A Walk in the Woods, and, you guessed it, more rain

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Rain and very windy all night long.  Still, the temperature stays above 50. 

Have I mentioned there are only two radio stations we can hear from the island, one being country?  My Ipod cable is safely packed away, until October 7, so there’s no option besides the radio, and a couple of CD’s that are about worn out. 

Have I mentioned we live in one room, like a hotel room basically?  Sure, it can be fun to live in a hotel, but not when it rains nearly constantly, and there is no movie theatre!  I do have the Internet for entertainment, at least, but can't use my phone, so have to go into town to do even that!  Going out to eat, something we enjoy, is challenging:  seems only very expensive restaurants stay open beyond six o’clock, too.  Oh, and it rains a lot, though not always hard, in case I haven't mentioned that fact.  Yes, this 'hotel room' living has lost it luster. 

I take Kathy to work, minus dogs, and go for a much-needed drive.  Today, for some reason, I’ve come to my senses, and I’ve started wearing my deluxe rain jacket, instead of a sweatshirt, when I go out.  It’s not so much that it rains hard, but it’s always warm, so the sweatshirt is too hot.  I’ve also got my hiking boots, which are much more water resistant than my other shoes.  Headed north, no particular destination in mind, reveling in not having the dogs along, and just driving.  I get out of range of the NPR station, so turn off the radio.  No deer, no bear, no birds, just forest and light rain.  I see a US Forest Service road, and a sign for a trailhead.  I continue down the highway until I find a safe place to u-turn, and head back to the trailhead. 

It’s two miles up a gravel road to the 20-mile Trail trailhead, so called because it’s at the 20 mile mark north of town.  I park at the trailhead and take off hiking.  The trailhead kiosk says this is a 1.5 mile trail that ends at beaver ponds on the Harris River, with an elevation gain of just 100 feet, and takes about 40 minutes.  Looks like a nice easy walk in the woods, just what I need.  It seems to have stopped raining, too.  I take off, enjoying the forest, not planning to make it the whole distance, but see where I end up.  I hear jays calling, some other bird, and cross lots of new bridges.  The trail is deserted and quiet.   I only go up about half way, to the 34^th location, as counted by the tin signs, located along many of the creek crossings and all of the new bridges.  I’m still anxious about leaving the dogs inside for so long, and still have errands to run before I get home, so I find a good place to turn around, and do so.

I see three alder trunks close together, and my mind instantly jumps to my favorite sculpture in the Musee d’Orsay in Paris, The Three Graces, or  Les Trois Graces, by Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux.  A check on Wikipedia shows there are many sculptures and paintings of the three women, but this is the only one I remember having seen.  How interesting, that these beautiful natural alder trunks would evoke that far away, in distance and time and circumstance, memory.   

I turn in my application for dispatcher with the Craig Police Department, and my volunteer application with the US Forest Service.  Jobs and opportunities are very slim around here, got to get something going. 

The storm knocked out or satellite TV last night, and it’s still out.  Thankfully it comes back.  Oh, this reminds me, Craig has a wonderful little library, which we are taking full advantage of, in use of their wi-fi, computers and printer, and fiction books.  J

Monday, September 19, 2011

This is an important day in the history of the Wescotts:  Henry made it to the top of Cowles Mountain for the first time, riding on the front of his Dad!  Jared told me Henry had a great time, waving to everyone, calling “Go” for every dog he saw (that’s what he calls dogs), and enjoying the ride.  Wow, this is so cool!  He follows in the steps of his grandmother, grandfather, grand uncle, grand aunt, mother, father, cousins, and his great grandmother Mary Wescott, who first climbed the mountain in 1948.  Great grandmother climbed it with her freshman class at San Diego State College, to follow a tradition and re-paint the giant S that used to grace it's southern slope, and is why it was called S Mountain for years.

Not much else today, besides high winds and driving rain.

Random Observations and a Lucky Confrontation

Today is Sunday, September 18, 2011.  I take the dogs for a walk, the first since Lakota was skinned on Friday (more later).  The light rain stopped, so we stayed out longer than planned, which the dogs appreciated.   

Next we went grocery shopping, our treat for the weekend.  Yesterday we relaxed, all day.  It was a special day, too, as it marked the half-way point in our last stay before we move into our own place.  Three weeks from yesterday (which better go a lot quicker than the last three weeks have gone), we will pack up our room and take the last trip down Pt. St. Nicholas Road, to 6755A Hemlock Rd, in the city of Klawock.  That will be a day of real celebration.    

We, er, I, got Lakota ‘trimmed’ on Friday.  Kathy said get her trimmed, I heard ‘shaved,’ so, Lakota no longer has any fur.  She has slowly adjusted, as has Kathy.  At least we won’t be finding her fur everywhere for awhile, wish will be a refreshing change.

