Day 32, 2/1/2011

The East Ramp of the Fairbanks International Airport is reserved for small aircraft. 

In the state of Alaska, there is one registered pilot in every 58 residents. With most of the land being accessible only by air, it’s fair to say that everyone who has lived here a while knows a bush pilot.

Day 33, 2/2/2011

Today I had a choice of three photos to post.

1. The perfectly star shaped chip in my brand spankin’ new windshield 

2. Some ravens dining on tidbits from the Taco Bell dumpster

But I had to go with # 3…

The Alaskan Hummer.

Day 34, 2/3/2011

It’s snowing! Again!

Most of the country is experiencing some sort of frozen precipitation right now, and oddly enough, it’s been warmer here the last few days than it has been in the Midwest.

Alaska weather is unpredictable at best, but I will admit that I never tire of seeing these feathery white flakes gliding down outside my window.

Day 35, 2/4/2011

This bike is modified for winter transportation, as you can see by the fat snow-hugging tires. 

I wonder if he has a cup holder.

Day 36, 2/5/2011

The Alaskan Brewing Company is located in Juneau and was founded in 1986. You can find these craft beers now outside of Alaska in stores and bars along the west coast, and it remains a very popular brand here.

One thing you notice if you’ve been living here for a while and then you go outside for a visit, especially the further east you get, is that everything here historically speaking is relatively recent. Alaska has been inhabited for thousands of years by the native tribes, and is rich in pre-history, but wasn’t an organized territory until the early 1900’s. We only became an official state in 1959, so you don’t get the sense of colonial American history here, but the prehistoric resources are abundant.

Day 37, 2/6/2011

Superbowl Sunday.

Enough said.

Day 38, 2/7/2011

On a cold day everyone plugs in their cars.

No, they aren’t electric, just winterized. In Interior Alaska, the dealers don’t even sell cars until they have been fully winterized with battery, oil pan and block heaters. A plug sticks out of the front end of the car like an umbilical cord to receive an extension cord, and most all parking lots here have outlets to plug in to.

Day 39, 2/8/2011

Locals Allan and Jim construct an ice sculpture for Fairbanks Hockey Hall of Fame’s Hockey Week celebration which begins Sunday.

The famed Stanley Cup will be visiting our own Big Dipper Ice Arena, home of the Fairbanks Ice Dogs, as part of the festivities.

Day 40, 2/9/2011

How many restaurants can say this?

To my small and exclusive group of followers:

I will be incommunicado for a few days as I head out to join other volunteers on the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race trail tomorrow. But never fear, I promise to return with great photos and stories!

Day 41, 2/10/2011

Surprise, I'm still here today. I was planning to be at Slaven's Roadhouse tonight, but the weather had other plans for me. That's the way it goes flying in the Alaska bush. I will be trying to get out again tomorrow morning. In the meantime, here's a taste of what's to come...

Harnesses hanging on the wall in Cold Spot Feeds, a local supplier for mushers.

Day 42, 2/11/2011

A Denali National Park pilot checks the weather again.

We are still held hostage today as we wait for the squall that has blown up from the gulf to dissipate.  Hopefully the weather will clear tomorrow, and we will try again in the morning.

Day 43, 2/12/2011

Hello everyone, I'm back in civilization again, and it will take me a few days to get caught up here. There's no way I can limit myself to one photo a day for the next few entries, so I'll try to keep it down to five...

Today we finally had a break in the weather and were able to fly out to Slaven’s Roadhouse in the Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve. Not a moment too soon, either, because the first musher, Hugh Neff, has already arrived, and last I heard, the race official and the vet had not been able to fly, so there was still just the startup skeleton crew on the ground.

It was a nice, smooth flight, clear skies and very little wind.

We arrived to find Hugh Neff up and around and getting ready to leave. He was still there about an hour after we landed, so I had plenty of time to get some photos of him and his dog team. He is hours ahead of any other musher, so he was able to take his time here. He seemed well rested and in very good spirits, and so did his dogs.

