The continuing saga . . . .
Back to camp after my Toklet run today. This is not one of my favorite times - the room is small and dark - but I will put down today's events. I readied myself early today, I don't want to be rushed. This practice of punching a time clock is hard for me to get into the habit of doing. But if ever an old dog was to learn a new trick I guess it is me today. I leave the WAC with 22 soon to be new friends. I have a new job - I am now driving a big green bus - no more short bus stuff for this flatlander! I will go 68 miles into the park today. As my new friends climb aboard with their canvas tote bags and small backpacks - some with tinkerbell on the front, some with polar tech on them, some in camo pants and some in sweat pants. They all have that look of excitement and couresity, should we do this or not?? I have decided to tell them all that this is my first day and that I am very nervous. They all tend to look at me with just a little fear and this, I have discovered, gives me the upper hand. I can see it in their faces - are they sure they want to go through with this - but I have them - they have paid their good hard-earned money and they are on vacation. The security of their recliner can't save them now. They are mine and I will do with them as I please. So, I do as normal, I lie - and I do it with suvch honesty in my eyes that at first they laugh and then the look comes over them so the only thing for me to do is lie some more. Oh what pleasure this gives me, so into my tongue-tied speech I go. This adds a touch more of realisms and I hook them even more. But by the time I get to the part about no standing or hanging out the window, no smoking or drinking of alcoholic beverages and that all try tables must be in the upright and locked position, there comes a collective sign from all of the true believers.
This is my third trip on the big bus and I gain more confidence with each trip. My speal gets better with each trip. It is bright today with some clouds down low but the high one, I fear, will hide herself from me today. We press on - seven and a half hours out and back today with only one way in and one way out. A lynx has come to the road to hunt for snowshoe hares and I am lucky to be rounding the corner and he is sitting there. He is almost silver in color, its' guard hairs are tipped in black, a shaggy black streaked silver ruff frames its' oval face. Long delicate whiskers extend from either side of its pink nose and tufts top its' ears. This is a rare sighting, for the lunx is very elusive and hard to spot, but the snowshoe hare are in a boom cycle right now. This happens every eight to ten years. Their normal numbers are 25 to 50 per square mile but in this book cycle, their numbers are 2500 per square mile. Of all the creatures in Alaska, noe are more dependent on the rabbit than is the lynx. They live on rabbit, follows the rabbit, thinks rabbit, tastes like rabbit and increases in numbers with them. Failure to find them and the die of starvation. The law of good and plenty. Some of my new friends are shocked by my analagy, but then they are mostly city people - townies at best - and they have not the sense of the woods as I do. After all, I am Alaskan, for the next 100 days anyway, and with being Alaskan comes that deeper knowledge and understanding of how the animals and woods work and live and die together. I guess I'm Alaskan, my driver's license says my address is P.O. Box 707, Milepost 237.8 Park Highway, Denali, Alaska, so I must be or my address would be something like Hill Road. I know one thing for sure, I miss my wife and family, my friends, my home, my dog and laughter. Laughter is such a sweet nectur. When you have it, it is bland and clear, with no taste or odor, but when you don't have it there is such a need. I am a junky in need of a laughter fix in the owrst way. My eyes are dry, they have had no tears of laughter for such a long time - not the kind of laughter I remember from the Hill Road address. I will need to learn how to control this havit which I have had for so long, for I fear that I will find no fix here. But late at night I pretend that I am sleeping and I pretend I am driving, then I get the needle and syringe filled with laughter and take it all in - a high washes over me and I am covered in "think I should, wish you would, think I will" and my mouth moves left and right and up and down and on and on she goes - she never stops and laughter slips in under the covers and I am warm again. Last night I spent the whole night with the memories of laughter - with Linda and all the laughter we share - with my girls and great to-ta-too performances and tapioca seeds hunting and other schemes - with fun times spent with my son-in-law, Bill. The laughter of my friends I miss more than I could ever have imagined. Dave & Ron - Jude and the old boys - Charlie and Joe - Jimmy - Olie with his great belly laugh that go along with the stories of his granddaughters, which only he can tell - the Shriver boys. I miss our special kind of laughter on Saturday mornings with our pick-up games, our spring fling to Johns - that was a great fix for there was laughter from the time we left until the pretzel alphabet making on the way back, even though Purvis was the only one to see Z & S. And Tob. If Tob was here I would need no other fix because although we have laughed the deep laugh together for many, many years, laughter is not all that we share. As much as I miss that drug called laughter and as empty as it can feel inside at times, there is such a beauty and mystic about this place, with its Great Mountain, the glaciers, the grizzles and moose sleeping ten feet from my front door. I pray that the inspiring nature that envelops us in this magical place will sustain me for just 100 more days. . . .
