Caribou Curse

The Sun about to peak over the Alaska Range at High Noon

This weekend, feeling a little cabin fever from the cold weather that has forced us indoors for far too long, Ben and I decided to try to go for a hike.  It was 25 below outside, but we heard that if you climb Donnelly Dome, which rises abruptly a few thousand feet from the valley floor, that it can be 20-30 degrees WARMER at the top.  0-5 degrees at the summit?  That sounds WONDERFUL!  So, we headed down the snowy road, contemplating the cold weather logistics of our trip, such as how we were going to keep our water bottle from freezing en route up the mountain.  We were prepared with layers upon layers to cover every inch of our skin. We put toe warmers in our boots and hand warmers in our gloves.  We felt we were ready to take on the cold. 

We drove the 40-minute drive towards Donnelly Dome with the sun just about to poke over the mountains.  It was fifteen minutes before noon.  We had timed our departure perfectly.  If the sun poked up shortly after noon, that would give us a solid 2 hours of pure sunlight for our climb before it started its descent behind the Alaska Range again.  Supposedly, we currently have four hours of daylight between sunrise and sunset, but that doesn’t take into account the mountain range blocking our precious sun during its rising and setting.  We were eager to see those rays, even though not a one would actually touch our skin. 

Caribou on the Richardson Hwy

About 2-3 minutes before our hiking destination turn-off, we drove over one of the few hills in the highway to see three caribou sauntering down the road a short ways ahead.  We were very excited to see our first caribou in Delta and felt this was a fortuitous sign for our hike. 

Caribou with Donnelly Dome in background

We watched them for a few minutes and then continued on our way, eager to start our climb up the mountain.   As the pull-out for the hike approached, we didn’t think twice about steering off the highway to park our car there until we were physically in the process of doing it and felt our car sink down into a solid foot of snow and quickly bottom-out.  The pullout had never been plowed.  We both realized our demise instantaneously and Ben, who was behind the wheel, tried to quickly do a U-turn and escape, but it was much too late.  It was at that point that we realized that a shovel was not something on our list of cold weather gear to bring.  We are definitely still rookies.  We learned a few important lessons that day.  First, it made complete sense as to why 99% of Deltoids drive big, burly trucks with high clearance.  Birch, our poor Subaru, didn’t stand a chance in that snow.  Second, it registered why no one ever talks about going hiking in Delta.  And third, and most importantly, we realized that there must be such a thing as the caribou curse.  

  

Realizing a big truck would be a nice car in the future

We spent the next 25 minutes digging our car out with our gloved hands and our ski poles.  The sun poked out behind the mountains and we paused for a few seconds in awe and then kept digging.  We broke branches off some willows in the area and put them under our tires for more traction.  With a lot of car pushing by Ben and a heroic effort by Birch, we eventually escaped the captivity of the snow and pulled back onto the highway with a sigh of relief.   In all of our time being stuck, not a single car passed on the highway.  No sooner than 20 seconds after we got back onto the road, not one, but TWO, massive trucks capable of towing smaller cars passed us.  We could almost hear those caribou laughing at us.  At this point, we had no idea where we could park and we were both tired from digging and digging, so decided to forgo the hike.  By the time we got back to our cabin the sun was starting to disappear behind the Alaska Range again, a reminder to take our vitamin D supplements.   We waved a sorrowful farewell to it and then to boost our spirits, reminded ourselves that the winter solstice was in a mere few days!   Bring on that daylight!

A Clark Thanksgiving

A Clark Thanksgiving

Nanook of the North

Ben and I were lucky to have family willing and crazy enough to visit us for Thanksgiving!  Charli and Todd left Colorado’s 60-degree temps to come to the frozen north.  Temperatures only once got above zero (2 degrees) during Charli and Todd’s ten days in Interior Alaska.   As it turns out, the cold couldn’t stop these two.  They would go out for two-hour long snowshoes and return without hypothermia.  Now I know where Ben got his enthusiasm for the outdoors from!  Todd was nicknamed Nanook of the North (a great 1922 movie we found out) due to the large, frozen icicles encrusting his bearded face during adventures. 

Thanksgiving dinner at Nellieland

We all survived our trip to Chena Hot Springs “Resort” leaving with many fond memories and a few repressed ones as well.  We have blocked out the moments of freezing arctic agony experienced during our geothermal tour as well as the discomfort (that’s an understatment) of getting in and out of the hot springs at 15 below with 30 mph wind gusts. 

The northern lights did not disappoint, coming out for a beautiful showing while we were in Fairbanks.  Thanksgiving also did not disappoint.  A delicious meal and great company was shared with Nellie, Pete, Otter (and poor Maddie).   Someone may have even mentioned that this Thanksgiving was their favorite Thanksgiving.

 Arctic Hare tracks 

It seemed the only disappointment was the lack of actual “seen mooses” during their stay.   Moose tracks meandered everywhere on the trails and around our property, but the large ghost-like herbivores remained elusive.  The surprise came when we found tracks that walked directly up to our outhouse, in which the moose must have stuck her gigantic head inside, and then opted out of entering.  We just hope in the future that the moose isn’t that inquisitive when the outhouse is occupied.

Visiting the Museum of the North

Besides Charli and Todd staying at the cabin, for at least a few nights, it seemed that the curious “outhouse moose” was also sleeping in our front yard under our landlord’s RV topper.  We noted tracks going underneath the camper to a snow-free section of land, and then tracks going out the other side.  For a few nights in a row over Thanksgiving, we noted new tracks on a daily basis. 

