Hello all,
Allow me to give a brief geology lesson on Alaska’s interior mountain ranges. I have been doing a bit of flying on my trips out to villages as you are well aware. Most of the mountains I have flown over (next to, lower than, between, AT ……..) seem to be just rocky hills rising suddenly and are only a few thousand feet in height. I kept thinking these were just the foothills of the Brooks Range, the north side of which is known as the North Slope. I have since found out that there are two major mountain ranges in Alaska’s interior. These consist of the Alaska Range which lies north of Anchorage and well south of here, and the Brooks Range that I just mentioned which lies north of here.
The Alaska Range is made up of very tall jagged mountains, its snowcapped peaks soaring into the sky. The highest of these rising to over 20,000 feet is Mt McKinley (the white mans name), or Denali (the Native American name). This range is considered a young range although I am not capable of quoting their age. The Brooks Range is much, much, older with time and the harsh elements having had a greater span of centuries to wear down its sharp spires. So the rounded rocky hills I thought of as foot hills are actually part of the Brooks Range. They are however beautiful in their own right. The snow is completely gone now and these mountains are almost completely barren rock piles with most of them gently rounded on top. They are seemingly haphazardly placed here and there sometimes with a number of them clustered together and at other times rising singly out of the green tundra as if dropped there by a disinterested child. The tallest of these rises to only six to eight thousand feet.
I flew out Tuesday July 27th on the supposedly 8am flight. Of course after a couple of weeks of warm, clear skies it was rainy with low clouds that morning. I could hear the staff discussing the visibility while basing their decisions to fly or not on precise measurements (looking out the door to see if they could see the airfield). Needless to say my 8am flight taxied out at around 9am. Being the only passenger I figured we would be in the small single engine plane again but the pilot led me to the twin engine 8 passenger model. When I commented on this he responded the weather was too bad for the little one. All the seats were removed from the left side of the plane and there was cargo strapped from floor to ceiling. Of course I sat on the right side and I guess they figured my weight would balance the load. At least this time the cargo wasn’t behind me so if we went down, I would just be crushed from the front, not both front and back. Gee, what a load off my mind. As we sat there the pilot did his preflight. Then he did his preflight again…….and again, and again. In-between each check he was looking at a set of papers. He had me wondering if he had ever flown this type of plane before. We finally taxied out for take off and he revved the engines. We were rolling down the runway when he suddenly hit the brakes and turned off. Ok, what now? He played with his door a bit then after another 8-10 minutes, we taxied out again. This time we made it off the ground into the bumpiest air I have yet experienced. The plane was rolling side to side and bumping up and down. We climbed to just below the clouds which was only about 700 feet and bumped our way across the sound. We then followed the Noatak River inland. About this time I started taking stock. First, he did not seem like he was familiar with the plane. Second, he kept looking at those papers and doing repeated preflights. Third, he aborted his first takeoff. Fourth, this is the first small plane I have been in up here that did not have a dash mounted color GPS map. Fifth, I was wondering why the he... I did not tell him to let me out before we left the ground! We have been instructed by our supervisors and even the state that if we are uncomfortable about anything, refuse to fly.
After about 20 minutes the visibility was decreasing rapidly and now in addition to the bumping and rolling the pilot began banking turns left and right. This went on for a while then he turned completely around heading in the other direction. Thank goodness I have never been airsick and I certainly missed the perfect opportunity on this trip. Finally I had had enough and hollered out loud enough to be heard over the engines and through his ear phones and asked him what was going on and were we headed back. He responded no, we’re not headed back, there are mountains all around (as if I couldn’t see this) and he was looking for a way through them. I figured we had to land somewhere eventually and we had to find our way out of this maze so I shut up and let him concentrate. After all, it’s his butt too. After about 10 more minutes of this we came out over the sea, turned up the coast, and continued on our undulating way.