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Friday and a day off!
Didn't have a run today so it was back to the laundry. It is getting easier now that I have just about all my clothes the same color!! Talked to Linda this afternoon, she is excited to pick Hollie up tonight. Hollie and Bill will both be home during the next two weeks. Well here is some more of my writings. Hope all is going well with everyone. I miss you all.
. . . I am back from the road. It was not as I had hoped, for my speeches weren't needed, my knowledge of dates and places weren't needed, nor my speech on the rivers, creeks, mountains and the animals or the birds. I was sad most of the way in - but then it happened. The one question that they all ask and I had been ready since we started to answer it. I had practiced saying these words over and over. I was ripe with anticipation and skilled to the max. It would flow off my tongue as though I were an opera singer. "How long have you been doing this?" one of them asked, and the words rolled like a quarter out of an old slot machine ..."Well, let me see, my first trip down this road was in 2003".....then it was over. They wanted no more from me. I was good for only one thing - to get them to Tattler Creek. Now I know how the Sunday funnies feel when they have been read and put in the furnace room to be used to rap fish guts in after you return from your next fishing trip. All that practicing for just one half truth. I had so much to give and all they want to know is how long I've been doing this. So I took off my headset off when I see one of them noding off and another with his eyes closed. No, I said to myself, I won't even tell them I am Amish if they should ask later - they had blown it. There would be no sharp wit from me and the vast amount of knowledge that had been memorized. No names of rare birds that I had learned, no biology info that I had studied so hard on - and my Athabascan was perfect - now they wouldn't hear one word of it from me. I just drove and all I could think of was I am Amish, I am, and with a deep breath I said Teklanika like I was a true Alaskan. I thought, maybe they will sense just from the way I had said Teklanika that I was ripe with info on all matters of the universe and especially on the Park. So, with a renewed inner confidence, I put my headset back on and I was ready for anything that they would ask - except how to spell Teklanika!
A new dawn and todays morning was bright. The light that can sneak under the door shows a host of spruce needles and apen leaf bits that had globbed to the bottom of my wet shoes. They probably think that they're going to get to stay inside out of the weather, but I have news for them. I plan to take the Monahan to them when I get in tonight. It's been eleven days without water for anything - no showers close by - no bathrooms - people are getting sick with Norwak disease - but the water source is under 4 feet of ice and the ground under that is froze harder than a whore's heart. This March was the coldest ever on record, but my good luck, which seems to be following me so far, has brought warmer temperatures to this land. This sickness I will not get for I have the luck and a man with the luck has no fear of such things. This day holds great challenges for me for today is my day to break trail. I have rolled out early - ten till four - it will take me an hour and a half to get to where I can shower and get back. But that is ok for I have not slept well. The birds outside the window chirp their song of rest until about 1:30 a.m. and then start in again about 3:30 a.m. with their morning chirps. I don't think Illinois birds can work that many hours in a row with only 2 hours sleep. My thoughts have been on my first run into the wilderness - a place that is like no other on this earth. My babblings cannot describe my new place. I know why the sun will not go down, because it is just as awestruck as I am and doesn't want to stop looking at its beauty no more than I do. But the sun is bigger and stronger than I am so it can take in more of this place than I, for I cannot sleep for just two hours a day only to rise and look at this beauty for another day. I need sleep and my sleep of last night was short, just like that of the sun. IF??? If only I were as strong as the sun - oh, but I will work with what I've got and make the best of it. It is 7:00 a.m. and the wind is out of the south. I have this flutter in my belly. I have had it before and I know what it is. It's fear - a fear of the unknown and the fear of failure and the fear of embarrassment and the fear of being alone. I know the cure. I have opened my mouth and held my nose and licked the spoon clean of this cure before and I know what the name of the cure is - it is "youcandoit" So it's down the road I go and for the first part of the trail I am.........I am............I am............I don't know the words. If I did I could let them speak but they would be pale and drab in comparison to this place so I'll be silent. This place is touched with magic. This must be the part of heaven that God has said, "Ok, you can have a little peek." The farther I go the better the cure and I will put this fear back in my left pocket where I keep it, because in the left pocket it gets very few chances to escape for the left pocket never gets used. The road is dusty but it adds to the mystic of this place. Seventeen miles in as if it were no big deal and an almost white Momma grizzly and her year-old cub are digging for roots in a creek bed alongside the road. The cub is doing more dodging of the dirt and rocks that Momma is throwing. I think back to Bubba Sue & RJ digging in the ditch aside our road. One would dig and the other would stand behind and watch, blinking its eyes and trying to dodge the dirt that was being thrown between the legs of the other - and then they would switch places. And so did the grizzlies. They were no more than 30 yards off the road and they didn't even stop to look at this mover of people which had come to see them dig for dinner. So I whispered softly so that only their spirits could hear me. Not even I could hear my whisper. Only they would know my words - only they would know their meaning. Then, just as I whispered, they stopped digging, raised their heads and their tiny black eyes looked right at me and me only. I smiled all over because they understood we have corn planted behind the house. And this is just the first 17 of 120 miles to go.