Charli, also now known as Nyla (Nanook’s wife) was tough enough to use the outhouse rather than our functioning toilet (we got our toilet working right before they arrived, and it stopped working promptly after they left!). Charli became enthralled in research on an outhouse problem that we were experiencing at the time.  Now, if you decide to read on about our outhouse woes, you MUST promise not to make fun of us about this unfortunate circumstance or use it as blackmail against us in the future.  (NOTE: if you are still reading this, then you solemnly swear to never mock, laugh, jest, or at anytime bring up this situation in front of other people while we are present.)  Anyway, because we have been using the outhouse now for many months, and temperatures have been well below freezing for many months, a tall tower of frozen poop (commonly known as a poopsicle by outhouse owners of the north) had accumulated in the outhouse, making progress towards its escape to the top.  While Ben spoke of nightmares of the poopsicle grabbing him while he was on the toilet and pulling him down, Charli decided to aid her son, coming to his rescue through the saving tool of her omnipotent iphone.  She compiled a list of appropriate tools and methods for the proper way to get rid of the dreaded poopsicle.  Although she was an enthusiastic researcher, she unfortunately did not oblige to putting her knowledge into action.  While most guests probably left their Thanksgiving dinner with plates full of leftover turkey, pies, or stuffing, we left Nellie and Pete’s with a gift of rebar, the perfect tool to be used in our war against the poopsicle.  We waited until after our guests left to do the dirty deed. 

Cutting down our Christmas tree- VICTORIOUS! 

All in all, Charli and Todd’s trip reminded Ben and me how much we have to be thankful for in our life.  In addition to having the best husband a girl could hope for, I have gained amazing parents-in-law as well! 

And now, a pen switch to Ben!

Hiking in Fairbanks

Having visitors to our cabin in Delta Junction was a treat, and definitely worth being thankful for. My parents were here for 10 days and the time seemed to fly-by with playing cards, cooking dinners, beating Emily at Ticket to Ride, hiking in 15 below weather, being awoken at Chena Hot Springs to get outside and see the Northern Lights, averaging two visits to Fred Meyer’s a day, and basically just seeing how adventurous my parents still are. And as my parents learned to appreciate the beginning of winter in the Interior, Emily and I were able to reflect on how we are so thankful for having two loving families. We were fortunate to have time with my parents and are thankful for all that we have and, most of all, for the people we share our lives with. And if anyone wishes to come and visit we promise the poopsicle will not be one of your ‘dirty jobs’.   

Mom and Dad!

Ben, attacking the Poopsicle...we are proud to say it no longer stands..... VICTORIOUS again! 

I Got Burned

No School! Cold Day!

I recently pulled into the local post office after a day of teaching. The temperature outside lingered around 30 below all day and with the dimly radiating sun gone from its short daily stint, I left the car on as I walked into the post office. Before moving up north, I remember hearing about a ghost scene in the interior during winter; cars running with no drivers. And now here I found myself contributing to the scene as I quickly checked our mail. Thinking that the in-and-out of the post office run would be quick, I opted out of putting my gloves back on- the walk was only 20 feet or less.

Life is very procedural here, with constant preparation. If I want to go outside, I have to put all my winter gear on, including my moon-walking boots. If we want to drive anywhere, we have to warm up the car and bring the plug-ins. If we want water we have to put our water jugs in the car and take them into town the next time we go. With this constant formula for existence in the interior I purposely opted out of wearing my gloves- maybe to rebel, maybe to resist against the procedures, or maybe out of pure stupidity.

The 20 foot walk was as cold as one may expect 38 below to be, which I saw was the current temperature. I put my hands in my warm, down jacket’s pockets. And as I have countless times before I reached my hand out and opened the door, but this time was different than any other previous time opening a door. My fingertips immediately stung and I pulled my hand off the door knob in pain as I walked inside. I shook off the brief shock-like pain and felt the tips of my fingers. They were smooth and red, and felt as if I had accidently put them on the top of a burning stove. In reality I had burned my fingertips, and in a way that I had never done before- by freezing them!

The cold creeps into every crevasse and hangs out in any metal here. And it is evidently not going anywhere for a solid four more months, so I need to start getting to know it better and improving our relationship. I am aware that in order for a healthy relationship with the cold I need to keep all extremities and skin under thick layered clothing- a lesson hard learned.  

Losing the Winter Game

Apparently our cabin is located in the “banana belt” of Delta Junction.  You may think this would be a good thing, but it is resulting in major defeat at the “How frozen was you house this morning?” game.  This morning when my boss asked what temperature we had this morning, I hesitated and almost lied, desiring to subtract a few degrees so I could have a chance of at least tying her temperature.  I decided to be truthful, though, and knowingly lower my head in shame and said 31 below.  I was not surprised when she exclaimed, “Oh, really???  We hit 39.8 below.”  It was a crushing blow.  I started my day feeling quite embarrassed about our wimpy temperature at home.   The inferior feeling welling inside me continued throughout the day as patrons would ask the same dreaded question.  Each time I would preface my response with, “I guess we live in a warm part of town…we only hit 31 below” and like clockwork, the patrons would widen their eyes and state proudly that they had hit 37, 40, and I even heard 43 below.  I would sigh and hope that we could change the topic quickly to a conversation in which I could feel like an equal again. 

            

Despite that we live in the banana belt, the past few days I have driven to work with a semi-frozen clutch and stick shift in our car.  When I walk into my cabin after work, I gain 100 degrees from the outside temperature in an instant.  The sad fact is that after gaining 100 degrees, I still feel cold in the cabin! Our toilet also froze up again, so we are back to the outhouse.   It takes all of the energy one can muster to crawl out of bed in the morning and go to the outhouse.  But on the positive side, it does at least wake you up. 

Ben and me embarking on our Turkey Trot ski on Thanksgiving

We must mention before this post is over that we had a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving with Charli and Todd.  We will be busy this weekend writing up our blog for their visit, so stay tuned!  

Returning from the ski...a little more frozen than when we started