We contacted the Eagle office via radio to find out who to expect next, and when. The SPOT trackers that the mushers were carrying were not always accurate, so it was good that our dispatcher had other ways to attain the information. Hans Gatt and Sebastian Schnuelle came in around 5:30 and 5:45 PM, respectively. Ken Anderson was not far behind, he showed up around 6:00 PM. Other mushers that came through on the 12^th were Dallas Seavey, Brent Sass, Allen Moore and Dan Kaduce.

This was my first taste of the routine, start to finish, which was pretty much the same with all of the mushers. They would appear on the east side of the cabin, and someone would yell “team!” Then the person who was on that shift (day shift or night shift, 6 to 6) and designated to “park the dogs” would run outside and guide the team in by the lead dog to a good spot to bed them down. There were bales of straw ready, and a bed was made for each dog to curl up and rest in. The musher would then come inside and place an order for food that the second person on shift could be preparing while the musher fed and watered their dogs (no musher EVER ate before taking care of their dogs).

There was a large pan of hot water on the woodstove at all times. The musher would bring in a cooler of food for the dogs, which generally consisted of some type of fat, mixed with other varied ingredients and was always frozen in one solid block by the time they stopped to feed. They would dip out some hot water to melt the food enough to where they could break it into chunks, then sometimes take it outside and cook it some more with portable stoves that they carry with them. (the whole time I was there, the temperatures ranged from -35 to -55)

The vet and vet’s assistant would then go out and check each dog, and if the musher had any special concerns about any particular dogs they would address those more thoroughly. Once the dogs were snuggled up in their straw beds with their coats and blankets on, and their booties were off and hung to dry, the musher would sit down to a hot meal and go upstairs for some rest, which they needed, because they had just traveled 101 miles since the last checkpoint.

There was a chart on the wall with numbered bunks, and someone had to follow the musher upstairs to see what bunk they were sleeping in, because there is no electricity, so it’s very dark, and other mushers may be sleeping, so we needed to know where they were when we went to wake them up without having to take a headlamp and shine it in everyone’s face to find the right person. The musher would let us know what time to wake them, and we would mark the board on the wall with the musher’s name and wake up time in the appropriate bunk. Sebastian Schnuelle said he needed to sleep with earplugs, because Ken Anderson “snores like a son of a gun.”

When they got up, they went back out to check on their dogs and give them a snack. If there were any sick or injured dogs that shouldn’t go on from there, they were “dropped” at Slaven’s, and the next plane coming in would pick them up and take them back to the musher’s handlers. Once the dogs were ready to go, the musher would sometimes come back in and have another hot meal before hitting the trail again, because they had 58 miles to go to the next stop, and that’s a long way at 40 below. It usually took at least an hour to get everything ready to go, and then they were off again.

Day 44, 2/13/2011

Today we felt the sting of 45 below, and it will probably get even colder during our stay as the weather report is “severe clear” for the general vicinity and the foreseeable future.

These temperatures make getting the chores done around here less of an enjoyable effort, but they need to be done just the same. I went along to help get water to bring back to the cabin yesterday morning, and today our resident journalist/volunteer, Eva Holland, asked if she could take a turn. Eva is a freelance travel writer out of Whitehorse, and has been an incredibly good sport on this trip, offering with enthusiasm to help out in any way needed.

To get the water, a snowmachine (we don’t call them snowmobiles up here) would pull a sled with two containers, an auger and a shovel down the bank to the Yukon River. The hole that the set-up crew drilled when they first arrived is marked, and is covered with a thick sheet of foam board and a pile of snow to insulate it enough that it doesn’t freeze all the way down again. There is about three feet of ice on the Yukon this time of year. The ice hole (giggle – yeah, I know I’m immature) is uncovered, and the shovel is used to move the snow away. A couple of people auger the ice away that has formed on top of the hole, which is usually from a couple to a few inches thick by now. A ladle that has been fashioned from a wooden stake, a coffee can and some duct tape is used to dip water out of the hole and fill the containers, which are then lifted back on to the sled (heavy!) and driven back up to the roadhouse. This process has to be repeated at least once every couple of days, so that there is always plenty of water on hand.

One of the containers is designated for dog water, and supplies cold drinking water for the dogs as well as the heated water for their food. The woodstove is stoked at all times, and there is a large pot of heated water on it for the mushers to use for the dogs' food. This pot is to stay full, so if any of us see it getting low, we use a designated pan to dip water out the dog water container and pour it into the pot. Only one pan (ours) can be used to dip water from the pot, so that there is no cross contamination between any of the dog teams in case there are any sick dogs.