. . . I am back from the road. It was not as I had hoped, for my speeches weren't needed, my knowledge of dates and places weren't needed, nor my speech on the rivers, creeks, mountains and the animals or the birds. I was sad most of the way in - but then it happened. The one question that they all ask and I had been ready since we started to answer it. I had practiced saying these words over and over. I was ripe with anticipation and skilled to the max. It would flow off my tongue as though I were an opera singer. "How long have you been doing this?" one of them asked, and the words rolled like a quarter out of an old slot machine ..."Well, let me see, my first trip down this road was in 2003".....then it was over. They wanted no more from me. I was good for only one thing - to get them to Tattler Creek. Now I know how the Sunday funnies feel when they have been read and put in the furnace room to be used to rap fish guts in after you return from your next fishing trip. All that practicing for just one half truth. I had so much to give and all they want to know is how long I've been doing this. So I took off my headset off when I see one of them noding off and another with his eyes closed. No, I said to myself, I won't even tell them I am Amish if they should ask later - they had blown it. There would be no sharp wit from me and the vast amount of knowledge that had been memorized. No names of rare birds that I had learned, no biology info that I had studied so hard on - and my Athabascan was perfect - now they wouldn't hear one word of it from me. I just drove and all I could think of was I am Amish, I am, and with a deep breath I said Teklanika like I was a true Alaskan. I thought, maybe they will sense just from the way I had said Teklanika that I was ripe with info on all matters of the universe and especially on the Park. So, with a renewed inner confidence, I put my headset back on and I was ready for anything that they would ask - except how to spell Teklanika!
A new dawn and todays morning was bright. The light that can sneak under the door shows a host of spruce needles and apen leaf bits that had globbed to the bottom of my wet shoes. They probably think that they're going to get to stay inside out of the weather, but I have news for them. I plan to take the Monahan to them when I get in tonight. It's been eleven days without water for anything - no showers close by - no bathrooms - people are getting sick with Norwak disease - but the water source is under 4 feet of ice and the ground under that is froze harder than a whore's heart. This March was the coldest ever on record, but my good luck, which seems to be following me so far, has brought warmer temperatures to this land. This sickness I will not get for I have the luck and a man with the luck has no fear of such things. This day holds great challenges for me for today is my day to break trail. I have rolled out early - ten till four - it will take me an hour and a half to get to where I can shower and get back. But that is ok for I have not slept well. The birds outside the window chirp their song of rest until about 1:30 a.m. and then start in again about 3:30 a.m. with their morning chirps. I don't think Illinois birds can work that many hours in a row with only 2 hours sleep. My thoughts have been on my first run into the wilderness - a place that is like no other on this earth. My babblings cannot describe my new place. I know why the sun will not go down, because it is just as awestruck as I am and doesn't want to stop looking at its beauty no more than I do. But the sun is bigger and stronger than I am so it can take in more of this place than I, for I cannot sleep for just two hours a day only to rise and look at this beauty for another day. I need sleep and my sleep of last night was short, just like that of the sun. IF??? If only I were as strong as the sun - oh, but I will work with what I've got and make the best of it. It is 7:00 a.m. and the wind is out of the south. I have this flutter in my belly. I have had it before and I know what it is. It's fear - a fear of the unknown and the fear of failure and the fear of embarrassment and the fear of being alone. I know the cure. I have opened my mouth and held my nose and licked the spoon clean of this cure before and I know what the name of the cure is - it is "youcandoit" So it's down the road I go and for the first part of the trail I am.........I am............I am............I don't know the words. If I did I could let them speak but they would be pale and drab in comparison to this place so I'll be silent. This place is touched with magic. This must be the part of heaven that God has said, "Ok, you can have a little peek." The farther I go the better the cure and I will put this fear back in my left pocket where I keep it, because in the left pocket it gets very few chances to escape for the left pocket never gets used. The road is dusty but it adds to the mystic of this