Rain today, rain yesterday, most likely, rain tomorrow.  Oh well, at least it’s not cold.

Thursday was nice, at least for a while.  I decided to try the trail up Sunnahae Mountain again.  The sign had been changed, saying the trail was closed beyond the log bridge, about a quarter of a mile up the trail.  Bummer.  We walked all of the improved section, which has been widened, flattened, and covered with crushed rock.  Abruptly, the rock ends, the trail narrows a lot, and boot-grabbing roots cross the trail frequently, no fun.  We kept going anyway, and it got progressively tougher going, at least for Lakota and me.  Quinlan recognized only challenges, no obstacles, and kept pushing easily upward.  This is a steep trail for much of the way.  After walking a couple of narrow, slippery notched-log stairways, I came to my senses, and turned around.  The challenges were not over, though, as Lakota had somehow managed to get up a section of trail that she could not get down.  My shoulder hurt from a near fall, and I was really hoping I would not have to lift this overweight dog, even half of her.  Luckily, we found a detour that worked for her.

This is getting old, this interim living.  Our pantry is half of our bureau, our microwave is in the bathroom, tv dinners are old, wieners are old, short dinners are old, driving the beautiful Pt. St. Nicholas Road is even old.  The scenery will never get old.  Watching the nine foot tides swing twice a day, watching the birds, seeing an occasional otter, seeing the forested mountain across the bay, even seeing a few salmon try to swim up the little creek next to our place, all very fun.  Hiking the road is fun: even though it’s a road, it’s through the forest. 

Friday, September 16, 2011    I haven’t updated my blog in five days, not sure why.  Maybe things are getting ‘normal’ around here.  I took more pictures today, for my Signs series, these in Klawock.  I think signs tell a story, and might provoke questions from my readers which I haven’t thought to write about previously.

I did go to an excellent lecture on the geology of Prince of Wales Island Friday night.  It was given by a geologist for the US Forest Service, and touched on anthropology and glaciation, and was very interesting.

On my way over, I got to use my new Alaska drivers license for the first time.  I was speeding, and got pulled over by the Craig PD.  He clocked me doing 44 in a 25 mph zone, dang it!  I had no defense.  I think he got an urgent call at the right time, as he came back to the car and told me to slow down, and that was it.  Phew! 

I got my Alaska driver license this week, an important step toward our move.  This also changed my voter’s registration to the land of Representative Don Young, Senator Lisa Murkowski, and the second senator, whose name escapes me.  This is strange, living in a state, a huge state, with so few citizens it only has one Representative.

Kelli and Jared made reservation to come visit us!  Wow, it will be so fun to see them and Henry!  They arrive late October 13, barely five days after we finally, FINALLY move into our place!  October is going to be very exciting!

We get pretty good TV here, including local stations from Seattle.  This makes me feel more connected to home.  It’s odd to watch TV that is an hour ahead of us though.

I was driving between cities today, after having gone to the mailbox and the credit union, thinking to myself what a pain it was to drive back and forth.  Why was I thinking about this, since we commonly drove these same distances and longer, back home?  Then it hit me:  it’s not the distance, but the frequency, the result of our paring down to one car.  I’m driving in the morning, taking Kathy to work, then driving in the afternoon, to pick her up.  These two round trips were not necessary in San Diego, because we had two cars.  Ah, now I understand, it’s the result of a conscious choice.  This makes it easier to live with. 

Random thoughts:  Henry might be left-handed; Henry tasted his first Jamba Juice this week (with his love of fruit, easy to see he would like these); there are several pay phones in both cities, a strange site; 

Klawock School District Student Enrollment:  2001 = 190, 2011 = 136

High School Graduates:  2001 = 11, 2011 = 11

Teacher Ratio:  2001 = 14:1, 2011 = 8:1!

Monday, September 12, 2011        Whoa, what is going on:  another sunny day dawns, our third In a row!  Awesome!  The temperature actually hit 68 yesterday, and may do the same today!  We’ve lost our blanket of clouds, which means the overnight temperature is dropping below 50, but that’s just fine by us.

Either I have the only car alarm on in Craig and Klawock, or no one else locks their car.  Our Subaru always beeps when you use the remote to lock it, and I never hear anyone elses car beep.  I tried locking it on the inside of the door, to see if that would keep the alarm from going on, but it doesn’t.  I wonder what people think of us, that we lock our car everywhere we go?  It’s just habit, plus we do still have a few valuable things in the car that we haven’t unpacked, so that’s a good reason to lock it.  I’m wondering if I’m insulting people here. 

I took a series of pictures today of signs around Craig, and posted them in a new album on my Facebook page. 

Dinner at Ruth Ann’s, for a nice change, but it was too much food, the wait was too long, and it cost was too much, so not pleasant.  Plus, the last client Kathy had before I picked her up was sitting to tables away! 

