To Roam in Nome

This week I was in Nome, the hub village for the Bering Strait region (pop 3,500). We were there to co-sponsor a workshop with NSF that was looking for local input for their regional science plan (i.e. NSF is going to dump a bunch of money for science into the Bering Strait and wanted to consider local needs). It was my first trip to Nome and I learned a lot at the workshop, and also just being in town.

This is the northwest campus of the University of Alaska. All courses here are taught through distance learning.

Here local IRA (tribal organization) leaders and elders point out landforms on a map to Gay Scheffield, an ADFG biologist based in Nome (and an amazing person).

Here's our group standing in front of the ice of the northern Bering Sea. There were residents from Little Diomede, Gambell, Savoonga, Wales, and Shishmaref.

It was interesting to go through the priorities the scientists had identified and compare them to what the local people were interested in. Local priorities were overwhelmingly focused on contaminants, marine mammal tissues, pollution, and marine debris. Contaminants from all over the world end up in the Arctic and make their way up the food chain to humans who are harvesting marine mammals for their diet. 90% of the meat consumed by the people of Little Diomede is subsistence -- whale, walrus, seal, seabirds, and fish. Its little wonder they are so concerned about the health of the resources -- and the potential increase in shipping, offshore oil development, and fisheries that may come with an ice-free Arctic.


After the meeting, my boss Molly (right) and my friend Heidi on the left (resident of Nome for the past 3 years and Marine Advisory Program agent for UAF) went for a walk out of town. It was pleasantly around zero, with a cloudless sky.

Heidi did a great job of introducing us to Nome -- it was a real treat to be able to see her in her home environment and what she had been up to the past few years. Her high energy and creative ideas have really done a lot for the community.

Molly and I watched the sun set over the ice. Because the sun angle is so low in northern latitudes this time of year, it lasted about 30 minutes! Spectacular. We had a nice dinner at Vera Metcalf's home (she is the head of the Eskimo Walrus Commission), and then flew home under a large moon. You could look down and see the geometric shapes of pack ice and the leads between them. It was a great trip.

Weekend skiing

Some fun on the slopes! This weekend it was Toby and the girls.

Is Toby smiling because it's snowing or he's skiing with 4 girls?

Julie was not afraid of the snow.

She also had a special affinity for trees

Me, Julie, and Heidi. Laura (not pictured) was busy jumping cliffs. Well done, Laura.

The next weekend was clear and Toby, Molly Krehlik and I avoided the crowds at Turnagain to ski on Twin where there were only 3 people the whole day. This photo looks back towards Turnagain (Petes and Lipps)

Our wonderful friend Molly

There was a 25 degree temperature inversion so the valley bottom was cold. This seems to be a frequent occurrence this winter, both in the mountains and in Anchorage.

It was a great day after a fairly intensive week at the Alaska Marine Science Symposium (a great event though -- 800 people attended from around the country to present and share science focused on Alaska's waters and coastline). Check it out next January!

Arctic to Indian

On New Years Day, Toby, Carolyn Rosner and I welcomed 2010 with a trip from Arctic Valley to Indian. It's a 20 mile ski that most people do in the spring when the sun is out, the days are long, and the snow on the Indian descent is baked in afternoon sun. We had a slightly different experience with temperatures hovering between 5 and 10 degrees, sun from 11:45am to 1:03pm, and a pitch black icy descent. We still had a great time.

Carolyn sported her stylish ski skirt. After that trip, I think I'm sold on them.

The trail breaker, route-finder, and Mr. Patient

Peak daylight on the frozen river

Where the ice was solid, we stayed on the river to streamline our speed. Even though Ship Creek drainage is only one parallel valley back from Anchorage, we saw no one the whole day. I love how easy it is to be remote here.

The intrepid Arctic explorer presses onward

Part of the river we didn't ski

The peaks back there were really wind blasted. I was surprised how little snow there was.

We hit the pass well after dark. The first few turns were dreamy with thick hoar frost and a dark sparkly headlamp world. Then it turned to breakable crust, and then to an uneven and twisty trail of icy snow. The descent was fairly treacherous, wheeling between trees partially out of control for 2,000 feet, but it made it exciting and was somehow even fun. At one point, Toby saw glowing eyes just ahead on the trail. They belonged to a moose.

We made it back in time for a glass of champagne to celebrate the new year. Thanks to Kate for picking us up at the end of the trail, and to Carolyn and Toby for a great day!

Avalanche Safety

Last weekend, Toby and I headed to Hatcher Pass for a 3 days intensive avalanche course with the Alaska Avalanche School. It was a fantastic experience -- I cannot recommend it highly enough for anyone who travels in the backcountry. It was probably the most interesting, valuable, and critically necessary training I've had a in a long time.

We had class each morning starting at 8am followed by a 6 hours in the field and then back to the classroom til 7pm. It was an impressive use of time. The instructors really focused on integrating observations and clues --- terrain, snowpack, weather, and the human factor.

