7/17/14
Kotzebue, Alaska
“You should have gotten here two days ago, the weather was
beautiful.” It seems to be a common
theme, not the first time we’ve heard similar words. Alaskan weather is, for the most part, for
the lack of a better word, shitty.
Granted, we have really gotten the brunt of it. So many places we have visited have had
terrible weather for the day of our activity, only for it to be beautiful the
day before or after. It has really
fucked up some elements of our trip.
Starting with the hurricane that chased us out of New York, almost
cancelling our outbound flight, this trip has singularly been about the
weather. It rained twice during my
Eurotrip. Both times were when I was
driving very early in the morning, and it cleared up by the time I got to my
first stop. We would have no such luck
on this trip. During our July 4th
boatride, which was supposed to be the highlight of our trip, the thing that
was going to set the tone for the whole trip, miserable rain turned it from
something that could have had a very high enjoyment value to something that was
pure fulfillment value. The next three
days, while we explored the land based portion of The WHS, we actually had some
really good weather. In fact, it was the
only time we had good weather during the whole trip.
I didn’t mind getting wet a little, though it may very well have
contributed to my foot injury. I quickly
learned that wearing shorts and sandals would not be an option, the weather
being too unpredictable for that, even though I did get one nice day out of
that outfit, the one bad day practically cancelled it out. Then came the day for our charter flight,
what was supposed to be the triumphant conclusion to Phase 1. Cancelled on account of weather. The days before and after had nice weather,
and the weather was actually good in Homer during the afternoon, but there was
no way to fly through the mountains, and seasoned pilots were grounding all of
their flights. I suppose that was what
broke me, what turned the enjoyment of The WHS into a trip that would be mostly
about fulfillment value, collecting what enjoyment I could. When we flew to Barrow, the weather was so
bad we almost couldn’t land. It was a
fucking tundra! How could they have
rain? In fact, the weather was so bad
they had been cancelling flights all week.
We were very fortunate to make it through. When we got there, they told us that the
weather would be really nice on Sunday.
We were leaving on Saturday.
Then
came Denali. A clear day would mean
magnificent views of Mount McKinley. The
forecasts varied among clear, cloudy, and rainy. We got cloudy, which meant that we could do
our nature walks but that we couldn’t see McKinley. The clouds started to part just as we
left. Next was the Dalton. We got hit by the worst rain they had in
years, decades maybe. That was the day
we chose to drive, and that was the day we got stuck in the mud and fucked up
our car. When we finally made it
Kotzebue, the weather was shitty here again, but we somehow managed to do our
first day of flying, and the second day is looking good, even if slightly
delayed. We made all of our landings on
the first day but had to take some circuitous routes to do it. We were told that the weather two days ago,
the day we drove the Dalton, was beautiful.
Oh, the irony.
Aboard Northwestern Aviation N4557F, En route to Kotzebue (PAOT)
While we did not get to see Bering Land Bridge NPres, my time in
Kotzebue did give us what we needed to say, “North American Mainland Arctic
Complete.” I couldn’t think of a way to
include my Northern Canada Compete into that mix, so I had to settle for
something that effectively just meant officially visiting every NPS north of
the Arctic Circle. The reason that we
couldn’t include Bering Land Bridge NPres was actually not the weather, but
rather Dutch Time. Jim had to push
everything back because of the weather, yes, but it took another hour after
that from the time he got back to the office to the time we were in the
air. We woke up early, and I took my
shower. I knew that Sokol would never be
ready in time, so I headed down to breakfast while Sokol took his. He would wind up trading breakfast for that
extra sleep. It was a perfectly decent
buffet at a reasonable price, especially for Northern prices. After breakfast, as I was getting ready, I
tried to call the office, but no dice.
Then the phone rang. Sokol and I
looked at each other in a panic. When I
had walked into the room, there was still a hint of smoke smell. Had they figured it out? No, it was Linda telling us we had the
morning off. Weather was holding us up,
and we should check in again with her at 12:30 PM. I wrote my morning entry, read my emails, did
whatever I might do to kill time, reading the news, checking Facebook. We needed to check out by 11 AM, so we did
that and then headed next door for lunch.
Sokol had napped the whole time, so it was really breakfast for
him. The meal was really good, more
Chinese food for me, a steak sandwich for Sokol. We then headed to the office, but Linda said
we needed to wait until Jim got back in two hours. It was fine.
We would still have time for Cape Krusterstern NM, and we could try for
Bering Land Bridge NPres if we had time.