Kathy still suffering from cold.

Here are some latitudes* and longitudes to help you all place where we are:

Craig, Alaska is:  55° 28' 35" N                           /  133° 8' 54" W Wismar Germany:  53° 54' 23" N                      /   11° 26' 33" E Pittsfield, Maine is:  44° 46' 57" N                    /  69° 23' 0" W Burlington, Vermont is:  44° 28' 32" N            /  73° 12' 45" W Bellingham, Washington is:  48° 45' 35" N    /  122° 29' 12" W Latitude is one factor in the climate of a place, but obviously just one of several.  I’m surprised that Bellingham is farther north than both Pittsfield and Burlington.

*the length of north–south latitude difference is about 69 miles.

A Sunny Warm Weekend, Finally!

Hey, here's some question for my followers.  The Blogger shows ten of you officially following this blog.  Does that mean you get an email notice each time I update it?  For those of you not signed up, how do you get notice I've update it, or do you?  I'm trying to understand better how this blogging works.

Anything I could do to make my blog easier to follow, or more interesting?  Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and I do very much appreciate the comments I've already received. 

Sunday, September 11, 2011

It’s hard to believe it’s been ten years since 9/11.  Our hearts go out to the family members who lost loved ones in the attack.  It’s still unimaginable to me, ten years later.  We’ve watched a couple of testimonials from first responders, and their stories make the attack so real, so amazing the actions they too to help others, without regard to their own safety.    

Kathy is nursing her cold, and sleeps in.  I get ready and go to St. John’s Catholic Church.  This is a beautiful church, and a friendly congregation.  We’ve met several people there.

It’s a beautiful day, the second in a row, a real treat.  Priest JP is leaving tomorrow to visit Ketchikan, and the area Bishop.  I leave before the final hymn, not feeling particularly social. 

Work continues on the Klawock River Causeway, now the other side.  It’s been under repairs since we arrived, and provides one of only three construction traffic signals currently on the island. 

Next stop, the grocery store, where we seem to end up nearly every day.  I need to pick up some Vick’s VapoRub, pseudo-pseudophed, hot chocolate, tea, and a mug, since we don’t have mugs, ugh.  Oh, and a Glamour and a Redbook, too.  Kathy has already seen this month’s Us and People, so have to expand out.  I also pick up the Weekend Edition of the Ketchikan News, and see Island News, the weekly that covers some news on Prince of Wales Island.  Wait, what’s this, the top headline reads “SEARHC Hires Wescott As Behavioral Health Clinician,” and there is Kathy’s smiling face!  Ha, what a nice surprise!  She will be tickled.  I buy two copies.  J 

It’s so nice not to have the dogs with me.  I just don’t trust them at our place, and they can’t get out to use the bushes, either.  So, I take them with me, and let them out often, and have them ready to go for a walk when I get the chance. 

Back to home.  It really is a beautiful day, must be above 60 degrees.  It really is a treat to see detail in the forests across the bay, instead of just the uniform dark green underexposed on the gray cloudy days, often with the clouds hanging well down from the ridges. 

I drive past home and continue down the road toward the spot I found hiking on Friday, to measure the distance to quantify how much exercise I’m getting.  I need badly to get back into regular exercise.  It seems the birds are also very happy to see sun:  I see more lots of robins along the road, and hear and see Stellar Jays scolding.  Jays can be a real pain, under some circumstances, or, they can be a cheerful reminder of family memories.  They represent something very familiar, our family camping trips on Palomar, and Yosemite. 

Kathy is feeling better, got more rest, and some sun.  She’s glad I’m back with medicine, tea, a mug, and magazines.  I get some lunch, and then take the dogs on a return hike to the spot we found on Friday, this time with binoculars.  It’s warmer, and the hill at the beginning seems longer and steeper, which is fine, since I’m after some real exercise.  We are going to hike quickly out, then leisurely home, since I think the return hill is steeper and longer coming home, and Lakota needs me to go slower.  Lots of water has dried up, but there are still some creeks running. 

The forest we cut through and the shore we reached on Friday seem quieter today, maybe because of the time of day.  I do spot otters seemingly watching us:  they poke their heads above water, nothing more, and seem to be looking right at us.  They won’t come closer, and they won’t show any more than just their heads.  Bummer.  At least I can see more detail with my binoculars.  The shoreline is very quiet, just one kingfisher.  The ever-present seagulls are on the point of land at the mouth of the river.  There must be close to 100, spread out.  I’m not a sea and shore bird expert, but there may be three, even four or five different species.  I do spy two groups of Canada Geese, too, grazing in the grass, just apart from the seagulls.  I hear a bald eagle scream, but never see one.      

The walk back is nice.  We take it slow, enjoying the sun and the quiet. 