The other container is for human water, and supplies the two drip filters on the table nearby that produce water for our consumption and the mushers’.

Today Kelly Griffin and Joshua Cadzow came through Slaven’s. Wasilla’s Griffin, a veteran of the Quest, says she’s running this race in honor of her brother, who recently passed away. 23-year-old Josh Cadzow of Fort Yukon is also a veteran. He is a single father, and even at his young age is already a well-loved and respected member of his community. Last year he came in seventh place and won the Rookie of the Year award.

There are a total of four dropped dogs here presently that were left by mushers who came through previously that were concerned that they may not be 100% healthy. Three of them are sick, and one sadly has passed away. In the rare event that a dog dies on the trail, there is a methodical procedure that is strictly adhered to by all crew and volunteers, beginning with notifications. The on-site vet conducts an initial examination, and joins the race official for an interview with the musher. The dog is transported as soon as possible to a location where a thorough necropsy can be performed to rule out any signs of abuse or neglect. In this case, the dog’s death was very sudden and unexpected. The seemingly healthy dog had just eaten and rested with the rest of the team, and was showing no signs of a problem when checked by the vet earlier. According to the musher, about 12 miles before Slaven’s, after a short break, they got up and ready to go, the dog took a few steps and just dropped. The head vet will determine the exact cause later. The loss clearly took an emotional toll on the musher, and has saddened us all.

The Quest pilot came by today to pick up the dropped dogs and take them to their handlers. The crew here has taken good care of them round the clock and they are already beginning to perk up and feel better. They have nothing to be ashamed of, having helped their team travel some 711 miles of the total 1,000, over a lot of the harshest terrain they will see, through a blizzard and some brutally cold temps. Way to go guys! You are tougher than woodpecker lips!

What better way to end the day than the sight of the aurora dancing over dreaming pups and the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of ravens wings just overhead that I can only hear from the ground because this place is so absolutely still and quiet? Seriously, I don’t know if I’ve ever been in a place that was this absolutely still (in a frozen way), at least not that I can remember…

Day 45, 2/14/2011

2/14/2011

Today is my 24^th wedding anniversary, so I told everyone I won’t be back next year unless Matt could come too, because there’s no way we would not spend the silver together.

Last night Pat made chicken and noodles for us for dinner, and it was so good that I thought I’d overeaten afterwards, because I had that I’m-uncomfortable-because-I’ve-overeaten feeling, but it turned out I was wrong. I woke up around 2:00 AM with stomach gurglings so loud that I was seriously worried it would wake the other two sleeping in the cabin. After a knock-down-drag-out with myself, my stomach won, and I begrudgingly rolled out of my sleeping bag, donned my slippers, gloves, hat and headlamp, and stepped out into minus 50 degree air to go to the outhouse. (If you saw the photo of the one-holer on my post a couple days ago, you can imagine why you try to hold it as long as possible, and when you finally go there’s no dawdling in the toilet.) If I could bottle an instant 100-degree temperature change, I’d be quite rich. It’s way better than a strong cup of coffee or any 5-hour energy drink.

Afterward, I came back into the cabin, and knowing I was now wide awake with an upset stomach, I decided to go ahead and gear up and head down the trail to the roadhouse. (I’m grateful for the bright moon we had most nights out there, it made that 500 or so yard trek a lot more pleasant.) I arrived to find the night shift folks, Jennifer and Michael Rafaelli, awaiting the next group of mushers, who were expected at any time.

Jennifer is a permanent full time employee of Denali National Park, and she and her husband Michael run the dog kennels there. She was a rookie running the Quest last year, and therefore a subject matter expert. They were perfect, good-natured and hard working, never missing a beat as the teams came through.

I spent the morning feeling nauseous and trying to get it under control. I didn’t want to be “the one” who got everybody sick this year. At the same time I was wondering who’d given me this bug. It had to have been one of the mushers, because everyone in our crew had been healthy before we arrived and up until now. Normally the smell of the pancakes Michael was making on the propane stove was mouth watering in a good way, but right now I just wish the smell of food wasn’t everywhere.

