It is June 26th. I tried to get in here on my days off this week, but my timing was off and couldn't get on line when I was free. Got in early enough today from the run into the park that I think I can get posted before I get booted out of here. I have current news, but to think and write I'm not very quick, I need to see it written down - so I will just type the notes I have been writing. This may be confusing because my notes date back a few days but I think you can follow the dates listed as I continue my saga.
I will get all of the latest happenings written down before I blog again so I can just type it all from my notebook.
Continuing on from last blog . . . .
June 10, 2008
Tomorrow is Hollie's birthday. I have talked to her Mom and hear she is going to get the three F's - flipflops, fingernail polish and food (chocolate dipped strawberries while having a pedicure). In Hollie land these are the three essentials. It is good to know that she has moved on - it used to be her main goals were to have her own corner, run a cash register and adopt every stray dog in the world. I am so proud of her and also proud of the choices she has made in her adult life. Ok, I know that at one time she could have had a great career on the pole, but she opted for the horse shit at Rockome and worked her way thru school. It is something how your kid can make you so proud. Happy Birthday, Hollie.
100's
I am in training again. Have made a lot of contacts here and have learned that you need to plan well in advance for things that you would like to do. That is a little out of the ordinary for a flatlander, but I don't want to leave any stone uncovered that won't fit in my pocket. It is what you know and who you know and how much you can do for them that is important. As a flatlander, it has come to my attention that they have a Junior Alaskan Program here where you can get all the basics to become a sourdough in just a few short weeks. So I have made a decision that I will try to complete all of the required courses this summer - that includes iddaron mushing from some place in the bush to Fairbanks to bring back some rare serum or medicine to save some famous flatlander or just to get a summer supply of 100 bottles of Nyquill for everyone park side. I have a profound knowledge of mush - yellow and white. One of the first requirements, and the second most important thing, is to have a good platform to support you in case your dogs get lost. I don't have to worry about this just yet, as I have not aquired a sled or a team as of yet - but I have learned not to get to involved in the details at this point - in time it can all happen (with the right increments of hundreds). I have found that everything is possible in Alaska with the right hundreds of the right things. Everything is based on hundreds. It is the Alaskan numerical system for everything. Someone will say, "let's go get a hundred dollars worth of gas, drive 300 miles to town and back to get 200 cheeseburgers and a hundred gallons of beer and have a party for one hundred friends. The Alaskan numerical system - it works for everything. A hundred pounds of salmon is what I am working on now. That is what it will take to get to Fairbanks so I will have to find something to trade for a hundred pounds of salmon to feed the dogs. The only thing I have is a hundred riders every other day - so I have found a way to trade them to an airplane pilot who flys sightseeing trips over the mountain. I think this is going to work real well for both my salmon and my McKinley climb at the end of the year. And all of this is in the junion Alaskan Class I am taking. Hopefully I can have my dog mushing out of the way by mid-summer. It is required that you have it completed within the first 100 days. Log rolling and axe throwing is this weekend. I am looking forward to log rolling, as I have had some experience at falling off of logs. And really, all that is required is 100 revolutions without stopping in order to pass the log rolling part of the course. And axe throwing will be easy for me if I can throw under-handed. It should be just like using a pitching wedge from twenty-five yards out. All of this depends on my being able to trade 100 people out of all that ride my bus this summer to the mountain climbing people. This McKinley thing is going to take a lot of working out, but all I need to be able to do is climb a hunderd feet an hour - and who can't walk 100 feet an hour. So, what I am doing is this - when people on my bus ask if I have ever been on one of those airplanes that fly around the mountain, I tell them yes and that they should too. "Go see Hundo", I tell them, "over at Telketnia Air and tell him that Monty sent you". This way I build up flying time with Hundo. All I need is 100 referrals and I will have enought to trade for up to at least 7 thousand feet, where they can land on the glacier and I can start my climb of McKinley. That would only leave one thousand, one hundred feet to climb to reach the summit and at 100 feet per hour I only have to climb about 500 feet per day. I should have at least three days to get to the top and back down to the 7 thousand foot camp, where an Attabasken Indian will take me down to Kantishna for only 100 bottles of Nyquill. And all of this will be possible just because of the junior Alaskan class I've been taking this summer.
Last summer none of these exciting adventures were possible for me because of all of the restrictions that had been placed on me. There must have been at least a hundred things that I was told I could not even think about doing. But this year when I left home, she didn't say "Don't even think about it!"
June 14th
Father's day is tomorrow. The kids have sent me a Father's Day package but I can't get to the post office until Monday. It is hard to wait but the post office is not open on Sunday and I have to go inside to get the package. My box for letters and postcards is outside where I can get to it whenever - that is where they have all their summer resident's boxes. I sure miss the kids a lot, but knowing they are doing well helps me a great deal. I don't worry as much as I used to. I have kind of accepted that they have grown up and can take care of themselves.
Have had some really great wildlife days - yesterday was a hummer with 9 bears, 2 wolfs, a linx, lots of carabu and 2 foxes. Lots of dall sheep and 2 big rams. Had a long day earlier in the week - bus broke down on Government Hill and had to wait for another bus, transfer passengers and then continue the tour - but we saw all the wildlife except for a wolf that day so it was good, just long.
Had a new one for me - went to my first union meeting. I didn't know what to expect during the meeting but I knew what to do after it was over. My brothers-in-law taught me well what it is you do once union meetings are over - so I called in sick the next morning! Ha ha!
Hoping everyone is doing good. Sure do miss you all. Give me a "blog" when you can. I'll continue with my notes now.
Krumangen
Day 17 - no buggers. ( I'm sure that all flatlander keep stats.)