I used to be really afraid of flying and in the past I would hold my wife’s hand tightly. That’s right; this bear of a guy was scared of flying even though planes and jets have always fascinated me. I just refused to let it stop me from flying and gradually I became accustomed to it. Now it’s pretty much second nature to me, especially when you consider that (most) Alaska pilots have to be among the best in the world. So I can honestly say that while I was concerned, I was not scared. I was mainly just calling myself an idiot for not following my instincts and getting off the plane before takeoff. I am actually physically and mentally more comfortable in even the smallest plane here than the big jets. One thing I may not have mentioned in the past is that the planes we fly in are all part of privately owned airlines here in the bush. In Kotzebue there are four private carriers that operate a number of small planes, all prop driven, of different sizes from three passenger models to about 12 passenger models. All carry cargo as well as passengers including the smaller planes. I have been amazed at the places on these planes that open and can hold cargo. These planes are the way the villages get their mail, groceries, medicines........almost everything. Of course of the four carriers some are bigger and better. All have regularly scheduled flights to all the villages at different times of the day. Depending on what we have to do and what times are convenient to us we choose the carrier with the times that best suit our needs. This carrier was number three on my choice list but it had the best times for what I had to do. This is the third time I have been scheduled to fly with them with the first two being canceled first by a snowstorm, then second by fog.
While flying along the coast we passed two buildings tremendous in not only size but length. They were painted in red and white stripes with a blue field on the left that had the Alaska state flag containing the big dipper in the center. There was a dock on the water, barges and tugs in the sea, and a long ribbon of road leading off into the distance. This is the storage and port facility for the Red Dog mine, the worlds largest zinc mine where they also mine lead. Mining goes on all year round and the ore is stored until breakup then the ore is transported out by sea. The road leads over 50 miles inland and is traversed by those huge trucks you see on Modern Marvels carrying ore.
Needless to say since I am typing this we made it safely to the village. We finally came upon the spit of land upon which the village sat, cut off from the mainland by water running off of the tundra. He dropped the wheels making the ride that much rougher, made a u-turn, and surprisingly made a smooth landing. All that worrying about my life insurance being paid up for nothing. The airfield like in all the villages was gravel with this one being sandwiched between the sea and a body of water toward the land side. At edge of the field was an old four engine 1950’s vintage plane that had obviously landed here and never left for some reason. It has of course been cannibalized but I would have liked to have gone in it and looked around. Towards town at the end of the field was an arch of whale ribs with a harpoon leaning against it. It sat in the middle of where the black sand forked, forming the two streets that run through town. It was still raining when we arrived and my bags were thrown in the back of a pickup soaking up as much water as they could. (Note to self: spray bags with waterproofing {which I’ll probably get around to it after freeze-up when the snow doesn’t melt and I don’t have to worry about it anymore.}) The houses were close together and in three rows down the peninsula with the aforementioned washboard sand road between them. These houses were the most weather beaten I have seen and most were in disrepair. I found out later that most do not have running water due to the expense. There has been plenty of discussion in recent years about moving the village due to erosion. Of course with the cost of the many environmental studies done, the village could have been moved probably ten times. The people in this village of a little over 400 souls however were friendly enough. This has been my experience in all the villages I have been to, especially with the kids. All the people I passed would at the least wave.
The clinic was worn on the outside and inside with a number of panes of broken glass. I was shown to one of the only two exam rooms in the clinic where I would do my immunizations. It was also the trauma room and my bedroom for the night. It was as clean as it could be under the circumstances as an older lady was constantly sweeping and mopping in a loosing battle with the black sand. There were only two sinks in the clinic (with no hot water of course), one in one exam room, and the other in a room in the middle of the clinic. This room served as the cleaning supply storage room, mop and broom room, and with it’s five gallon bucket with seat, the bathroom. It was 10am and I was told there were toilets and showers in the laundry just on the other side of the storage tank in front of the clinic but it was only open from noon to six pm. I was wondering if I could get my bowels on a time schedule in that short a time as I looked at the bucket.
The day went by fast as one kid after the other left me crying-legalized child abuse that I am licensed to perform. Five thirty I got out of the clinic with plans on using the facility at the laundry. Both shower rooms were occupied so I walked to the store. There the folks asked first if I was a nurse then with the same breath asked if I bought native art. How do they know? Dang, must be my cologne that gives me away. I made it back to the laundry in time but there was no tissue paper (or any kind of paper for that matter). I walked back to the clinic dejectedly facing the prospect of “The Bucket”. Alright, so I’m getting set in my ways, so what? (Grouchy too)
I watched TV for a while (6 cable stations) with only one interruption to see if I wanted to buy a hand made doll complete with ivory face and a hand sewn fur outfit. Then after a partial meal of military MRE’s and being tired from a full day, I opened both windows in my “bedroom” around nine pm and tried to sleep. Around nine thirty an eight year old girl I had previously taken care of in an emergency in Kotzebue came to the window with a couple of friends and called my name. She wanted to come in with her friends and visit. I declined and explained I had been up since six am and had had a full day.