place. Seventeen miles in as if it were no big deal and an almost white Momma grizzly and her year-old cub are digging for roots in a creek bed alongside the road. The cub is doing more dodging of the dirt and rocks that Momma is throwing. I think back to Bubba Sue & RJ digging in the ditch aside our road. One would dig and the other would stand behind and watch, blinking its eyes and trying to dodge the dirt that was being thrown between the legs of the other - and then they would switch places. And so did the grizzlies. They were no more than 30 yards off the road and they didn't even stop to look at this mover of people which had come to see them dig for dinner. So I whispered softly so that only their spirits could hear me. Not even I could hear my whisper. Only they would know my words - only they would know their meaning. Then, just as I whispered, they stopped digging, raised their heads and their tiny black eyes looked right at me and me only. I smiled all over because they understood we have corn planted behind the house. And this is just the first 17 of 120 miles to go.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Happy Father's Day to all my buds
Greetings from Denali and a happy fathers day to all of you. It was chilly here this past week and I have caught a cold. Yesterday was warmer and I had a couple of days in a row off so I spent most of that time resting, trying to get better. The trips are going well, am able to wow most of my passengers just a little. I sure miss everyone and hope all is well in Illinois and Arizona. I talk to Linda just about every night and she is keeping me up to date on everyone. Thought I'd share some more of my writing with you.
Exerp #2:
May 22, 2007
It has been a long trip, my bones are weary and my thoughts are of all I have left behind to come to this place. There is such vastness and beauty that it can take my mind off of home and loved ones for awhile. It is hard to fathem how far I have come, but I look at my surroundings and in just the short time I have been here this place has come so far itself. The snow has gone and warm sun and blue skys have come from far to the south to start the summer. I tell myself that the warm wind is from my place, from my summer that I left behind, and it makes me feel like I have something to do with what is happening. Maybe it's just gas.
May 26, 2007
The warmth of spring was short lived. A stinging wind has come over Mt. Healy and the Sugar Loaf and it brings biting rain and sleet and a cold that is hard to get out of your body. It grips your skin and won't let go. It came with such furry that I feel it will never let go of me. The talk in camp is of new places for me, with names that are hard for me to remember and to say. They speak of these far off places with such reverancy and mystic that it makes me want to break trail for them. But one step outside and the cold wind and snow tell me to hold my ground and be paitent - I will see them soon. I busy myself with the names of all these new places and hide under my covers and practice saying these strange words. I want them to roll off my tongue with ease so I will not sound so strange. I need for them to sound as if I were at home and it was Gays, Charleston, Shelbyville, or Arcola that I was talking about and not Toklat or Teklanika or Kahiltna or Yentna. There is a newness of these words that I try so hard to say but that is not all that is new for me. There are the plants and the birds and the animals which are at every step I take and I don't know what to call them. At home I could say hello to the blue jay and the hummingbird and the cock pheasants that run through my backyard but here I can't call them by name to ask them how is your day and listen for them to speak their words. There is the Ptarmigan, which changes color from snow white in the winter to brown in the summer and the Mew Gull which is noisy and is looking for a handout all the time. There is the Wheatear which comes all the way from the coast of Asia to nest just outside my door. There is the golden Plover which comes from South America to find a mate and nest. When you think about that, then maybe I haven't come as far as I thought. If I were a Golden Plover I'd be finding a good looking parrot to mess around with.
May 28, 2007
A beam of sunlight has found a crack in my window covering and streems into my room. It's saying for me to get up and see what is in store for me today. Just as quick as the snow came, the sun has come out to say it is my turn now. A moose and her two just-born calves walk by my door just as I come out. The calves are still wabbaly on their freshly used legs. Momma gives me a look but goes on - she has been here before and feels no threat. This is a good place to have her young, down out of the high meadows where the grizzly are looking for food after a long sleep and her young bear cubs from last year are learning how to hunt for themselves. I speak to all that I see.