I have had no grand slams yet this year, but have come close three times. There is a change in the air and I feel it is a change that calls for short pants with white socks - with home being the place you want to run for and hear the crowd roar as you touch the bags, to have the power in that wood again and know you can go for the fence. You can touch them all and have no fear in going from first to third or center to the plate. It is a time of spring and I think it's here at last. The cold that had gripped my bones has started to thaw and the chill that has been upon me is gone. There is a change that has started to come over me as well - a metamorphasis - and I don't know if I can stop it. I think I am going to the dark side, a place that hides deep inside us all - it's a demon - and I think it is coming out of me. I am having trouble just writing about it. There is no one here I can talk to about it. No one here would understand what I am trying to tell them because no one knows me here. No one knows what I am really like - no one knows who I am - not like my buds and my friends in the flatland. It is a bad feeling for me to write down - a hard emotion to express. But I have signs. Signs that I am changing. There are things I am doing that I have never done before. It's like the boy of summer has left and responsibility has crept inside of me - or maybe it's the "M" word - maturity. Yes, the "M" word!! There are clues that it is happening to me. You see, I have started hanging up my pants at night - on a hanger - not just on the back of the chair. I've started picking up my socks when I take them off and have even gone as far as to hang up my shirt. I know this would not seem strange at all to these people up here in the north land. But to the people that know me, this is not right. It's like I have some other person from the dark side inside of me trying to come out. I think it all started when I became a vegetarian. I think I have become health concious. I consider my body as a temple now - ever since I started reading the word of the Sholmay. Yes, I have a new vegan lifestyle. I'm trying new foods - sprouts - spinach, okra, blue ribbon, wheat germ. I have started chanting in the evenings! - getting involved with the other followers of the jolly llama - real fun bunch. I am glad I have an orange bathrode. A friend here has loaned me a spare rug, which is nice, but I am having trouble sitting with my legs crossed. My legs go to sleep and I fall over into the person chanting next to me, then they fall into the person next to them - it's the domino effect. They are in deep meditation and chanting and don't even realize they have fallen over and I start to set them back up without messing up their bathrobes. But the problem has been solved. I just take my rug and go sit up againt the wall, fold the edges up under me when no one is looking and sit on it that way. My butt doesn't get tired and my legs don't fall asleep as fast. Chanting is harder than it looks and I'm not that good at it yet. Most everyone chants in "F" and you know me and Ike - everyting in "C"!! So I've been off key a little but they've been kind and have overlooked me breaking off into the chorus of "Just a Closer Walk With Thee" every once in a while when I really get my hum on. I am light headed a lot these days since I went vegin and just today I noticed I was wearing white socks with brown shoes. The next thing you know I'll be wearing my pants pulled up to the middle of my stomach - and just today I was told no more wearing my orange bathrobe to work with white socks. What is wrong with white socks. If only I had a set of suspenders - a good belt is hard to find these days. And I have to trim my eyebrows every other day. What's up with that!! The only add I can read in my AARP magazine without my bifocals are the ones for hearing aids - and why are my legs as white as my ass checks - they're even whiter than my socks. And why do I go to bed at 7:30 and what do bags under your eyes really look like. . . . . and does touching them all mean you have to see them, too? I can't remember the last time I pissed over a fence and thank God for automatics - the stick shift should be outlawed. And I don't leave anything on my plate these days. Me and Dave Blethroade's high school health teacher was right - STATS - everyone keeps them, some are just different than others.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
The adventures continue
Hi Family and Friends,
Am off work today, Monday, June 16th. Got my laundry done - finally - and thought I would post some more of the notes I've been jotting down. Am feeling better but these days off are very long!! Talked to the kids yesterday on Father's Day. They went to Cracker Barrell to have their Sunday only served southern fried chicken to celebrate for me. Was great to talk to them. They are all doing great and have been adding to their blog, too. If you haven't yet gotten on their blog you should. It helps keep up on what they are doing plus they know how to put pictures on theirs! Linda told me about David Tate. What a shame - he was so young - we had a lot of fun times golfing with David, didn't we - he'll be missed. She also sent me some pictures of all of the flooding - wow! I cannot remember the bridge at Cooks Mills ever flooding over before. Hopefully your rain will back off big time for a while. Well, here we go with the writing:
June 1, 2008
It is hard to know where to start - the miles have been many, some hard and some easy - but none without you in my mind and heart. There has been much doubt in my mind as to why I have come back to this far-off place, where winter still hangs on like an ingrown toe nail that you keep stubbing. You can put up with it most of the time but you just can't kick anything quite as hard as you woud like. I will miss your birthday again, Linda, but you should have some flowers for your desk. Not quite the same but we can celebrate when I am home.
June 5, 2008
Last day of training. We drove all the way to Fish Creek just so we could train on the four mile stretch of road out to Ileson. It is a very dangerous and tricky part of the park road so we drive it over and over without people on so we can re-learn the road without distraction. It has been a very long day and I'm going to eat supper and turn in
June 6, 2008
Sittout outside on the back of the Murie Center. Still need a coat on over a sweatshirt if you are sitting still. Don't remember it staying this cold this late last year. But it has not snowed for five days and the sun comes and goes to try to warm us.
HATS . . . .
