Bear Spray and Small Spaces DO NOT Mix

I know, a little dramatic with the title, but hear me out. Two days before Gwen and I were to depart for Selawik for another round of sampling, a rogue bear that has been looting cabins up and down Selawik River finally made its way to the Kugarock Cabin, OUR cabin.  Perhaps the fifth or sixth cabin this bear has visited, he (or she) has become pretty proficient in getting in, getting the food, and making a general mess of things.  Entering through a large, double-paned picture window located six feet off the ground, it bee-lined for the food shelf, helping itself to a smogaspored of packaged tuna, fermented maple syrup, and various other goodies before chomping down on a can of spray foam insulation and then a can of bear spray.  This sent him scurrying pretty quickly back to from whence he came.  The cabin was discovered by a few locals on a hunting trip, who upon peering into the torn off wall, got a healthy blast of residual bear spray so potent their eyes promptly became a watery burning mess.  Bloody bear prints were all over the cabin, shelves were torn from the wall, siding was torn off in multiple locations, and the rogue bear was again on the loose.  Recognizable only by its new Santa Claus style spray foam beard.  One funny scene when we arrived at the cabin was that the bear's nose prints were still littered across windows.  Just like a dog looking at a squirrel outside.    

Sonny, along with Tina and Shawn, were able to clean up most of the cabin, boarding up the gaping window and wiping away the bloody prints.  But, they did NOT manage to remove all the bear spray residue.  A fact made very obvious with every surface we touched on the food shelf.  Which migrated itself to every food item packaging.  A burning tingle of the fingers, a wonderful sensation on an itched eye.  Extra care had to be taken when going to the bathroom so as not to have the worst happen.  We had considered not going to the cabin following the bear attack, but Sonny had brought his big gun, and really there is no better or more tranquil place to work.  Fortunately, the weather was again beautiful, allowing for a lot of data entry and filtering to be done outside.

To top off the bear break-in, multiple tundra fires had sprung up in the area from a thunderstorm that rolled had recently rolled through.  But, nothing too serious.  Storms continued to roll across the tundra but miraculously swept by, avoiding the cabin and treating us to a display.  The storms did produced some spectacular sunsets and sunrises, both of which were made further prominent by actual darkness coming back to the Arctic Circle.  It is strange how perpetual light begins as an adjustment, then turns into the norm.  When dark does return, it is disorienting to say the least.  No longer can you wake up at any time and be greeted with plenty of light to read your book before you drift back to sleep. 

The week passed quickly at Kugerock Cabin, and on Sunday we headed back down river.  Not before Gwen and I squeezed in a quick morning paddle however on the perfectly tranquil waters.  Upon arriving back in the village, we became aware that everyone was wondering where we were.  Somehow, it had spread that we were due back in the village on Saturday, prompting many phone calls between everyone at the Fish and Wildlife office, Joe and Della, and others.  Gwen and I are still not sure how this miscommunication happened but everyone we bumped into in Selawik village apparently thought we were missing and was happy to see us back.  When I got to the airport, Della was bombarded with questions about if the Fish and Wildlife people had returned.  She promptly pointed to me riding on the back of her ATV, only to have everyone tell me they thought we had been gotten by the bear.  A search party I am sure would have been mounted if we hadn't returned Sunday morning.  Kidding aside, it is nice to know that people are looking out for us.  Many of whom we barely know or have only become friendly with since June.  This knowledge made me feel I had become part of the Selawik community, if only just slightly so.  

Dinner Parties On The Aggie

Returning yet again to our gravel bar on Agashashok River.  Ours is not correct, but it feels that way as Gwen and I have been the only two out there during our stays since Bob left  back in June.  Months have passed in the blink of an eye.

The weather could not have been more welcoming.  Sunny, mosquitoes practically non existent, a vacation.  Finishing up work from a previous visit, trips to the mid spruce plots included taking tree cores from upper and lower halves of each plot in preparation for future monitoring of fertilization, and the impacts thereof.  Diameter at breast height (DBH) was also taken along with water sampling at the mouth, exit of the spruce plots, and multiple alpine locations in the watershed.  Interestingly enough, the stream tricked us into appearing to dry up, only to be flowing strongly a good thirty minutes up stream.  The flow seemed to have gone deep under the river bed, coursing below the rocky channel quietly so as to be undetected.

This covered the the river bottom in shallow pooled areas at the alpine station.

