2009 in review - April: begins with moose in the yard; ends on a crazy-hot day on the Arctic ice

April began with a mama and her calf, dining in our backyard.

This is Jim, an amateur weatherman who I sometimes come across while walking. Our winter was drawing to its end. Jim had recorded 57 days below zero at his house, several in the - 30's and a few in the - 40's. Total snowfall had been eight feet.

Wasilla, of course, is in one of Alaska's moderate climate zones.

It discourages and depresses me to walk through Serendipity too often, but occasionally I do. I did this day and Muzzy came with me. I don't know how he manages to store up so much pee, but he marked every single property on his side of the street as his.

When we entered break-up for real, I got my bike out and started to pedal. You can see I still had the brace on my right wrist. I did not yet know it, and would have thought the opposite, but bike riding would prove to be great physical therapy for my wrist and shoulder.

As long as I didn't crash.

Becky, a young neighbor who lives on Seldon, gave Muzzy some love.

I saw this little character in the Post Office parking lot.

This happened on one of those mornings that I had to get out of the house and go get breakfast at Family Restaurant. These two guys had a nice little conversation and I am certain that it was friendly.

This guy stepped onto the side of the road to remind everybody they had to pay their taxes. Thanks to my injury, I had made very little money in 2008 and hardly had to pay any tax at all.

This year, I have made a decent income, but 2008 put me so deep into the hole that it does not feel like it at all. It feels like I am drowning, going under and maybe I am.

It would be okay if it were just me, because I could move into a shack and blog about it, but I hate to take Margie there. She has gone through so much and given up so much just to be with me these past few decades. She deserves much better than that.

It looks like tax time will be hell.

But I have 3.5 months to figure it out, so maybe it will be okay.

Many times in my career, I have brought us to the very brink.

And always, something has come along to save us.

By Easter, the snow had largely left our yard. We hid Easter eggs in the bare parts. Kalib went out and found them. We did not really hide them that good.

Kalib was pleased to discover that he could use guacamole to stick a chip to his face.

As I prepared to go north, Kalib played harpoon the whale. Kalib was the harpooner, Muzzy the whale.

Size ratio just about right.

I was glad to be going north, but it was very hard to leave this guy.

To me, what you are looking at is still a bit unbelievable. I had never imagined that I would see such a thing. The date is April 27, the place, Barrow, Alaska.

Barrow does not look like this on April 27. In Barrow, everything is frozen solid on April 27. On April 27, the temperature is either below zero F, or just a few degrees above. The wind drives a continual flow of snow low over the hardened drifts.

But not this April 27. On this April 27, the snow was melting. The air felt warm. No one living had ever before seen such a thing here, nor was there any record of this having ever happened, prior to this year. No one living who knows this place at all would have believed they ever would see such a thing.

It was causing problems for the whale hunters, making ice conditions dangerous.

I would like to say that this was a complete fluke and that no one will ever see it happen again - and it did finally freeze up again - but, these days, with the summer sea ice receding to unheard of levels, with polar bears and walrus losing the summer ice they need to live on, with animals, fish, and birds that have never been here before coming up from the south, with new species of plants taking root...

Willie Hensley of Kotzebue came to Barrow while I was there and did a reading, slide show and book signing for his autobiography, Fifty Miles From Tomorrow.

I bought a copy, had him sign it and then read it on the jet to India.

It kept me completely absorbed.

What a childhood he had, living the old time Iñupiaq life - and then to go on to fill a lead role in the movement that led to the Alaska Native Land Claims Settlement Act and after that to become a politician, corporate leader and now an author.

This is one of those books that anyone who loves Alaska should read.

Might I also suggest that you read Gift of the Whale, too, if you haven't already?

You don't need to buy it - go find it in a library somewhere.