There is one thing that I have noticed up here that is totally different from home and that is hats. And I do mean different hats. Some are hard to describe. It seems as if people use them to help personify their personality. We have all kinds - not to say they are out of place, but they are unique to the person who wears them. The tourist men all wear a ball cap with the word Alaska on the front so that everyone will know that they are in Alaska - and I suppose so that they can do a quick check to remind themselves where they are. You have to keep in mind that the average age of tourists that come up here is 65. Not that that is old, but it is the right age for men to start taking their hats off to find out where they are. There is also that bracket of men that wear both the hat and the sweatshirt that say Alaska, and in most cases these men are also carrying their wives purses, and can be found staring into space with their mouths half open standing in line waiting for the right bus to take them back to their hotel, which they cannot pronounce the name of but their wife has a canvas tote bag from their hotel so they can just point at the name on the bag and ask the driver, "do you go here?" I love to say "no" then watch as the wife goes into full fly-catching mode with that "how will we ever get back to Cleveland from here" look on her face. But I always give in and tell them which bus to get on so they don't miss the salad bar opening and the start of the sing-along. They all know all of the words to "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah" and "I've been Working on the Railroad". Lawrence rules with this crowd! The tote-bag crowd I call them. Then there is the fly fishermen's hat. That's the guy who just bought the hat down in Skagway to impress all his friends back at the local bait shop. He can't wait to get home and show off all his new blue gill lures he has pinned through his new hat. You can always tell it is a new hat by all the bandaids on the guy's hands. You see, he keeps taking his hat off to tell where he is at and gets his hands caught on his new fishing lures. I say a fella with one hand that has at least seven bandaids on it and the other hand in a sling (with his wife's purse around his neck) is the true vacation fisherman. The bird lovers hat is another one that is hard to miss. They have this big floppy brim on them with a chin strap. Pray tell what the chin strap is for. Maybe if they see the right bird they will be able to fly also. These hats also have face netting that folds up in the brim. I guess this netting is to help them stay on their diet. You can always tell you are at dinner with a birder who has just purchased the ultimate bird-watching hat because they can't figure out how to get the netting to stay up in the brim after they have unrolled it. One of the best of the all time hats is the Alaskan wildlife hat. In my opinion, the moose is by far the best. What you have is a nice brown fur cap with a set of moose antlers sticking out the sides. The most common wearer of this hat is the guy with the World War II Cheerleader for a wife who has had three face lifts and looks at least thirty years younger than him. It is as if this hat gives him some new-found supply of testosterone - they spend a lot of time putting their head down and making cow sounds like they are going to goor something. Let me say this - there is nothing more touristy than some guy in a wolf or bear hat - but the one in a moose hat with the antlers is the best - and this macho "moose" guy is carrying his wife's purse!!! Next there is the Sherlock Holmes hat. Now this one is worn by both men and women - big bill in the front and in the back and inveriably one will leave the price tag on the under side of the back bill but put the hat on backwards. Not always, but most of the time they are traveling with another couple who have binoculars around their necks and nets over their faces. Not to be outdone - both the man and the woman will be holding a marshim pipe. The ever-present Elmer Fudd hat can also be seen in the gift shops in Glidder Gulch - with the red plaid out-numbering the green plaid four to one. Almost always, the men wearing this hat will have one ear flap up and one down. This is so they will be at least half way ready to go to the next gift shop at a moment's notice and can do so with only one hand needed to pull the "up" flap back down, freeing his other hand for - you're right - carrying is wife's purse. Then there is the photographer's hat. This hat has many categories of human under them. Mostly you've got the professional photographer with the 1000mm lens that looks a lot like a leaf blower, who's carrying a tripod and a back pack that is big enough to make an attempt at climbing Mount Foucker. This guy has everything he is wearing two sizes too big for him - shirt, vest, pants - but not his hat. It is this foreign legion style with a black bill, white top and a washcloth type thing hanging from the back. Most of these people don't carry a purse, though. I could go on and on. My powers of observation are exceptional - maybe it is my own little idiosinkricy or just my left-threaded way. Probably the best hat of them all is the Australian style bush hat, worn exclusively by people from Georgia and Alabama, all trying to talk like Crockadille Dundee with a southern accent. This hat is easy to spot in a crowd because the person wearing it is usually pulling a fold-up shopping cart that will have his wife's purse AND his sister-in-laws purse in it. I love to say "Good day, Mate, out for a walk about" in my best accent from down under. It seems, though, that every time I get a chance to do this, I say it at the same time they've been told to get something out of their wife's purse in the shopping cart and they don't hear me. Hats, hats, hats - none like Ivan's or Kenney's bucket hats though. Maybe they are just too flatlandish for up here, I don't know. But what I do know is that the one common demononator among the hat-wearing men I am encountering during my Alaskan adventure is the number of them that carry a purse!
Got a couple of folks waiting to use a computer so I'll stop for now. Will try to write more again tomorrow, as I am off then too. Monday and Tuesday is my weekend with this run I'm on now. Take care everyone - I miss you - hopefully you can comment back to me on the blog.
Monty
Am off work today, Monday, June 16th. Got my laundry done - finally - and thought I would post some more of the notes I've been jotting down. Am feeling better but these days off are very long!! Talked to the kids yesterday on Father's Day. They went to Cracker Barrell to have their Sunday only served southern fried chicken to celebrate for me. Was great to talk to them. They are all doing great and have been adding to their blog, too. If you haven't yet gotten on their blog you should. It helps keep up on what they are doing plus they know how to put pictures on theirs! Linda told me about David Tate. What a shame - he was so young - we had a lot of fun times golfing with David, didn't we - he'll be missed. She also sent me some pictures of all of the flooding - wow! I cannot remember the bridge at Cooks Mills ever flooding over before. Hopefully your rain will back off big time for a while. Well, here we go with the writing:
June 1, 2008
It is hard to know where to start - the miles have been many, some hard and some easy - but none without you in my mind and heart. There has been much doubt in my mind as to why I have come back to this far-off place, where winter still hangs on like an ingrown toe nail that you keep stubbing. You can put up with it most of the time but you just can't kick anything quite as hard as you woud like. I will miss your birthday again, Linda, but you should have some flowers for your desk. Not quite the same but we can celebrate when I am home.