Emerging from the woods following an extensive field day, another tent greeted us on the gravel bar.  Sarah and Ellorie had dropped out of the sky earlier in the day, and apparently poked around our camp wondering who the other group on their gravel bar was.  We weren't suppose to know they investigated our camp, but they agreed to tell us "if we were cool."  Group dinners ensued, and I tagged along with Ellorie to help on some of her field work in exchange for both of them helping lower and raise a weather station.  More on that debacle in a minute. 

Their camp rolled a little differently than the "Watershed Twins" camp.  No scrimping on food, a microwave (supposedly for experiments...), and some board games.   It came out the other day at the Fish and Wildlife office that Gwen and I have been dubbed the Watershed Twins.  Our names are similar, Gwen and Ben, probably the reason Bob hired us both, and a fitting Captain Planet type name needed to concede.

But, now to the weather station.  Watching the GoPro video in hindsight, it did absolutely no justice to how difficult the 30 foot high metal tower was.   Guy-wires wires all over waiting to snag an ankle or tangle the unfortunate soul who wasn't paying enough attention.  A disaster waiting to happen.   As prep work, Gwen and I spent a few hours cutting furiously, with a crappy fold out saw and Leatherman, to clear a path in willows to be able to even lower the tower.  Ellorie and Gwen held a guy wire while Sarah and I maned the "death zone" under the tower in an attempt to shimmy it down gently. We got it down, but the whole operation literally was held together by fraying paracord, leaving nerves shot.  Never again.  The new sensor was attached, and under threat of an incoming thunderstorm, we debated if raising the tower was even possible, let alone safe.  "Science isn't worth your life," Sarah stated.  After one good ol college try, we said fuck it.  Excuse the language but we really all had had it at that point and wanted nothing to do with the tower.  Sarah and Ellorie headed off to finish their field work for the day, I called Bob to formulate a new plan, and then proceeded to nurse a stress headache for a few hours.  

We all met again for dinner, squeezed in a few games of intense Bananagrams, and the gals were nice enough to share a little wine.  I got some itchy feet after dinner and decided to head out for a hike.  Ellorie was down for a leg stretch too and off we went.  The original goal of the hike was to make a nearby ridge before the light disappeared.  After about two minutes of hiking, getting distracted by the incredible scene of the sun burning the sky as it dipped below the mountains, that goal was pretty much shot.  No matter.   Over tussock tundra, through a stream, and shooting the gap between thick willows on to the next ridge.  Still not enough, we continued up the steep granite scree, reaching a very nice knoll an hour or so after the sun had fully disappeared.  Wind howled over the peak and a menacing wall of rain was tracking steadily to our location.  The view though was too perfect however and we didn't budge for a while as darkness continued to encroach.  This moment really put into perspective what is important to my happiness.  Being outside, in beautiful places, with people that matter.  Living a simple existence with emphasis placed on experience and quality, not other ambitions tied up in societal gain.   I was exactly where I wanted to be in that moment.  How many people can claim that as an occurrence at any time?

This revelation was all well and good, but it didn't get me down a steep scree slope, in very near darkness, as a wall of rain approached carried by a brisk wind.  Ellorie led the way, down a slightly mellower ridge and into our exit route following a stream back to the gravel bar.  Upon reaching the river, caribou migration trails crisscrossed the steep screw slope across the river.  Worn into the rock, clearly defined even in the darkness.  We tracked the stream bed, getting our feet quit wet along the way.  It is difficult to see shallow pools in the dark and you don't know your in one, until your in one.  We carefully left the river to move through a band of spruce before emerging, with relief, back at the gravel bar only twenty or thirty minutes from camp.  Rain somehow held off, the storm forming a horseshoe shape around Ellorie and I, until reaching our tents and then the clouds opened.  It was 3 a.m.  Nothing is more satisfying after being cold and wet than stripping off your cloths, crawling into your dry tent and slipping into a warm sleeping bag.  Bliss.  Needless to say, both Ellorie and I were dragging pretty hard the next day.  Worth it.

