Just A Side Note....

Good ol' Stuff You Should Know just did an interesting podcast about the "hum'.  I heard something similar from time to time out in the Noatak up in Alaska.  There are a few different theories, and if it even exists is still open for debate.  A solid podcast to check out regardless.  

Here you go, Stuff You Should Know. How the hum works. 

Columbia River Gorge and Southern Oregon

With everything I owned soaking like a sponge and my car smelling like a wet dog, I rolled into Columbia River Gorge in Northern Oregon.  Rain gently patted against my window while I ate some lunch and then again turned into a full downpour as I did some scout hiking.  I hiked up Multnomah Falls as water ran down the switchbacks and formed impromptu ponds at each turn.  Just couldn't get out of the rain.

I spent a few days in Portland and Oregon city with friends and family and to dry out.  I think my feet still squished when I walked even though I had no water in my shoes.  It had permeated and waterlogged my skin.  

Before heading south, Nick joined me in heading back to the Columbia River Gorge.  Allowing access to Multnomah and the handful of falls above the gorge's visual centerpiece, loop #2 (shown left) gave relief from crowds and noise of the highway below.

Wahkeena Falls, winding through a v-shaped gouge in the rock, was the first view following a half dozen or so swithcbacks.  The trail plateaus for a short stretch before shooting back into uphill climbing and denser forests.  Wahkeena Springs (below on left) cascades through the trees and winds next to the trail for the next mile as you climb up the well worn trail to Fairy Falls.  The trail was empty and the small group that started ahead of Nick and I turned around shortly after the first set of switchbacks.  The sound of rushing water and treading feet were the only sounds.  A Quick note about this hike.  Yes, seeing the waterfalls during springtime runoff is preferred, the trail Nick and I took is crossed numerous times by Wahkeena Springs and could be more difficult to navigate in higher runoff.  If you don't mind getting wet and are confident in your footing however, there should be no issues and would further limit crowds accessing the upper trail areas.  

Ecola and Weisendanger Falls are more tucked from the trail than Wahkeena and Fairy. The views here however are much more scenic and grand due to the falls cutting a small canyon, with the trail following it's edge down before depositing you to a perfect view of the lower Weisendanger Falls (below on right).  Every surface is covered with lush mosses from constant misting.  

Below Weisendanger falls, the trail cuts underneath a rock overhang and tucks itself next to a spring that is feed by underground springs from Larch Mountain.  I expected a larger feeder stream to Multnomah falls but inputs further down and constant runoff from steep surrounding slopes continue to grow the spring until it plummets over 600 feet.  Multnomah Falls is divided into the upper (540 ft) and lower (70 ft) with a concrete arch foot bridge visually dividing the two sections.  

Before reaching the base of Multnomah, twelve switchbacks separate you and your pounding shins from the view.  Two things are common on this part of the trail; 1) People being dressed more for a leisurely stroll to the bar in a smattering of hipster apparel, fancy shoes, and makeup that had begun to run due to sweating profusely and 2) people sucking wind in a fashion similar to someone trying to out compete for the only remaining air left on earth.  Don't get me wrong, it's nice to see a wide variety of people enjoying the outdoors, but maybe wear the tennis shoes instead of your fancy heals.  

Walking over the foot bridge, you are blasted with a constant downdraft of wind and spray, making it pretty difficult to take a nice, droplet free photo.  I got frustrated after five or so attempts and gave up.  Everyone with glasses were drying them with their shirt in a little huddled group on the bridges far side.  

After hiking with Nick, I left early the next morning heading south towards Crater Lake, making a pit stop in Umpqua National Forest.  I camped off a forest road way back into the trees.  Just the soft drip of water fro man early morning rain and that was it.  An eerie quiet had settled over the forest.  Side not, yes a tree does make a noise if it falls in the forest when "nobody" is around to hear it.  I had set up camp and was taking my bike down for a ride when an enormous tree branch (really the top 1/3 of the tree) broke free and crashed down making a loud bang.  Absolute quiet, then BANG!  I haven't been that frightened in a long time.  Good thing I was getting out of there and hitting the road on my bike.  I followed the twisting downhill road, turning onto a dirt path after passing a sign for hot springs.  The road was pretty rutted out but the bike handled it ok.  

