A most fortunate encounter

This day started with a disagreement with the editors of the new Iditarod book over whether something did or didn't happen during the 1974 race. I distinctly remember watching mushers cross the ice on two rivers near Anchorage. Others say that only happened in the first race in 1973 and in '74 there wasn't enough ice so they had to truck the dogs over two bridges to restart on the other side.

I even have a photograph of one team on the ice, but have no idea where it is so proving my point was difficult.  I had to leave the issue unresolved but I thought at least going my way and head for Anchorage.

I stopped at one of those super stores to get cash and something to eat.  While I was waiting for someone to sell me a few chicken tenders, I looked over into the seating area next to the delicatessen section. Sitting there was one of the mushers who actually crossed that ice during that 1974 race.  Disagreement resolved. Right now.

I had not seen him in at least 25 years. Dick Mackey had gone on to win the Iditarod in 1978 by the slimmest margin in history, literally by a lead dog's nose.

The next year as a race official he flew along the trail just as I was doing, gathering material for "The Last Great Race." At every stop we sat around fires or tables laden with beaver stew or on steel folding chairs in village community centers and Dick Mackey shared his knowledge with me, analyzed the progress of various mushers, assessed the quality of the trail, and the quality of different dog teams as the race moved toward Nome. I can honestly say he made my book so much better than I could have done without him. His expertise and willingness to share it meant so much to the finished product and I have been eternally grateful for his help.

And there he was sitting with his wife in the deli section of Fred Meyer on the very day I needed to confirm there was ice on the Matanuska River in 1974.

To tell the truth we talked so much I almost forgot to ask him about that. We covered how we are dealing with aging, firewood,  and views of the modern race compared with the old days. It had been a tough trail this year, but in the years Mackey ran the race they were all tough and the race did not get nearly the tactical support it gets now.  Even the trail itself was not guaranteed to be there.

"One guy this year complained it wasn't fun," he said. "you know in all my races, even running on a clear night with everything going well and stars shining or the moon or northern lights, I never thought of it as fun." he said, "satisfying, yes, but work, not fun."

The comment hit home. I have a friend who thinks everything is fun. But, everything isn't fun. I have built three houses during Alaska winters and while I found that satisfying, and I was happy about it, it was never, ever fun. I was glad to hear someone else enjoyed experience the same way I do. And as far as the tough trail this year, I knew what he was getting at, but I had to say I have not run the race so I have no standing to say what is tough and what isn't and who has it harder and who doesn't, but then I looked at him and said: "what you guys went through just doesn't compare with today."

And he said about the fun complaint, "you know three girls finished last this year and they came across the finish line with 12 or 14 dogs and all smiles. And they did it in 11 days." They found a way to have fun. In his day, Mackey ran races that took more than 20 days.

We have other shared experience too.  He is 81 now and I mentioned that I was planning for 81 by mapping out how much firewood I need to put in to get myself to that point so I can still make it to the East Pole, with a lot of the work already accomplished.

He laughed, smiled at his wife and they agreed they have about five years worth of firewood stacked right now. Made me feel like my plan is good, given that I have almost 10 years to get to 81 with five years of firewood under the house.

So, with the firewood issue settled, the state of the race thoroughly discussed and most of all the disagreement about ice on a river in 1974 resolved we said our good byes and went our separate ways again.  I felt richer for the experience.

Photo finish: Dick Mackey wins the 1978 Iditarod by 1 second.

Owl be seeing you in the polar vortex

Updated Jan. 21, 2015, April 19, 2014

OK, here goes. Wacko theory No. 8,634.

Much of the eastern United States suffered some heavy winter weather this year, largely blamed on something called the polar vortex. That is a combining of elements involving the jet stream the positioning of high pressure centers in the cold north and warmer weather far offshore to the south. In my limited knowledge I don't think it's fair of me to explain it much beyond that.  However there will be links below to places that will.

Earlier in the winter, in November and December, people began spotting snowy owls way south of their usual habitat. Normally they nest in Arctic regions and migrate south for the winter but generally stay north of 60 degrees latitude.  Anchorage, Alaska is at about 60 North. This year there were sightings throughout the midwest and as far east and south as Virginia. It struck me that these two events might have something in common.

I remember suggesting to one friend she overlay a map of the vortex onto a map owl sightings, but I never heard back. So, today I gave it a try and look what I came up with. The map on the left below is of the vortex; the one on the right is snowy owl sightings in November and December. Coincidence? Ha, I don't think so. Of course there are exceptions but it sure looks like the snowy owls congregated just where the vortex was gong to show up later.

