Tag Archives: rain

Houston

The images from the Houston area leave one awestruck, and emotionally raw. For someone in the subarctic, 50 inches of rain from one storm is simply hard to fathom.

Fairbanks has seen its own floods, and I’ve written here before of the ’67 Flood, but the devastation in the Houston area is massive, and the recovery will be long and drawn out.

Still, there is hope. Numerous stories are coming out of the area showing the kindness and bravery of strangers helping strangers. We do seem to save our very best for times of disaster.

When it comes to aid organizations, I have no idea which ones get the most bang for the buck, or which ones have the highest “internal expenses”. I did see a post from JJ Watt, the All-Pro defenseman for the Houston Texans. His foundation has a track record of helping people out in their time of need. I posted his video above, and his link will be below. In spite of the fact that Watt is a former Badger, I’m guessing this son of a firefighter will get some bang out of the bucks donated.

http://YouCaring.com/JJWatt


Weathering

From Sunday morning to Monday afternoon, my rain gauge totaled 1.9″. That’s a fair amount of precipitation for us in the Interior.
On Friday, we saw the mercury rise to 90 degrees, on Tuesday morning, I found a layer of ice on my truck’s bed cover. ICE!
One never knows what’s around the corner up here. Which, of course, is half the fun.


We’ve had a bit of rain

Denali Road overflow
Mudslide over the Denali Park Road

After all of this rain, things are starting to give. A large mudslide has closed the Denali Park Road in The Park. The slide, at Mile 67 of the park road, is 100 feet wide and 10 feet deep. The six inches of rain in the past week, on top of what already fell in June and July, was too much for the ancient volcanic ash in the soil.

Park employees remind folks that there is no cell coverage out at Wonder Lake and Kantishna, and only a few of the lodges have a land line, so people stranded on the west side of the slide will have a much needed, if not appreciated, break from smart phones and internet.

Photo credit: James Long/DNP&P


Less butterflies; More dragonflies

Mangrove forest
Thick, mangrove forest

I hiked several of the trails around Flamingo. They offered mangrove forests, coastal plaines, rivers of grass, hammocks, and wildlife galore.

Christian Point Trail was one that I tackled. 1.8 miles one way, and it was not being maintained. There were no cars at the trail head, which sealed the deal.

Bring DEET. Lots and lots of DEET.

I had not brought along my REI Jungle Juice, but if I didn’t wash my hands after applying the stuff I bought, my steering wheel would deteriorate, so I figured it was acceptable. And it did work… at first.

At the start, the trail goes through some very thick vegetation, and it was in the low 80’s. I have no idea what the humidity was, mainly because I had no interest in knowing. As I perspired, the DEET was diluted, and the horde of blood suckers were on me. I briefly thought of stopping, getting the bug dope out of my pack and reapplying, but just a short pause was enough to deter such thoughts. I quickened my pace, and hoped that the coastal plain was near.
*A side note: this was the last time the bug dope was not in one of my pockets.

Coastal plain
The country opens up

There were butterflies everywhere, and occasionally I would spot a dragonfly. Probably 10 to 1. Butterflies are all right to look at, but dragonflies are beautiful… especially when one is hunting down a mosquito. I am so attached to dragonflies, that I feel awful when I hit one with my truck in Alaska. With every windshield fatality, I figure 10,000 mosquitos just flew free.

I could see the vegetation lessen and feel the air heat up even more. Suddenly, I broke the barrier and ran for the sunlight. The horde would not follow, but it could afford to wait patiently.

Coastal Plain hike

I enjoyed hiking the coastal plain, in spite of the heat. The lack of mosquitos allowed me to slow down and enjoy the unusual country I was hiking through. Little geckos or small lizards were everywhere. The vegetation was surprisingly thick and green, but the vast majority of it did not come up to my knees.

The Prize
The Prize at the end of the trail: Florida Bay

The vegetation suddenly thickened, but there were no mosquitos. The trail ended at a small opening, looking out at Florida Bay. There was no beach, just some soggy earth, then the ocean. There was a bench with a resident gecko. He allowed me to join him, and I ate some lunch, drank a quart of water and stalled. I had suffered for this view, and I was going to take it in. What a relaxing spot.

Very dry plain

Heading back, I crossed a desolate patch of earth that at one time must have been a water hole. I spotted a hermit crab in the thick brush, then I thought I saw a land crab move from under a chunk of log.

Crab corpse

Then I spotted the corpses. I don’t know how I missed them the first time, although I was taking a slightly different track across the dried up earth. The ground was littered with the corpses of crabs. I assume that they came out en masse when this was still standing water after the rains. Then they were found: gulls, crows, vultures? I don’t know. Maybe all of those and others. But it was a feast.

Crab feast


Downpour

  


Downtown Anchortown

Anchorage @ Night


Turn the Page

Snow Across the Valley

A couple of milestones were reached today. Snow flurries filled the air for much of the day, eventually turning to straight rain by late afternoon.

It was also the first day this season that I wore a long underwear top underneath my sweatshirt.

Damn.

It would seem that S.O.B. Jack Frost is burning the bridge to summer.