My cabin is small and uncomfortable - my bed is hard and the chair I sit on is no more than a plank of board nailed to a box and my butt is hurting. I have gone to sitting on my pillow and that helps. The room is only 12 x 12 and has two windows in the same corner. Just as it is for everyone else here too, my house - though modest - is unbelievable. My hallway to the bathroom is the Igloo Mountains, my driveway is Mt. Healy and my front street is the Nanana River, which is boiling with its banks full of snow melt and its water milky grey from the thousands of years of glaciers grinding away at the rock and mountains that are in their way. In my doleyard is that path to the White One and I only have to go down the path a short way to see her. It's better than going to Oz. Some days she will see you but most days she won't. She will, however, always let you see all the rest of Oz and her munchkins. All I have to do is follow the yellow brick road and believe me that is some path to have just ourside your house. All I have to do is remember not to pee in the path.
In a few days I will not be the stranger in camp. To all I meet they will be the strangers who have come to my new place. I will have lots to talk about with them and they will not know that I am just a flatlander who is not long in the land of the Big White One and my words will fill them with all that I have learned of this country, be it true or false, they will not know the difference. But I will try to be as truthful as I can, but I have a way of getting just a little colorful with some of my stories - and I will see that they are the better for it when they go back to their place of comfort, where their home is.
June 7, 2007
Today I make my first run with guests into the park. I had slept good the night before so I felt good. Up at 7:00, showered - we have water now - went to breakfast and had a big meal. I think it was the first time I have eaten that much since I arrived in camp. The one thing that is utmost on my mind is how many will I have that are new to the wilderness and will they be able to appreciate this trip as much as I do and will I remember all the facts and dates and say all the names of the places that I will take them to and will they want to hear what I know. Back in my room I start my welcome speech - I practice it over and over - then the safety speech. Then on down the line from Savage River to Teklanike and Tattle Creek, I try to visualize where I am as I move threw my speech, trying to say all I know about Primrose Ridge before reaching Igloo Pass. I don't want to back track, I am confused enough. I don't want the new arrivals to get confused and to go Eielsou and then back to Sanctuary and then to Polychrome. That will surely confuse them and me, too. The best thing I have going for me is that I've been up and down this road ten times in the last ten days and I've studied every landmark, stream, glacier valley and river that we will pass along the way and those riding along won't know north from south up here. I hope all that the old hands at this have told me is true, that all these people will want to know is where I am from and how long I have been doing this and do the rivers ever flood. I will answer all with as much truth as I think they will need to know. I wonder if anyone will ask me if I am Amish, like my hard working girls were asked all the time when working at Rockome. It could make for a good story if I did tell them I was Amish and that I just got my driving license. I am sure some would want a new driver, expecially once they see what the road is like at Polychrome. They will ask me if I've seen wildlife and I will tell them the wildlife is everywhere but it is hard for me to look for it and so if there are animals to be found today they will have to find them.. I will tell them there are no animals on the back of my head, so look out the windows and not at me. No searching the vast roadside for signs of the great grizzly or moose or eagles for me - now that I have a bus instead of my horse to get me home, I have to stay awake and keep my eyes on the road. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Exerp #2:
May 22, 2007
It has been a long trip, my bones are weary and my thoughts are of all I have left behind to come to this place. There is such vastness and beauty that it can take my mind off of home and loved ones for awhile. It is hard to fathem how far I have come, but I look at my surroundings and in just the short time I have been here this place has come so far itself. The snow has gone and warm sun and blue skys have come from far to the south to start the summer. I tell myself that the warm wind is from my place, from my summer that I left behind, and it makes me feel like I have something to do with what is happening. Maybe it's just gas.