A quick hike over a bridge and up a steep path to the hot springs.  The springs themselves were divided up into three pools cascading down into one another, with the pools decreasing in temperature as the water worked it's way from pool to pool.  The choice was tough.  I could join the naked guy smoking a joint in the hottest pool, squeeze in among three other soakers in the middle pool, or be the third wheel in the bottom pool while a couple, naked as well, were expressing their feelings to put it nicely.  I chose the top pool.  People continued to arrive and leave and soon I met a Chancy from Ashland and two other ladies from Alaska and Washington.  Good company and they each had great stories to share.  I finished soaking and headed for my bike to make the long uphill journey back to camp.  Chancy passed me in his car and offered me a place to stay if I was coming through Ashland.  The two ladies honked and waved as they drove by easily up the steep uphill.  

Packing up early, Crater Lake was calling.  I was squeaking this part of the trip in before snow could sock in the park and make it impassible except to the dedicated cross country skier.  I wanted to bike around the rim but the road was closed, so instead I settle for making breakfast with the Subaru's hatch opened to a pretty good view.  Not too bad.  My usual has been a breakfast scramble with eggs, red peppers, beans, celery, salsa, and whatever else needs to be eaten.  I think I eat better on the road than I do at home.  Food seems to be much more important when so many of the other comforts are stripped away.  A good breakfast with hot coffee is a simple pleasure I can have anywhere.    

Crater Lake itself is immense.  It is hard to grasp the scale of the place even when you are standing on its rim.  Being all precipitation feed is impressive too.  A giant rain gage that is much more scenic.  I meandered around the edge, taking my time and enjoying the quiet and the cold.  Crater Lake is at a significant higher elevation than the surrounding forest.  There where little piles of snow littering the parking area to prove this.  This is a place I'll need to return when the rim road is open.  I considered hopping the fence and quickly scurrying my bike over too but a park ranger kept a good eye on the blockade, turning away an enthusiastic group who had the same plans as I.

Electing not to drive the entire distance to Northern California in one day, Oregon Caves National Monument was a nice pit stop.  Visiting later in the season has it downfalls, as with closed roads at Crater, but it has it perks to in the form of zero, yes zero, people at 90% of parks I visited.  Oregon Caves was no exception.  I nearly had a private tour of the cave system before a family sprinted up the pathway to catch up with the guide and I.  Again, I'll let you wikipedia fill your brain with any fact you would like to know about the caves.  Well worth my detour, the caves were full of fast rooms, stalagmites and tites, and all the bizarre formations akin to a cave.  Yes, there is a black list in the middle photo below that causes one for the cave formations to glow.  Just like that Grateful Dead poster many of you hippies have hanging proudly on your wall.  

I highly recommend taking the cave tour if you ever visit Oregon Caves.  The most money I've spend in a National Park in a good while ($9.00 for the tour) but well worth it.  It is the only way you are allowed into the main cave system.  I joined part of the family group for a quick hike, taking the long way around to the parking lot.  I scored with a camping spot for the night, as the tour guide let me in on a secret spot he and the other rangers frequent.  I plopped myself below the park's radio tower and had perfect views of the sun setting behind the hills and clouds rolling low among the hill tops.  Stars made their way out too to finish off the evening.  A little chilly due to elevation but I slept like a baby, waking to do a quick yoga stretch and enjoy the view before continuing on to California.  

Portland and Olympic Nationa Park

Following the few days in Mt. Baker National Forest, I headed south towards Oregon City to spend some time with my Uncle Nick and Aunt Mona.  So nice of them to take in a vagabond such as myself.  They, along with their friend Lois, played tour guide showing me around the Portland area and giving me history lessons during the drive.  All three know so much about the area that every turn and every corner had a different story associated with it.  

