Three years, now; where are you?

Age about 26 during an outing with rehab group.

January 31 has rolled around again, one of those dates that mark progress through the year. It's the
day I last heard from my friend Kitty after more than a decade of our online relationship. "They're here. I got to go," was all she typed at the end of our conversation that day in 2017, the last thing she ever said to me. "They" were supposedly folks from a detox center in Seattle, picking her up to go into their program. I have heard nothing since and now I'm beginning to accept the fact that I never will.
I have no idea if she is dead or alive. I knew at the time she was avoiding a dealer who had threatened her for owing him money. I know she had passed the age of 30 and was beginning to understand the onset of maturity. And, I hoped for the best as she went through another detoxification program. She had gone through another in St. Louis where she lasted a year and a half, but within days of her leaving she was back on meth and drinking heavily. Still, she managed to hold a job.
I've written a lot about her, including 800 pages I had hoped to publish as a book sometime, but life and moods and realities got in the way and the manuscript lies dormant in a file box and in the computer. Perhaps as happens in that novel, after my death someone will find it and finish it. Not likely but I would hate to see her story go untold. There are messages in it for people like her, life lessons maybe someone could avoid if he or she only knew.
Some of that book is on this blog, so I won't repeat it here, but the links below offer insight to anyone willing to read.
In the meantime I will think about her as I work my way through the day and hope she is all right. She deserves a better life than she was living.
Conversation with a young prostitute
One path to life on the street
One more theory about my missing friend Kitty
Busted
Another descent into that methamphetamine mind
Out of the haze of drugs a day of optimism
A bittersweet anniversary
There are others. If you wish to read more just search "Kitty" on the blog.

East Pole Journal January 29, 2020

First new firewood of the year.

     Not a whole lot to report, mostly housebound by low temperatures for a couple of weeks now. But after weeks of below zero weather, the temperature yesterday rose to plus 29. It's supposed to be almost that warm today then back down near zero again by the weekend. Enough weather, although I am taking advantage.

Let the woodcutting begin

     Last year because of deteriorating weather I had to leave a couple of weeks earlier than I had planned. As a result I didn't get as much firewood in as I had expected and now I am seeing myself running short this year. I have a supply of seasoned birch but I'm not sure it will last to the end of March, so I have been picking out beetle-killed spruce which should be dry enough to burn. Today I took down a huge one and even got some of it up the house and split. I wanted to at least get it down as I might have to leave to take care of a disaster at the other house. I always leave a little water running to prevent the pipes from freezing, but when I got my electric bill it was half what I usually see and I'm afraid it's because the well pump hasn't been running. A power outage could have killed my flow of water long enough for the pipes to freeze. The landlady went out there yesterday but couldn't make her key work to get inside. She did assure me no water was on the floor anywhere that she could see through the window. So, I had to explain again that there should have been water running out of the kitchen faucet. Back out there today but I can't be sure yet because the Internet is not letting me see my Ring video right now.       Oh, but there are days the medicine does work. When that spruce came down it took a fairly sizable birch with it that has plenty of firewood in it too. Tomorrow I will either be cutting more firewood or driving to town to take care of frozen pipes. So it goes.

Burning the new wood

I split a little bit of what I cut. Plugged in the fancy moisture meter: 19.2 percent moisture. It burns though, but slower and doesn't generate the normal BTUs, at least it feels that way. At any rate it will help me stretch my meager wood pile with some left over for next year. In full firewood mode now.

About that moose

     The pregnant moose has moved on. She hasn't been heard from in the past couple of weeks.

About birds

     Still dozens of chickadees around but this week five redpolls showed up, the first of the year.

Then, yesterday this female hairy woodpecker came by to pick some beetles out of another spruce. I don't want to take that one down because the chickadees roost there and also flee to cover in it when a predator comes around the feeder.

The East Pole Journal

Vas is Zeiss?