May 26, 2007
The warmth of spring was short lived. A stinging wind has come over Mt. Healy and the Sugar Loaf and it brings biting rain and sleet and a cold that is hard to get out of your body. It grips your skin and won't let go. It came with such furry that I feel it will never let go of me. The talk in camp is of new places for me, with names that are hard for me to remember and to say. They speak of these far off places with such reverancy and mystic that it makes me want to break trail for them. But one step outside and the cold wind and snow tell me to hold my ground and be paitent - I will see them soon. I busy myself with the names of all these new places and hide under my covers and practice saying these strange words. I want them to roll off my tongue with ease so I will not sound so strange. I need for them to sound as if I were at home and it was Gays, Charleston, Shelbyville, or Arcola that I was talking about and not Toklat or Teklanika or Kahiltna or Yentna. There is a newness of these words that I try so hard to say but that is not all that is new for me. There are the plants and the birds and the animals which are at every step I take and I don't know what to call them. At home I could say hello to the blue jay and the hummingbird and the cock pheasants that run through my backyard but here I can't call them by name to ask them how is your day and listen for them to speak their words. There is the Ptarmigan, which changes color from snow white in the winter to brown in the summer and the Mew Gull which is noisy and is looking for a handout all the time. There is the Wheatear which comes all the way from the coast of Asia to nest just outside my door. There is the golden Plover which comes from South America to find a mate and nest. When you think about that, then maybe I haven't come as far as I thought. If I were a Golden Plover I'd be finding a good looking parrot to mess around with.
May 28, 2007
A beam of sunlight has found a crack in my window covering and streems into my room. It's saying for me to get up and see what is in store for me today. Just as quick as the snow came, the sun has come out to say it is my turn now. A moose and her two just-born calves walk by my door just as I come out. The calves are still wabbaly on their freshly used legs. Momma gives me a look but goes on - she has been here before and feels no threat. This is a good place to have her young, down out of the high meadows where the grizzly are looking for food after a long sleep and her young bear cubs from last year are learning how to hunt for themselves. I speak to all that I see.
My cabin is small and uncomfortable - my bed is hard and the chair I sit on is no more than a plank of board nailed to a box and my butt is hurting. I have gone to sitting on my pillow and that helps. The room is only 12 x 12 and has two windows in the same corner. Just as it is for everyone else here too, my house - though modest - is unbelievable. My hallway to the bathroom is the Igloo Mountains, my driveway is Mt. Healy and my front street is the Nanana River, which is boiling with its banks full of snow melt and its water milky grey from the thousands of years of glaciers grinding away at the rock and mountains that are in their way. In my doleyard is that path to the White One and I only have to go down the path a short way to see her. It's better than going to Oz. Some days she will see you but most days she won't. She will, however, always let you see all the rest of Oz and her munchkins. All I have to do is follow the yellow brick road and believe me that is some path to have just ourside your house. All I have to do is remember not to pee in the path.
In a few days I will not be the stranger in camp. To all I meet they will be the strangers who have come to my new place. I will have lots to talk about with them and they will not know that I am just a flatlander who is not long in the land of the Big White One and my words will fill them with all that I have learned of this country, be it true or false, they will not know the difference. But I will try to be as truthful as I can, but I have a way of getting just a little colorful with some of my stories - and I will see that they are the better for it when they go back to their place of comfort, where their home is.
June 7, 2007
Today I make my first run with guests into the park. I had slept good the night before so I felt good. Up at 7:00, showered - we have water now - went to breakfast and had a big meal. I think it was the first time I have eaten that much since I arrived in camp. The one thing that is utmost on my mind is how many will I have that are new to the wilderness and will they be able to appreciate this trip as much as I do and will I remember all the facts and dates and say all the names of the places that I will take them to and will they want to hear what I know. Back in my room I start my welcome speech - I practice it over and over - then the safety speech. Then on down the line from Savage River to Teklanike and Tattle Creek, I try to visualize where I am as I move threw my speech, trying to say all I know about Primrose Ridge before reaching Igloo Pass. I don't want to back track, I am confused enough. I don't want the new arrivals to get confused and to go Eielsou and then back to Sanctuary and then to Polychrome. That will surely confuse them and me, too. The best thing I have going for me is that I've been up and down this road ten times in the last ten days and I've studied every landmark, stream, glacier valley and river that we will pass along the way and those riding along won't know north from south up here. I hope all that the old hands at this have told me is true, that all these people will want to know is where I am from and how long I have been doing this and do the rivers ever flood. I will answer all with as much truth as I think they will need to know. I wonder if anyone will ask me if I am Amish, like my hard working girls were asked all the time when working at Rockome. It could make for a good story if I did tell them I was Amish and that I just got my driving license. I am sure some would want a new driver, expecially once they see what the road is like at Polychrome. They will ask me if I've seen wildlife and I will tell them the wildlife is everywhere but it is hard for me to look for it and so if there are animals to be found today they will have to find them.. I will tell them there are no animals on the back of my head, so look out the windows and not at me. No searching the vast roadside for signs of the great grizzly or moose or eagles for me - now that I have a bus instead of my horse to get me home, I have to stay awake and keep my eyes on the road. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Monday, June 11, 2007
Training is over!
