I drive past Iditarod Musher Vern Halter as he runs for Borough Assembly - other election day images as seen from my bike and the car

I began election day by spending three hours at my desk, working on my project, during which time I composed one single paragraph - a short one at that. Yet, coupled with the photographs that it will run with, I think it is a paragraph that sings. It will make a strong statement about life and death and I know it will bring tears to some people's eyes. It brought tears to mine.

Afterward, I took a bike ride and as I pedaled, this Cessna flew over my head. It is very difficult to photograph an airplane flying by directly overhead while you are pedaling a bike, but I did it.

I had not been able to get Margie out of the house for a few days, but today I succeeded. I took her and Kalib to a fine lunch at A&W/KFC. Along the way, we passed people raising signs urging me to vote for Taffina Katkus for the Wasilla City Council. A little girl inspected a crash pole.

I did not vote for Kaffina. I did not vote against Kaffina. I could not. I cannot vote for anyone who runs for Wasilla City Council, Wasilla Mayor, or any damn thing like that. It's because I live in the unincorporated part of Wasilla - that part where we get to pay all of the sales taxes that fund the city, just like those who live in the incorporated part, but reap none of the benefits.

Mayor Rupright is trying to change that, trying to bring us in.

I don't know if he will succeed. The only time I really cared was when I had to make a citizens arrest of the drunken ice cream good humor lady and hold her for a full hour while I waited for the State Troopers to arrive, as the Wasilla Police would not come.

Taffina is an artist, by the way, and she makes postcards.

I had two hot dogs and fries; Margie had a hamburger and onion rings, which were better than my fries. Kalib had a bowl of macaroni and cheese.

As we were about to leave the Fred Meyer complex parking lot back onto the Parks Highway, we saw these four students of the old Russian faith entering the trail that leads past Wasilla Lake.

The day was one of exquisite beauty, sunny, the air wonderfully clean, crisp and brisk and Margie suddenly decided that she wanted to stay out for awhile. So, even though I could not afford the time, I took advantage of that feeling and drove her up to Pittman Road. More people were campaigning on the corner of Parks Highway and Pittman, but I only had a second and instead of photographing the sign carriers, I photographed these members of the support crew, also of the old Russian faith, in the back of their van.

Not far down Pittman Road, we came upon more people carrying signs, this time for Vern Halter, who everybody in Alaska knows, because he is a famous Iditarod musher. And there was Vern, right in the middle of them, waving at us.

I did not want to be rude, so I waved back. It is pretty hard to take a picture while waving at a famous Iditarod musher as you drive past, but I did it.

It was very safe, because there was no other traffic and I was going slow and the only people nearby were these folks and they were on the other side of the road and I never looked through my camera, I just pointed it and clicked and it took less than one second, so don't get excited.

Notwithstanding this big trip, come 4:00 PM, when All Things Considered comes on the radio, I again broke away from my project to take my coffee break. Margie did not want to come. As I sat waiting in the drive-through at The Metro Cafe, I took this image in my rear-view mirror of these workers pouring asphalt.

Let me make one thing very clear: there were stories in the news today about bloggers accepting cash and gifts from sponsors that they then praise highly, but never reveal that they were compensated for the endorsement.

I have never done this. I never will do this. When you see a photograph in my blog of someone making coffee or serving me a hotdog with Pepsi and then you read my words and I tell you that the coffee was superb and the hot dogs delicious, you can trust my integrity.

I have not received one cent for my endorsements. In fact, in all cases, I pay for the product myself. These merchants cannot buy me. I buy my own damn hot dogs!

As for Vern Halter, I just learned from another blog that he won his assembly seat.

The tile of the post included these words, "Weird, huh?"

I don't know. Two actors have been governor of California, one went on to become President of the United States and all kinds of lawyers run for office.

So what's weird about a dog musher running - and winning?

Good dog mushers are smart people. They have patience. They think, they know how to communicate - with dogs, at least.

Then, of course, Bev Masek was a dog musher and she ran and won state house. In fact, for a while, she was my representative, although I voted against her. Now she is going to jail, for not only taking payola but soliciting it. Sad story.

But see how wise I was?