June 5, 2008
Last day of training. We drove all the way to Fish Creek just so we could train on the four mile stretch of road out to Ileson. It is a very dangerous and tricky part of the park road so we drive it over and over without people on so we can re-learn the road without distraction. It has been a very long day and I'm going to eat supper and turn in
June 6, 2008
Sittout outside on the back of the Murie Center. Still need a coat on over a sweatshirt if you are sitting still. Don't remember it staying this cold this late last year. But it has not snowed for five days and the sun comes and goes to try to warm us.
HATS . . . .
There is one thing that I have noticed up here that is totally different from home and that is hats. And I do mean different hats. Some are hard to describe. It seems as if people use them to help personify their personality. We have all kinds - not to say they are out of place, but they are unique to the person who wears them. The tourist men all wear a ball cap with the word Alaska on the front so that everyone will know that they are in Alaska - and I suppose so that they can do a quick check to remind themselves where they are. You have to keep in mind that the average age of tourists that come up here is 65. Not that that is old, but it is the right age for men to start taking their hats off to find out where they are. There is also that bracket of men that wear both the hat and the sweatshirt that say Alaska, and in most cases these men are also carrying their wives purses, and can be found staring into space with their mouths half open standing in line waiting for the right bus to take them back to their hotel, which they cannot pronounce the name of but their wife has a canvas tote bag from their hotel so they can just point at the name on the bag and ask the driver, "do you go here?" I love to say "no" then watch as the wife goes into full fly-catching mode with that "how will we ever get back to Cleveland from here" look on her face. But I always give in and tell them which bus to get on so they don't miss the salad bar opening and the start of the sing-along. They all know all of the words to "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah" and "I've been Working on the Railroad". Lawrence rules with this crowd! The tote-bag crowd I call them. Then there is the fly fishermen's hat. That's the guy who just bought the hat down in Skagway to impress all his friends back at the local bait shop. He can't wait to get home and show off all his new blue gill lures he has pinned through his new hat. You can always tell it is a new hat by all the bandaids on the guy's hands. You see, he keeps taking his hat off to tell where he is at and gets his hands caught on his new fishing lures. I say a fella with one hand that has at least seven bandaids on it and the other hand in a sling (with his wife's purse around his neck) is the true vacation fisherman. The bird lovers hat is another one that is hard to miss. They have this big floppy brim on them with a chin strap. Pray tell what the chin strap is for. Maybe if they see the right bird they will be able to fly also. These hats also have face netting that folds up in the brim. I guess this netting is to help them stay on their diet. You can always tell you are at dinner with a birder who has just purchased the ultimate bird-watching hat because they can't figure out how to get the netting to stay up in the brim after they have unrolled it. One of the best of the all time hats is the Alaskan wildlife hat. In my opinion, the moose is by far the best. What you have is a nice brown fur cap with a set of moose antlers sticking out the sides. The most common wearer of this hat is the guy with the World War II Cheerleader for a wife who has had three face lifts and looks at least thirty years younger than him. It is as if this hat gives him some new-found supply of testosterone - they spend a lot of time putting their head down and making cow sounds like they are going to goor something. Let me say this - there is nothing more touristy than some guy in a wolf or bear hat - but the one in a moose hat with the antlers is the best - and this macho "moose" guy is carrying his wife's purse!!! Next there is the Sherlock Holmes hat. Now this one is worn by both men and women - big bill in the front and in the back and inveriably one will leave the price tag on the under side of the back bill but put the hat on backwards. Not always, but most of the time they are traveling with another couple who have binoculars around their necks and nets over their faces. Not to be outdone - both the man and the woman will be holding a marshim pipe. The ever-present Elmer Fudd hat can also be seen in the gift shops in Glidder Gulch - with the red plaid out-numbering the green plaid four to one. Almost always, the men wearing this hat will have one ear flap up and one down. This is so they will be at least half way ready to go to the next gift shop at a moment's notice and can do so with only one hand needed to pull the "up" flap back down, freeing his other hand for - you're right - carrying is wife's purse. Then there is the photographer's hat. This hat has many categories of human under them. Mostly you've got the professional photographer with the 1000mm lens that looks a lot like a leaf blower, who's carrying a tripod and a back pack that is big enough to make an attempt at climbing Mount Foucker. This guy has everything he is wearing two sizes too big for him - shirt, vest, pants - but not his hat. It is this foreign legion style with a black bill, white top and a washcloth type thing hanging from the back. Most of these people don't carry a purse, though. I could go on and on. My powers of observation are exceptional - maybe it is my own little idiosinkricy or just my left-threaded way. Probably the best hat of them all is the Australian style bush hat, worn exclusively by people from Georgia and Alabama, all trying to talk like Crockadille Dundee with a southern accent. This hat is easy to spot in a crowd because the person wearing it is usually pulling a fold-up shopping cart that will have his wife's purse AND his sister-in-laws purse in it. I love to say "Good day, Mate, out for a walk about" in my best accent from down under. It seems, though, that every time I get a chance to do this, I say it at the same time they've been told to get something out of their wife's purse in the shopping cart and they don't hear me. Hats, hats, hats - none like Ivan's or Kenney's bucket hats though. Maybe they are just too flatlandish for up here, I don't know. But what I do know is that the one common demononator among the hat-wearing men I am encountering during my Alaskan adventure is the number of them that carry a purse!
Got a couple of folks waiting to use a computer so I'll stop for now. Will try to write more again tomorrow, as I am off then too. Monday and Tuesday is my weekend with this run I'm on now. Take care everyone - I miss you - hopefully you can comment back to me on the blog.