Greetings to all,
Happy Birthday, Hollie!!
The training, studying and tests are over and I have made a few runs with tourists and got them back in one piece. Have done laundry twice now and I don't care what anyone says, you can wash your socks with your jeans.
I've been pondering writing a book about this summer and so I will send exerps from my writings from time to time. I won't send the entire thing because I want you to buy my book. Ha-ha. (And by the way, girls, I think I have caught on to spellchecking a blog!!)
Exert No. 1
The first night went fast. The sun was still high in the sky at 11:00 p.m. but I tried to get some sleep. I turned over every hour to check the clock, you know how it is when you are afraid you will oversleep. It is quiet but the room was hot, just like all rooms are in Alaska. There is an old oscillating fan on an ornate stand, which makes it look old - but it doesn't have any creaks and doesn't have any rhythm like an old fan would have. It cooled the room enough so that I could cat nap. I saw 2:00 a.m., then 3:00 then 4:00 and finally at 5:00 and the alarm went off - that's when I wanted to turn over and go back to sleep and dream of great adventures of gold strikes and hunting parties and dog sled racing with teams of huskies through deep snow. But I had to go pee so up I got, turned on the shower and turned off the alarm. Got my shower and got dressed, but I think I should have savored my shower a lot longer because it will be my last good shower for some time I fear. But such is life. It was 6:00 and the continental breakfast was on so I went for the first waffle of the day, but I didn't do it right and the desk clerk had to show me how to make Alaska waffles. I think it was the only one made that day because I think I was the only one staying at the hotel. One quick waffle and an apple to go and breakfast was over. 6:15 and I headed for the convention center where everyone is to meet at 6:30 and we are off and gone on the trail to Denali. This is how I remember it, in my way: Everyone is anxious to get going and all have great anticipation of what is to come. It has rained a warm rain for the last three nights and the sun has been high and bright in the blue sky with the temperature getting up in the middle 60's and made the snow on the flats melt and the trail will fall out soon. But we mush on. The going is hard but we all know what is at the end of the trail. We make 49 miles and everyone is in good spirits, talking to all their new friends, finding all about them. The sun is high and bright and everyone is feeling real good. Before you know it, we have made it all the way to Trapper Creek so we decide to take a little rest at the weigh station. There is a store at Trapper Creek and all are in favor of stopping so that they can stock up on some last minute provisions to last us for the rest of today's journey. Only a short stop and it's back on the trail. The farther we go down into the valley the less snow there is and the more you can see the signs that spring is coming. There is a green tint to the trees, which give the ground its hint of green as well. The birch and the aspen are showing their tiny leaves that shimmer in the sun like fishing lures going through the water of a crystal clear lake. The spruce, the pine and the hemlock have all lifted their bows toward the sun with the new green tips holding their heads up as if to say "come on, spring, hit me, I am ready." The rivers have opened their doors from being shut by winter's icy grip and beacon for the river people to don their ores and red vests and slide down their fast, rippling tops. It is now 12:00 and time to stop. All have been quiet for some time now, after saying all they could say to someone they don't know. We have reached Ryley Creek and this water says come on down and ride me - it is a fast trip down to where we will spend the night. Some want to take the fast waters to camp but it will not be safe for the tenderfoots to ride the fast gray water - for somewhere down river there will be sheets of ice on top of the water in a small dip in the river and it can be 100 feet or more long and no way to stop because the river runs much faster under the ice and will take all that come down her under. 100 yards in that 30 degree water will suck the life out of a man and if you make it through the first one there will be another and another until your lungs are full of water and the warm spring air you can no longer feel on your body. There is a grumbling in the group - some call for the water and its speed and some don't. We stop for a rest at Jackson Creek. The grumbling is louder amongst the group and finally they all talk and it is decided someone needs to turn down the radio. It's too loud...........
Leaves you hungry for more doesn't it!!??!!