You may be wondering what became of the weather station.  Bob called in a favor and Jared and Jesse, pilots who regularly drop us off, came out to assist.  Both these men, being true Alaskan men, had the tower up in no time with minimal help from us.  Jared's biceps are thicker than my quads, and Jesse was not far behind him in this feature.  With the extra time, I took them blueberry picking.  Off the pilots went about thirty minutes after arriving.  Gwen took her fun hike while I puttered around camp packing gear leisurely.  Jared, as thanks for throwing up the weather tower, promptly lost his money clip with all his cash, credit cards, and various important identifications on the gravel bar.    He didn't realize this until arriving back in Kotzebue.   At 7:00 pm, Jared arrived back at the gravel bar and everyone forged the Aggie for a search and rescue.  Miraculously, the money clip was found twenty minutes later.  In other good news, my long lost Leatherman also decided to show itself on the gravel bar.  Gwen and I departed the Aggie later that evening, bidding farewell to Ellorie and Sarah.  A real treat to meet both of them.  

After a shared dinner, Ellorie and I began to swap music and it came  out that she had just finished recording an album with a close friend.  She showed me a few tunes and I was instantly transfixed.  Dogwood, a very special band from Canada, are two women producing music and involved in its creation for the right reasons.  I can't recommend their album Crows enough.  Listen and purchase their album at thedogwoodband.bandcamp.com.  Go there immediately.  You can follow them further at thedogwoodband.wordpress.com.  

Selawik Rain Or Shine

Rain.  Rain taking off in Kotzebue.  Rainy skies when landing in Selawik.  Wind and rain traveling to the lower stations.  Rain on the way upriver to the cabin.  Delightful weather for the next round in Selawik.  Gwen and I had an extra traveler this trip as Bill, the new Biologist hired by Fish and Wildlife tagged along.  Though he is "new", he's been around the Selawik block plenty and has been working in the field for over a decade.  He brought the rainy weather with him.  All his fault.  Thanks Bill.

Since I have a lot to cover and am behind, this is going to be a greatest hits from the past two Selawik trips.  Twice the fun, half the reading, what could be better right?

Lets get back to the rain and cold.  I consider myself to be battle hardened from my past few months in Alaska but I was COLD this trip.  Wet and cold constantly.  Even with the gumbie suits, the rain stung my exposed face like needles and soaked through my twenty layers of clothing.  At one point, Bill was shaking so badly that he could barely hold a sample bottle.  Take home message, Alaska can spank you anytime with weather and it put me back in my place.  Reminding me of the softy I truly still am.  Sorry I doubted you Alaska.

To give you an idea how high the water was this week, the dock to the left typically extends about 25 feet past where the water mark is.  Also, water height is usually two feet below the  dock's deck.  Many communities along the Selawik and Kobuk Rivers were under flood warning.  The rains would not relent however as following the storm, a low pressure system was waiting for its turn to swell the rivers further.  

Gwen and I were happy to be back in Kotzebue following the wet and rainy Selewik trip.  Bill did treat us to pizza, my first time eating out in months, so his bringing of rain was forgiven.  

The next week was spent in Kotzebue catching up on work, sample processing, data analysis, and preparation for our marathon month of field work in August.  I did have time to squeeze some walks in and spent time down on the rocky coast of Kotzebue and walking the circle road outside of town.  A nice break from the typical schedule.

Gwen and I arrived back in Selawik under much better weather.  As proof Bill brought the rain, he and the Fish and Wildlife staff went on a float trip and were rained on the whole week.  No Bill equals no rain.  Sorry Bill.

Sonny has been letting me drive the boat more often and now basically pulls the boat up to the dock, picks us up and then moves promptly to the passenger side of the boat with his coffee in hand.  No napping though.  He constantly scans the banks and eroded areas for Mammoth tusks exposed by the high water and cut bank areas.  Finding a good piece can garner anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars so it's worth his time.  Unfortunately, no tusks this time.  

We did get another treat, tundra at dusk.  Since the summer solstice, darkness has been gaining nearly 15 minutes per day.

This photo was taken around two in the morning from the little deck behind the cabin.  Now, imagine this going on for about three hours and you have the Alaska nights this time of year.  Not too bad if you ask me, in fact spectacular.  Perpetual sunset.

Berry season is in full swimng along the Selawik, with blueberries and crowberries being the major berries around the cabin.  I managed to squeeze in some berry picking time and meant to pick into a bag full, but somehow the berries went from the bush, to my hand, to my mouth  instead of the bucket.  Oops.  To the left is a handful of crowberries before I shoved them into my mouth. 

Now into August, only two more Selawik trips remain for Gwen and I.  But, I managed to pull a fast one on Bob and get him thinking I do good work so he's keeping me around till October.  Got ya Bob.