Located in Portland's West Hills, Pittock Mansion is situated high over the city, with Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Rainier visible on clear days.  So, to save myself some typing here, I'll link you to the wikipedia page.  You were probably going to head there anyways, right?  Yep.  For more interesting tidbits, the mansion is listed as a haunted location.  Scroll down to the manifestations part of the page if you dare. The mansion itself is pretty incredible and the grounds are spectacular.  Everything in manicured in such a way that it's hard not to feel old world money at work and the formality of the early 1900's.  According to Lois, Henry Pittock would ride his bike too and from work.  Sitting at an elevation of near 900 feet, Henry must have had either legs of steel or someone pick to him up after his working day.  Top that Portland fixie riders.

The International Rose Test Garden was the next impromptu tour stop.  Stairs descend down into the garden's heart with the sweet smell of roses wafting up the steps, pulling you in.  Along with roses of every variety and color in bloom, the garden can also boast itself the oldest continuous rose testing program of its kind in the United States.

Moving back north, Olympic National Park on Washington's west coast was my next stop.  I was greeted by an empty beach, a light misting rain moving in off the Pacific and gray wispy clouds blurring the line between ocean and sky.  Had some time to cook diner right on the beach.  Rice, beans, broccoli, and some salsa hit the spot with a nice cup of coffee (I expect royalties here Jamie...).  Dreary as it may look, this was some of the nicest weather I saw the entire week.  The benefit of the off season is no one is around, but no one is around for a reason, you get soaked.  I might as well have dumped a bucket of water on myself before each hike.  

Day two greeted me with spotty sun in the morning, sucker holes as they are called, only to turn out the sun in the afternoon and bring on the downpours.  I started hiking around 1pm  from Ozette Campground and by 2pm, my rain gear was soaked through and my backpack had an additional few pounds of water weight added.  It felt like I had sponges for shoes fro the squishy feel and sound of each step.  Emerging from the woods onto Sand Point Beach, the ocean had deposited layer upon layer of kelp, as if rejecting it like a child rejects theirs greens back onto their plate after a disdained bite.  

A much harder coast line of jagged rock and cobble made progress slow to my overland crossings.  A wind also picked up blowing to the north which chilled my rain soaked body.  Movement kept me warm but any stopping immediately invited the cold to my skin.  I had packed extra layers into a trash bag but this was not enough to keep out the moisture.  It find every nook and opening.  Seagulls and other coastal birds did not seemed bothered by the weather and were flocking to the low tidal pools for food.  

Hiking on the coast brings tidal fluctuation to planning a hike.  I had arrived at the beach as the tide was at it lowest point, allowing me to skip overland crossings usually required.  Typically, overland crossings are marked by red and back disks sectioned into four quadrants of alternating color.  Think of a pizza cut into four slices.  This disc is prominently displayed on a high pole or tree trunk along with being marked on a map.  Despite this however, I missed my reentry point onto the forest trail by a long shot.  I had been keeping track of time as not to get caught by the tide and was getting concerned when I had not passed my point after two hours on the beach.  It is a three mile stretch and should have easily been hiked in under tow hours.  I checked and rechecked the map, looked for landmarks and retraced my steps.  I tried to keep my head on straight but with darkness starting to approach and the wind strengthening, the thought of hunkering down in the woods until low tide did not sound appealing in the least.  I decided to start retracing my steps feeling confident I could make it back to my original forest exit point before the tide cut me off.  I kept my eyes peeled too for any signs of a trail, convinced I couldn't have missed such a prominent sign.  A mile into retracing my steps, I noticed a weathered piece of rope dangling partially hidden from a tree branch and popped up to check.  About ten feet into the forest, I found the overland crossing sign, blown down by the wind and flipped upside down.  Oops.  As darkness fell quickly in the dense forest, I booked it the 3.5 miles back to my car and arrived just before dark cold, cranky, and ready for some warm blankets and dry clothing.  

I passed a man on the way to my car who was looking at the trail map and caught me to ask a few questions.  He was safely under an umbrella after having just emerged from a warm running car, and didn't seem to realize that I was basically a wet dog looking to get inside.  I kept trying to hint I needed to get to my car and he just wanted to tell me about his road trip and all the nice weather he had.  Finally, I had to stop him.  "I need to go.  I'm cold," was all I could blurt out in my unhappy state.  He finally got the hint and got back into his warm car to circle the campground a few times looking for a spot.  I popped the hatch to my car, stripped off all my wet clothing and wrapped myself in every warm blanket I had while I boiled some water for tea and oatmeal.  Oh how just warmth is so appreciated after being cold and wet for a few hours.  So simple but I was in a pure blissed out state.

