Tag Archives: rain

“Into The Brewery”

Fairbanks Transit 142

A member of our Frozen Four-some is in Alaska, so I ventured down the Parks Hwy to Denali to meet up with them. I picked them up from Glitter Gulch and drove us all back to Healy and the 49th State Brewery. “Trust me, the brewery is far more Alaskan than the tourist traps of Glitter Gulch.”

The brewery acquired the “Into the Wild” bus from the overrated film. It’s not the original bus, but a prop from the movie. There’s been a lot of talk of hauling the bus out from the Stampede Trail, since the wanna-be’s keep getting themselves in trouble, but as of now, the famed relic still sits out on the tundra.

The 49th State Brew Company is pure Interior Alaska, in the best eclectic sense. It was more of a hangout for the locals and workers around The Park, although there were a few tourists. Being 10 miles north of The Park, and the vast majority of tourists at Glitter Gulch not having vehicles, there’s a natural buffer from the usual tourist insanity. The food was very good and the beer excellent. My only complaint was in the price for the growlers. I kept asking the girl, “What’s the price for Alaska residents?” You can rip off the tourists all you want, but overcharging the residents is just wrong. She was a young girl from Europe, who kept responding, “I don’t understand these things you say!” That’s why she was there, she was too nice to get mad at about the prices, and she seemed to only understand “Twenty-five dollars”.

Still, the place was so quirky, we all loved it.

There was a wedding reception going on when we were there, with everyone dressed up in their best baseball caps, fleece and Carhartts. It was quite the tender moment.
Fire pits were roaring outside, in spite of the rain, and I spotted several people from Fairbanks that I knew.

Well worth the stop, but if you want to leave with beer, expect to shell out for it. Luckily, Fairbanks doesn’t lack for quality beer, either.


Autumn Rain


Cleveland Blows, A Moose Snorts and the Mercury Hits 80!

The Cleveland Volcano, out on Chuginadak Island, went off this afternoon sending ash to 35,000 feet. The ash dissapated relatively quickly, however.
The photo is from AVO’s “Cleveland Cam”.

This morning I was loading up the last of the old siding into the truck. After finishing up one pile of lumber, I came face to face with the moose above, who had been eating a tree just around the corner from where I was working. I guess the sound of boards slamming into the bed of the truck was not enough to interrupt breakfast. The pile of siding that the moose was hovering over had to wait until this afternoon to go to the dump. That moose simply did not want to leave, and no amount of attempted shooing seemed to work. I guess I have to do a walk around before I start the job in the morning.

Finally, with Solstice on Thursday, summer seems to be showing signs of itself in Interior Alaska. The temps actually hit 80 degrees today, which had me in shock & in shorts. It was a damn, fine day.


A Very Wet Summer

How much rain have we had up here in The North? Well, the picture above is of The Alaska Highway gone River. All roads leading to Alaska from the Yukon Territory have been blocked by washouts after more heavy rain and still melting snow.

Holy shit! The tourists were right all along… Alaska IS an island!

The Alaska Highway is closed from Destruction Bay to Haines Junction, and from Teslin to Junction 37. That’s roughly 220 miles of highway. The Klondike Highway is also closed due to washouts. It’s expected to take days to reopen The Alcan. One washout between Teslin & 37 is over 200′ wide and 20′ deep. That is a bit of a gully.

When asked when the roads were expected to open, The Yukon Territory’s Highways and Public Works spokeswoman Aisha Montgomery said, “We’re hesitant to give specific times.” Especially when the salmon are running…

To the 100 travelers who are stuck between a mudslide and a washout near the Rancheria Lodge I say: “Welcome to the Yukon!”

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“I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.

Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.”
— Ray Bradbury from “Green Shadows, White Whale…”


Power, Power, Power

In all honesty, I would have been happy with a Bobcat, but I was given a John Deere backhoe, because “bigger is always better”. I had canceled the delivery on Friday due to a week of straight rain over ground that was still frozen just a few feet below the surface. Every path to the new cabin site was a mucky mess. Then I was told that the backhoe had been delivered a day early, and it was sitting in a driveway about a half mile from where it was suppose to be.

We would figure out a way to make it work. Sorta. Somewhat. In a manner of speaking.