Monty
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Greetings from Denali
Today is Saturday, June 7th. Sorry it has been almost a month since I arrived in Alaska and I have not gotten anything posted until today. When I have had some time off, I have had to rest. This pneumonia just won't go completely away. I am finally feeling a little better I think. Had to have the doc from home phone in more medication to Fairbanks for me and I just finished taking the fourth round of antibiotics yesterday. Hopefully this will do the trick. I was to have had Thursday and Friday off and planned to gather up all of my notes (I have been jotting down notes since I arrived) and get to a computer on Friday. Then I got called to drive Friday. My run today was earlier than most days and was back in much earlier, so hopefully I can get everything typed before the lines get too long waiting on a computer.
May 10, 2008
A long day yesterday. Last minute packing and getting the last jobs out of the print shop. I needed to leave by 11:30 to head to town to meet Linda for lunch. Was done with cleaning the press at 11:45 - a quick shower is all I had time for. Not what I had in mind - I didn't have time to get in the hot tub - so much for some of the amenities of home for the last time. Didn't even have time to play with the dog - just told her I'd be back tomorrow - She is going to be PISSED! Had lunch with Linda and Bill - was sure good to see him for a little while before I left - and then it was off to the airport. Linda and I made it to O'Hare on time - no traffic delays - so we had time to set in the airport and hold hands and dry on each other's shoulder. It was a tough goodbye for the both of us. Last year was all so new - this year we both know how long 4 1/2 months can be when we are not together. But we are one even if we are apart.
Arrived in Anchorage about 11:00 p.m. after a 6 1/2 hour flight. It was long and uncomfortable. I had requested an aisle seat but ended up with a middle seat - between two good sized bubbas who were sitting side by side when I got to my seat. I like to get on the plane as late as I can when I take my guitar on board - then all the people already on think I am some kind of rock star from the flatlands. If someone asks, I've got this big story to tell them about having to go replace Arlo Guthrie's backup singer, who has come down with booblonic plague - or food poisoning - depending on how gullable the person appears to be - or if they even know who Arlo Guthrie is. Lots of variables in my presentations. But, these two bubbas are having a Gulf War reunion when I walk up to take my seat. The guy in the middle says "I've got this cast on my leg, is it alright if we change places and I take your aisle seat?" Being the good natured flatlander I say no problem. (thinking it will be easier to tell both of them my Arlo Guthrie story if I'm in the middle). So much for that thought. Not long before it was apparent that there were no Arlo fans in the bunch. But we were not long in the air when I find out that the one with the broken leg has just gotten off a whaling ship where he was the first mate boson captan something or other and had been put adrift by his crew for snoring so loud he had kept all awake for days. The other bubba was a Pentecostal preacher who thought he could save me from the demons of drink after my third crown and coke - which I was drinking to kill the pan in my left ear. I let him go through his entire sermon on the evils of alcohol just to be nice, but I finally had to shut him up. I told him I was only drinking the crown to get the bottles. That was how I made my living. That I was an artist and that I painted beautiful pictures on the small bottles and attached them to a macrame necklace - and that they highly resembled scrimsaw carvings. Next thing I know, while I am still talking to the preacher, both bubbas are snoring. Not a good way to spend a six and a half hour flight. But I made it with all of my belongings. At last I was able to stand up and move around, got my luggage and hailed a cab - and it is still before sunset, so it has really been a long day. Something that I will need to get used to again.
The sagga begins . . . .
The long trek was over, so I thought. Now it would be just a matter of falling into a rhythm after I make it back to my cabin - and the park this year will be much easier - I will no where I am going once I get to Denali and what is going to happen the first day and the next day and the next. This year I will know where I go to eat and sleep and the same of the places that I am supposed to be in ten minutes. I will know people's names and what all the acronyms mean. If someone asks about what is going on out at Savage or Heeley, I will know what they are talking about - what a difference. But there are still new things for me to experience, which is why I am back here. This is a big place. A different kind of place - with different customs and ways of life. So, why not try one on my first day - a different experience that is. The Midnight Sun Mission - or - I know - to stay in a hobo camp down by the railroad yard! But I had too much stuff to get over all the tracks - it is a big switching yard - and to take a cab to an empty box car would just take all the fun out of hoboing, in my way of thinking. Besides, I have left home without my red bandanna and no self-respecting hobo with any sand at all would be seen out in public without is red bandanna - image is everything when you are hoboing - so it is nix nix to spending the night in a box car. So I have to bring all my skills of living off the land in to play to make it through the night. I know from all my past training in Biloxi that a man needs food, shelter & drink, as well as ESPN, Fox News and the cooking channel - these are the necessities of life. But in downtown Anchorage at midnight with no red bandanna I see only one option open to me, seeing as the Hyatt is $375.oo per night and the night is half over and negotiating any difference while the cabbie's meter is running is not a good thing to do. When in Rome, do as the Romans do - ask the cabbie "know of any place a flatlander can get a room for the rest of the night without spending my income stimulus check?" Cabbies know all this kind of stuff "Have you tried the Midnight Sun Mission?" No wanting to seem like a total stranger to town, I say no, but do you think a place as nice as the Midnight Sun Mission would still have a room? Sure, he says, do you want me to call and see? No, I say, let's just whip on over there. If Father Dolapp is still running things there, I am sure he will find me a room. OK says the cabby, who has introduced himself as Alaskan Jesus -which seems really strange to me. Everyone up here is called Alaskan something. I've run into an Alaskan Johnny, an Alaskan Slimm and and Alaskan Fatty. I think when I get home I will have my name changed to Alaskan Monty. Has kind of a ring to it. Sleep is trying to creep into my head, but as Walt Whitman said, "I have miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep." Almost sundown now and there it is - a flickering blue neon light with only the "d" and the "sion" lights on all the time - but occasionally the M and the G light up. What a welcoming sight! "Home at last" says AK Jesus, "been nice having you along tonight, and look - the 'Come on In' sign is in the front window - that means they still have beds open - you are in luck - don't mean they will still have soup left though" Airplane ticket $800.00 - Cab ride $65.00 - Cabby's tip $10.00 - One night in the Midnight Sun Mission - PRICELESS!!!
