above. Anyone who has held a shovel in hand would testify to their weight and not so innocent being. Yes they look harmless but that is simply not true. Another ten inches I woke to this very morning, and riding the trails again to maintain their existence and not make my previous labor in vain. When the wind whips across the snow fields, down from the mountain sides or across the lake, the trails in the open vanish in minutes. Constant packing and riding them will create a disruption to the aerodynamic flows, thus making faint distinctions between untouched powder traps and my trustworthy packed trail. When you spend as much time removing the snow as I do, you will understand the obsession with maintenance.

My frosty days are more frequent and the bitter cold more present as we near the beginning of official winter. Weeks pass like days and the only sign of time are tracks of myself and the animals around that tell the travels and business we have in this land. I judge a day by energy consumed and observe the quality by the amount of relaxation. Even work is relaxing in some instances. Bringing wood down for methodical stacking is quite cleansing to the mind and running the snow blower to push large amounts winter aside is pleasing to the body for the pain it defers. Even the tediousness of making kindling is pleasurable both for the honing of accuracy and for the product of the evening fire. I did miss one day and while perhaps too relaxed, I was slow to react. Nothing a bandage would not fix. All of these little wounds, misfortunes of falling in the river and slipping on ice add to the story of life up in the more wild parts of America.  I am careful, but even when crossing the t's and dotting i's, one can forget a period or two. I like to live my days with an exclamation mark.


Christmas is only one week away and soon January will be here. I know at the end of that month will be half way through and much to my amazement, I don't know where those days have gone. I have lived each one, some more painful than others but I do wonder how this has gone by so quickly. I do believe that the whole month of October was an adjustment time, not knowing just how to prepare mentally for the upcoming months. November was settling in nicely and was over before it began really and now December is snow and soon Christmas. Maybe the new year will bring new feelings of time and it will seem more drawn out. As the months are now, I agonize over the loss of each moment that mimics and resembles the next. Losing those moments and subsequently time from a lack of differentiating between the two. Likewise for days and weeks, painfully savoring but a memory from what could have held a dozen. It is safe to say each day that presents a new task or chore or irregularity is often welcomed, cherished to some degree and is the only variety or spice in my life. Those little things that switch up routine make all the difference in my world.

Christmas for everyone down south, I wish you all a very merry season with each other, a great time to be among those you care for and celebrate in true form the reason for this holiday. For all who endure the lines, in grocery stores and gas stations, I hope there is plenty of patience and tranquility to go around. I will celebrate with a nice dinner for myself and prepare something tasty for my fox friends. I think of you all often,

Questions

 

 

 

 

The meaning of adventure to one person can be vastly different to another. I have heard it said, adventure is when things go wrong but until then, it is your plan.
Here in the twenty first century, I live close to a hundred years ago. Limited energy sources, no running water and I'm dependent on the respect given to nature. If you love something, you take care of it. I do love nature, but the idea of nature is something we have created. People for centuries lived in desolate places on earth, remote, self sustaining, and it wasn't that long ago when people were living as I presently find myself. That was their life. Nature to them was the unknown, the great Louisiana territory of the 1800's, the America's in the late 1400's. In today's world, people have closed themselves off to their roots in the earth's soil, they trade simplicity for complexity. Many people haven't the slightest ideas on how to provide for themselves, or steward the resources of their land which can provide. Concrete prisons are created in high rise fashion surrounded by thousands of others who think nature is walking in the park and sitting on the lawn for a picnic. That was a luxury for most back then, not nature today.
People couldn't conceive preserving wild forest lands and "nature", their very lives were lived there and so what exactly were they to preserve? Life?

The northern lands of this world must be relatively the same, differing in mountain ranges and water systems, but equally beautiful as to where I sit. One could say I was in Norway or Sweden, Newfoundland or Alaska, and I wouldn't know it. There are no mapped out boundary lines or degrees of latitude that define the earth's beauty. When you are on an adventure, a life altering experience, questions arise that wouldn't have come any other way. Questions you didn't even know you had, and some that you didn't know existed. Often there are more questions than answers, but when an answer hits you, it's that light bulb moment. Everything of concern is erased, all the random wheels stop turning. There is often an empty feeling, as if the only thing in your mind was the question and now the answer. It is overwhelming. Why must they be so personal though? Often the epiphany isn't understood, shared or conceived by others, and it isn't like you have just solved one of the world's dilemma's but instead there is only personal growth in that understanding.
I believe when someone has their heart set on something, change only comes within. The outward appearance can vary in direction, manipulate the minds of others and be a great deception but what lies within oneself, is the only true north. To that, they will live and breathe for. If you love something you take care of it.
So the passion that drives someone, the loves they have and the desire to care for them, is that not what we are to pursue? Who makes the call on what is a worthy passion and love and to whom does it belong? Are we of the mindset "individualism" in life or is there a relationship to community? To each their own? Probably not.
What might the world become if everyone examined and explored themselves through solitude, or is that idea flawed as well?

The winds are relentlessly testing the structural integrity of my cabin, and the trust I have in the builder is with my life.  I try to sleep through the great howling noise and violent shaking of the supposed solid walls. Each morning I awake one more time, not knowing how close I came to a tree coming down on the roof or if the cabin was lifted from the foundation. That is probably a good stretch to say, however there is much unknown when I sleep so long.
I received a call about weather rolling in. A warning as it were, the recommendation to be prepared for a severe weather front. The only good thing about the change is the warmth. Going from fifteen below to twenty above is most welcome and even if snow accumulates to feet, I'll have fun with it.

The ice picture above was just amazing to see. Cracks on the frozen lake bend and twist to create these colorful patterns and mesmerizing images, if you stare at them too long.
Should I be lucky enough for new snow, two feet or more, I'll be out grooming trails and shoveling to no end. I do miss the sights of a proper winter and blustering, snowy days. The warmth of my cabin and the window I stare out of is all the comfort I need but there isn't any sense in settling there, so warm cookies and tea lighten the mood even more. I wish I could give thirty minutes to every soul that wanted it this very moment.

With Christmas around the corner, time does fly by when you're having fun. Hard times do present themselves, challenging and perplexing as they can be, putting your left foot in front of the right usually overcomes any obstacle. I took my boat out of the river for the time being. There was too much effort in the upkeep, so it sits on land waiting for better conditions.

Fishing, oh that wonderful and frustrating past time. I continue to bring in the large rainbows but unfortunately I am wanting char to feed the fox. Not a hint of complaint in there, only fact.