The ground was, of course, too wet for such a large piece of equipment, which is why I thought a Bobcat would be more productive. But one plays with the equipment that’s delivered. I cut down a forest of trees that were in the path, we did a good job of getting the drive “formed”, considering the melting muck. There was no chance of getting the backhoe into where the new cabin will go, however. So the actually site work, and the new hole for the outhouse will have to be done at a future date. Tomorrow the Typar will go down, then we will start to haul rock (re: tailings) in, and build the new driveway from the current drive out to the new cabin location.

The backhoe is a blast to run. In fact it drives easier than The Rover, and with about the same amount of levers. I think The Rover might be a tad faster on the road though. Overall, an extremely hectic weekend, but a very productive one as well.


Storm Brewing

An intense Pacific storm is bringing hurricane force winds to the Chukchi & Bering Seas generating 20-35 foot seas. It is shaping up to be one of the most severe on record.

After the storm, it could be a great time to stroll the beaches of Nome for gold, if not for the 14″ of snow that is also in the forecast.


Lack of Use

I looked out the door this morning at 6:30 to see the rain coming down, and I even tried to be disappointed as I immediately made plans to take the day off. Obviously, one can not work on a roof in this weather.
When I booted up the computer, there was an email from a very good friend “out east”. Somewhere between reading and replying to the email, it had a peculiar effect. All the talk of hiking, fishing, hunting and “getting ready for winter” I realized that I hadn’t done any of these things this summer. In my quest for the dollar, I have been working seemingly nonstop, and in the process, taking Alaska for granted. Which does happen, but it is still a bit of a pisser to come to that conclusion.
I ended up writing all morning, then felt compelled to make my way out to the Back Pond. One of the negatives of this blog, is that I have ventured completely away from shooting film. The ease and instant gratification of digital has taken its place. So I grabbed the Nikon, which has been hanging from its place on a doorknob for ages, installed new batteries in my old, juice-sucking digital camera… just in case, pulled on my rubber break-up boots and headed out for the muskeg.
Even when I do find myself taking all of this for granted, it doesn’t take too long to recenter, as it were. All I have to do is make some sort of effort. Here I am, just a short distance from town, and suddenly I am following a moose trail through swampland. The sound of cars dies away, and a small flock of sandhill cranes fly overhead bugling in their prehistoric way. I am able to take one picture of the cranes with their wings set, and their legs dangling downward as they come into a landing on the edge of the Back Pond.
I am so engrossed with the cranes, that I don’t realize I am standing twenty feet away from a cow moose and her twin calves. All three are eating, and even though the mother doesn’t seem to be too concerned about me, she is definitely keeping an eye on me all the same. I raise the Nikon, pull the trigger, and nothing happens. Frustrated, I look at the camera to see the red, Battery Is Dead Stupid, light on. I can not recollect the last time I had this camera out. So I watch the moose for quite some time, until they start to move off for a different patch of grass and I remember that I did bring that nasty old digital camera along too.
Crossing the open muskeg towards the pond with the cranes, I am surprised at how many blueberries there are already. The field is completely covered in them, and I can not walk through without crushing berries with every step. So I pick berries as I walk, with my feet occassionally breaking through the vegetation to the boggy water beneath. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that my rubber boots are no longer water tight. They were fine the last time I put them on, but I’m not really sure when that was. It has been rather dry here until recently, I reason with myself. But that only reminds me that I have not been halibut fishing since my Dad’s last visit, when the woods were so dry that we had wildfires surrounding Fairbanks.
I push on with wet feet, and find a fallen spruce to sit on to watch the cranes. I really do need to make an effort to get out more often.


Mesquite

7:54pm
I made it back to camp as the clouds blew in, obscuring the snowcapped peaks. I flipped open the tent, sitting below it to keep out of the weather. I had planned on a hike through a canyon nearby, but I could see the rain falling on the other side of the valley, so I started to write a letter instead.
Soon the gusts were swirling and dust covered the sheet of paper. I kept writing until the dust became a white ball on the tip of my pen. When the rain drops started to mix with the dust, I moved the chair into the rear of The Rover to watch the desert storm.
I continued to write, and the rain continued to fall. I mixed a cocktail, ate some cheese & crackers, and played some BB King. Some people off in the distance worked on putting up a large dome tent with a nylon screen roof. They call that a skylight, and they always leak. Twenty minutes later, and the tent was barely upright and the rain fly had yet to be deployed. Hopefully, they had cots to sleep on.
BB King morphed into John Prine, and it was time to cook dinner. Which I did from my chair in the truck. The campground host came to check on my credentials, and John Prine had become Miles Davis. The words continued to flow, so I wrote as the rain continued to fall in the desert.