The following morning, I woke up early to try and beat afternoon showers.  I donned my still soaking clothing and headed back for Cape Alava, yesterday's beach exit point.  Again I had the trail to myself and quickly made it to the beach and emerged into sun.  Deer were grazing behind me, just staring out into the ocean, not even blinking an eye at me.  I spent some time walking the beach and investigating camping areas before heading back into the woods to hopefully beat the impending afternoon rains.  The picture appears to be pure sun, but a thick clouded line was quickly approaching.  The sun closed out for the day maybe an hour after arriving on the beach at 8 a.m.  Returning on the forested trail, I met a man and wife in their 60's hiking duo who had camped the night before.  Joining their party for about 20 minutes, I hiked between the two of them sharing stories and just enjoying a little company.  They let me pass and I continued on the trail reaching the parking area.  Firing up the stove for a post hike egg scramble breakfast.  My hiking pals arrived just as I wrapped up breakfast, giving me their phone numbers and telling me not to be a stranger if I headed further north in Washington.

Rain rolled in again that afternoon and I decided to hunker down in the car for the afternoon and catch up on some reading and yoga during slight breaks in the downpour.  Just before dark, the rain broke again and I squeezed in a quick dinner before returning to my book and falling asleep shortly after.  Being so cold the day before really took it out of me.  Waking to more rain in the morning, I decided to move to another location in the park to see if I could dodge the weather.  I traveled further north along the coast, reaching Cape Flattery, Washington's furthest north west location.  The drive was spectacular as I left early enough to catch the sun rising over Olympic's northern coast line and also avoid the afternoon rains for quick hike along Cape Flattery's incredibly jagged ocean front.

  My original plan for my remaining three days in Olympic were to backpack along the coast from Shi Shi beach but this idea was quickly forgotten thanks to soaked gear my first day that refused to dry.  Everything I owned by this point was wet to some degree and the thought of taking damp gear into afternoon downpours didn't seem fun.  I retraced the road from Cape Flattery with a rainbow riding as my passenger the entire drive.  I have never seen a full pronounced rainbow move.  The colors tracked over the calm ocean seeming to jut into the inlets and expand as the ocean opened up.  

Deciding the coast was a bust weather wise, I headed back south into the interior of Olympic stopping along the way to camp one last time on the coast.  This could have been a mistake however as the wind was blowing with all its strength.  Trees bent in half around me and limbs clattered together like an applauding audience.  I decided it would be smart to move to a tree free location and avoid any windfall widow makers.  

The morning greeted me again with a little sun and a a calm that didn't seem possible after the evenings torrent of wind.  I snuck out of the campground early and popped the hatch to make breakfast overlooking the ocean. My final hike in Olympic was in the Hoh Rain Forest section of the park with a quick stop into the Hall of Mosses trail.  Again, it was a downpour but by now I had just embraced it and wore only my rain gear with water shoes just accepting my fate of getting wet.  No one else on the trail again and I got to enjoy the soaring moss covered trees with only the soft patter of rain making its way through the dense canopy to the forest floor.  So, a little game here.  Take a close look at the photo to the left.  A "Where's Waldo" if you will.  Nice huh?  

After one more rain filled evening at Olympic, I was ready for a change and pointed it again south.  Olympic, you can be a fickle mistress in October but I feel I passed the test.  The trails were empty, the skies wet, and I can't wait to come back.

Back On The Road

Ellorie took off early in the morning to head for Edmont.  I had to bide my time waiting for a truck, possibly Park Service, to leave the parking area.  Needed to take down my incognito tent tucked back into the woods.  Lots of driving in circles and passing the parking lot every ten minutes or so to see if the truck had moved on.  It finally pulled away and headed deeper into the park.  I wasted no time, grabbed my tent, tore it down and threw it into my car as quick as possible.