After several days in Barrow, I bought a ticket to Wainwright, thinking that after I spent a short time there, I would buy another to Point Lay. But I was about to discover that now that only one commuter airline serves the Arctic coast, they don't even let you do that anymore

If you want to fly from Barrow to Wainwright and then on to Point Lay, you have to buy two round trip tickets from Barrow, one to each place. That is kind of taking a trip from San Francisco to Portland and Seattle, only to find you have to buy two separate round trip tickets, one from San Francisco to Portland, and then back to San Francisco and then to Seattle.

And the prices!

If I had done both villages, my trip from Anchorage to Barrow, Wainwright and Point Lay would have cost me more than the round trip I had pending that would take me from Anchorage to Bangalore, India.

HOW RIDICULOUS IS THAT??????

In the photo above, the airplane is landing in Atqasuk, enroute to Wainwright.

For you in the south, please remember, no roads connect the villages of the Arctic to each other.

Whyborn Nungasuk boarded the plane in Atqasuk, headed for Wainwright. For those of you who have read Gift of the Whale, Whyborn is the man who organized the search for Harry Norton. He is one of those people that I am always glad to see.  I thought he must be going to do a little whaling, because Atqasuk is a land-locked village and Whyborn has often whaled in Wainwright.

"You headed to Wainwright to go whaling?" I asked.

"Not whaling," he said, "to talk about Jesus."

That night, they were having the regularly scheduled Wednesday singspiration at the Wainwright Presbyterian Church. I stopped by, to listen the listen to the gospel singing.

At a certain point, Whyborn got up to make a testimony. He told of a recent fall whale hunt that he been on in Barrow. A whale had been taken, and then roped to the boats that would pull it the landing site. Whyborn was in one of those boats, but something went wrong and he was accidently jerked out out of that boat by the rope and into the water.

He went under, and he stayed under long enough to begin to drown, perhaps to drown altogether.

As he drowned, he found himself in a pleasant, warm, place. "There were beautiful flowers, and beautiful butterflies, flying," he said. "Jesus was there."

Whyborn liked that place. He was glad to have arrived.

Then hands took hold of his parka and pulled him out of the water. Those who pulled him out revived him.

When he came too and saw that he was still alive, Whyborn looked at his brother, who had helped to save him.

"Why did you bring me back?" he asked. 

"Death," Whyborn said, "holds no fear for me now."

My wrist was still in a brace. My shoulder still hurt 100 percent of the time and felt fragile to me. I had a fear that I could not stand up to the rigors of the whaling life. I did not plan to go on the ice.

But on April 30, Jason headed out to make a boat ramp where the lead had briefly been, where he hoped it would open again. His younger sister had been planning to go out and help, but she had hurt her wrist, and couldn't.

So a snowmachine was available. I climbed on that snowmachine and found that if I did not grip the throttle in the usual way but pushed it forward with my thumb supported against my brace, I could drive it. At first, I tried to fit a glove over my hand and brace, but the weather was so warm that I found I didn't even need the glove so I took it off.

The fellow with the red on his hat in the background, that's Iceberg 14 co-whaling captain Jason Ahmaogak. The young man chucking the block of ice out of the boat ramp is Jerry Ahmaogak.

This would prove to be one of the hardest whaling seasons on record, all up and down the Arctic coast.

But in June, well after the hunt would normally have ended, Jason would guide the Iceberg 14 boat to the only whale that Wainwright would land. Jerry would harpoon it. Young Benny Ahmaogak, who is also out here building the boat ramp, would fire the shoulder gun.

Preaching, feeding and healing at First Native Baptist; late though it be, our first cold snap finally arrives: NC on Rogue release

I had gone to Anchorage to do an interview and get a couple of photographs of an 11 year-old boy who fed the first bull caribou that he ever shot to the homeless people who gather each Sunday at the First Native Baptist Church in Anchorage to be fed. 

I misunderstood a little bit, as I thought that the feeding would begin at 3:00 PM, so I made certain to be there on time. In actuality, a church service lasting just over an hour is held first, and then the feeding follows.