     I seldom go so far as to recommend a product. Maybe it's because I liked one and the companywas bought out by another that cheapened the product and raised the price once too often. But I've come across one I think anybody who wears glasses or owns any sensitive glass electronics would like. The name is Zeiss and the product is lens wipes. When I saw the name I assumed it was related to the German company known for fine camera equipment and a quick Google check today confirmed it is part of that company which is known for quality. I have liked them better than any other lens wipes I've ever tried. Now I've learned more. I have used them on computer screens and cameras, but here is a new one. I watch DVDs and listen to CDs here at the cabin. Streaming video is a far-off dream. Tonight for the second time this winter a DVD started skipping on me. Turns out I had used up all my other cleaners, so I tried the Zeiss pads. Both times now they have cleared up the skip, so that's why I am passing the word along. Worth trying, believe me. They were one of the very few reasons I would go to Walmart but recently I saw them in Fred Meyer which means they are probably in Kroger stores too and others I don't know about. The package is white with blue lettering and both places I have seen them are in the eye-care section near the pharmacy. (And, honest, they aren't paying me anything.)

Zeiss lens care from the company Web site

East Pole Journal January 13, 2020

The East Pole maternity ward is open

This is the primary suspect in the case of the noise in the thicket.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about something crashing around in the brush at the bottom of the hill. Well, it is still going on. On a cycle of two or three days I have heard it regularly since then, sometimes in the middle of the night and sometimes during the day. A thick stand of climax birch trees blocks the view from the house or deck and even when I move, I have yet to see it. I am leaving it be. No sense disturbing moose in the middle of winter when they need every bit of energy they can muster just to stay alive. Still, a visual confirmation would be pleasant. Later in the day I heard loud cracking a few hundred yards to the east from where all the others emanated, but still within hearing distance (to state the obvious). And then, here she comes, moving back from west to east, back to her original thicket, and oh boy, is she pregnant. Look at that belly. Shortly after I took the picuture she moved into the thickest part of the undergrowth and laid down. I can't see her now but I know right where she was.

Temperatures rising

For the past couple of weeks the temperatures have been well below zero. Not quite as bad as some other places, I mean, I didn't see anything like 50 below friends in Fairbanks have been experiencing or even 20+ below at the other end of my trail near Talkeetna. The coldest it went here was 17 below one night but stayed pretty much in the teens-below for the two weeks at least. I had planned to go out sometime in that period because I was running low on a few things, but I wasn't interested in driving around on a snowmachine at 20 below, nor could I expect my truck to start. After all the truck had been sitting there unused for almost a month. Toward the end of last week the forecast called for warming, so I prepared for a quick dash. Saturday night I ate the last Oreo cookie and Sunday morning I had the last Excedrin pill. Fortunately Sunday it was +2 here and a balmy +7 in Talkeetna and I had hitched up and loaded the cargo sled the day before so I headed out. With the temperature somewhat above zero, the truck gave one little groan, then fired right up. So, great when all your machines work on the same day. (At the end of the day I even solved a problem with the generator.) By the end of the day I had restocked the vitals I needed and made it back no problem. All is well again at the East Pole. Oh, here's measure of how the cold spell had affected things around here. I had to try a third place before I could find some bottles of the gasoline additive Heat.

Robin Hood and Little John

There's one spot on the trail where it crosses a fairly large creek which when frozen often has overflow on the ice. Most years once it freezes it is all right to cross, but after breaking through that ice several years ago, if I have any doubts at all I use a bridge our group built a few years back. It's narrow, only wide enough to accommodate a snowmachine or four-wheeler. So yesterday though I could see some folks had crossed the ice it looked a little shaky to me despite that spate of cold weather so I drove up onto the bridge. About a third of the way across  (we're talking about 20 or 30 feet here) I noticed I was following fresh moose tracks. So what would I do if I met a moose on the bridge? Immediately my mind went to the fable of Robin Hood and Little John where both wanted to cross a small bridge and they fought it out with staves. (When's the last time you saw the word "staves?) Robin eventually knocked the bigger man off the bridge much to the amazement of those watching and a legend was born. So if a moose challenged me for the bridge, um, last I looked, no staves, no bow and arrows either. I don't usually carry a firearm in winter and I also didn't have a sword or dagger, not even a pocket knife. I might have had a box cutter in the tool bag I always carry. Prudence would say avoid the confrontation and let the moose do what it wanted, after all it would be larger than someone named Little John. Later, driving back I wondered if I rushed at the moose and tried to knock it off the bridge if that would work. It would certainly surprise the moose, but I could also envision both of us going off the bridge tangled together and breaking through the ice into the water below. Mostly in the future I will stop before driving onto the bridge and take a good look at the surrounding woods for any sign of moose wanting to cross before I can get off it. I have always done that, but I will take a little more time with it from now on. Thoughts along the trail are fun, don't you think?