The sun was just starting to show slight streaks across the sky as I headed south on 16 towards Jasper.  In no hurry, I drove slowly enjoying the views of mirror calm rivers and mountains getting the first hints of sun.  I pulled off at a park area to dry my tent out and get some shots of the morning.  A small lake was tucked back in the trees, reflecting the morning's purple and oranges, a steady fog rising off it's surface and evaporating off above the trees.  So peaceful.  Even the moon was having a hard

time leaving its post in the sky.  Reflecting purple as the sun began to take back the morning.  

Jasper was a quick stop on my way through to Mt. Robson.  Fall colors were still hanging on and the meandering drive further slowed down my tempo for the day.  I had nowhere to be and an infinite amount of time to get there.  Mt. Robson loomed into view and I pulled of for a mid morning breakfast and possibly a nap.  From mice in cars, late nights around bonfires, and days full of hiking, I was running on fumes to say the least.  Nothing like backing up the Subaru to a picnic table, popping the hatch, and having a cup of coffee in view of the most prominent peak in North America's Rocky Mountains and the highest point in the Canadian Rockies.    

The remainder of my drive passed as lazily as the first few hours, and I decided to make it all the way to Whistler in one shot.  In retrospect, I wish I could have stopped north of Pemberton at a pull out and watched the sun set over Lillooet Lake.  But, driving in twilight has its own benefits and I coasted into Whistler ready for an actual bed.  I spent the next two days catching up on emails, sending the last summer data to Bob, and taking care of a newsletter blurb I told Brittany at Kotzebue FWS I would have done over a week ago.  The last of summer's loose ends have now been tied.

 My bike was also finally finished and following some frame bending, numerous new parts, and an unfixable wheel that finally bent to the mechanic's will, it was riding better than ever.  I glided over the Valley Trail Loop.  Nothing feels better than a just tuned bike and empty trails.   

With all my errands done, I left Whistler late in the day for the sole reason the car was packed.  I thought about spending the night in Squamish but bad weather nixed that plan.  Instead, I stopped at Shannon Falls

where I picked up a nice fellow from the Czech Republic for a ride along to Vancouver.   I didn't fully understand where this man worked, but from what I gathered, he worked 20 days a month and then for his ten days off, he bought a plane ticket and flew to a different country, making it back with just enough time to return to his (janitorial/maintenance?) duties.  Not a shabby way to make the working life a little more bearable.  He rode with me into downtown, where after a few stop lights, we shook hands, wished each other well, and out he hopped, blending into the crowed after only a few steps.  I proceeded to blast a few favorite albums for the remainder of my drive to the border.  Back in the U.S.A!  Having the passport of the country you are entering makes the process infinitely easier.  The border patrol officer looked at my passport, looked at me, asked me where I was coming from, and off I went.  Much better than the tinted-aviator-shade wearing Canadian officer from a few months ago.  

I got my bearings at a McDonalds in Bellingham WA, called some friends, and had a mini freak out about having such an open ended schedule.   Walmart parking lots don't have many benefits, only one actually, they are a safe haven for parking for the night to get some sleep.  I was one of about twenty RVs doing the same.  Some of them looked like they had been there awhile, with trailers unhitched and a small barbecue grill outside the door.  I left my car at Walmart and rode my bike to the Bellingham Library to make a plan for the next few days before I swung down to Oregon to stay with Nick and Mona for a few days.  Needing to clear my head,  Mt. Baker National Forest seemed like just the place to be the only one around and remove any distractions.  

Mt. Baker National Forest is an interesting place.  For one, it seems that moss and every other living thing were in a battle for supremacy, with moss winning the war.  Every surface was covered, advancing moss oozing over trees, concrete, and any other surface that held even a hint of moisture.  But, it did give me what I wanted and needed, which was a little peace to think and calm myself down.

The Columbia Icefields

Following a day in Whistler to get my things in order, I headed back out on the road.  I traversed the narrow winding mountain roads of Pemberton, traveled through wine country, and crossed over into Alberta.  The country was incredible, transitioning from wet mountain forest, to semi-arid scrub land, picturesque lakeside towns, and into the majestic Rockies.  Parts of the road were steep enough to throw the car into neutral and coast for minutes on end.  Great for the gas mileage.