The morning and early afternoon was spent tending to the three teams that arrived. Jodi Bailey, Dave Dalton and Mike Ellis were travelling together. Pat Sanders having now taken over the day shift was busy getting the mushers fed, while Chris Ciancibelli, an NPS Archaeologist volunteering at Slaven’s, took care of the outside chores like splitting wood, parking dogs, putting straw out and raking it up, etc. The veterinarian, Mercedes Pinto, checked over each and every dog of each and every team that came through. Mercedes works in Fairbanks at the 24-hour emergency vet clinic. She says it’s a bit different working with sled dogs, because she mostly sees house pets that are critically ill by the time they get to her. I would imagine it’s a bit like comparing an Olympic athlete to a little league baseball player.

The vet’s assistant, Paul Atkinson, is always on call as well. Where you see her, you see him. Paul is an I.T. Specialist for the NPS, and volunteers here every year. He used to work as a sled dog handler years ago, and is very good with the dogs, not to mention he works like a dog! Constantly looking for something to do.

Also checking over every team and musher is the Quest Race Judge stationed at Slaven’s, Wayne Valcq. What a fun guy to be around! He has a great big smile and jovial laugh, and reminds everyone of their grandpa. Imagine one of those Alaskan old timers that you’ve heard about that always has a great story or a funny joke and has seen and done it all, and there you have him.

As they get the last of their gear together and linger for one more cup of coffee, Bailey talks about her experience thus far. “This race sounded like a really good idea in the sauna a couple months ago.” A middle distance champion, she says there’s a learning curve associated with being a rookie in a long distance race. “Every time I think I have it all figured out I find out I don’t.”

One of the things to get used to is the cost of preparing and entering a race like the Quest. As we watch one of his dogs relieve himself through the window, Wayne Valcq teases Dave Dalton about his skill in acquiring funds. “How do you get so many sponsors to be able to turn all that money into dog shit?” Dalton replies, “I use bull shit.”

As they get ready to head out the door for the last time and prepare their dogs for the long stretch ahead, Dalton boasts that he has the record time for getting his team’s booties back on. Bailey says her hands don’t work so well when it’s this cold so she’s slower. Valcq suggests she ask Iditarod and Quest veteran Ramy Brooks for his secret, as he was fast with the dog booties. Dalton asked, “Does he have a bootie shoehorn?”

This afternoon, Pat said I could use the sat phone to give Matt a call and tell him happy anniversary. I was able to get through to his voice mail and leave him the message. It was so ass cold outside that I got the shivers from just standing out there for a few minutes. When I went back inside I couldn’t get warm and just kept shivering. I still had an uneasy stomach, so I went upstairs to lie down for a bit on an empty bunk since the next group of mushers was still a ways out. I started to hurt all over, and thought it was from shivering so much that I’d made my body sore. I felt worse after I got up, and still couldn’t get warm, so I decided to go up to the Public Use Cabin and crawl into my sleeping bag for a bit. I rested there for several hours, and it became clear to me that I’d had a fever, and that it had broken. I got up around 11 PM and went back down the hill, feeling better by the minute. Whatever it was, it only lasted 24 hours.

When I woke up, I got the shocking news that our front-runner Hugh Neff had run into some trouble and lost a dog. Neff has a reputation for starting out strong, and invariably having some disaster keep him from winning. This race was his to lose, but he won’t escape the curse this year. He had to withdraw. Worse than that, his lead dog Geronimo died from a freak incidence of aspirating on his stomach fluids. We are all disappointed and sad for him.

On top of that, the second place contender ran into trouble as well. Hans Gatt and his team fell into overflow on top of the ice. The dogs were submerged and Gatt was in water up to his chest. Luckily Sebastian Schnuelle was not far behind, and helped Gatt and his team out of the water. Remarkably, the dogs are all fine, but Gatt had to scratch and is being treated for second-degree frostbite.