Saturday, September 10, 2011     A beautiful, sunny day dawns, wow!  We sleep in, Kathy needs her sleep to fight of this cold.  The Quigley’s both left on Thursday, Kenny coming home Monday and Susan on the 22^nd.  I need to pay them for this week and next.

We take the dogs for a walk, and they end up chasing salmon on the creek up the road.  It keeps getting warmer, and Quinlan has rolled in a maggoty decomposed salmon, so we wash the dogs in the garden hose, their first since we left San Diego!  They are all set to get their nails trimmed, and Lakota will be cut back, next Friday.  I brushed the carpet, literally, to pick up the dog hair, then vacuumed yesterday. 

There are no snakes on POW, or poison oak.  You haven’t read anything from me on mosquitos either:  whether it’s the very wet summer or what, they have not been around, and we keep our windows open at night, with no screens.  I’m sure this lack of the state bird is only a temporary situation, but we’ll enjoy it while we can.

We are back, and get a text from Brady, ready to Skype us in to Henry’s birthday party.  He is ready to blow out the candles.  We tried skyping once before, but they could not hear us, even though we could hear them.  Unfortunately, we have one issue after another.  The picture is fine, but it’s very frustrating to me not to be able to talk back and forth.  We try speaker on cellphones, but our connection comes and goes, adding to my frustration.  I see Pat and Mark and Dan and Lynn, and Brady and Kelli and Faith, and Mom and Dad, and Henry of course.  Brady works very hard to fix the problems.  Finally he tries something else, but the pictures are stamp-sized, so far from ideal.  We see Henry get a cupcake from his birthday cupcake cake, and we see him ride push and ride the Tonka dumptruck we bought for him, so fun! 

Oh, I thought of another national brand on the island:  Wells Fargo Bank.  I guess they truly are everywhere.  Two more things in common with home:  blackouts, and having to boil water!  J 

Sunshine and Watersheds

Friday, September 9, 2011

Kathy takes the car, since she must travel to the Hydaburg office each Friday.  It’s a nice sunny day, so I and the dogs are not trapped in our apartment this time.  I do some work, then head off for a nice long walk up, farther out Port Saint Nicholas Road.  It’s uphill to start, then levels off.  I come to the spot where someone slipped off the road and crashed down an embankment into the low trees.  The road is muddy along here, and with the heavy rains we had, I can see how this might happen, especially at night, and then being surprised by a deer or a bear crossing the road, it’s even easier to understand.  They had a nice cushy landing in the alders, probably didn’t even get hurt or damage the car.

We keep walking, enjoying the chance for a nice long and dry walk.  There is no sound but the occasional little waterfall cascading down from the hill on the left, flowing along the road.  These flow along the road, then come to an underground pipe and flow to the inlet on our right.  We've had plenty of wet walks, that's for sure, mostly down to the new bridge over the creek that has many many dying salmon, swimming in place, noses pointed upstream.  It’s too late for wildflowers, and the trees are silent, no birdsong.  I can hear seagulls screaming once in a while:  we are close to the waters edge, though we can’t see it through the dense forest.  We come to a long downhill section ( not realizing how steep it is until the return trip!).  I find gap and a trail in the forest and we walk through to the shore.  I’m hoping by sitting quietly by the shore we will see some birds and wildlife. 

The water is very still, glassy, very picturesque against the forested mountain across the way.  The bright sun is a nice reprieve from all of the clouds and rain we've had almost constantly.  Shores here, by the way, are always made of rocks.  I read there is only one sandy beach on the entire Prince of Wales island.  Also, there is a twenty-something foot swing in tides where we are, twice a day, and the trees grow very close to the high tide line, so there are not long stretches of shore to explore. 

I hear a winter wren, and stand still, getting a glimpse of him when he inevitably hops out of the dense trees to get a better look at us.  These birds are evenly brown, no other color or distinguishing marks, but I’m happy to see any bird at this point, and their habits are fun, chatting to themselves as they examine branches for insects, hopping around from branch to branch and tree to tree.  Wrens always seem very busy, and almost cheery at the same time.

We get to the shore, and immediately bother a kingfisher with our presence.  There habits here are the same as in San Diego, very skittish, and not shy about letting you know you disturbed them, calling loudly as they flee down the beach away from you.  I appreciate this habit:  if they flew away silently, I might not even know they were there.  I see and hear them often, and enjoy their blue and white color and crested head; I wonder why the other famous fish-catcher, the osprey, is nowhere to be found.  I’m sure they inhabit Alaska, and I would think the island is prime habitat for them, but haven’t seen one yet. 

We are sitting quietly by a couple of big downed trees, and I suddenly notice a shorebird at a creek mouth 30 feet away, dipping, but it’s not a Dipper, or at least not like one I’ve ever seen.  It is the right size, but the color is way off, light brown on top, white below, but the size and habits sure seem like Dipper.  It is keeping and eye on is, but doesn’t move from it’s spot, just keeps dipping.  It seems to be a young bird:  do Dippers look like this when young, then turn brown all over as they mature?  I wish I’d brought my binoculars with me.  