May 11, 2008
Trip to the park on the Yukon Trail was long - over five hours sitting in a van with 12 other people - only stopping twice, once about 30 miles out and the next about 190 miles out. But on the south side of the Alaska Range we started to get into the snow and everything was beautiful. At trapper creek we saw the mountain and it was clear all the way to the north side - what a sight to see her all the way 'till we went around the outer range.
May 14, 2008
Cold this morning and a heavy frost covers the road bed - the water in the creek was frozen but the sun was high at 7:00 a.m. and the sky was blue and bright. The air was cold in my lungs when I breath it in and I could feel it in my chest. The last few days have been long - the classroom part of training is long and trying and can be over-whelming as well as boring at times. But this afternoon we start behind the wheel training which will make the day go by faster and break the boredom of the orientation. I am scheduled to start training with Wendy Hester who is a fifteen year veteran who I took my first drive out into the park with last year. She is an older lady and will be a good person to start training with this year. I don't know what we will start on but we will have about ten more days of driving training before I will be alone. We have a bid tonight at 7:00 - we'll see what I get
May 17, 2008
Tired tonight - training on the park road all day - 7 1/2 hours of driving. I was saying to myself, what am I doing all this way from home again putting myself through all this training when I could be home doing what a normal person my age should be doing. I should be thinking about retiring - not starting a new career in Alaska. But then I start up Polychrome and two old dall rams were laying in the road - they moved thank goodness. Then, about ten more miles down the road it was snowing so hard it was a total white out for about five minutes so we had to stop. It cleared and on I went. The park is still all covered in snow - about three feet deep down where I live but up on the park road everything is white. On my way back from Toklat I started up Primrose and saw a grizzly - she was walking up the road right in front of me - I slowed down a little and crept closer and then there was two, then three, then four - you guessed it - my first bear sighting of the year was the triplets born last season and their momma. What a sight to see them again and I can't put into words the way I felt seeing them again. All were healthy and getting bigger. Two will be as big as momma by the end of July and of course the little one had to show off by trying to catch a hare that ran past - it was an incredible sight. I just stopped the bus and sat and watched them. They started digging for roots - that is their main food source this time of year - no grass or berries because everything is still under snow. Then they started moving right towards the bus - they kept walking my way - I had the driver's window open all the way and as they walked by they were so close I could hear them breathing. You can't imagine what a rush it is to have four grizzly bears walk past you so close you can hear their breath and their claws clicking as they walk. So I guess I know why I am back up here.
May 18, 2008
Just time for a short note after I called home. I was sitting on the third step of our EDARX talking to Linda when this cow moose and her year-old calf just came out of the woods and walked by me at about seven feet away - liked to scared me to death. All I could say to Linda as they walked by was "oh my,oh my, oh my,you cannot believe how big a full-grown moose is strolling by just 7 feet away - oh my!!!!!!!!!!
May 19, 2008
The last cold days of winter's shivers have just left my teeth, I hope, for all the garden food that was put up last year is gone and there is only three days of wood left in the wood box. All of last year's moose is gone and I have eaten all but one pair of boots and all my socks. There is hope!! The "Rold Gold" man has been seen down in the front country so all is not lost. Besides, that is the way you are to write when its springtime in Alaska. Below freezing last night but it is warm today when the sun is out from behind the clouds. Today was the last day of training until they get the road clear of ice from Toklat to Ileson - hopefully by the 25th so we can get that part of our training finished. But I am cleared all the way to Toklat and have my first run on Friday the 23rd. I have a 9:30 a.m. run first of the year. My spirits are a lot better. On the way back in from training run, I was reminded just how spectacular this place is. The beauty of this place cannot be described- it helps so much with the home sickness. I have taken to writing notes to myself when I have time then I will try to put it all down at once. I just don't know if it will make any sense - we'll see if I can tie it together. But dileria ravages my body and my mind fades from reality to fiction and then back. I have started to hear voices of past Atabaske Chiefs and Elders of days gone by from the great fishing villages on the Tananall - so return with me to those thrilling days of yesterday, back before electric start snowmobiles and direct T.V. - back in a more simpler time when a man of the north could pull start his snowmobile and didn't mind going out and turning the antenna to pick up his favorite rerun of old-time radio. These are the days I remember, the days that were full of hardship. Like last spring, which I remember as if it were only last spring. Back when I was but just a young whipper snapper of a flatlander with not even as much as a stone in my pocket. But look at me now, I have a whole pocketfull of rocks now. A man with rocks in his pockets is a man who knows not to go swimming with his pants on - and not to stay overnight at a friends house with a large picture window. There is a great deal of symbolism in my thinking today. I hope you can see it for I cannot, for my eyes are full of tears and are red and irritated and I must admit - I'm having some trouble writing. Not to worry though, I am not losing my vision or anything like that - no it is just that I've been working on this jigsaw puzzle of a snow scene here in the park for the last three evenings. But I just found out today from one of the Tribal Elders or the Bartender at the Spike, I don't know what he likes to be known as - but anyway he asked if he could borrow some rocks last night and I said sure, seeing as I have plenty this year and I was getting tired of throwing rocks by myself at this puzzle and him being an Elder and me getting a sore right arm. That is one good thing up here, people are willing to help you with almost anything. I know that sooner or later I would have figured out that it was no a snow scene of the park for people with pockets full of rocks to be working on. Besides, I may be suffering from frost bite on all my finger tips, throwing off all sense of feeling I may have in my fingers, which would be a must for working this kind of jigsaw puzzle, which I would have seen if I had not had this bad case of tired red eye brought on by snow blindness caught while trying to turn the antenna to bring in public radio for the hearing impaired.