Schnuelle lost about four hours helping his friend, but is at least able to continue on to finish the race. As I pick my jaw up off the table after hearing of this surreal turn of events, a discussion ensues about why people would put themselves through such a miserable experience. It’s hard for some of us to understand what the attraction is, when it’s a big enough ordeal just to go to the outhouse when it’s -50. Michael Rafaelli’s theory is that mushing is about contemporary people wanting to recreate and understand the challenges that earlier men faced on a daily basis. “You have to remember that people used to do this all the time, the race route is based on the trail that was used to deliver the mail.” He goes on to say “We’ve become so comfortable with all our modern conveniences that we think of things in terms of what we have to do versus what we are capable of.”

If there’s one thing I have learned it’s that we are capable of much more than we think. On the other side of the coin is whether or not our desire is strong enough to commit all of our might to reach the goals that seem unattainable at first. Though this is admittedly turning out to be an exceptionally tough year, this race wouldn’t be my personal cup of tea, but I am impressed by those that are determined to do it.

Before the official end of the day, we greeted the last cluster of mushers traveling together - Tamara Rose, Jerry Joinson, Kyla Durham and Johannes Rygh. Just one more lone musher left on the trail before Slaven's now. “Lights outside! Teams coming in!”

Day 46, 2/15/2011

The group of mushers that came in last night have been sleeping, and are waking up this morning to get ready to go.

During the night the last musher on the trail comes in, Canadian Hank DeBruin. He wants to sleep a while, so he will be a strong contender for the red lantern award.

The crew whispers among themselves about concerns for a couple of the mushers that are getting ready to leave. “Could someone check her feet, she’s walking around like they hurt,” “will you look at those boots he’s wearing, they aren’t warm enough,” “he may run out of food before he gets to Circle.” Despite the fact that they are all moving slowly this morning, they all are prepared to go out there again, and no one dropped any dogs. (The dogs are all in good shape; it’s some of the mushers that worry us.)

Pat asks Jerry Joinson if he’d like sausage, bacon or ham with breakfast. His reply is “yes.” In this bitterly cold weather, people need thousands of calories each day for their bodies to stay warm enough to function. This will be their last chance to fill up with a good hot meal today, and every one of them knows it. Slaven’s is one of the mushers’ favorite stateside respites, since most of the stops from here on out don’t have a quiet, comfortable place to sleep and this caliber of food service.

Young Kyla Durham, who is my daughter’s age, is one of the youngest rookies this year. She looks like any other fun loving girl on the outside, but has a stalwart iron core. She and Jerry Joinson have a discussion about sleep deprivation as they gear up to go take care of the dogs this morning. “I was starting to see things that aren’t there,” Durham says. “I thought I saw lights ahead a few times, but it was just the glistening snow.” She laughs as she recalls a story about another musher she knows that lives up north. “He wears a parka with a big white wolf ruff. He dozed off for a minute, and when he woke up he freaked out because he thought he was being attacked by a polar bear!”

Kyla heads outside to tend to her furry buddies. Pat makes a joke to Joinson about whether this Kyla or another young Kyla that they know cusses more. The 55 year old Canadian rookie (Joinson) laughs and says “Yeah, but that girl’s (Durham) got more heart…Whenever I think things are bad, I just say, if she can do it, so can I!”

Pat briefs everyone on what has transpired with the front runners, and congratulates them on all being “in the money” because the top 15 finishers are all guaranteed a cash prize, and at this point, there are only 15 mushers left in the race. Kyla responds, “I didn’t want to win anything like that, I just want to pass somebody.” Good for you Kyla, we hope you get to do that!

Tamara Rose departs Slaven’s at 7:21 am, followed by Johannes Rygh at 8:40, Jerry Joinson at 8:45, and finally Kyla Durham at 9:15.

This is the day we were originally supposed to go back home, but the cold weather will alter those plans. As we wait to hear from the pilot in Fairbanks, and look at the digital thermometer in the window, everyone pretty much already knows that we will be here another night. The park pilots are not allowed to fly in certain conditions, and it is far too cold out for them to have permission to come in today. This is confirmed when we hear from Lou in Eagle, who tells us that there is an added complication, because Brad’s plane (the one Eva and I flew in on) is having engine troubles and is now in the shop. We are told to stay put today and that he will come up with another plane tomorrow. Jen and Michael radio Denali dispatch to let them know they won’t be there tomorrow in time to take the team out on a patrol they had scheduled, and Lou lets the Fairbanks office know we’ll be at least a day later than planned returning.