I know her, too, a little bit - I interviewed her a couple of times when she was mushing; later, I chatted with her in White Mountain, when she pulled in with her dogs. I once briefly shared a cabin with her brother in Tanana. He is a good guy. 

I have a feeling Vern will do better. I hope so.

Technically, I remain in Cocoon Mode, but I overdid it, put in 53 minutes, so this post does not qualify.

Obama administration wrong in effort to deny pensions to 26 members of the Alaska Territorial Guard (a brief exit from cocoon mode)

I was sitting here just now, at my computer, struggling with my project, when I heard a story on APRN's Alaska Statewide News that struck me as almost unbelievable.

The Obama Administration wants to deny pensions now included in a military spending bill for 26 surviving members of the Alaska Territorial Guard. You can find the story here in the Anchorage Daily News.

During World War II, Alaska was the only place in the United States that was not only bombed by Japan but where the enemy actually captured US soil and held it, at a terrible cost in life to both sides. To help protect Alaska, the US Army took on the organization of the Alaska Territorial Guard, comprised mostly of Alaska Natives living in remote parts of the state, particularly along the Southwest and Arctic Coasts.

Their job was to be the eyes and ears of the military in Alaska and they did it well. Of the 6600 who served in the Alaska Territorial Guard, 300 still live. After the war, 26 of these continued to serve in the US military and, if their time in the ATG is included in their military service, they qualify for full pensions.

That's what the bill does - it includes that time and makes these elderly Alaska Natives eligible for their pensions, roughly about $400 a month.

The Obama administration argues that this sets a bad precedent in making people who worked for states eligible for federal benefits.

But the ATG was organized on behalf of the US Army in a time of war that struck and held US soil.

And what will be saved by denying pensions to 26 elderly men who served their country?

Pittance.

I voted for Obama and support him in most things, but this is about as dumb, foolish and cruel a move as his administration could make.

As to the gentleman with the dog in the picture, this is the late ATG veteran John Schaeffer, Sr., Iñupiat, at his cabin out in the country about 21 miles from Kotzebue.

In the late 90's, I did a project on behalf of the Alaska Federation of Natives wherein I photographed and interviewed Native veterans from across the state. Most of these were regular military men and women who had served overseas in conflicts from World War II, Korea, Vietnam and the original Gulf War.

I was visiting Kotzebue and wanted to include some ATG members. Several folks said I ought to talk to John Schaeffer, Sr. I tracked him down through his son, John Schaeffer, Jr., the former Adjutant General of the Alaska National Guard. The general warned me in advance that his father was an ornery and crusty old man who did not like to be disturbed by anyone when he was at camp.

Still, he managed to get a radio message out to his father and asked him if I could come and pay him a visit. "No," the elder Schaeffer retorted.

But both Schaeffer's had served in the military to keep America free and I was a free man, able to go wherever the hell I wanted to go - especially in those days, because I had not yet crashed my little bush plane and so the lack of roads was no impediment to me.

So I flew out, found his cabin, put my skis down on the snow covering the frozen surface of Kotzebue Sound's Hotham Inlet and climbed out of the airplane to be greeted by his barking dog.

I was there. John loved airplanes. I had flown in myself. His dog barked but didn't bite. He invited me into his cabin, fed me fish and moose and we talked about airplanes, and his time in the Alaska Territorial Guard.

The ATG was organized by the famed Colonel "Muktuk" Marston, originally of Washington State, who traveled about western and northern Alaska and gained the friendship and trust of the Native people.

Perhaps Marston would not have done quite so well as he did, had it not been for Schaeffer, who took him all over Northwest Alaska by dog team.

"“We used to have a lot of fun," Schaeffer remembered their travels. "I always get a kick out of him, Muktuk Marston. Every time we camp we had a little 8x10 tent, I’d pitch it up.  When he get ready to go to bed, he always take all his clothes off, and walk out the door bare-footed.” He laughed loud at the memory. “I hear him crunching around in the snow, going to toilet.  That guy was pretty tough, boy.  He said he always sleep better when he do that, walk out naked."

Tough as Marston was, he did sometimes find himself in need of Schaeffer's protection, such the time they mushed into a trading post in Kiana to spend the night.

They arrived late, around nine or ten o'clock. Even though she was drunk, the wife of the owner fixed them some food and they sat down to eat it. Her mother was also drunk, upstairs.