We walk the shoreline, and find a backbone and maybe a shoulder bone, all picked clean.  It's way too big and substantial to be a salmon; I'm guessing maybe a seal?   I spy something breaking the surface of the water, maybe 30 yards off shore.  It's too far away to see detail, but doesn't look enough or act like a duck, so I'm guessing it's an otter, cool!  He seems to be watching us.  He dives and then surfaces 15 or so feet away, only showing his head above water.  He keeps doing this, as we sit quietly.  He never comes closer, so after ten minutes we move on up the shoreline.  He seems to follow us a bit, then disappears.  Again, wish I'd brought my binoculars.  I'll definitely have to come back here, better prepared.

Kathy comes home a little early.   She's still recovering from her cold.  

Thursday I went to the meeting of the Prince of Wales Watershed Association.  This is a group is in the planning stages, with a mission to educate the public about the value of healthy, intact watershed on Prince of Wales Island.  There are groups like this all over Alaska.  The National Forest Foundation is stewarding this effort.  A coordinator has been hired, and now bylaws and an interim board are being formed.  This was my second meeting, and I came away as an interim board member, very cool.  I am sure my experience in nonprofits and as a member of the Serra Mesa Planning Group for five years will be useful, and it will be great to be involved, especially with a group just getting started.  I also met two key people involved in resource protection on the island, so this was a very successful meeting.

CAUTION, LEAVING THE "NO WHINING ZONE," you have been warned.  :-(

The place we are staying is gorgeous, even with the cloudy rainy weather.  It would be great, for a vacation, or even a summer house.  However, it's apartment living, with the owner's daughter and kids and boyfriend behind us, with thin walls.  The TV audio goes up and down about 30 decibels between stations, and we are very sensitive to sounds traveling through walls, so that's a pain (we do, however, get lots of channels on the dish, and rarely any loss of signal despite the clouds and rain, very nice).  The cell reception is sooo frustrating!  We get a call, and then it drops, right in the middle of a sentence.  It's useless to try and call someone.  Fortunately texting works much better, but not perfectly, and my phone keypad takes me about three times longer than it should to type a message, ugh.  On top of all this, we have to drive about four miles over a gravel road, half of it filled with potholes, to get somewhere with better reception.  They are working on improving the road, but with the constant rain, it sometimes seems like the project takes two steps forward and two back. 

Oh, in the Took It For Granted Department, the kitchen issue leaves a lot to be desired.  They did let us move a microwave up to our room, but you all know that is better, but not best.  

So, between just having our own place, having more than one room, having our own kitchen, being able to cook a full, home-cooked meal, we are just going feel like we are in heaven when this is over!  On top of that, we will be a five minute drive from Kathy's SEARHC office.  Two weeks down, four to go!  Come on, October!

Check Out Our Alaska Plates!

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

It rained through the morning and into the afternoon, but not heavy.  Last night, it cleared up in the evening, and we saw the moon rise over the mountains across the inlet.  It was beautiful, and reminded us how few times it’s been clear enough to see this since we got here. 

The goal today was to get AK driver’s licenses and license plates.  The bad news, AK DMV here is only open four hours and only twice a week, on Wednesdays and Fridays; good news, there was only three people in front of me when I got there, even though only one person works the office!  Ha, there’s a huge positive for living in a very small town!

So, first is the driver’s license.  Not so fast:  they want my current license, my passport, and my social security card!  What?!  If I have that, it’s still packed away, for another month.  Who does Alaska think they are?  California, with 33 million people and the eighth largest economy in the world, doesn’t require a Social Security card, for pete’s sake!  Oh well, can’t get that today.  Let’s try the license plates.  Keep in mind this is a small office in the corner of the first floor of the two-story Craig Police Department building.  All I need, luckily, is my current registration and $100, and I’ve got both.  She looks over my application, and then pulls a set of license plates out from under the counter!  I’m going to walk away with a set of plates, cool!  No waiting for them to be mailed from Juneau.  They are the old style, plane yellow, but they’ll do the job, and make us more officially Alaskans!  GFY 153:  I see Goofy’s batting average in the cartoon where he played for the Yankees for ten games.  (As Cookie ‘Chainsaw’ Randolph would say, “Are you just MAKING that up?!”  YES!  J)  They do have some really cool license plates, but those have to be ordered over the Internet, after one already has plates, so we’ll think about that next.