The Quest pilots however do not have the same restrictions. They are able to come by and buzz the cabin, and radio down that they will be back later to pick up whatever needs picked up in the way of dogs or Quest personnel. Mercedes and Wayne get their gear packed just in case they are to be whisked away to the next checkpoint on a moment’s notice.

It’s late morning, and DeBruin is awake and taking care of his beautiful team of Siberian Huskies. “What they lack in speed they make up for in looks,” he says. 

Mercedes would like to look at one in particular, a female named Charlie, who seems to be shivering excessively. We are all thrilled as Charlie gets to come inside for a bit. Mercedes takes her temperature and says it’s a little low. She and Paul feed her warm food and water, and she perks up very quickly. As Hank goes outside to prepare his team, Charlie runs around the cabin looking for a way to get outside with her master and her family. She is ready to hit the trail! Mercedes checks her again and is amazed at how quickly she is back to normal.

As he comes back in for a last hot meal and cup of coffee, we have a chance to chat with DeBruin. Upon emerging from the icy cold he says “Thank God for hand warmers!” DeBruin has also run the Iditarod, so Wayne asks him how the two compare. “Trail wise, climate wise, this one’s a LOT tougher.” We ask him how he’d feel about being the last one across the finish line in Fairbanks. “I get accused a lot of smelling too many roses,” he replies, “but why the hell would you come all the way out here to do this and not let yourself enjoy it?”

I agree, Hank. It is a race after all, but it’s nice to know that there are folks in it who take the time to appreciate all of the extraordinary sights and things they are experiencing, and recognize that they are one of a handful of people in the world who will ever be seeing and feeling what they are living through at that moment. The last few days several mushers have talked about their amazement at the Northern Lights, or their dogs’ enthusiasm, or the fact that they lived through the weather they just encountered on the summit, etc.

Epic stuff.

We see DeBruin off at 12:30, and take a group photo in front of the cabin. 

Jen Rafaelli has been looking a little green around the gills, and confirmed that she wasn’t feeling well today. I guess she’s the next victim of the bug that bit me. Sorry, Jen. She and Michael head up to the PUC to get some rest, since they are off shift now and have been up for around 20 hours at this point.

Lou radios to us to tell us that the Quest office says that Wayne and Mercedes will not be flying out today, either, so Mercedes goes upstairs to unpack her sleeping bag, because it takes a while to fluff back up once it’s compressed.

We had some visitors on snowmachines today. The trail crew stopped by, two fellas, whose names I didn’t get. They follow a couple of hours behind the red lantern to collect trail markers and anything race-related that got accidentally left behind by the mushers (like dog booties - we found a dozen or so around the roadhouse in the snow after mushers left).  The photo below shows some signs that trail breakers had put up along the way for the mushers’ amusement, to brighten up some of the longer stretches. The two clean-up dudes brought them in for the trash (a couple at a time), but before we fed them to the woodstove, we had fun reading them and trying to put them in order so they made sense. 

One of the mushers laughed at a similar sign he saw with an arrow pointing to a tree that said “Pee here.”

Just when they had gotten comfortable, the Quest pilot radios in that he is a few minutes out from coming to pick up Wayne and Mercedes, one at a time. Pat radios to let Lou know that the pilot didn’t get the memo from the Quest office that he wouldn’t be fetching them today because he is about to land. Wayne goes first, because Mercedes now has to deal with that fluffy sleeping bag again! The pilot tells her, “If I’m not back by 5:30 pm, I won’t be back today.” Nothing like hurry-up-and-wait.

The pilot comes back at about 5:29, and Mercedes heads down the hill to the river to meet him. They have just enough daylight left to get to Circle City. I was sad to say goodbye to Wayne and Mercedes, but hopefully I’ll get to see them again.

Now, all we have to do is clean up and pack up, but we can’t do that until we hear for sure that the plane is coming to get us tomorrow, because we still need the supplies for ourselves as long as we’re here. Also there’s a slight chance that a musher could turn back and show up again, so we’re all prepared for that as well until they’ve all reached the checkpoint in Circle. So it’s a relaxing evening, and Pat declares that for dinner tonight “it’s every man and woman for their self!”