My first stop was to Takakkaw Falls just outside the town of Field in Yoho National Park.  The falls tumble over 380 m (1,200 or so feet) from the cliff's precipice to the river below. I got there early enough in the morning to avoid the crowds and enjoy the short hike to view the falls.  I would love to see these during the spring melt but still pretty nice in the fall.  

I spent a day or so at Lake Louise, taking in the glacier and emerald water, hiking along the lake's shores to a secluded spot in view of the glacier, and to a tea house perched near a waterfall.  I was sucking wind during my hikes.  Either I was incredibly out of shape or had gained more elevation than I realized during my driving.  Either way, my pride was hurt and my lungs burned.  The trail to the tea house was full of old asian ladies in fancy shoes with fancy purses, small children, and what appeared to be a group of models way over dressed for hiking.  Crowds thinned quickly on the trail and before long, I was hiking alone in quiet.  The lake was incredible, a soft emerald glow closed in on three sides by dense forest and on the forth by steep rock faces and a large glacier.  

Before leaving Lake Louise, I stopped in the strip mall area to pick up groceries, mail a few postcards, and clean up the car.  Immediately after pulling into the parking lot, a greasy haired boy (maybe 19 or so) ran up to my car, asked me if he could buy a joint, and when that failed if he could buy a cigarette.  No's on both accounts and then he launched into a Jesus spiel.  Not expecting that one at all.  I ended up talking with him for about 40 minutes and it got pretty interesting.  He meant no harm, told me he would be praying for my soul, and gave me a hug.  I finished cleaning out the car and then left the parking lot with him waving and jumping frantically as I passed by. 

The drive from Lake Louise to the Columbia Ice Fields in Jasper Provincial Park was not long mileage wise, but stopping every thirty minutes or so adds up and it took me about 7 hours to travel no more than 150 miles.  Nice to have the luxury of time.  As Robert Pirsig says, "We want to make good time, but for us now this is measured with an emphasis on "good" rather than time..."  A nice way to think about travel.  Not just getting from one point to another on the map, but slowing down and moving at a pace to take it all in.  My road was hemmed in on each side by mountains jutting up into the skies, emerald lakes with empty picnic areas, and glaciers tucked behind nooks of mountains. So much beauty on one area.  

I arrived mid afternoon and had plenty of time to hike to the Athabasca Glacier before Ellorie arrived later in the evening.  I ended up returning to the glacier twice, the second time as the sun was going down.  The clouds turned a light pink, peaks became bathed in light, and the moon rose behind and full as a quarter.  Not another soul was by the glaciers toe.  Just me.  

Ellorie arrived at the campground at nightfall.  We crammed both our cars into the camping area, jostling for flat space, and built a warm fire.  made some hot toddies too and talked for hours, catching up from the summer and enjoying the company.  The fire began to die down and we headed to bed.  In the middle of the night, I awoke suddenly to a scream and the movement of someone jolting up in bed.  Apparently, a mouse had decided to worm it's way into Ellorie's car, stare her in the eyes and then scamper across her pillow.  The rest of the night, we could hear the little scurry of feat all over the car.  Sometimes seeming to come from the roof, other times scurrying under the windows, and then darting over the covers.  I woke up at one point with it resting on my shoulder.  Such a small animal can cause so much frustration.  Needless to say, neither of us got much sleep that night and had a hard time pulling ourselves out of bed for coffee around 10:30.  Rob and Zoe, two friends of Ellorie's arrived and gave us some much needed pep for the morning.  