For the birds

It's been a strange year for birds and it's not just here. The only birds I've seen all winter are chickadees and one magpie that comes by every so often. No redpolls, no Pine grosbeaks, no woodpeckers and none of the predatory birds that occasionally show up. I've seen a raven fly over now and then, but that's about it. I was talking with a friend who lives about 10 miles away as the crow flies (if there were any crows.) and he has observed the same general pattern. For all we've read about climate change and bird populations declining, this looks pretty scary. But, there are cycles and redpolls change their migration patterns all the time, so maybe it's just this odd year. Let's hope.

Back when I was an editor (they say once you are you never aren't)

Is there a broadcast news reader or a news writer anywhere who can refer to a prior year without using "back in," as in "back in 1998?" Those are two wasted words, probably filler so the broadcasters feel more creative or at least use their whole minute. You can say "in 1998" and it means the same thing without the flourish. We get it that 1998 is back in the past. I should be in charge. Seriously. LOL.

A couple of comments from facebook:

Joe May: We had five of them in the yard at one time today. Eating shrubs, lilac bushes,a Siberian Pea tree, and the Mugo pines. Last summer it was the neighbors cows on the lawn every week, now it's moose.
I don't begrudge the animals a meal, especially the wild ones, but it seems now they're bringing all their friends and relatives to dinner.

        Gretchen Small: same here with birds.....lots of chickadees, downy and hairy woodpeckers, a few magpies, and a few ravens   and a pair of boreal owls.    no redpolls, crossbills, grosbeaks, siskins, or nuthatches at all.   but several black backed woodpeckers which i have not seen in years.  last summer's birds were of fewer species also

It's everywhere. Check out this thread on the Birds of Alaska facebook page

East Pole Journal

More than you ever wanted to know about firewood

That's the gauge, reading wouldn't show.

I left the East Pole at least two weeks earlier last year than I had expected. Rain and consistent temperatures above freezing necessitated a quick exit lest I get caught here for a while and even then I would have had to hike out. As a result I left a considerable amount of wood cut but yet to be split. I had split a cord and a half and a little more. FYI a cord is not a pickup-full. It's two rows 8 feet long and 4 feet high. I have left now just about one cord. I burned the half between December 3 and now (January 9). This takes me through the cold part of the winter and as temperatures warm toward spring I use less. I do have about half a cord stacked under the porch and in a pile under the snow (covered by Visqueen) down the hill. I also had half a cord of spruce, which burns much faster so not the best firewood compared to birch. Looking at what I have left, I have started splitting a day's worth from the stack under the porch every day to supplement the main supply.

And therein lies the "more than you probably want to know." Last winter my friend Joe May sent me a device that measures the moisture content in the wood. You want as low a moisture content as you can get for burning; that's why we normally cut for a year ahead. Unfortunately the lower the moisture content, the faster it burns. Anyway: I made a couple of test chunks. Last March they measured 18.3 percent moisture. I checked in December almost as soon as I came out. They measured 15.2 percent. So, in about nine months I gained about 3 percent. That is rated "medium" on the meter. Doesn't seem like much, but it burns fine. 

The nine months triggered a memory. A few years ago I read something put out by the State of Alaska about firewood and whoever wrote it said all you need is 9 months drying. I will watch my test chunks and see what they say at the end of March. My experience says a year is better. Another thing the writer said is it makes no difference if the wood is frozen, that goes totally against my experience. The wood I have saved under the porch is well frozen after almost two weeks of sub-zero temperatures. Several of them display the scars and wounds from when I tried to split them with my 18-pound maul, but gave up. At these temperatures they fall apart under the 6-pound maul. Enough said. Of course there's that 3 percent moisture loss. It looked to me like that article was written by someone who had never spent a day in the wood lot.

20.5 percent moisture reads in the high zone.