“Then all of a sudden, there was a big commotion, they had a stair way up to the second floor.  Something was coming down the stairs: 'Bang! Bang! Bang!'  That other woman, she fell down coming down the stairs, and she just rolled down, 'Klunk! Klunk! Klunk!' down to the floor.  When we got through eating, I told Muktuk, ‘I’m going out to feed the dogs.’

 “‘Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!’ he was just like a kid, he didn’t want to be left behind with them two drunks in the house.

"I took him along. I got a kick out of that."

Maybe he didn't see combat, but Schaeffer did risk his life serving the ATG. In one instance, he paddled a kayak out to an ice flow to hunt seals (the ATG lived off the land and sea). The ice broke between him and the Kayak and he started drifting away. When he discovered what was happening, the gap was growing fast. Holding a rifle in one hand and a large, steel, seal hook in the other, Schaeffer took a run and leaped, fearful that he might not make it across. He did. Just barely. And when he turned around to look, he estimated the gap to be 20 feet wide and widening rapidly. 

"That was the longest jump I ever made in my life, boy! Even my own pulse skipped a beat when I see that water.  It was a long jump, but I made it.  I just barely made it too. That, although I’m a pretty good swimmer I could swim a little ways before I get stiff.  Cold waters, I don’t think I could last very long."

Well, I have again taken a brief break from "Cocoon Mode" and believe me, I cannot afford the time that I have spent doing so.

But I wasn't accomplishing near as much as I would have hoped, anyway, and when I heard the story on the news, it made me angry.

Obama is right on health care. He is wrong in this. I hope that he will soon figure that out.

And any aide stupid and mean enough to come up with such a scheme ought to be fired.

The departure from Point Hope, back toward Barrow

When it came time to leave Point Hope, I caught a ride on the back of Mayor Steve Oomittuk's four-wheeler and we headed toward the airstrip. We had not gone far at all when Conrad Killigvuk came toward us with a smile and an outstretched hand.

We stopped, I shook Conrad's hand and then took this picture. He told me the baby's name but, darn, I have forgotten. He also asked for a copy of the picture. So maybe someone in Point Hope can direct him to it, have him click it to pop up a larger copy and then download it.

Or maybe you could download it and take it to him.

When we landed in Point Hope four days earlier and boarded the school bus that took us into the village, we saw this sign of welcome.

Just as I was getting ready to board the plane, Othniel Anaqulutuq Oomittuk Jr, "Art" the very fine sculptor and artist who created it from part of the boatskin that covered the umiak of Popsy Tingook, drove up in the senior to drop off a few Elders scheduled to return to Barrow on the same flight as me.

I asked the pilot to wait just a minute so that I could run over to the sign and take this picture of Art with his creation of welcome. The supporting frame is made from the jawbones of a bowhead whale.

And always, every minute that I spent in Tikigaq was one of welcome.

And then the Beechcraft turned from Point Hope and pointed its nose towards Barrow, 330 miles to the northeast.

Now... I had said that I would try to post a little bit of explanation and run down on the Arctic Economic Development Summit, but the fact is, I simply do not have the time - just as I have not had time to post but the tiniest hint of the photos that I have shot and the stories that I have gathered on this trip.

The project that I am working on is a huge one and does not leave me much time for the blog.

Counting this one, I have five more nights on the Slope and then I head home. I will then go into production mode on this project and that will include a serious edit of all the pictures that I have taken, and a cobbling together of the stories.

This won't leave me much time for the blog, either, but maybe I can dovetail my production work with this blog a bit and do a little catching, just the same.

Thirty-seven years ago, they founded and organized the North Slope Borough; now they are honored by the Borough

Many of their peers have since passed on, but here are a few of those who founded and helped to organize the North Slope Borough: the late Walter Nayakik of Wainwright, founder, represented by his son, Jimmy Nayakik; Frank Matumeak, of Nuiqsut, founder; Lloyd Ahvakana of Barrow, first Finance Director; Jon Buchholdt of Anchorage, special assistant to Eben Hopson, first Mayor; Billy Nashoalook of Wainwright, founder; the late Roosevelt Paneak of Anaktuvuk Pass, founder, represented by his son, Bruce; Fenton Rexford of Kaktovik, founder. Mayor Hopson is pictured in the painting that hangs on the wall behind them.