We warm up some spaghetti and everyone (except poor Jen) enjoys a rare sit down meal together. Pat tells us to be back down around 8 am, and we’ll see what the weather is doing and go from there. Eva moves down to the roadhouse, since everyone is sleeping during the night for the first time, and there are only four bunks at the PUC. One more trip to the frozen outhouse, and it’s hello sleeping bag.

Day 47, 2/16/2011

2/16/2011

As we woke up this morning, Jen felt like her fever broke during the night. She’s still weak, but feeling a bit better.

We go down to the roadhouse to find the temperatures still colder than 40 below, and are thinking that we very well may be here another night. We have breakfast, and I decide to go up to the PUC and take a bird bath while it’s empty, since everyone else has packed their gear and brought it down, just in case. We all figure it will be 11 am or so before we know what the pilots have decided to do.

I go up the hill and start a fire and melt some snow in a pot on the woodstove. I wash up to the point I can stand myself again, and pack everything but what I’m wearing today. It’s about 10:30 am now, so I damper the stove down so the fire will go out quickly, bundle up, put my bags on the little plastic sled that I borrowed, and drag it all back down to the roadhouse.

To my astonishment, I arrive to a flurry of activity. “The planes are about an hour out!” Holy crap, they went for it!

Brad had called up his friend Andy Greenblatt, who my daughter and I have both flown with before on sheep surveys, and they were both enroute to pick up the first load of people and gear. We had little time to get everything packed and put away and cleaned up before they got there. 

Pretty much everything that was in the cabin had to be taken out of the cabin, but with several of us working on it, we got it done quickly. (It is especially important to make sure there is no food left there, because in the spring it will attract bears from miles away, and they will do quite a bit of damage to a place breaking in and helping themselves. It has happened before at nearby Coal Creek Camp.)

Andy arrives in the first plane and takes Jen and Michael back to Fairbanks. Once they get there they have a two and a half hour drive to Denali. Shortly after that, Brad shows up to take Pat and Ed back to Eagle. Pat is reluctant to go before everyone else has cleared out, but she trusts Paul to close up shop and make sure the last of us get off safely, as he’s done this many times before. She hops on the sled behind a snowmachine and goes to meet the plane.

So now it’s just Paul, Chris, Eva and myself. We have a couple hours to wait while the planes travel to their respective destinations and turn around to come back for us. The guys have to get the snowmachines back up to Coal Creek, about 4 miles away. Chris is now showing signs of being the next victim of the stomach bug. I have a feeling it will go through all of us before it’s done.

When Pat radios in that the planes are on their way back, Paul and Chris leave Eva and I at the cabin with the radio, as they will be leaving from the other airstrip. We discuss the fact that it’s a bit of an eerie feeling waiting there those last few minutes alone. Although we know we’ll be on our way home within the hour, we also know that anything can happen, and if by some freak chance the other plane left and something happened with ours, we would be spending the night out here alone because there isn’t enough daylight left at this point for another round trip. But luckily, everything went smoothly and as planned. We went down to link up with Andy, and after greetings and meetings, were winging our way back home. On the flight back we talk about family, pets, soaking in Chena Hot Springs, the weather, and whether or not Eva will decide to stay in Fairbanks tonight or drive as far as Tok and stop there. She has a long haul back to Whitehorse, and they are calling for snow during the night. At least it will finally warm up a bit!

I’m thinking to myself about being able to see Matt’s smiling face again, and slip into a hot bathtub with a glass of wine. Then my thoughts turn to the miles and miles still ahead for the mushers and their dogs remaining out on the trail. I wish them all a safe trip, and to be able to finish the race successfully. I feel privileged to have met them, gotten to know them, and been a small part of their experience this year. Some of them will go on to race in the Iditarod in a month or so. For some, this may have been their last hoorah. And for the rest, they have just cut their teeth on this race. They will reflect on lessons learned, and begin the hard work it will take to prepare for the next long distance battle.

As for me, I just want to thaw out, and then start going through my footage and the hundreds of pictures I snapped. A million words are going through my head that I need to get down on virtual paper. I have to get something written up for the Park Service, and oh my goodness, get caught up with my blog!