But there's this that applies as well. Even in sub-zero temperatures, the relative humidity outdoors here remains above 70 percent and in the teens and 20s flirts with 90 percent, so we aren't getting much help from climate.  Note the reading in the photo: 20.5 percent. That's from the center of a chunk with about a 14-inch radius from what I am splitting daily. One I checked earlier came from the outermost part of the wood and read 15.2. The one I am monitoring under the house was also from a center cut. I guess it pays to split the wood.

Then there's the discussion about buying a hydraulic log splitter. I am not much of an exerciser, but I find splitting wood (and the other physical aspects of the process) gets me into some sort of shape fairly quickly. And obviously offers plenty of time for the mind to wander as well.

Katniss and the chopping Block

Firewood and Revery

Let the sun shine in

What the heck is that?

Look what peeked over the ridge and through the trees today. Mark it. January 7, the first time sunlight has hit the East Pole since mid November. Always a special day in this country. That's the highest it rose today, right about local noon or what I have learned recently is called solar noon which is around 2 p.m. daylight savings time because of some government manipulation of time zones and daylight savings as well. This stuck with me ever since I read it years ago. Something said by a wise Native American: "Only the white man would cut one end off a blanket, sew the piece to the other end and think he had a longer blanket."

From my perspective, the sun rose around 2:15 p.m. and set around 2:25. Of course officially we had 5 hours and 30 minutes of daylight with the rise at 10:22 a.a. and setting at 3:52 p.m.but here a high hill to the south blocks it for much of the day.

Given the present climate conditions I would rather have seen obscuring clouds. That would have warmed us up considerably. Yesterday with some cloud cover the temperature ruse to minus 6 — heat wave. After much complaining about winter coming late this year, for most of the last two weeks the daily high has been well below zero. The coldest I saw was minus 18, but that is because of my elevation. Just 12 miles away the town of Talkeetna lived through several days in the minus 20s and flirted with minus 30 a couple of times. This cold is predicted to last at least a couple more days. 

Farther north I have friends wrestling with the minus 40s and occasionally minus 50.

Philosophically this is the Alaska a lot of us came for, the harsh climate that tests us and challenges us and toughens us and sends a lot of people hightailing it back where they came from.

I am running out of some things and planned to go out this week to do a little shopping, but maybe I am getting older, I have no taste for riding around on a snowmachine at minus 20 though that never stopped me in the past. The tragedy of it all? I only have about two more days worth of Oreo cookies. Hoping to go day after tomorrow when the forecast is for temperature slightly above zero. We shall see.

And then there's this:

The Log of the Midnight Sun, Part 2

A pirate looks at 40 with the Orca
flag flying from the backstay.

PART 2, THE BIG OCEAN

This is a tale journaling the voyage of the sailing vessel Midnight Sun, a Nordic 44, departing Valdez, Alaska, bound for Honolulu Hawaii in 1982 with base crew of five.This part begins after a trip through the Inside Passage and nine days spent ashore in Puget Sound. 

Sailing Day 21, September 29: As we depart Bellingham, it's time to introduce the crew, those five who sailed to Hawaii. The captain was Vince, who came to be called Captain Invincible as the syntax of the voyage expanded; next, me, licensed skipper and recently published author; then there were three Mikes: Mike R, the most creative mechanic I ever encountered; Mike K, a vegetarian; and Mike L, a lawyer and friend of the owner.

We tootled through the San Juan Islands to Reid Harbor. Nice day, going to Port Townsend to outfit for the crossing. Just about citied out and slowly easing back into boat life again.

Sailing Day 22, October 3: Ready to leave Port Townsend in the morning. Highlight of the stay was the tour of Neil Young's replica old-time, square-rigged sailing ship the W.N. Ragland. As could be expected, amazing sound system on board. In the evening standing in the cockpit looking down the deck of the boat and everything seems ready and anxious to go. Harbor water lay calm with no wind yet the boat seemed to move, as if surging against its mooring lines demanding its release from land. Even the halyards and other lines going aloft seemed to move in nervous anticipation of the voyage to come. Time to go.