This is looking down into the Independence Mine basin. We stayed at the hut on the far left. The rest of the buildings are hold mining ruins. The Matanuska Valley is in the distance. The first day my group worked with beacons and rescue techniques on the right side of the valley.

The second day we focused on snow. Here I am pulling a slab from a snow pit. The snowpack is like a book -- you read through the layers and predict what might happen next (like if you ski it).

Laura and Aurora smooth their snow pit, looking at facets, rounds, and compression fractures from a compression test. They were in my group all three days and were great companions.

Over the course of the day, we learned about snow metamorphism, how to identify strong and weak layers, how to test snowpack, and what the results meant.


One of the members of my group is jumping on a rusch block to test slab potential. This one slid after 2 jumps.

It was great to be able to immediately field test the things we learned. The third day focused on route finding -- how do you make decisions about terrain and travel based on perceived and tested risks.

I am so grateful to have taken this class. If you have not taken a course, look up the Alaska Avalanche School: http://alaskaavalanche.com/Site/Homepage.html
You will use these skills immediately, and they could ultimately save someone's life (maybe your own).

December

Friends gathered for a White Elephant exchange.
It was a fun and merry evening. People brought amazing food!

April prepares for a safe ski season

Toby and I had a great day on Sunburst with out of town friends Dan Lesh, Cortney Kitchen, and Shawn Eisele. The skiing was fairly wind affected (note the ridge!) but it turned out to be better than we thought.

After 8 days of fog in Anchorage, the sun was a gift. Here are Toby, Dan, and Cortney.

Preparing for our second run.
Afterward, we skipped off to Handel's Messiah to cap a perfect Saturday.

On Sunday we went to an Advent celebration at Sepp's house. Here are Dan, Dr. Christopherson, Toby, and Sepp singing carols.

More singing! Why do we not sing more in daily life?

A Great Christmas Gift

This is a plug for Bill Sherwonit's new book Changing Paths. We met Bill up in Bettles in August 0f 2008 when we were each headed into the Brooks Range to seek some paradise. Bill is a true Alaskan adventurer and an amazing nature author. This is a fantastic book -- particularly if you have been in any part of wild Alaska. They're on sale at the major book stores in Anchorage including Title Wave.

More info on the book and Bill here: http://www.billsherwonit.alaskawriters.com/

Thank you Bill for all you contribute to Alaska!

Thanksgiving on Resurrection Pass

For Thanksgiving, we had a wonderful and memorable 4-day backcountry ski trip over the Resurrection Pass trail with our friends Anne and Steve (their wedding pictures from August are on an early post!) Leaving town before dawn, we started from the Cooper Landing side mid day in a full-on blizzard.

Four skiers, three nights, two cabins, and one sled.

Steve and Anne!

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving our first night in the Juneau Lake hut where a cozy wood stove cranked up to 72 degrees. Steve had cooked, carved, and hauled a turkey! We had sweet potatoes, quinoa, brussel sprouts, and chocolate. It was yummy.

By the next morning, there was even more snow. Steve deemed it a "snow day" since we didn't have to move our stuff and could play in the huge drifts of snow.


Since we had two nights at Juneau Lake, we took a day trip to Swan Lake to pack out the first part of the trail for an ambitious 15 mile day over the pass the next day.

It was truly a winter wonderland.

Anne makes a snow angel on Juneau Lake as the sky glows with twilight.

We packed up early the next morning and pointed our skis towards Fox Creek. (Here the skis are pointed at Juneau Lake which we talked about jumping in, but never chopped a hole in the ice to do it).

This turned into an extremely challenging day. Deep new snow made the going exceedingly slow, and there was high wind and sideways snow at Devils and Resurrection passes. It was one foot infront of the other for many hours.

Toby did a phenomenal job of breaking trail. Anne and I did our best to widen it to accommodate the sled that Steve was pulling. Steve was a champ, as the already heavy sled became about 3 times heavier due to the deep snow.

Anne and Steve on the pass. While the cabins on the other side had been booked, no one had made it in and there was no sign of a trail.

A quick group photo. We crested the pass, but our work was still cut out for us. The conditions worsened as it got dark, and our skis were diving with every step. Progress slowed to less than one mile an hour. Toby heroically maintained the lead with the seemingly impossible task of trail breaking. After 10 hours of slogging, we made it to the East Creek Cabin. It was not the one we had reserved, but it was late, we were exhausted, and the cabin was empty. We fired up the stove and ate some mean Thai curry cooked up by Anne.


Back at it the next morning. With 13 miles to go at our slogging pace of 1 mph, finishing before midnight seemed impossible. Miraculously, we hit a packed trail around 3pm, and then flew on our skis. The forest was indescribably beautiful with all the snow. When it got dark, the moon came out and an owl was hooting in the forest. We continued on with headlamps, energized by the whole of the weekend. We got back to Anchorage at 11pm, exhausted and happy.

I am really grateful for my three strong, steadfast, and entertaining companions that made a challenging weekend so fun and memorable.