I had not intended to take any pictures during the service, but then this fellow was called up to speak. Alalsredo lives in Bangalore, India, where I have many in-laws. His stay in Alaska would be short. As I write these words, he should already be on a jet to continue his tour, which will now take him to several cities in the Lower 48.

"Why would I come from India to preach in the US?" he asked. His answer: Jesus had called him to travel across our nation, stop in all the churches that he could along the way and deliver this specific message:

The people of the US - particularly the church people - need each day to get down on their knees and pray to God. If they don't, he warned, "then this great nation of the United States will fall."

He said that the reason Jesus had sent him specifically to the church people of the United States is because they are God's choice people.

Afterward, he announced that he wanted to call up one person, at random, to pray for that person. He chose this young woman. She came up and he prayed for her.

I had my professional digital SLR's with me to do the picture of the boy, but I did not touch them during the worship service. I tried real hard not to take any more pictures at all, but I could not altogether stop myself, so I did them with my pocket camera, which is perfectly quiet, whereas the DSLR's are noisy.

I had been greeted by one of the pastors when I first entered, and he had expressed his admiration for my professional DSLR's, as if he expected that I had come to use them, so I assume it would have been okay. Yet, they felt too intrusive so I stuck to the pocket camera and even then only shot a little over a dozen frames.

I think one day I might come back and do a complete story on the church's feed-the-homeless program and then, after I have spent more time with them and gotten to know them better, I will photograph the happenings to greater depth.

There was a time to call for healing. This man was suffering pain in his legs. Maybe he felt better afterward, I don't know. I could not take the time to follow-up, but had to do the job that I had come to do.

This woman suffered so badly that she wept. I hope she felt better when it was all over. As for the young man who I came to interview and to photograph, it all came together excellently. I am saving those pictures, though, until I put them to their intended use.

The temperature in Anchorage had been about five degrees, but when we got home last night it was ten below. This morning, at 9:28, it was -18 (-28 C.). So it looks like we have finally entered our first cold snap. Not terribly cold yet, but still a cold snap.

I decided to check online and see what the official temperatures were at a few other Alaska locations, including true cold spots, like Fort Yukon. I had expected that it might be in the -40's, possibly even -50s, there, but it was -31. Fairbanks, a much colder place than Wasilla, was exactly the same as us: -18. Barrow was in the grip of a heat wave: PLUS one.

Anchorage was two above.

In some ways, this is not fair to Anchorage, as the official temperature is taken at the airport, right by Cook Inlet and there are other places in the city that can be 5, 10, 15, or even as much as 20 degrees colder.

I might add that I have checked our car thermometer against official sources and it is amazingly accurate.

The Little Su.

Grotto Iona.

Two moose - momma and calf.

Sarah Palin releases her book:

As if you didn't know. In theory, being as how I am a Wasilla blogger and Wasilla's most famous resident seems at the moment to be the biggest news story in the world, what with the release of Going Rogue, I suppose that I should be writing about Sarah Palin today.

But 42 million people are already doing that and I have other concerns, so I have "no comment."

Not that I couldn't write about her today - I just choose not to.

That circus can tumble on without me.

A short walk on a beautiful, snowy, day

Oh, damnit! I put up all those posts last Thursday so that I would not have to put any up this week and what am I doing? Putting up new posts every day! 

Well, a very nice snow was falling as I walked and I thought, "I will get one image and add it as an addendum to the Family Restaurant post" that I had originally scheduled to go up in this time slot.

But after I got home, I wanted to share the entire walk, so here it is, beginning with these three girls, Tristan, Trimilin and Destiny, just a way's down Sarah's Way. Actually, I doubt that Trimilin's name is Trimilin at all, but that's how I remember. I stand to be corrected.

Oh well. It shouldn't take that long to post this.

I will just move the catch-up Family Restaurant post that was going to go up this morning to Sunday, November 15. It took place on a Sunday, anyway.

I was walking down Ward's when I got a feeling to turn around and look behind me. When I did, I saw these two young moose crossing the road. I think their mom must have already crossed when I was looking the other way.