Next, the dogs have been very, very patient while I ran errands and hoped the rain would stop or slow down, so it’s time to go take them for a walk.  I head to Cemetery Island, our favorite place to walk them.  It’s always deserted, which means the dogs can go off-leash, which they love.  (They always stick to the trails and stick close, so don’t molest the wildlife.)  The rain has slowed somewhat, but continues.  Driving in, all we see are the 15 or so Canada Geese grazing on one of the ballfields.  I continue past them and drive to the spot where the long trail starts.  They deserve a nice long walk, and the red alders provide fair protection from the rain, so we walk the entire trail, find it is a deadend, strangely, and turn around.  Lakota is lagging behind, so I know we’ve had a good walk. 

Back at the car, and it’s time to put the new plates on.  Away go the paper plates from the dealer, and I don’t like their frames either, so I take them off.  The new plates look a little bare, but still better, and so cool, we are Alaskans!   I’ll find some nice frames from a local or regional nonprofit organization I’d rather help promote.     

It has been a pretty good day for birds, relatively speaking.  Sittting at the DMV parking lot waiting for them to open, a nearby tree was visited by not one, but three Stellar’s Blue Jays.  I’ve seen a couple of these, and heard a couple, but this is my first sustained look at them.  They mean mountains and forests and camping to me.  They were almost pests on Palomar Mountain, our family’s favorite local place to camp for decades and generations. 

I pick up Kathy for lunch, and we open an account at our local credit union, Tongass Federal.

Okay, we are in Alaska, right, land of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, pumping billions of gallons of oil south to a port.  Alaska residents get a check each year from the oil they sell.  So, why am I paying a constant $4.519 a gallon, with no movement at all since we got here?  Hmm, must be that darned island syndrome factor.  Luckily we don’t have to drive far for the most part. 

Here is a little information on the impact of the pipeline to Alaskans, taken from Wikipedia:

Since the completion of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System in 1977, the government of the state of Alaska has been reliant on taxes paid by oil producers and shippers. Prior to 1976, Alaska's personal income tax rate was 14.5 percent—the highest in the United States. The gross state product was $8 billion, and Alaskans earned $5 billion in personal income. Thirty years after the pipeline began operating, the state had no personal income tax, the gross state product was $39 billion, and Alaskans earned $25 billion in personal income. Alaska moved from the most heavily taxed state to the most tax-free state. 

It now delivers about 700,000 barrels of oil a day.  Each barrel produces about 25 gallons of gas!  Again, why am I paying even more than San Diego is paying?!  I suppose I shouldn’t complain, since I won’t be paying any state income tax, and may get a check from the state after we’ve been here a year. 

The thermometer has been a very short one, too, which is nice.  It has varied little outside of between 51 degrees and 58 degrees.  This works for us:  one habit we’ve been able to maintain is sleeping with at least one window open, enjoying the fresh and cool air. 

All of Alaska has the same area code, 907; all Alaska, except the extreme western islands of the Aleutian chain, is in the same time zone, which seems like a stretch for a state that is 2,261 miles wide (it’s also 1,420 miles long). 

Another factoid:  half of the 710,231 residents of Alaska live within the Anchorage Metropolitan Area, making the most sparsely populated state in the Union, on average, actually even more sparsely populated.    

By the way, I did find a national franchise on the island, when I thought there was none.  I’d ask people for their guesses, but I don’t think anyone would get it without lots of clues:  it’s NAPA Auto Parts.

Labor Day Weekend, Pt. II: Silent Crows, Really!

Monday, Labor Day, Henry’s First Birthday! 

It's hard to believe Henry is one year old today.  Wow, time has really flown by.  It's even harder to believe we are 2,500 miles away. 

It's cloudy again today but not raining.  We decide to skip a BBQ by the Island Air Service and stay in.  We’ve both got good books from the library, and are deep into them.  We also get  a nice selection of cable TV channels, but even that gets old.  I just finished a Jack Reacher novel, from 2010, and it was a page-turner, as usual.  I think I may have read all of them now.  

Around 11 AM I need a break from reading and some fresh air, and take the dogs for a drive.  We head further out the Pt St Nick Road, looking for the Craig Reservoir, thinking this remote spot might be good for birds and animal watching.  It’s not so far, but we get to a substantial locked gate, not so surprising given it’s the water supply for a city.  There is a prominent sign announcing this, noting no admittance without authorization, and that it’s a federal offense to continue.  Oh, and by the way, just for extra measure, the sign was paid for by the Department of Homeland Security.  Oh, and it’s six days from the tenth anniversary of 9/11:  I thought about going in anyway.  I’ve got two golden retrievers with me, and permission to visit the reservoir from the City Manager, sort of; we are way, way out in the boonies.  If by some wild chance someone saw me and called me on it, I’ve got an explanation.  But, I can read English, so I decide better.  I park the car here, let the dogs out, and head off in another direction.

 

I find a road and head up, hoping I’ll be able to get a good look at the reservoir from above and a distance.  I’m also wondering why I have a desire to see this reservoir, wondering if I’m still under the Dry San Diego spell, still grasping at the chance to see any freshwater, dammed or wild.  Why is it so important now, to see a reservoir with a four-foot dam, when I’m literally surrounded by inland waters and flowing creeks and waterfalls?  Hmmm. 

