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

Gravel Bar Gets Crowded

Once Gwen was on the plane,  I still had lots of work to finish in Selawik.  I did manage to squeeze in a few walks down to tent village south and sit on the gravel beach to watch the sun go down.  Tough to beat.

For the final Aggie trip, I was headed out alone.  But, as Jesse pulled the plane down to the gravel bar, a few large wall tents were already erected.   A large hunting group had made their base camp on the Aggie.  After chatting with the guys for a few minutes, I liked them immediately.  You had the cocky macho hunters, the eccentric with the twirled mustache, two old crotchety men, the quiet guy that knows all there is to know, and the guy who is there to sit and drink beer.  A full smorgasbord of entertainment, food and drink included.  I also got to spend some time with Sarah and her new research assistant Cassi.  Sarah was at the gravel bar a few trips back and it was nice to catch up, play some bananagrams, and do lab work while sipping hot toddies. 

When I wasn't down at the gravel bar getting my social fill, I was really logging the miles with a heavy pack.  Getting to all my sites and carrying twice the gear made for long days but I was in heaven.  The sun was out, the bugs were gone, and I was just traipsing through the woods.  My main focus for the last Aggie trip was to pull all the summer probes and resin bags, install overwinter data loggers, fix a bear ravaged snow gauge, and install a new stream site.  The little hosiery bag is filled with anion and

cation exchange resins, with three bags placed at each spruce plot to measure soil chemistry over winter.  Little ibuttons, watch battery sized temperature gauges, are also placed at each plot.  Ironically, due to warmer winters at the study site, thicker ice cover has been impacting the tributary mouth station, so I placed another identical installation where the stream exits the mid spruce plots.  

I tried to cram as much work as I could into each day, giving me ample time to do the last hike on my list.  Just to the south west of the gravel bar, a chain of ridges connect about four peaks together forming a ring.  I've been eying this hike all summer and finally have the time to crank it out.  I left fairly early in the day under blue skies.  Following the river downstream for about a mile, I cut up to the first steep scree slope and got onto the ridge line.  The wind just howled after reaching the ridge.  It was so strong I could lean forwards with my pack on and be supported.  I don't know how long I hiked for, I didn't bring a watch or check the time before I left.  Lost myself out there.  A few spots of the hike got pretty sketchy, and looking back, probably should have avoided some of the steep scree slopes.  I crossed a steep section to reach an easier grade towards the peak.  With each step, jagged shards skittered down the slope.  

Had good weather for my last day of field work and final trip to the alpine sights.  Took a long detour to the summit of Asik Mountain, the main peak in my study watershead.  Steep scree is the majority of the hike after hackng through dense willow thickets.  The slope levels of multiple times, creating view terraces to the valley.  Birds rode thermals up the slope and were dipping and diving on one another.  Some even nicking eachothers wings and barrel rolling together.  

The panorama from the peak in incredible, with the cold wind and smell off the ocean.  Vast tundra spreads out to the west, littered with tundra ponds.  The north and west directions give views into the Brooks Range.  It was hard to head back down the slope and into the valley to collect my last water samples of the year.    

After bumping my pullout date to the 16th, I had the feeling I wouldn't fly out till the morning of the 17th.  Hunting season is in full swing and the pilots have their hands full.  I spent the day packing down camp, reading a few books, hanging out with the hunters and helping Sarah and Cassie finish their last day of fieldwork for the season.  In celebration, Sarah made us Peppermint schnapps and hot cocoa, which we drank out by the weather station.  

Back in camp, I headed over to the hunters camp to catch up with Gary and Jeff, who promptly filled my mug with beer after beer as we talked well into the night.  For the second night in a row, the sky burned pink in the west and a rainbow formed over the mountains in the east.  Have never seen a rainbow sunset and got one two nights in a row.  Nice work Aggie.  

Sarah and Cassie came over and then the party really got going.  The hunting guys started trading flying stories and I don't think I have ever laughed so hard so consistently and for such a long period.  My lungs and stomach hurt, tears came out of my eyes, and I had to gasp just to keep my breath.  We all talked well into the night, each taking turns trying to pull teeth out of a caribou skull and moose jaw to take home with us.  Just after midnight, the music was blaring, stories were being told and then everything stopped, punctuated by the call of a large wolf pack on the ridge above camp.  Everyone instantly froze and headed into the darkness to become one with the sound.  The wolves howled for a good ten minutes as they moved over the ridge and upriver.  A haunting sound that immediately brought everyone to quiet.  Everyone stared into the black, myself and a few others ventured out, and Jeff gave a few calls. The pack moved on as quickly as they had come into the valley.  Everyone meandered back to their chairs but that was it.  The night was over.  The perfect cap to the evening.  