After I turned away from the moose, I saw this pickup, being spun in brodies atop the Ward's Road hill.

Brody spin #2.

Brody spin #3.

Brody spin, #4.

A different truck coming down the hill.

Tracks left by the brody-spinning truck.

Back on Sarah's Way - a lady who has two dogs shovels her driveway.

Moose poops on the run, Tequilla acts angry, I find three moose and the lakes finally freeze over

I set out on my walk a bit before noon and soon came upon this moose poop, scattered down the road. All I could conclude is that the moose who dropped these dozens of nuggets was running and pooping simultaneously. Why? A dog? Naughty children, throwing rocks?

Or was the moose just in a hurry to get somewhere and couldn't wait?

Maybe it was this dog - Tequilla. I don't think so. Tequilla lives too far away from where the moose poop was spread down the road. True, I walked the distance easy enough and she could have, too, but I doubt that she did.

On the upper marsh, I found this puddle frozen into a deep gouge left by someone on a four-wheeler.

I descended into the lower marsh, where I found a momma moose and her two yearling calves. Was it one of them who had ran, pooping, down the road?

Finally - Wasilla Lake has frozen over! Now, all we need is snow. On the other hand, the ice skaters will probably be glad if it doesn't snow for awhile. There are places near here where an ice-skater can go for miles and miles and miles, between freeze-up and the first snow.

I just heard the Anchorage forecast on the radio: zero to ten degrees (F) tonight, depending where in town one is. Tomorrow, even though it has taken so long to cool off this year, a warm front will move in already. El Niño. That's probably why. Temperatures will rise into the 30's and bring rain or snow, or snow and rain mixed.

During a cold snap, we tend to be markedly cooler out here than in Anchorage - just as we are hotter during a heat wave. I hope there is no rain, but only snow.

I did not go around to check all of the many lakes in this area, but, if Wasilla Lake froze, then you can be reasonably certain that all the lakes did.

Just in case you are wondering, I was on my coffee break here. Margie stayed home to watch "Countdown" and had me drop a couple of bill payments off and that is why I came into this part of town.

Closing view of Wasilla Lake, finally frozen over, at the beach I call "Wasilla Malibu" in honor of the bikini-clad gals who gather here in the summer to taunt the guys who want them.

Cocoon mode* - day 6: I conduct a scientific experiment involving the rain, my bike, a pickup truck and a cow moose

Come noon each day that I was in India, I was quite taken by the fact that my shadow was directly beneath me. This, of course, was because the equatorial sun hung pretty-much directly overhead. Here in Alaska, even at noon in June, the sun always angles its way in, so one's shadow always falls away from him. It never appears directly beneath him.

Or so I have always believed.

Then, this morning, I was riding my bike through the rain when I looked down and saw what appeared to be my shadow, directly beneath me. I reasoned that this was because the rain-filled clouds had dispersed the sun's rays, causing them to come down upon me from all angles, as if from a big, dome-shaped lightbox, but that fewer of those dispersed rays actually struck the ground directly beneath me - hence, the shadow.

But then I got to wondering if it was a shadow that I was seeing beneath me at all. Perhaps it was just the reflection of myself and the bicycle, caused by the thin layer of water upon the pavement and it only looked like a shadow because too much of the light was being absorbed by the pavement to reflect the colors back.

I noticed that when cars and trucks drove past, I could see their reflections on the wet pavement, traveling directly beneath them.

So I was very confused. I decided that I would take a picture of a truck passing by and then study the reflection beneath it and see what I could learn.

So here is the picture. I have studied it and I have learned nothing.

Later, I took my coffee break in my car. By now, the rain had ceased. Just before I reached home, I saw this cow moose standing in someone's driveway. I decided to continue the experiment and so photographed her posing with her shadow.

I figured that once I got home and could sit down and take a good look at this picture, all my questions would be answered.

As you can see, very strange things are happening with the shadow of this moose.

I end the day in an even greater state of confusion than I began it.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.