Rolling out of camp late (good thing no one was in any hurry) we headed just up the road to Wilcox Pass.  The hike begins in the trees but quickly emerges into the alpine and a large saddle valley between two peaks.  Rob and I mostly hiked together while Zoe and Ellorie were just behind catching up on news.  After a picnic break, we continued off the trail to scramble a nearby ridge.  The ridge gave incredible views of Athabasca Glacier and we spent a lot of time just below the summit trundling (rock pushing, more fun than you think) and enjoying the view and a little bourbon.  Just a nipper to keep the belly warm right?  Rob had been eyeing a further summit along the ridge and we all took to scrambling along a "trail" to reach it.  We scrambled for a little while before turning back as we were suppose to meet another group of Ellorie's friends at 5.  It was about 4:30 when we turned around.  Oops.  We started down, taking the quick was of running down the scree slope to save time (think taking jump turns in deep snow on skies).  About halfway back to the cars, we meet up with the other two and headed back to camp.  

It is a miracle they found us as Rob wrote a very critic message.  Ellorie tore off a page from an academic paper she needed to read, and rob circled letters (in both the English and French sections) alerting the two of where we were, when we would be returning, and how to find us.  Nice code breaking

Upon arriving back at camp, everyone brought their food to the picnic table and a flurry of knives and stoves began making a hodgepodge of food.  This was only the beginning of the evening.  Beers were passed around, three guitars appeared out of nowhere, I fashioned some percussion instruments and the bonfire really set off the whole sing song time.  Our poor neighbor.  He never emerged from his tent however for us to invite him over to join.  He came for seclusion and silence, and we gave him none.  In all fairness, we were only second loudest.  Another group was vying for, and won, the ruckus campsite title.  

With a full moon out, it was light enough for a night mission to the glacier.  That is not to say we made it there quickly.  The time it took from the idea to be formulated to feet moving in the proper direction was well over an hour, and even then, the enthusiasm for late night aerobic activity was split.  From the six that started, only Rob, Pat, and I made it to the glacier.  The moonlight bounced off the glacier and seemed to illuminate nearby peaks.  No wind, no noise, just a soft light bathing the landscape.  Returning to the camp site, I still had itchy feet and walked up the road for a little while enjoying the quiet. 

Settling down for sleep in my car, I pulled the covers close and quickly passed out.  Only and hour later however, I awoke to a familiar sound of scampering feet, a quiet little chewing sound, and then a Spiderman-like mouse appeared running down the inside of my window.  I have no idea how he/she hung on but the mice were on a mission at the Columbia Icefield.  The whole night, I again battled a mouse and could never get it out of the car.  Unfortunately, Ellorie had similar luck as I saw the hatch of her van open every hour or so, and a frustrated body come tumbling out to open doors and get the mouse of of her car.  In the morning, I found out that her's had multiplied.  Two were roaming around her car.  

Not being able to sleep did have it's benefits however.  The whole day and evening had been overcast, though small pockets did open teasing at the star filled night sky.  Around 5am, the clouds finally evaporated and a sky full of stars was on full display.  I couldn't help but get out of the car and walk down to the road to enjoy stars over the peaks.  The sun rose not too long after and turned the few remaining clouds on the horizon a cream shade of orange.  

After plenty of coffee and oatmeal all around, all of us piled in respective cars to cram one more short hike in before the group dispersed.  The wind howled at the peak, forcing all of us to hunker down in these circular pits walled with rocks to break the wind.  At a fork in the hiking trail, group consensus elected to turn left up the ridge.  However, this was not a good choice according to a woman decked out with fancy trekking polls and a nice fleece who blurted out harshly, "There isn't anything to see up there!  You get a small sliver of glacier, but.... don't go that way.  You need to turn the other direction to see anything at all."  We decided to turn left, bringing us to the stone pits and a nice view of multiple peaks and glaciers.  We did come down and go her way, which in all fairness did give a view up the valley and of the full glacier that rolled down the valley like a tongue.  A few photos and down we all headed.  

Everyone headed their separate ways, but I followed Ellorie to the town of Jasper to check out Miette Hot Springs and then turn my direction towards Mt. Robson.  Slight change of plans however.  Ellorie told me the hot springs were about 30 km up the road from Jasper but it ended up being more like 80 km.  Oops.  This put us at the hot springs pretty late in the day and Ellorie still had to drive back to Edmonton and finish edits on a grant proposal.  Needless to say, after relaxing in the warm waters and showering, neither of us were in the mood to move quickly in any direction and we decided on the parking lot for the evening.  I set up the tent in the woods as there was no camping allowed in the parking area, and Ellorie finished the edits on her grant proposal.  We sat in Ellorie's car for a while, me reading a book and acting as sounding board for phrasing of important academic work, and her furiously typing away before she hit a wall and we looked at photos from her field season over the summer.  At midnight, we took a chance and assumed that no one would be checking the parking area and settled in for a nice night under another full moon.  

