Hello all,
I suppose you've had enough of a break by now so you're ready and eager for
me to crank out a few more words right? Right? RIGHT?!
Again we have been a bit busy as of late. This is one of the best times of
the year here to get out and do things. The land and sea are covered with a
layer of ice and snow making it possible to travel great distances and the
weather is warming to a point where it is at the least tolerable, and at the
best, comfortable. The fish are moving closer to town and the caribou are just
outside of town. While you folks down south are packing your snow skis and
dreaming of next winter in Colorado or sweating as you cut the grass, we are
just getting out and really enjoying the winter sports.
I mentioned the basketball contests last month and folks coming from all
around to watch the games. There were a group of folks that rode to Kotzebue
from Barrow on snowmachines for the games. They were on the trail for somewhere
around a week and had to cross the Brooks Range to get here. We are talking not
only about traveling hundreds of miles across the wildest terrain and mountains
in the country, but also a land that harbors the largest carnivores in the
world. I can’t' say if those intrepid souls are incredibly brave, incredibly
stupid, or even who knows, maybe just incredibly bored. I don't believe a more
dedicated bunch of basketball fans exist anywhere else in the world. I will
never in my life be that brave or adventurous.
The temps had warmed up into the teens above zero for a good part of March.
The last Saturday of March we grabbed our two snowmachines and our sled and met
up with about 12 other machines and sleds at the boys and girls club here in
town. They had a cross country ski outing planned and needed volunteers. At the
club they loaded up a factory built sled with skis, poles, and boots, and
everyone else loaded tarps, extra fuel, food, and kids, onto their handmade
Eskimo basket sleds. We set out straight across the sound following a marked
trail in our very own arctic convoy. Quite a bit of fluffy snow had fallen the
day before and for once the trail was as smooth as could be. We crossed the 8
miles of open ice and started up into the foothills of the Brooks Range into an
area that lies within the boundaries of Cape Krusenstern National Park. We
passed camps here and there along the way and were treated to a sight we rarely
see-trees. We traveled a few miles inland before cutting off the trail and up
onto a ridge where the day before a couple of volunteers had set up a camp
complete with a tent and a fire hole. They had even deposited some cut up
pallets to use as firewood. (Pallets are frequently used as fire wood here first
because there are no trees on our side of the sound and second, because all
cargo comes in on pallets and it's not cost effective to fly them back.)
With the help of the now snow covered kids (from riding in the sleds)
everything was quickly unloaded. The factory sled was turned over for use as a
table and with the help of a cranky old Coleman stove, water was set to boil for
hot chocolate, coffee, and hot dogs. The director of the club and a National
Park Service Ranger that had accompanied us, along with a couple of teachers,
instructed the kids on the use of the skis and about staying together in a
group. The kids had a ball taking off on different trails that had been
previously packed down by one of the staff repeatedly riding his snowmachine
over the once pristine snow.
The snow where the camp was set up was soft on top and we sunk up to mid
calf when we stepped off our machines. It is good exercise though believe me. A
few souls who had haphazardly ventured out further from the camp sunk up to
their waists in the snow. We also quickly learned not to walk to close to trees
as the snow was always a lot softer there and inevitably we sank when succumbing
to the temptation of getting a whiff of fresh pine scent.
I realized just how deep the snow was as the fire worked its way downward
in the ice. Yes, it is possible to build a fire on snow. They had dug a pit
about two feet deep the day before and starting the fire was just like starting
one anywhere else. We just used some paper and kindling to get it going. No, it
did not melt the snow into water that then extinguished the fire. I suppose that
as the snow melted it just evaporated from the bottom and the sides just kind of
glazed over. The fire acted just like fires are supposed to act. As the day wore
on and the fire burned its way deeper Joe, our lead flight paramedic, took a
shovel and cut a step into the snow around the hole enabling folks to sit
comfortably by the fire. As the fire continued on its journey seemingly to the
center of the earth, we became concerned about kids falling into the now almost
8 foot deep hole. At that depth we could now see willow branches sticking out
of the sides of the hole cluing us into the fact that the fire had finally
reached mother earth. We then built a barrier with the remaining wood to keep
the kids from falling into the now gaping pit.
Everyone had fun and the kids made a couple of forays out in between
gulping hot chocolate, cookies, and hot dogs. A couple of the volunteers even
hooked a rope to the back of one of their snowmachines and started towing each
other around on skis. Kinda reminds me of summers back
home....................... Naw.
Sitting beside the fire watching the goings on, seeing the sun reflecting
off the landscape and the snow covered hills, and just being surrounded by
trees, brought on an awesome feeling of contentment and happiness. Kids are kids
no matter where you go and to watch the smiles on all their faces brought enough
warmth to see us through the day. Some time during the day one kid began to
make barking noises in the back of his throat sounding like just a seal and the
other kids, boys and girls alike, joined in. This continued off and on for the
rest of the afternoon. All the non-local adults just looked at each other and
asked how in the world were they were making that sound, to which one native
replied, "it's cute at first but when you have to listen to that for
hours...................".