Selawik Without Sonny

With Sonny out of commission due to the broken arm, Gwen and I traveled around with two new guides, Ralph and Randel.  One 6'5" and a relatively large man, the other small and a compact ball of muscle.  Having them along was a pleasure, but it was strange not having Sonny guiding us around. He has really become the third member of the team, well versed in our daily routine, what needs to be done at each site, and being the third pair of hands that appears out of nowhere when you need them.  The only damper of the trip was the weather.  Whenever the group had to travel, the clouds would open and send ice cold rain down only for it to promptly stop and the sun poke out from behind the clouds as we pulled into the cabin or returned from taking samples.  If you have noticed a trend, yes, it rains all the time in Selawik in August and September for that matter.  

With new guides came new guns.  Ralph brought a 44 handgun with him and of course, asked me if I wanted to take some shots.  I thought the shotgun was loud, but after standing next to Ralph as he fired the handgun, my ears were ringing.  Think of the stereotypical war scene where the guy gets the gun fired next to his ear, everything takes on the sound of being underwater, then the sound returns with a whoosh and a ringing.  Exactly what happened.  They picked out a target across the river and we took turns shooting.  I came close on my first try, missing just slightly low with the bullet splashing into the water.  Ralph and Randall told me I shot like a girl because I had used two hands.  So, they told me to shoot like a man with one hand and I sailed the bullet over the ridge and out of sight.  Nowhere near the targeted.  So, I shoot like a woman.  

Along with the gun, Ralph brought out some dried salmon strips he got from a friend.  I haven't had fish in maybe 8 years but this was a perfect reintroduction.  A texture similar to jerky.  You place the thin strip in your mouth, and using the top row of teeth, scraped the fish meat from the skin to enjoy a smokey, if slightly oily, flavor.  I had a strip or two.  Gwen couldn't stop eating them so I let her finish the bag.  They were gone in minutes.  I thought she deserved them as it was her last research trip of the summer.  As I write this, she is probably cramming as many things into suitcases as she can in preparation for her Peace Corps placement in Senegal.  

After three days of work at the cabin, Ralph and Randall shuttled Gwen and I, along with our mountain of gear back down to Selawik village.  Fortunately, there was no confusion this time on when we were due back in town.  I made it clear with Joe before we left the village when we were to arrive back in town, eliminating any chance of him nearly having a heart attack again.  

Sonny stopped by for half an hour after Gwen and I arrived in the village and he seemed in good spirits.  He was enjoying spending time with his son, and having his grand children spend lots of time at his house where he was running an impromptu life skills camp, teaching them all how to wash dishes, do laundry, and most likely how to catch, clean, and dry fish.  His arm seemed to be healing well, but he was itching to get back out on the river and out of the village.  He's not a man that can sit still for too long.

Arriving back in Kotzebue, Gwen and I tied up a few loose ends data wise to make sure everything she had been loading into the computer and putting into her notebook was in a place I could easily find.  We did a gear check, organized samples in the fridge, and then it was time to shuttle her to the airport.  After spending nearly every minute of every day with someone for three months, it immediately becomes foreign when they leave.  Good luck in Senegal Gwen.  

Aggie Fights Back

The Aggie lulled Gwen and I into thinking its skies would always shine and storms passed  quickly through.  The Aggie lied.  It would tempt and tease, deciding to clear up at nightfall after keeping us tent bound all day, deciding to clear up after returning from a long field day soaked to the bone, deciding to rain harder the further into the alpine we trekked.  The Aggie was making up for its soft demeanor earlier in the year.

Fortunately, we had a lighter work load this trip and could afford to stay in camp when it was really coming down and venture out in the evenings when the sun would poke through.  I actually enjoyed the down time, catching up on sleep and on books I have been paging through for the last few weeks.  