Now I know what a few of you perverts are thinking but that was not the case. This is not uncommon because one, being daylight for 24 hours a day right now the kids do not go to bed at night. Outside of our apartment in Kotzebue there is a public basketball court and every night there are kids playing there until around 7AM. Two, because their parents were not taught parenting due to the fact that years ago as I mentioned in a previous email, the kids were sent south to boarding school for years. Their exposure to parenting was limited and it is reflected in the lack of supervision now. The young kids crave attention. I think it was Patty who told me that a poll that had gone out a while back came back with the parents complaining that the kids did not have enough to do, and the kids complaining their parents did not spend enough time with them. Then factor in alcohol………… When I walk around in the villages eventually one or more kids will approach and ask my name and what I do. Almost every child lifts my name tag and attempts to read it. I try to spend a bit of time with each encouraging them about school and other things. These are the moments I truly enjoy and will cherish.
The second day began with what my parents used to call a cat bath using a washcloth, soap, and cold water, doing the best I could to get clean. The day went by quickly after a lunch of spam on crackers and bottled water. I almost got away without buying any art when a man came in with a two and a half foot piece of whale bone that had five faces and a whale carved into it. All had eyes made of either ivory or baleen and the carver stated it was a depiction of a successful whaling crew. I am always on the lookout for something unique and I figured it would look real good on my mantle in Anchorage. He lightened my wallet by $175.00, down from the asking price of $200. I guess I should mention that although we have a lot of art work, none of it is inexpensive. It is all hand made locally with skills not learned in schools. Most of the materials are harvested from the land and each piece is usually so intricate you can see the time that was spent in its creation. Each piece is unique with most having the artists’ signature on it. They are to me truly timeless works from an ancient culture that may one day disappear. If you tried to buy these same works anywhere else, even someplace as close as Anchorage, it would cost a great deal more and mean a great deal less.
That afternoon I called the airline agent in town to inquire about when the plane was coming in and he stated “in 15 minutes”. This was at 3:45 with the flight scheduled to leave at 4:40! I almost missed my plane (my shower, my toilet, my bed, oh, uh, and my wife). This time it was the little single engine job with what I recognized as the owner flying it. The village representative that had given me the ride asked him why he was flying to which he replied “I’m out of pilots”. I did not get into the copilot’s seat this time as the pilot wasn’t small either. I sat in the rear of this three passenger job and comfortably sat back with my camera ready. It was sunny with a few clouds this time making for a smooth flight along the coast. We passed the same terminal on the way back and just after passing it we turned inland. He was again flying at the height of or lower than the mountains which were seemingly just a few hundred yards outside the left hand windows. I did get some good views though (and pictures) and enjoyed the flight. This time on flying over the sound I could see down into the water and make out the channels and sandbars. After a pass over town and the familiar u-turn we touched down in Kotzebue. A smooth touchdown but………… the plane yawed to the right, then to the left, then back right again then finally it straightened out. I figured that with the cargo and I in the back, the front wheel did not have enough traction because of lead in the butt syndrome. After stopping however, the pilot apologized about the landing because the front wheel had stuck and would not turn until it broke free. SAFE at last and I don’t plan on flying with them again anytime soon (I hope).
Instead of stopping here I want to mention one other thing. Today at work we had a training session via phone and computer. There is a picture of each of us in the class and we can raise our hands, dialog with everyone or just one person, and perform a number of other tasks, all by computer. The entire state is over twice the size of Texas but has the population of just one good size city. With budget cuts the way they are and the advancements in technology it is just not cost effective to fly everyone to a central location for training or meetings as they did in the past (much to the chagrin of the older hands who got to travel free). We also have meetings this way with folks from all over the state and /or region.
That’s enough for now (my hands are cramping). Sounds of cheering and applause abounds.
Hope all is well,
Carlo
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Last updated:
08/29/05