One blast from the polar vortex on AccuWeather.

Snowy owl sighting reports on eBird.

Now, taking it a step further, could the snowy owl migration pattern have been a harbinger of the polar vortex that was about to slam the eastern United States.  Could they be the wooly bear caterpillars of the bird world?

Years ago I read an article in Sports Illustrated magazine written during the construction of the trans-Alaska pipeline. In it the author wrote of his fascination with bananas on a dining hall table on the Arctic Coast of Alaska. He noted that in nature when an animal appears far outside its normal habitat, it's an indication the herd is in trouble. And then he's looking at humans and bananas in the Arctic and wondering if our herd was in trouble.

Were the owls such a warning? Is the snowy owl in trouble for some reason? Was there a low point in their normal prey species? Were they just trying to be friendly alarmists to warn people of the coming harsh winter? What else could be going on? One would take a whole new wacky theory and I am only good for one a day. But consider this, Alaska is in the weather path for winds to bring radiation from Japan. Ponder that one for a while. Meanwhile I am sticking with the owls simply going where they were most comfortable, and willing to go so far as to guess they have some indicator that helps them anticipate what winter is going to do and they act accordingly.

The point here, though, is not the speculation about why it happened or theories about motivation. The point is simply the observation that snowy owls showed up ahead of time in the same areas where the polar vortex later brought its storms.

But we have a warning for those folks on the East Coast. We are going to be wanting our owls back, and soon.

A BIT OF AN UPDATE: Some comments have shown up, several saying the change in migration is due to a change in prey species. One said voles were down in the Arctic while another blamed a decline in the lemming population. That makes sense. That, however doesn't change the basic premise pointing out the correlation between the owl migration and the location of the polar vortex. Perhaps it's the lemmings or voles that signal the change in weather pattern. There a couple of new links to articles about the phenomenon below.

ANOTHER UPDATE: That snowy owl a commenter on here mentioned, the one who was rescued after it was hit by a bus in Washington, D.C., was scheduled to be released today (4/19) in northern Minnesota. Here's that story. There were other rescues, too, at least two, one in Cleveland and another in Portland, Oregon.

Graphic credits: Polar vortex: Accuweather.com; owl spottings: eBird.com; snowy owl photo: Wikkipedia


Another version from Alaska Dispatch News 12/10/16

It's happening again in 2015

Audubon magazine article on the snowy owl irruption

New York Times: Snowy owl a harbinger of climate change?

Snowy owl

Snowy owl migration 2013, eBird

NASA animated depiction of the winter's polar vortex

What's a polar vortex?

Bush rules: break one and pay a price

It's the Equinox at the East Pole.

Despite the freedom it affords, there's a set of rules for living in the Alaska Bush. Well, actually, there are several sets of rules. Everyone has a personal set, based on experience, advice and common sense and no two sets are exactly alike.

Probably the first rule on everyone's list, or should be is: You are on your own. If something goes wrong there is no one around to help and no way to call. Keep this in mind every time you approach a new task.

The weather is here,
I wish you were beautiful.

Down around No. 812 or so on my list is this one: At least in March you break trail with the snowmachine in the morning after the snow has set up in freezing temperatures overnight; in the afternoon when the snow is softer you break trail on snowshoes.

The one photo is the result of ignoring rule No. 812 and attempting to break trail on a heavy snowmachine in late afternoon.

There should be some kind of corollary to that rule but I can't seem to find the right words. The thing is I could have drop-kicked my little Tundra over that knob. Instead I brought this big lunker for its  power and it took a couple of hours of shoveling, a lever and fulcrum and at least two hookups with a come-along and a good 50 feet of rope before it came free. Then once it did break loose it rolled over on its side on this hill. You break a rule, you pay, sometimes double. My Tundra has never rolled over. 

Rule No. 812 violated and the payment.

Now, that mistake was made trying to pack a loop up and down the hill to bring up a bunch of firewood. Forgive me lord, but I took down a giant sort of healthy birch tree. Mind you that tree has been partially blocking my view of Mount McKinley for the past 28 years, so it has been approached with some patience and consideration. Rationalization? Once cut open it exposed the beginnings of rot in the lower trunk. That is the way of a climax forest.