Update: here is a scanned copy of an essay that Eva wrote that was published in "Up Here" magazine this past October.

Day 48, 2/17/2011

2/17/2011

Today’s photo: the Alaskan greenhouse.

A moose hide hanging inside, snow piled up in front of the door and caked on the caribou antlers adorning the front, and a leftover wreath from Christmas hanging below them. Folks in warmer climates are starting their seeds right about now.

Good thing we have so much daylight here once summer finally comes!

Here's an update on the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race.

Rookie Dallas Seavey is the winner this year. Hmmm, I wonder if he passed Gatt and Schnuelle before or after Gatt fell into the water...

Sebastian Schnuelle ended up with second place, followed by Ken Anderson in third. Our girl Kyla Durham finished 11th, having overtaken Jerry Joinson who came in 12th. Way to go Kyla, you got to pass someone! Hank DeBruin finished 13th with the Red Lantern Award. 

Day 49, 2/18/2011

A pair of ducks soaking in the natural hot tub created by hot water from the steam plant emptying into the Chena River. 

Why fly south?

Day 50, 2/19/2011

The girls wait patiently for their favorite treat.

Yummy Chummies are manufactured in Anchorage and are made with wild Alaska salmon. Fish is one of the best foods for a dog.

Chum salmon are also known as dog salmon, because subsistence users in Alaska often catch and store them to feed to their dog teams.

Iditarod and Yukon Quest champion musher Lance Mackey buys salmon from the hatchery in Valdez to feed the dogs in his kennel. 

Day 51, 2/20/2011

A chickadee hunkers down for the snow that he knows is coming.

Day 52, 2/21/2011

We had a remarkable snowfall during the night, with just shy of two feet at our house. It wasn’t a record for the amount of snow at this point in the year, but for us it was certainly a record for what was dumped all at one time!

The Interior is considered a desert climate, so while we do get a fair amount of snow, this type of storm is rare for us.

Cicely takes the path that her daddy shoveled into the yard for she and Penny to be able to navigate to go potty. They are currently forced to use an interconnected series of tunnels like the Viet Cong just to be able to go pee!

Day 53, 2/22/2011

Did someone say there really aren’t any igloos in Alaska?

Day 54, 2/23/2011

Hot Licks is a local favorite for ice cream, once only available at stands in the summertime.

Everyone was thrilled to see them open a shop where we can go and enjoy this beloved treat year round.

The shop off of Chena Pump Road is colorful and fun, with artwork titivating the otherwise sterile ceiling tiles.

Day 55, 2/24/2011

Netflix. 

Essential to Interior Alaska winter survival.

Day 56, 2/25/2011

March comes in like a lion. And it’s not even quite March yet.

Strong winds coupled with the already snow heavy trees caused a power outage at our house today. Which has been happening a lot in the area lately.

Day 57, 2/26/2011

A crowd is gathered on the Chena River near downtown Fairbanks for the snowmachine racing festivities today.

Tonight the finishers of the annual Iron Dog Race are expected to cross the finish line. Todd Palin is a contender for first or second place, but his celebrated relatives haven’t arrived to greet him yet, and the spectators can’t be expected to stand around with nothing to watch all day until they get here.

Good thing the annual gathering of vintage snowmachines known as the Tired Iron Race is taking place! 

Day 58, 2/27/2011

Curling is one of those sports that a lot of folks don’t consider a sport. It’s closely related to shuffleboard, and involves players sliding specialized stones across a sheet of ice.

Where better to hone your curling skills than Fairbanks? To those that curl, it’s a very big deal. They are dedicated and practice religiously. I don’t see it selling more tickets than a hockey game just yet, though.

Day 59, 2/28/2011

The Alaska Railroad extends over 500 miles from Seward to Fairbanks with branch lines to other areas along the way and carries both freight and passengers. The trains are a fixture in the greater Fairbanks area.

 When we first moved up and lived in Birchwood housing area which used to be on Fort Wainwright, the tracks were just across the street from our backyard. The first time I felt an earthquake (which are also common here) I simply thought it was a train going by.

Day 60, 3/1/2011

Go ‘Nooks!

Day 61, 3/2/2011

A raven leaves its perch atop a receptacle at a UAF parking lot.