I'm fine - this place is great - seeing a lot of wildlife - hope to send pictures soon - I MISS YOU ALL - blog me soon
My mailing address here is: Monty Carpenter, P.O. Box 707, Milepost 237.8 Park Highway, Denali, Alaska 99755.
Happy Birthday, Hollie!!
The training, studying and tests are over and I have made a few runs with tourists and got them back in one piece. Have done laundry twice now and I don't care what anyone says, you can wash your socks with your jeans.
I've been pondering writing a book about this summer and so I will send exerps from my writings from time to time. I won't send the entire thing because I want you to buy my book. Ha-ha. (And by the way, girls, I think I have caught on to spellchecking a blog!!)
Exert No. 1
The first night went fast. The sun was still high in the sky at 11:00 p.m. but I tried to get some sleep. I turned over every hour to check the clock, you know how it is when you are afraid you will oversleep. It is quiet but the room was hot, just like all rooms are in Alaska. There is an old oscillating fan on an ornate stand, which makes it look old - but it doesn't have any creaks and doesn't have any rhythm like an old fan would have. It cooled the room enough so that I could cat nap. I saw 2:00 a.m., then 3:00 then 4:00 and finally at 5:00 and the alarm went off - that's when I wanted to turn over and go back to sleep and dream of great adventures of gold strikes and hunting parties and dog sled racing with teams of huskies through deep snow. But I had to go pee so up I got, turned on the shower and turned off the alarm. Got my shower and got dressed, but I think I should have savored my shower a lot longer because it will be my last good shower for some time I fear. But such is life. It was 6:00 and the continental breakfast was on so I went for the first waffle of the day, but I didn't do it right and the desk clerk had to show me how to make Alaska waffles. I think it was the only one made that day because I think I was the only one staying at the hotel. One quick waffle and an apple to go and breakfast was over. 6:15 and I headed for the convention center where everyone is to meet at 6:30 and we are off and gone on the trail to Denali. This is how I remember it, in my way: Everyone is anxious to get going and all have great anticipation of what is to come. It has rained a warm rain for the last three nights and the sun has been high and bright in the blue sky with the temperature getting up in the middle 60's and made the snow on the flats melt and the trail will fall out soon. But we mush on. The going is hard but we all know what is at the end of the trail. We make 49 miles and everyone is in good spirits, talking to all their new friends, finding all about them. The sun is high and bright and everyone is feeling real good. Before you know it, we have made it all the way to Trapper Creek so we decide to take a little rest at the weigh station. There is a store at Trapper Creek and all are in favor of stopping so that they can stock up on some last minute provisions to last us for the rest of today's journey. Only a short stop and it's back on the trail. The farther we go down into the valley the less snow there is and the more you can see the signs that spring is coming. There is a green tint to the trees, which give the ground its hint of green as well. The birch and the aspen are showing their tiny leaves that shimmer in the sun like fishing lures going through the water of a crystal clear lake. The spruce, the pine and the hemlock have all lifted their bows toward the sun with the new green tips holding their heads up as if to say "come on, spring, hit me, I am ready." The rivers have opened their doors from being shut by winter's icy grip and beacon for the river people to don their ores and red vests and slide down their fast, rippling tops. It is now 12:00 and time to stop. All have been quiet for some time now, after saying all they could say to someone they don't know. We have reached Ryley Creek and this water says come on down and ride me - it is a fast trip down to where we will spend the night. Some want to take the fast waters to camp but it will not be safe for the tenderfoots to ride the fast gray water - for somewhere down river there will be sheets of ice on top of the water in a small dip in the river and it can be 100 feet or more long and no way to stop because the river runs much faster under the ice and will take all that come down her under. 100 yards in that 30 degree water will suck the life out of a man and if you make it through the first one there will be another and another until your lungs are full of water and the warm spring air you can no longer feel on your body. There is a grumbling in the group - some call for the water and its speed and some don't. We stop for a rest at Jackson Creek. The grumbling is louder amongst the group and finally they all talk and it is decided someone needs to turn down the radio. It's too loud...........
Leaves you hungry for more doesn't it!!??!!
I'm fine - this place is great - seeing a lot of wildlife - hope to send pictures soon - I MISS YOU ALL - blog me soon
My mailing address here is: Monty Carpenter, P.O. Box 707, Milepost 237.8 Park Highway, Denali, Alaska 99755.
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