After oil was discovered at Prudhoe Bay in 1968, the oil companies and the State of Alaska began to negotiate between themselves on how to divvy up the wealth and royalties that would soon be pulled from the Iñupiat Arctic Slope homeland and shipped south through the Trans-Alaska Pipeline. They completely left the Iñupiat out of the equation.

The Iñupiat were the original owners of not only Prudhoe Bay but the entire Arctic Slope and all the wealth within it and they had never agreed to surrender or sell any of it. When the Alaska Native Land Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) was passed in 1971, Joe Upicksoun, the Arctic Slope representative, shouted out a thunderous "No!" when asked for his peoples' vote on whether or not to accept ANCSA as written.

Billy Nashoalook of Wainwright, Founder.

Still, without Iñupiat consent, the act passed. As far as the State, the Feds and the oil companies were concerned, the $1 billion that would be paid to the 13 Alaska Native regional corporations and over 220 village corporations that were to be formed across the state, was compensation enough.

It was also argued that all of Alaska's Natives had also been "given" 44 million of the 375 million acres that had sustained them and been their's under aboriginal title since time immemorial and that this was enough.

The Iñupiat did not see it that way. In a single day's lease sale at Prudhoe Bay, the oil companies had paid $1 billion for the right to explore for oil - because they knew that from that $1 billion, they would reap billions upon billions upon billions. This single day's lease take equalled the entire sum paid to all the Alaska Native nations -  not just the Iñupiat, but the Tlingit and Haida, Athabascan, Aleut, Yup'ik and every Alaska Native - for the 330 million acres of their traditional homelands that they would not be allowed to claim.

Frank Matumeak is congratulated by Mayor Edward Itta and Assembly President Eugene Brower.

The Iñupiat believed that if oil from their traditional lands was going to generate wealth to benefit the entire United States, a substantial portion of that wealth should be directed back to the Slope to benefit the people there.

Also, they felt that if there was going to be development in the Iñupiat homeland, the Iñupiat must have planning and zoning powers in order to protect environmentally sensitive places important to the animals, fish and birds that sustained them.

And so they determined that they would organize the strongest form of Borough government allowed under state law - one that would give them powers of taxation, planning and zoning. While that government would not receive royalties from oil development at Prudhoe Bay and nearby fields, it would be able to tax the property and physical structures of the oil companies - everything from pipelines to wells to housing quarters.

This would provide the funds needed to improve housing, build schools, medical facilties, power plants, water and sewer facilities, police deparments - the kinds of services that most Americans took for granted, but that scantly existed on the North Slope.

Fenton Rexford, Founder.

The Borough did organize and Eben Hopson, one of the men who led the push, was voted in as first Mayor. He is revered across the Slope and his achievements and legacy are highly honored among the Iñupiat. There were many others who played critical roles in that push, from the Reverend Samuel Simmonds to Charlie Edwardsen, Jr.

Many meetings and gatherings were held in all eight Slope village in the process of organizing the North Slope Borough and those individuals who did the organizing and signed the charter document are now known as the founders. Three who still live, along with the sons of two who are deceased, were honored in person for their achievement by Borough Mayor Edward Itta and the NSB Assembly at last week's assembly meeting.

The original founders present included Frank Matumeak of Nuiqsut, Billy Nashoalook of Wainwright and Fenton Rexford of Kaktovik. The late Roosevelt Paneak of Anaktuvuk Pass was represented by his son, Bruce, and the late Walter Nayakik of Wainwright by his son, Jimmy.

Jon Buccholdt. The ivory eagle on the table beside him was given to Buccholdt as a gift from Charlie Hopson, son of Eben Hopson, first mayor of the Borough.

Also honored was Lloyd Ahvakana, the Borough's first finance director and a close confidant and advisor to Hopson and Jon Buchholdt, special assistant to Eben Hopson, an attorney famed for his ability to innovate and to help advance Borough issues in the face of powerful and often hostile opponents.

While the journey has often been a rough one, on the whole the North Slope Borough has been remarkably successful. In every village there are modern, well-equipped schools, fire-stations, power plants, utilities, clinics, police stations, roads and maintenance and other facilities.