May 10, 2008
A long day yesterday. Last minute packing and getting the last jobs out of the print shop. I needed to leave by 11:30 to head to town to meet Linda for lunch. Was done with cleaning the press at 11:45 - a quick shower is all I had time for. Not what I had in mind - I didn't have time to get in the hot tub - so much for some of the amenities of home for the last time. Didn't even have time to play with the dog - just told her I'd be back tomorrow - She is going to be PISSED! Had lunch with Linda and Bill - was sure good to see him for a little while before I left - and then it was off to the airport. Linda and I made it to O'Hare on time - no traffic delays - so we had time to set in the airport and hold hands and dry on each other's shoulder. It was a tough goodbye for the both of us. Last year was all so new - this year we both know how long 4 1/2 months can be when we are not together. But we are one even if we are apart.
Arrived in Anchorage about 11:00 p.m. after a 6 1/2 hour flight. It was long and uncomfortable. I had requested an aisle seat but ended up with a middle seat - between two good sized bubbas who were sitting side by side when I got to my seat. I like to get on the plane as late as I can when I take my guitar on board - then all the people already on think I am some kind of rock star from the flatlands. If someone asks, I've got this big story to tell them about having to go replace Arlo Guthrie's backup singer, who has come down with booblonic plague - or food poisoning - depending on how gullable the person appears to be - or if they even know who Arlo Guthrie is. Lots of variables in my presentations. But, these two bubbas are having a Gulf War reunion when I walk up to take my seat. The guy in the middle says "I've got this cast on my leg, is it alright if we change places and I take your aisle seat?" Being the good natured flatlander I say no problem. (thinking it will be easier to tell both of them my Arlo Guthrie story if I'm in the middle). So much for that thought. Not long before it was apparent that there were no Arlo fans in the bunch. But we were not long in the air when I find out that the one with the broken leg has just gotten off a whaling ship where he was the first mate boson captan something or other and had been put adrift by his crew for snoring so loud he had kept all awake for days. The other bubba was a Pentecostal preacher who thought he could save me from the demons of drink after my third crown and coke - which I was drinking to kill the pan in my left ear. I let him go through his entire sermon on the evils of alcohol just to be nice, but I finally had to shut him up. I told him I was only drinking the crown to get the bottles. That was how I made my living. That I was an artist and that I painted beautiful pictures on the small bottles and attached them to a macrame necklace - and that they highly resembled scrimsaw carvings. Next thing I know, while I am still talking to the preacher, both bubbas are snoring. Not a good way to spend a six and a half hour flight. But I made it with all of my belongings. At last I was able to stand up and move around, got my luggage and hailed a cab - and it is still before sunset, so it has really been a long day. Something that I will need to get used to again.
The sagga begins . . . .
The long trek was over, so I thought. Now it would be just a matter of falling into a rhythm after I make it back to my cabin - and the park this year will be much easier - I will no where I am going once I get to Denali and what is going to happen the first day and the next day and the next. This year I will know where I go to eat and sleep and the same of the places that I am supposed to be in ten minutes. I will know people's names and what all the acronyms mean. If someone asks about what is going on out at Savage or Heeley, I will know what they are talking about - what a difference. But there are still new things for me to experience, which is why I am back here. This is a big place. A different kind of place - with different customs and ways of life. So, why not try one on my first day - a different experience that is. The Midnight Sun Mission - or - I know - to stay in a hobo camp down by the railroad yard! But I had too much stuff to get over all the tracks - it is a big switching yard - and to take a cab to an empty box car would just take all the fun out of hoboing, in my way of thinking. Besides, I have left home without my red bandanna and no self-respecting hobo with any sand at all would be seen out in public without is red bandanna - image is everything when you are hoboing - so it is nix nix to spending the night in a box car. So I have to bring all my skills of living off the land in to play to make it through the night. I know from all my past training in Biloxi that a man needs food, shelter & drink, as well as ESPN, Fox News and the cooking channel - these are the necessities of life. But in downtown Anchorage at midnight with no red bandanna I see only one option open to me, seeing as the Hyatt is $375.oo per night and the night is half over and negotiating any difference while the cabbie's meter is running is not a good thing to do. When in Rome, do as the Romans do - ask the cabbie "know of any place a flatlander can get a room for the rest of the night without spending my income stimulus check?" Cabbies know all this kind of stuff "Have you tried the Midnight Sun Mission?" No wanting to seem like a total stranger to town, I say no, but do you think a place as nice as the Midnight Sun Mission would still have a room? Sure, he says, do you want me to call and see? No, I say, let's just whip on over there. If Father Dolapp is still running things there, I am sure he will find me a room. OK says the cabby, who has introduced himself as Alaskan Jesus -which seems really strange to me. Everyone up here is called Alaskan something. I've run into an Alaskan Johnny, an Alaskan Slimm and and Alaskan Fatty. I think when I get home I will have my name changed to Alaskan Monty. Has kind of a ring to it. Sleep is trying to creep into my head, but as Walt Whitman said, "I have miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep." Almost sundown now and there it is - a flickering blue neon light with only the "d" and the "sion" lights on all the time - but occasionally the M and the G light up. What a welcoming sight! "Home at last" says AK Jesus, "been nice having you along tonight, and look - the 'Come on In' sign is in the front window - that means they still have beds open - you are in luck - don't mean they will still have soup left though" Airplane ticket $800.00 - Cab ride $65.00 - Cabby's tip $10.00 - One night in the Midnight Sun Mission - PRICELESS!!!