We loaded up about 4 pm for the trip back. I suppose I will eventually get
used to the site of kids piling into sleds and wrapping themselves up in tarps
like they were going for a Sunday drive and it was the most natural thing in the
world. The trail back was a lot more packed down by now and a bit bumpier but
we all made it safely back to the club. There the kids unwrapped from their
cocoons, some of them covered head to toe in snow, all smiling and none the
worse for the wear.
One thing I will say is this trip made me order snowshoes and poles to
carry when we travel the backcountry. Snowmachines usually glide gracefully
over deep powder because they have a wide footprint. But, in all that powder
getting stuck is always a possibility. Then you can find yourself in waist deep
snow when you step off the machine to rescue it and in turn find yourself
needing rescue.
The following weekend Christy and Mike flew in for a one week visit
arriving at 7:30am Saturday. We planned on them coming in this week because
there was a big snowmachine race that Saturday and a big sled dog race the
following Thursday. Last year the temps were right around freezing or a bit
above and it was quite comfortable out. When they landed that morning the temp
was 22 below zero! Patty and I along with Cathy and Gary rode our snowmachines
to the airport to pick them up. Fortunately Cathy had remembered to bring their
sled along for the luggage. We doubled up on the machines and carried them to
the apartment to drop off their luggage and get more clothes (it was in the 40's
when they left Anchorage). We all then went out to eat at the one restaurant in
town that serves breakfast.
After the meal we went home and bundled up, hooked up our sled that has all
our fishing gear, our auger, and some of our survival gear always on it, and
headed to the fire department to stage for the snowmachine race. We hooked up
the emergency sled complete with spine board and other medical equipment behind
Gary's machine and headed for a point about 6 miles out on the sound. The race
was due to start at 11am but was pushed back to noon. We headed out around 11am
and by 11:45 we had some holes drilled and had settled down to some serious
fishing as we awaited the race. On the ride out we passed one truck that had
driven out on the sound by town to watch the race, and another further out that
had tracks in place of the tires. It was 16 below when we got out there with a
15 mph wind blowing. Noon came and went with no signs of activity from town and
were we where, we out of range the range of our fire department radio. At the
start of the races there is always at least two planes flying with EMT's aboard
and we can relay radio messages then if there is an emergency. We lasted in the
30-40 below zero wind chill until almost one pm then decided to head back in.
When we got to town there wasn't a machine in sight and we found out the race
had been postponed until 3pm. We had had enough however and called it a day.
Christy and Mike went out on snowmachines everyday they were here except
one. By Wednesday the temps were creeping back above zero. Thursday Patty and I
took off a half day and we all went out for the start of the Kobuk 440 dog sled
race. Musher’s come from all over the state to compete in the 440 mile race
that passes through a number of our villages. There were about 20 teams racing
which made for a combined total of around 250-300 excited dogs lined up at the
start, all barking at once. At the Iditarod they start the racers one at a time
at I believe 5 minute intervals. With this race they all go at once. A lot of
folks from town were in attendance on the ice because the 12:30 start time
allowed folks to come out on their lunch break. Most of the kids from the school
were there also, having walked single file behind their teachers from the school
out onto the ice to the race starting line.
The start was interesting but brief. It was quite a sight to watch all
those excited barking dogs taking off at once and pulling for all their worth as
their musher’s jockeyed for position. Eventually they all fell into single file
as they headed out of town on the trail with an expectation of finishing up
Saturday or Sunday back here in Kotzebue.
Since we had taken the evening off we all headed across the sound to the
mouth of the Noatak river where folks were again supposedly catching fish. Once
again the fish remained safe and we returned home after chalking up another fun
evening.
Cathy and Gary the evening before had ridden off the trails behind town and
had seen lots of caribou so when we arrived back from fishing that evening they
were preparing to head out to try to get one for the freezer. Christy and Mike
being young and on vacation, decided to accompany them. They didn't get a
caribou that evening but they had a lot of fun chasing them with the
snowmachines. The problem with riding off the trails on the tundra is that
without any visual reference it's easy to get lost. We made sure before they
left they had the GPS with fresh batteries and knew how to operate it. It's a
good thing too as Christy told us that when they were ready to come home Gary
turned to them and asked, "which way?"
Friday Mike and Christy ventured forth with some folks from work in another
failed attempt to catch fish. They did get to experience life here with folks
other than us. Not long after they got to their destination ice fog descended
so they once again got to use the GPS to get home. Patty was on the verge of
panic when they pulled up around 10pm (still daylight of course) all grinning
and full of new tales. (Let me mention here that the Inupaq word for daughter
is "panik". Just thought it was an appropriate place to mention it.)