Day 24, October 4: Finally under way for Port Angeles with the open ocean tomorrow. Boat lunged against its mooring lines again this morning and seemed to leap forward as we released them so we could leave. We made Port Angeles, but left about 14:00 even though it didn't look like we could make it out of the Strait of Juan de Fuca this day. Forecast called for winds of 25-35 knots, but lessening the next day into that evening. Made a last phone call before I would be out of contact for who knows how long. Call resulted in a disagreement with a woman I had been seeing, which was less than thrilling on the eve of what I looked forward to beginning one of the great adventures of my life. So it goes.

A brilliant red moonrise over Juan De Fuca as we ran in the dark to Neah Bay. Ate another turkey along the way. Out.

Day 25, October 5: Ready to go but waiting weather. Gale warnings for waters 60-200 miles offshore the coast of Washington. Small craft warnings for up to 60 miles offshore. Gale and storm warnings farther north, all southwesterlies which would be right on the head for our planned course. Good day to wait, several chores to do yet.

Day 26, October 6: Waiting out weather for most of the day, then took on fuel and left about 16:34. Spirits up, heading to sea. The storm was subsiding but there was still a pretty good lump. I had the helm. Turned corner to the west outside Neah Bay and set sail for Hawaii. Waves 8-11 feet going into them on a close reach. Passed Cape Flattery on a course of 270 heading west. Took gusts in the 20s and some higher, one of 34. Had some difficulty holding the helm especially when a wave would head us. Leaning over the side with the boat healed over we saw the base of the keel a time of two. Took water on deck occasionally when the bow dipped despite only using the working jib. Going straight into the squall but could see light on the horizon beyond it. Vince said come up so I brought us closer on the wind to slow us and steady us a little. Wind started shifting to the north. Came too close to it at one point and stalled. The jib backed and had to turn off until the sails filled and gave us some way so we could come about and return to our original course. Still having difficulty holding the helm. Then Mike R called out we had broken the starboard top shroud (a stay that supports the mast) and it was swinging wildly. In a guttural voice, Mike says, "We go home now." So, lessening sail to ease the strain on the mast we turned and returned to Neah Bay.

Day 27, October 7:  Captain Vince was able to contact the ship yard by phone and they said they could ship a new shroud to Port Angeles for arrival the next day, so we spent the rest of the day sailing there.

Day 28, October 8: The shroud arrived early and Mike R went up the mast to remove the remnants of the old one and attach the new one. We sailed out of Port Angeles at 12:57. That fix had to be some kind of record.

Trip Log start: Loran C: 1592.6/3622.6 (This was before GPS)

Engine hours: 841.97

Barometer: 1025 rising

Weather forecast: East winds to 30k in Juan de Fuca; wind 15-25 SE. Seas 10-12, lessening overnight.                     

Depart 1300. I had the watch from 2000 to midnight and then 0400- 0800 on the 9th.  Good sailing overnight and made 140 NM from Cape Flattery in 22 hours heading south toward Cape Mendocino 200 miles north of San Francisco. 

Day 29, October 9:  In the watch scheme I had the next 24 hours free. The way Captain Vince had worked out the watch schedule we had two six-hour watches during the day and three four-hour watches overnight that gave each of us a full 24 hours off every three or four days. Mine just happened to come up first. I took advantage to make my first miserable attempt at fixing our position with a sun sight. Got over the queasies I usually feel the first few hours offshore and then read and slept most of the day.

Day 30, October 10:  Sea perfect. Ran wing and wing heading south. (Wing and wing refers to running before the wind with two headsails run up the forestay with one tacking on each side of the boat.) Making six knots with the boat on even keel and thinking this is what it is supposed to be like.

Days 31-32, October 11 and 12: One full day at sea. At midnight on the 10th our watch ended but we had wrapped the light-air genoa around the forestay and when the others came  up we tried to bring it down but it was knotted and wouldn’t come down easily. The orange part had been ballooned by wind and kept everything else tight. We changed course to shield it with the main and planned to run the rest of the night like that. Mike R and I went to bed but before we could fall asleep all hands called on deck. Shielded from the wind the genoa had started unfurling and fearing the forestay might come loose as the balloon got bigger and put more strain on it we tried taking it down again. We ran the engine until the boat matched the speed of the wind. That took pressure off the sail and we started unwinding and yanking. It took about half an hour but the sail finally came down and we could release it from the forestay. For the time being it was packed away in the forepeak and Mike R and I went back to our berths.