May 11, 2008
Trip to the park on the Yukon Trail was long - over five hours sitting in a van with 12 other people - only stopping twice, once about 30 miles out and the next about 190 miles out. But on the south side of the Alaska Range we started to get into the snow and everything was beautiful. At trapper creek we saw the mountain and it was clear all the way to the north side - what a sight to see her all the way 'till we went around the outer range.
May 14, 2008
Cold this morning and a heavy frost covers the road bed - the water in the creek was frozen but the sun was high at 7:00 a.m. and the sky was blue and bright. The air was cold in my lungs when I breath it in and I could feel it in my chest. The last few days have been long - the classroom part of training is long and trying and can be over-whelming as well as boring at times. But this afternoon we start behind the wheel training which will make the day go by faster and break the boredom of the orientation. I am scheduled to start training with Wendy Hester who is a fifteen year veteran who I took my first drive out into the park with last year. She is an older lady and will be a good person to start training with this year. I don't know what we will start on but we will have about ten more days of driving training before I will be alone. We have a bid tonight at 7:00 - we'll see what I get
May 17, 2008
Tired tonight - training on the park road all day - 7 1/2 hours of driving. I was saying to myself, what am I doing all this way from home again putting myself through all this training when I could be home doing what a normal person my age should be doing. I should be thinking about retiring - not starting a new career in Alaska. But then I start up Polychrome and two old dall rams were laying in the road - they moved thank goodness. Then, about ten more miles down the road it was snowing so hard it was a total white out for about five minutes so we had to stop. It cleared and on I went. The park is still all covered in snow - about three feet deep down where I live but up on the park road everything is white. On my way back from Toklat I started up Primrose and saw a grizzly - she was walking up the road right in front of me - I slowed down a little and crept closer and then there was two, then three, then four - you guessed it - my first bear sighting of the year was the triplets born last season and their momma. What a sight to see them again and I can't put into words the way I felt seeing them again. All were healthy and getting bigger. Two will be as big as momma by the end of July and of course the little one had to show off by trying to catch a hare that ran past - it was an incredible sight. I just stopped the bus and sat and watched them. They started digging for roots - that is their main food source this time of year - no grass or berries because everything is still under snow. Then they started moving right towards the bus - they kept walking my way - I had the driver's window open all the way and as they walked by they were so close I could hear them breathing. You can't imagine what a rush it is to have four grizzly bears walk past you so close you can hear their breath and their claws clicking as they walk. So I guess I know why I am back up here.
May 18, 2008
Just time for a short note after I called home. I was sitting on the third step of our EDARX talking to Linda when this cow moose and her year-old calf just came out of the woods and walked by me at about seven feet away - liked to scared me to death. All I could say to Linda as they walked by was "oh my,oh my, oh my,you cannot believe how big a full-grown moose is strolling by just 7 feet away - oh my!!!!!!!!!!
May 19, 2008
The last cold days of winter's shivers have just left my teeth, I hope, for all the garden food that was put up last year is gone and there is only three days of wood left in the wood box. All of last year's moose is gone and I have eaten all but one pair of boots and all my socks. There is hope!! The "Rold Gold" man has been seen down in the front country so all is not lost. Besides, that is the way you are to write when its springtime in Alaska. Below freezing last night but it is warm today when the sun is out from behind the clouds. Today was the last day of training until they get the road clear of ice from Toklat to Ileson - hopefully by the 25th so we can get that part of our training finished. But I am cleared all the way to Toklat and have my first run on Friday the 23rd. I have a 9:30 a.m. run first of the year. My spirits are a lot better. On the way back in from training run, I was reminded just how spectacular this place is. The beauty of this place cannot be described- it helps so much with the home sickness. I have taken to writing notes to myself when I have time then I will try to put it all down at once. I just don't know if it will make any sense - we'll see if I can tie it together. But dileria ravages my body and my mind fades from reality to fiction and then back. I have started to hear voices of past Atabaske Chiefs and Elders of days gone by from the great fishing villages on the Tananall - so return with me to those thrilling days of yesterday, back before electric start snowmobiles and direct T.V. - back in a more simpler time when a man of the north could pull start his snowmobile and didn't mind going out and turning the antenna to pick up his favorite rerun of old-time radio. These are the days I remember, the days that were full of hardship. Like last spring, which I remember as if it were only last spring. Back when I was but just a young whipper snapper of a flatlander with not even as much as a stone in my pocket. But look at me now, I have a whole pocketfull of rocks now. A man with rocks in his pockets is a man who knows not to go swimming with his pants on - and not to stay overnight at a friends house with a large picture window. There is a great deal of symbolism in my thinking today. I hope you can see it for I cannot, for my eyes are full of tears and are red and irritated and I must admit - I'm having some trouble writing. Not to worry though, I am not losing my vision or anything like that - no it is just that I've been working on this jigsaw puzzle of a snow scene here in the park for the last three evenings. But I just found out today from one of the Tribal Elders or the Bartender at the Spike, I don't know what he likes to be known as - but anyway he asked if he could borrow some rocks last night and I said sure, seeing as I have plenty this year and I was getting tired of throwing rocks by myself at this puzzle and him being an Elder and me getting a sore right arm. That is one good thing up here, people are willing to help you with almost anything. I know that sooner or later I would have figured out that it was no a snow scene of the park for people with pockets full of rocks to be working on. Besides, I may be suffering from frost bite on all my finger tips, throwing off all sense of feeling I may have in my fingers, which would be a must for working this kind of jigsaw puzzle, which I would have seen if I had not had this bad case of tired red eye brought on by snow blindness caught while trying to turn the antenna to bring in public radio for the hearing impaired.
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