Saturday we all decided to go out behind town to see the herds of caribou
and possibly bag one for the freezer. The six of us went out on three machines
with Cathy and Gary towing their sled behind. This is the first time that Patty
and I have really ventured off the well marked and packed trails. I get nervous
moving off the trails because I know how deep the snow can be. Cathy had taken
a picture on one of their rides of a smoke stack sticking about 12 inches out of
the snow. This was all that was visible of a camp that sits on Sadie Creek about
6 miles behind town. That snow had to be over 10 feet deep! I have this fear,
unfounded of course since I am so petite, of stepping off the machine and
becoming a future archeological find. I am glad we ventured out though. Once
again the beauty and vastness are beyond description. Riding on the pristine
powder undisturbed by man while occasionally feeling the rear tracks start to
sink which sends a panic message to the brain to hit the throttle, is something
just a couple of years ago I could never have imagined seeing or doing. The
combination of the ice, the wind, and the rolling landscape had sculpted all
that barrenness into a breathtaking canvas. Sometimes literally breathtaking as
we soon found out after riding up a steep hill and stopping because Gary had
stopped and put his hand out. Before us yawed a 30-40 foot drop into a 1/2 mile
wide gulley. Beauty and the Beast again-Ya just have to know how to treat her
with respect. We traveled on and passed next to another much narrower but still
deep gulley when Cathy pointed and Gary stopped. Not more than 50 yards from us
was a massive moose gazing intently at us through the willow branches he had
been munching on. The staring match continued for a few moments until he lost
interest in us and nonchalantly returned to his rudely interrupted lunch. After
another mile or so of travel we began to see more and more caribou tracks in the
snow and we came across an old caribou kill that had no snowmachine tracks
around it. There were however plenty of dog like tracks that we figured had to
be wolves. Not long after that we halted again as Cathy pointed out a group of
about 5 caribou. As we sat and watched, another group appeared in the distance.
Gary stated that this time of year the males were easy to distinguish
because they would have all shed their antlers by now. He continued that he
didn't want to take a male because the meat has a strong taste this late in
winter. He assured us that only the females had antlers this time of year and
that they did not have that strong taste. So, we were on a quest for antlers.
None of the first groups we came across had antlers so we traveled on. Soon we
were coming across vast areas that were pawed up by the feeding herds of
caribou. Some of those holes were three to four feet deep and posed a concern,
but the machines just glided right over them with hardly a bump felt. We
continued to spot small bands here and there but none had the required antlers.
Usually when we spotted a herd it was about 300 or more yards away and they
immediately begin moving away from us. We kept searching and finally spotted a
herd that consisted of some animals with antlers. They were walking in a line
out on a vast expanse of flat open snow. We gave chase and Cathy brought one
down with one shot from her rifle unbeknownst to me, while I attempted to bring
one down with my .44. The animal reared when I shot so we all thought that I
had hit it, but it ran. So, not wanting to leave a wounded animal we gave chase
and Patty stopped it with the .44 as I drove.
The animal Cathy shot had no antlers. It turned out that Cathy was aiming for
one with antlers when this one crossed in front just as she squeezed the
trigger. Her antlerless caribou turned out to be a female. The one we brought
down had antlers and he turned out to be a male. So much for the Eskimo theory
of which one has horns and when. We dressed and quartered them in the field
leaving everything unusable piled neatly on the hide. This act we have been told
is a show of respect for the soul of the animal. Also the leavings will benefit
many other animals including the wolves, the foxes, and the ravens.
It was now 5pm and we were all a bit tired as we headed back. This time
Gary had us heading in the right direction by sighting on a mountain in the
distance. Again I mention there were no visual references to tell which way
town was but we did have the GPS in case Gary was wrong again. We stopped at the
Senior Center in town as the tradition is to give the first animal you kill to
an elder and this was Patty and my first caribou. Not only that but our plans
were to only harvest one animal, not two. We didn't know when we killed ours
that Cathy had shot another one and we didn't need that much meat. The folks
from the Senior Center wanted the meat but their freezer was out so they
contacted a needy family in town and we brought the excess meat to them. Patty
actually went into the dwelling and said that all the furnishings she saw
consisted of a couple of mattresses on the floor, a recliner with sheets and a
blanket on it, and a table. I felt bad having to chase the animal as we did but
I felt a lot better knowing the meat went to a family with a real need for the
food.
It had been a full week for us all and Mike and Christy left for Anchorage
on the noon flight Sunday. With them went a case that contained frozen salmon
and frozen caribou, "surf and turf" arctic style. We were sad in a way to see
them go but glad for the respite and as soon as we arrived back home we both
settled down for a much needed nap.
This week we returned to the normal grind although moving a lot slower as
we stiffly went about our way. It's funny how a little thing like bouncing
around on a snowmachine affects muscles you didn't even know you had. The temp
this morning was 10 below zero again and I have to say that although we are
getting out and enjoying the winter sports as I mentioned at the beginning of
this letter, we are getting a bit tired of the bitter cold. There are still a
couple of good weeks of fishing and riding ahead but we are all ready and eager
for the warmth and green of summer.
Carlo
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Last updated:
12/28/05