A new pair of mukluks for Royce

Young Royce Rock assists his aaka (grandmother), Ramona Rock, by holding down the pattern that will make the shapes to cover his foot as she traces it onto a section of polar bear hide. She is making making mukluks for him.

A couple days later, the mukluks are done. Royce lifts up his foot as Aaka Ramona prepares to encase it in the left mukluk.

Royce takes his first stroll in his new mukluks. His aaka is Athbascan, raised in Nenana as the daughter of a river boat owner and pilot. Although her father is gone now, The Ramona, the river boat that he named for her, still plies the Tanana and Yukon Rivers.

Ramona adjusted well to life on the Arctic Coast and for years has been the Point Hope high school Tikigaq Harpooners girls basketball coach, often co-coaching with her son, Rex Jr., Royce's dad.

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Children at play in Tikigaq

Given the task that will keep me busy all through the day, deep into the night and possibly all of the night, I am again going to post just one picture - this study that I took in Point Hope on May 4: Two kids at play in the snow by snowmachine and sled.

As for today, June 12, in Wasilla, it has begun beautifully. Although there are clouds over the mountains to the north, the sun is shining, the temperature is in the mid-fifties and it feels wonderful outside.

It is just the kind of day that I do not want to be stuck indoors, but I am. The whole week will be like this, I fear, and most of the next too.

Even so, I took my morning walk and, come night, I will take an hour break, jump on my bike and go pedal somewhere.

Seabirds, passing by Tikigaq

As we wait on the ice edge for whales, seabirds come passing by - including these three murres and an eider.

Hoping to finally finish my Tikigiq series and move on to Barrow, I pulled out 26 pictures for today's post, but that took all the time I have. I must move on to other things.

So for today, these birds are all you get to see.

But the photos are now selected. Maybe I will run them all tomorrow, or maybe over two days, three days.

I am in the midst of a huge task that must be done soon and I really have no time to spare for this blog right now.

So don't be surprised if it takes me at least two more days to post those pictures - maybe three.

Featured in Lens - The New York Times photography, video and visual journalism blog

I will be lazy today and just reference you here:

http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/06/10/a-warm-feeling-for-the-arctic

There are a few little mistakes - I was born in Utah but raised in Oregon, Montana and California, and I would like my late father to receive the credit for being the one who first recited Robert Service to me and so created a vivid image of Alaska and the far north in my head. 

Not mentioned was the fact that my recent work on the Arctic Slope and in behalf of the North Slope Borough has been motivated, inspired and pushed by the grass roots Iñupiat-driven Healthy Communities Movement to counter the effects of alcohol and drug abuse and a few of the pictures do come from that coverage and were done in that context.

That noted, Lens is one of the best things out there in online photojournalism and photography and I feel greatly honored and thankful to be featured within.

The lovely, the not so lovely and more lovely

Late last night, a long-anticipated but completely unexpected task arose that kept me going until 3:15 AM and then took up still a bit more time after I arose this morning. The upshot is that I do not have time to prepare the entry that I planned for today - the entry that I anticipated would wrap up my Point Hope wanderings.

So I am going to keep it very simple with a few wandering-Wasilla-by-bike-and-foot images, beginning with this one, which I took the night before I suddenly fell so ill I could not eat anything.

I was out riding my bike about 9:00 or 10:00 PM and it was a beautiful, exquisite night. The air temperature was probably a bit above 50 degrees and the bike breeze felt wonderful against my skin. As I was pedaling fast down the bike trail on Seldon, I saw these three sitting atop the hill ahead of me.

Normally, I would have just snapped off three or four frames as I pedaled past and if I got something, fine, if I didn't, that was fine too.

But the three looked so lovely in the light of the night-time sun that I just had to brake my bike and shoot the picture right.

"You all look wonderful in this beautiful light," I shouted up the hill. "I must take your picture!"

They smiled and said, "thank you."

I took the picture.

"Beautiful!" I shouted up the hill.

"Thank you!" the young woman shouted down to me.

"Thank you," I shouted back to her.

Tuesday, I had felt so rotten that I did not eat, I did not leave the house and I spent somewhere between 16 and 18 hours lying flat on my back and the rest just sitting about in miserable stupor.

I still felt ill Wednesday morning, but was improving. I could not handle oatmeal, but I did scramble some eggs and both Margie and I were able to eat them.

Finally, I stepped into the open air and took a walk. I came upon this scene. At this size, the words scrawled on the 2 x 4 are very hard to read, but if you could see the picture full size then you could clearly and easily read:

"NO TRESSPASS  this Means you I HAVE NO FRIENDS WHEN I'M NOT Home I WiLL KILL."

I do not know these people and do not know what they may have experienced that has put this kind of fear into them, but I do know their dog, although I have not seen it in quite awhile. In my nearly 29 years of wandering about Wasilla on foot bike, and before they built Serendipity and took away my access to the woods, by ski, I have met many, many, many dogs.

Most have been friendly, many have tried to act tough at first but then have proved to be false toughies and a few have been truly mean, nasty, snarly and snappy - but only one has actually bitten me. The dog from this place.

By last night, I was feeling much, much, better and so was Margie. Again, the air was wonderfully cool. I got on my bike and I pedaled as hard and fast as I could down to the Little Susitna, across the bridge and a short distance beyond.

When I came back, I again decided to make a stop instead of a pedal-by-picture and so braked and shot this image from the middle of the bridge.

Normally, I would have been in a hurry to just keep moving and so, even if I had stopped to shoot the scene from the bridge, that would have been it. I would have continued right back on, leaving the couple to enjoy the night alone. Perhaps it was because I suddenly felt well and good after being so suddenly, but thankfully shortly, ill, but now I felt like I wanted to meet this couple, show them the picture I had just taken of them and tell them about this blog.

So I pedaled down to the bank and right up to them.

It was Luke and Lauren, both of Wasilla. Neither had been to this spot on the Little Su, but were glad they had discovered it tonight.

So was I.

I shot this closer scene of them and then pedaled home, so that I could get back to work.

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