The few days with Ellorie and her gang will be hard to beat.  Incredible scenery, great people, and a taste of Canada I hadn't gotten before.  Sorry America, but Canada is creeping up to the number one position.  You better impress me in the coming weeks if you don't want to loose me across the border. 

End of Season Photo Dump

The last few days in Kotzebue were a whirlwind of mailing about $400.00 worth of coolers and probes at the post office, a debacle with UPS, and trying to wrap up four months of loose ends that always seems to happen with field work.  My body developed stress cramps. It got pretty bad.  But I survived and got everything done, if only barely.  

In celebration, I decided to wrap up my Kotzebue time by digging back through photos and throwing up a few ones to help recap the season.  You can click on each of the photos to view in at a larger size.  Thanks to Gwen for the first four photos.  We finally traded pictures from the year and she gave me some goodies.

Only seems fair to start off with a photo of Bob.  This is from our first "shake down" trip to the Agoshashok River Asik Watershed Sites, referred to as the gravel bar most of the time.  He was most likely explaining resin bag locations to me for the 100th time (my fault).  The view looks up the watershed through a large break in spruce where tundra tucks in around the river.  

That man can hike with the best of them and I don't think there is any place he'd rather be than on the Aggie.

Oh hey, there's me drivin the boat. You can see our gear crammed into the flat bottom skiff there and this is only about half of it.  We had way too much stuff for this poor little boat to handle.  Fun fact about a flat bottom skiff, great for shallow water but any type of choppy conditions means you get spanked hard by each and every wave.  I mainly drove during favorable weather.  Gwen was pretty happy about that.

Sonny removing a hook from the pike that each of us caught about twice.  We would let it go, cast in a completely different area and it would again be the first fish on the hook.  It swallowed the hook a few times too but Sonny had a trick.  He would work the hook down deeper into the fish's throught, then grab the barb that had emerged through the fishes gills.  It was then just a simple snip of the line and out the hook came.  Pretty niffty to watch.  Sonny also caught a good two foot long Sheefish too.  

Gwen and I taking a paddle near the FWS Cabin up Selawik River.  The water was perfectly glassy and you could really feel the canoe just cutting through the water.  There were beaver diving all around the canoe.  Gwen would jump and give a little eep with each one. 

With a healthy swallow population early on in the year at the FWS cabin, it only made sense we would see some baby swallows too.  This was our second time checking on these little guys and they grow quickly.  The week or so before they had no feathers and were about half the size.  Not even two weeks later, they were gone.  Oh, not a Gwen photo here.  I still had a few hiding away.

Way back at the beginning of the season.  Sonny guiding us to the tundra pond site with a big ol shot gun slung over his shoulder.  Cotton grass is in full bloom too, carpeting thetundra with little white puffs all the way to the hills.   One of my personal favorite photos from the summer.

From the last Aggie hike Gwen and I were able to squeeze in before she got outa town.This ridge just kept going and going, opening up to the valley hidden behind.  The country changed really fast once you start heading up the Agoshashok.

Didn't spend too much time in Kotzebue over the summer, but was treated to views like this down on the waterfront when I was there.  The northern lights poked their head out too, but both times I managed to not charge my camera battery before heading out.  Nice job.  

Breakfast of champions out on the Aggie.  Nothing like eating some pancakes with strawbetty jam with that view.  Makes all food taste better that it probably does.  

A special guest photo from Ellorie.  This was at the summit during our night hike out on the Aggie during August.  Still one of the highlights from the summer because of the company and view.  Thanks buddy.

So, the end of my summer.  And technically, I am now an unemployed college graduate.  Just another statistic out there trying to make it work.  Hope to see you next summer Alaska