Over the course of the week between digging out the snowmachine several times and lifting heavy sections of birch, some so heavy I had to split them first, my body took a pretty good beating. Another one of those rules. Stay in shape. But there's this about staying in shape. It seems no matter how hard you gain, you are still just as beaten at the end of any chore. The understanding came one day after hiking the trail. At the beginning of the first winter out there that hike had been exhausting. Still, toward the end of the season, it still wore me out. The thing was, when I started out it was taking me about three and a half hours and by the end of winter I was doing it in less than two and a half. So, using just as much energy but doing it in only about two-thirds the time. I tried to explain it to my son one time when he complained about always being tired after basketball practice. Shouldn't it get easier as you get better? he asked. And I said, no, because you are expanding the horizon.  When a sprinter breaks 10 seconds in the hundred does he quit? No, he goes for a 9:98 and then a 9:96 and will always be just as tired if he gives his all, like I told my son and so many others have said, you leave it all on the field.

So as the week went on I felt myself dealing with it much better and lasting longer and best of all, that lack of firewood mentioned after the previous week is over. I was able to split all the wood from a year-old blow-down I cut up last summer and get it stacked under the house to dry. That will be ready next winter. So now I have birch. Plus, under the porch is the remains of the 50-foot birch I cut this week drying for me to split this summer or fall and the way I use firewood out there any more, worth at least a couple of years. 

The remains of the huge birch, still to be split.

Firewood from the blow-down, drying away.

You think of things while splitting wood and one of those this time was all things considered, I should be able to keep coming out there for at least the next 10 years. That would make me 81. If over that time while I am still in good shape, I could put in 10 years worth of firewood, I might be able to stretch it out a few more years. So, now the goal is to cut one big tree over each of the next five or so years and thus take firewood out of the chore cycle for the next five or more after that. We'll just have to see how far I can extend it. Of course that means staying in shape too.

All in all spending the better part of two weeks at the East Pole was marvelous. The weather could not have been better. Clear, cold nights and warm sunny days, day after day and still going on into the future. Almost every day I spent an hour or two on the porch just soaking up rays. Only one major disaster. And this rule should be well above No. 812: I ran out of Jell-O.  This was serious. I don't know why but working hard in the cold almost demands a helping of Jell-O afterward and I thought I had enough but I ran out mid week. A friend on Facebook and who has lived on boats and in the Bush offered to order an air drop. We do have our inside humor.

Does he look regal or what?

Walter had the time of his life running free. I was a little  concerned about him tangling with a moose but there was very little sign around so I let him go. Of course he's still a puppy and took advantage of every chance to try to knock me down the hill again. The baying of  a hound in the deep woods, even if it is objecting to a passing snowmachine is still music to the ears.

It was tough to leave this morning and I found myself thinking of excuses to stay. I had no real reason to leave except maybe running out of Jell-O, but I always could have bought a few more supplies and gone right back. Once committed, though we came back. Next year it might be worth thinking about spending a month.

Now about those rules. With the snowmachine I broke two and then there was the Jell-O. That is one of the interesting parts of those rules, you keep adding to them as you blunder from one chore to another. I have always liked to say let's move on to bigger and better mistakes. As long as you don't make the big one it's all character building. But, too, I like to say I am 71 years old, this  IS my character. There is also some satisfaction in overcoming difficulties without having to call the guy, even when those difficulties are of our own making. Overcoming a shortage of Jell-O however isn't done easily

So there should at least be a corollary to that rule No. 1. It would go something like this. If you are alone and make a mistake, there is no one around to laugh at you, no one to ridicule you, in fact what happens in the woods, stays in the woods if you want it to. Of course if you choose to expose yourself on a blog that's your choice but you do so at your own risk.

So laugh all you want; I have more than a year's worth of birch firewood under the house now despite my rule-breaking and my beaten-up body and that feels good. 

Firewood and Revery

MIght be, could be, maybe, if

Flight 370: IF the plane flew northeast it COULD have landed at the East Pole. Heading out today to check.

The endless flight

Does anyone remember the lingering illness of Gen. Francisco Franco? When day after day newscasters had to reach for something to say about it as the general clung to life? 

And then, Chevy Chase about a month after Franco's death reported on the Saturday Night Live news that Gen. Francisco Franco is still seriously dead. 

Well, if they don't find this missing airplane soon, how much more can the talking heads find to speculate about? It's everywhere all day long and every damned sentence begins with "if."

The crux of it is Flight 370 is still seriously missing.