The road runs through old fashioned clearcuts, now crowded with red alder and young evergreens.  I hear a bird, and spot a winter wren.  I spy a single robin.  I'm hoping for a glimpse of a bear, with the low plant growth and the great views I have across the valley.  I hear a new bird, and see juncos!  Anywhere else they would be common, but here, they are an exciting new species for me.  A single raven cuts across the sky, calling his warning of intruders to other unseen ravens. 

Red Alder leaves and yellow cedar sprays

We keep climbing the road, hoping for a look at the reservoir.  It's obvious finally that the road goes farther than I expected past the gate, and hooks around a mountain, no reservoir in sight.  We come across a pickup sitting in the middle of the road up ahead.  I haven't heard any gunfire, don't know the hunting seasons, but decide to turn around anyway, keeping the silence and wilderness experience for both of us. 

We return to the car and drive back to the main road.  I find a patch of forest cut away to the river, and go exploring.  There are a couple of hundred seagulls squawking away and dining on dead salmon, having a feast.  A group of five crows fly in, another bird that, anywhere else would be common, but not here.  Very oddly, they land in the trees near me, never making a sound.  They fly down to a log to dine on salmon, but remain absolutely quiet.  Quiet crows - am I in the Twilight Zone?!  Who has ever heard of silent crows?  

I can see out beyond the mouth of the river, over the gravel bars where the seagulls are congregated, across the inlet to where we are staying.   

Kelli is posting updates on Henry’s day.  They have gone to the zoo, and he had his first soft serve ice cream!

Sunday, September 04, 2011              Rain off and on all night.  It started yesterday evening. 

I spy the otter again, swimming just offshore.  Seeing this happy-go-lucky swimmer always brings a smile to my face.  He always seems to be having fun, swimming so effortlessly, bobbing up and down, diving under the surface in one spot and coming up in a random, unpredictable spot.  The water is often glassy, but even if it’s a little roughed up, his surfacing always sends off the concentric ripples, which point right to him.
    

Coincidentally, got a text from Kelli around 10:30 PM, saying they had a creepy mystery.  We texted back and forth, tried talking on the telephone and that didn’t work.  About three minutes into this, we started hearing something, or someone, screaming.  We got up and listened at the window, and it sounded to me like bears fighting.  It continued off and on for the next half an hour; the more we heard it, the more it sounded like one bear, in distress, like it was caught or injured or something.  There is nothing but thick forest to the left of our place, and it was dark and rainy, so no way for us to go investigate.  It would stop for ten or fifteen minutes, then start up again, for five minutes or so.  It finally stopped.  I either had a dream or it woke me up early in the morning.

One year ago today, Kathy and I and Kirsten and Jared were all focused on Kelli, as she went in to labor.  We all went to the Birthing Center about 5 PM.  All went well until about 2:00 AM on Sunday, when the baby’s heartrate began nose-diving whenever Kelli pushed.  The midwife told her to stop, and called the paramedics.  A half an hour later, baby Henry was born via c-section.  He is the most precious baby I’ve ever seen, and that has continued as he has grown.  Tomorrow he turns one year old, which hardly seems possible.  Who knew at the time of his birth that Kathy and I would be 2500 miles away for his first birthday?  I could not have imagined this was even possible, and still hardly can:  we have missed his last two months of growth and happy smiles, and now will miss his first birthday.

We went to church this morning at St. John’s By the Sea in Klawock.  It was made more special by the baptism of Olivia, a tiny baby.  The Priest gave a wonderful mass about this new member of the church.  Several lines from the hymn "God of Day and God of Darkness" struck me as especially important:

.........
When the Sun of peace and justice
fills the earth with radiant light.
Still the nations curse the darkness,
still the rich oppress the poor.
Still the earth is bruised and broken
by the ones who still want more.
Come and wake us from our sleeping,
so our hearts cannot ignore
all your people lost and broken,
all your children at our door...........

It's Raining, Again

Dock at Quigley's

Saturday, September 3     It rained most of the night and continues to do so.  I suppose the day I stop writing about the rain is the day I'm really used to it, but I can't imagine that day.  I know, I live in a rainforest, but knowing that doesn't mean I'm adjusted yet!  There is certainly no lack of signs surrounding us, too, sitting in our room or out walking or driving, from the many inland ocean waters to the waterfalls even along the roads, to the many running creeks, to the lakes big and small.  Until the time this sinks in, I'll keep posting that it's raining when it's raining.  :-)

It’s amazing there can be so much rain, and the roads and trails and buildings survive.  The rain at this time of the year is not nearly the most we will see, they tell me.  Like a real northern winter makes the spring much more special, the rain makes the non-rain days special, too.  