On the second day, the clouds broke for a brief moment and used it as my excuse to strike out upriver and investigate a hiking route I had been eyeing since first landing on the gravel bar back in June.  I had looked at these mountains every trip, every day, and now I finally had the time to pick out some hiking ridges.  The walk upriver was slow and meandering, not due to difficulty but because I was in no hurry to get to anywhere.  I wandered back and forth, crossing the river multiple times, and even squeezing in some time to sit and watch the water for a while, letting my mind drift.  Crossing the Aggie for the last time, I cut up a small tributary stream and through a thick band of spruce.  Blueberries were everywhere and perfectly ripe and plump.  I couldn't stuff them into my mouth quick enough.  Making it through the band of blueberries, I was deposited onto an open, tussock's tundra that led straight to the ridges I had been eyeing all summer.  They looked steep, but clean lines to the top and access to more ridges.  But, I would not scale them this trip as a heavy wall of rain was moving up the valley, engulfing camp and heading my direction.  Not the best time to be on steep, exposed scree.  I followed the base of the ridges, avoiding the water filled tussocks and re entered the spruce band further down river, again stuffing my face with blueberries.  The rain hit me in the spruce and didn't let up till I was nearly back at camp.  All I wanted to do was strip off my cloths and climb under my warm covers and sleep.

It rained fiercely on and off that evening and grey skies followed in the morning.  Gwen and I headed out in the morning to collect water samples, check the weather station, and take depth-to-permafrost measurements near the tributary mouth.  Due to the increment weather, putting off the alpine plots seemed like a good idea, giving us time to head up the Aggie River for some sight seeing.  After about an hour, we turned a large corner and the river began to open up, exposing higher mountains, a few with snow between their saddles.  It was interesting too see how quickly the landscape changed after only about two hours upriver from our camp.  The trees were thicker, the mountains began to grow taller, and the valleys more open.  Again, rain sped up the valley catching us about 2 hours from camp and spit on us the rest of the way back.  Hot food and warm covers again were the cure.  

More rain and more time tent bound the next day.  We were beginning to run short on time but decided to wait on the alpine plots one more day.  It is very exposed at those sights and you do not want to be caught in high winds and pouring rain.  The temperature drops and clouds can roll in, cutting visibility and making it hard to locate the study plots.  Later on in the evening, like clock work however, the skies cleared and the sun further clearer the sky of clouds.  I needed to stretch my legs from spending another day confined to my tent, so I hiked a steep ridge to a small peak named the Pygmy by other groups who have visited the gravel bar.  I got there right as the sun began to set.  With a snack of trail mix Nutella on tortillas, I sat and enjoyed the sight.  As the sun dipped below the hills, the temperature dropped immediately and as midnight approached, it was time to head back down to camp. 

Finally, Gwen and I had no choice but to trek up to the alpine plots.  Due to the pattern of weather clearing around 7 pm, we waited to leave until noon, hopping the rain would let up.  It did, suckering us into starting up and then punished us severely by pouring harder than it had all week.  We got soaked and emerged onto the high ridges in heavy winds.  Fortunately, the clouds cleared just enough for the rain to stop, and only the gps leading us to wrong locations kept us from finding the plots.  We finally found them by walking in ever widening circles from the gps points.  The view eased some of the frustration and after about two hours and a quick lunch, we were ready to start back down.  The alpine makes for a long day, about two hours up, two hours there, and two hours down, and reaching camp I was hungry and ready for dry clothing and a dry tent.  

Our final day on the Aggie, was spent returning to the lines I had investigated earlier in the trip.  This time, rain didn't prevent me from going further, and Gwen and I traversed up the steep ridges, gaining access to the upper reaches.  Ever peaky, once crested, led to a higher crest via steep scree ridges.  After a few hours, we came to the last peak in the chain before the scree dropped steeply to the valley below.  Panoramic views were in ever direction and we sat to eat our lunches on an isolated patch of grass.  The week was filled with rain and cold, but the Aggie seemed to acknowledge our patience with sun and some of the best views of the summer.  

thanks for the photo Gwen.

On a slightly sadder note, during one of our morning check-ins, Susan informed us that Sonny had suffered broken his arm, suffering a compound fracture.  He was nailing plywood up on fish racks at the culture camp, lost his balance and landed awkwardly on the ground below.  The bones pierced the skin, driving into the mud.  He was able to make a call for assistance and was quickly boated out and flown to Anchorage for surgery.  He's doing fine but unfortunately will be out of commotion for the remainder of my Selawik trips.  Could have been worse and glade he's o.k.