Lloyd Ahvakana, the Borough's first finance director.

Even so, subsistence hunting remains the primary source of sustenance for most of the Borough's Native people and even many of its non-Native residents. The Borough has stood up for subsistence rights, including the financial support it has given the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission in the fight to protect the bowhead whale hunt from a world that once sought to shut it down.

It has a wildlife department that funds and coordinates wildlife science to provide hard data on the health of Arctic animals.

"The Borough has been a fighting force for us," Matumeak said. He recalled that during the process that led to its founding, there were many worrying moments. Unlike a tribe, the Borough would not be a Native government, per se. Would outside forces work their way in and take the power away from the Iñupiat?

That has not happened, Matumeak says. He points with pride to the schools and other facilities that can be found in every village. He still would like to see more of the jobs that go to newcomers filled by Iñupiat and is positive that the Iñupiat can successfully do those jobs.

The three original founders who were honored in person: Frank Matumeak, Billy Nashoalook and Fenton Rexford. Rexford serves on the Assembly.

Billy Nashoalook recalled a moment of high drama in the organization process. He and others were flying back to Barrow after a village meeting in the red airplane with the flat tires when the landing gear got stuck in the up position. As their fuel neared empty and the time to land became imminent, the pilot finally managed to crank the gear down by hand.

A Citabria, a ragdoll and a baby

I had planned to leave for the Arctic Slope Sunday, but then Margie said that I should wait until Monday, to give whomever of our children might be around the chance to honor me on Father's Day. So I agreed to wait. By today, I realized that I could not possibly accomplish all that I must do before I leave by Monday, so I put the date of departure to Barrow off until Tuesday afternoon. Then Wednesday morning I will leave for Point Lay.

Having all this to do, I have basically spent the entire day sitting right here, where I sit now, in front of my computer, working my fingers off. And that is pretty much all that I will have time to do between now and my departure.

Still, I must walk a little bit, pedal a bike a little, and as I walked, an airplane flew overhead. Do you recognize it? It is a Citabria, like mine, like the one that I crashed on that dreadful day in Mentasta, Alaska.

And yet the day was so happy, for that was the day that Katie John celebrated her victory over the State of Alaska, the day that the right of she and her family to catch salmon at their traditional home was finally recognized.

And everybody who came to the celebration, from Governor Knowles to Katie's Athabascan attorney, Heather Kendall-Miller, drove by the wreckage of the Running Dog and they all said, "My goodness! Someone crashed an airplane. I hope no one was hurt."

And then they discovered that it was me that had crashed and I carried on, and photographed the celebration, because that is what I had come to Mentasta to do.

I got some good pictures, too. I wrote up a decent enough story.

Do you feel the longing?

And it is more than longing. Not having that airplane is a damned hardship. My jet ticket to Barrow will cost nearly $800. My roundtrip ticket from Barrow to Point Lay over $500. And then it is imperative that I visit as many of the other North Slope villages as I can.

All those tickets will cost money.

As airplanes go, the Running Dog was a gas sipper, not a guzzler, and I could even put car gas in it. I probably could have made the whole trip for not much more than the cost of that round trip fare between Barrow and Point Lay.

And I could come and go when it suited me, not on someone else's schedule. And I could carry more gear, including a good knife, a rifle and bullets, without ever going through security.

And it was a whole lot more fun.

As I walked, a lady friend from Serendipity picked me up and took me to her house for coffee. Her ragdoll cat was there and so was her husband. And a little dog.

We talked about moose and such.

My niece, Khena, delivered a baby today in Minneapolis.

Ada Lakshmi Iyer is the name of the little beauty and there are pictures of her on Facebook, taken by my sister, Mary Ann, the proud Gramma. Hey, baby sister - how can this word, "gramma," apply to you?

And yet, given the ages of our children, you and I could both have been grandparents over ten years ago.

Khena's proud husband, by the way, is Vivek, first cousin to Soundarya.

Vasanthi, Vivek's mother, is planning to move in with them in September to help take care of the baby and will stay until January. Come the Minnesota winter, she will have a brand new experience.

But then I know India Indian people who live and work on the Arctic Slope, so I suspect that she will do okay, but there will probably be times when she won't like it at all.