Quigley's, front, facing view of dock, above

I brought up the microwave yesterday, which Susan suggested we do, so Kathy made oatmeal for breakfast.  Afterward I was enjoying the views out our windows and saw a Great Blue Heron flying by along the shore.  These are very tall and skinny, and pretty common in San Diego, but not so here.  This is the second one I’ve seen.  It's so interesting thinking about the birds the two places have in common and those they don’t:  the heron can’t have a lick of fat on it, and seems frail and unprepared for living in Alaska.  Obviously they don’t overwinter here, but even so, of all the birds POW and San Diego has in common, I would not have guessed this would be one of them.  It is a fish-loving bird, so that factor certainly makes sense.

Still enjoying the rain-soaked view out the window, I spotted an otter swimming along the shoreline.  The otter is one of my favorite animals, because they are the most playful animals, and because they define wildness for me.  Seeing one makes me remember the many Walt Disney and Marty Stouffer programs in which they steal the show.  I had never seen one in the wild until coming to Alaska.  He breaks the surface, then throws his back above the surface and dives.  He does this several times, then disappears under the water, headed toward the dock and empty fish pens.  I keep searching for him to come up.  I’m about to give up when I seem him on the other side of the fish pens.  He seems to be sniffing the air, about 15 feet off the shore, then heads toward where a seagull is pecking at something.  He stops and sniffs several times on his way to the shore.  The gull flies off, and the otter makes the shore and picks up a large salmon, and triumphantly swims away, then dives.  Now I know they eat salmon, and, although I don’t know how long that salmon has been there, it was obviously dead.    

Quigley's, Backside.  Our apartment is on the other side, looking onto the inlet below the mountain ridge.

Friday, September 2     The dogs and I run into Les Nelson today, the Craig Water Plant Operator, the plant being just across the road from the Quigley’s.  Nice guy.  He told me the current Public Works Director, his boss, lives right next door to the plant, where the house is for sale.  He tells me the water supply dam is farther out this road, and is about four feet tall.  We had previously met John Bolling, the Craig City Manager, at one of the dinners, and he'd told us one of his plans was to raise that dam two feet.  I had to tell him about San Diego's plans to raise the 220' tall San Vicente Dam another 117 feet!    Les also told me LeAn Wortman runs the adjacent hatchery.  She drives a blue SUV and is glad to give tours, so I will be looking for her car. I'm looking forward to a tour.

After talking with Les for a bit, the dogs and I continue our walk up the road.  I take them over to where we have seen the young bear twice, but they don't seem to notice:  the rains most likely washing all scent away.  The fireweed is all bloomed out, and the thick cotton seeds that came after the magenta flowers have also blown away, leaving many clusters of tall naked spikes.  

We saw a big Dobbie, and two Pointer-types, and the barky dust mop from two doors houses, all lose and all come out to let us know not to step too close to 'their property.'  When they do all meet, they are all fine, except Lakota, who doesn't make friends quickly.  

I stop to take pictures of a dump truck left in the weeds, it's last license tag showing 1994.  Turning back to continue the walk home, I realize there is a hawk sitting on the rail of the Alaska sawmill just off the road, also in the weeds.  It's staring at me, from about 20 feet off the road.  It's the first hawk I've seen in Alaska!  It sits very calmly while I take several pictures.  I risk moving to a better spot, and he follows me with his eyes, but remains still, despite the dogs roaming around at my feet. I can hardly wait to find out what kind it is. 

My first Alaska hawk, not sure what kind yet.

Doing research back in the room, the hawk was not a Northern Goshawk, or a Red-tailed, but it looked too big to be a Sharp Shinned Hawk.  I've seen these before, too, and they are pretty much smaller versions of a Cooper's Hawk, and this one doesn't remind me of the Cooper's.  I am really missing my bird books, which, along with all my other reference books, are securely packed away, with most of our clothes:  we never expected to be here five weeks and not be unpacked and settled in.  To repeat, moving one last time and unpacking our stuff will be one big day of celebration!

September 1, 2011, Thursday             Well, we have survived our first month in Alaska.  Kathy has completed four weeks at SEARHC.  With these milestones behind us, we still don't feel like we are settled.  That will have to wait until we move into our permanent place, unload our two crates, and put our own things out.  That will be a real day of celebration!

Rain off and on.  We see the bear again, the one just up the road, as we leave to get Kathy to work.   

I make the rounds to the utilities, opening accounts, one for propane, one for diesel fuel, one for electricity and Internet. Last issue will be for renters insurance.

My Dad found out his tumor is benign, thank God.  He'll have it removed in the next two weeks or so.  It's very small at this point, so not bothering him.  

Port St. Nicholas Road, about 3.5 mile, headed out of Craig, AK, to our home at 5.3 miles