We spent an hour or so walking around town, smoking cigars (a Gurkha
for me, a Cheap Bastard for Sokol), and looking for souvenirs. Our first stop was the general store, and
Sokol just asked someone, “Do you know where the store is?” “It’s just down the road on the left.” And so it was. They had t-shirts and a cheap, windproof
lighter, which has been a real boon. No
keychains. We stopped at four different
places, the first three of which pointed us to another store. The last one, the NPS VC, told us no
dice. Long done with our cigars, we
headed back to the office, and Jim was just getting there. By the time Jim had gassed up the plane, and
we were ready to go, I knew that to try for Bering Land Bridge NPres would be a
fool’s errand. I wasn’t going for Alaska
Complete, nor was I even going for USA/CAN north of the 60th
Parallel Complete. It was just another
NPS.
We needed to wear high boots to
trudge through the swamp to the float plane, and the boots were a boon once we
got off the plane at the NM. Cape
Krusterstern is an ancient native hunting ground, for thousands of years, they
would set up camp along the waterfronts to hunt for marine mammals. They still do, and we saw plenty of cabins on
route.
Once we landed, it was desolate
wasteland as far as the eye could see, just empty tundra. I lit up my Davidoff, while Sokol had a fake
Cohiba. We took our first official Us of
the NM into the swamp and then walked around for a bit. Sokol commented that the ground felt like a
bouncy castle and challenged me to a jumping contest. My foot was not fully recovered, so I had to
turn him down. I wanted to get some
rocks, but, remembering the sand dunes, I tested it with the boot first. No dice.
They were “fake rocks.” In the
end, I found some real rocks. After the
cigars, we got back on the plane, Sokol dropping his sunglasses into the swamp
(he found them), and I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close,
as we are making our approach to the airport lagoon.
Ralph Wien Memorial Airport, Alaska (OTZ)
I have written about the outrageous food prices here in Northern
communities, and one of the best examples is the outrageous price of soup at
the Chinese restaurant. I don’t know if
the soups are fuller or bigger like a whole or if they are just an overpriced
cup of soup. I could get a whole gallon
of egg drop soup from Hop Won for the same price. In all my visits to these communities, I have
not once ordered soup. As we were
walking from the office to the Alaska Airlines terminal, I told Sokol that, the
next time I was in one of these communities, I would order the soup just to see
what it was. As soon as I said that, I
realized that it might be a very long time before I venture above the 60th
Parallel west of Greenland again. All
that remains to me in Canada is below the 60th Parallel, and there
will be nothing left for me in Alaska for quite some time if tomorrow goes
well. I suppose that Greenland will have
similar prices, but do they serve Chinese food in Greenland?
As we prepare to get on the flight that will
take us back to Anchorage, I cannot help but be saddened by this concept. In all of travels, no place has given me more
of a culture shock than these communities.
I have now taken 4 trips and visited seven of these communities, maybe
more. Before I arrived in Fort Simpson,
I had seen Native Americans before, but I always thought of them as localized
to the Southwest, in small reservations, never once considering that there
would be whole cities, whole regions, that had a majority of a native
population. In fact, probably most of
the geographic area of North America still has a predominantly native
population. There are a lot of negative
things to be said about this population, but I will not include that. To me, it is a part of a place I love too
much to criticize its population. I love
the North. There is nothing like in the
world. From the desolate tundra, to the
soaring mountains, to the expansive forests, every bit of it is wonderful. The cold preserves.
Alaska is like Seattle on steroids. The coastal regions only paling in comparison
in beauty to the mountainous interior.
Even the boring parts have their own beauty. It is a way of living that would appeal to me
if I were not so devoted to the city. In
McCarthy, they only had locks on the bathroom doors, and I’m quite sure a
vacant/occupied hanging sign would have worked just as well, except people
would forget to turn it. In Iqaluit,
people would leave their cars running while they went in to the grocery store, and
I’m sure it is the same in many other parts of the North during the
winter.
I love the idea of places so
remote, so untouched, that they are only connected by air. In each of these places the hotel has been
the biggest building in the city, and everyone knew where everything was. Everyone knows what time “the jet” or “the
evening jet” lands and leaves. The
airport terminal just has the one gate.
You can easily walk from the airport to the hotel in some of them, while
others require a short drive. Sokol
asked me how people here afford the high food prices, and I answered quite
simply. Rent is probably practically
nothing here. In New York, people might
spend 50-75% of their net salary on rent.
That is very atypical for human civilization. Ever since the invention of money, food was
the single biggest expense of the working class. Here, in a place where not much has changed,
that, too, remains the same. Sure, they
can’t grow or raise any food here. The
natives and the locals hunt their own meat, which helps a lot, but the white
folk need to buy meat, and they all need to buy produce. What they save on rent they put back into
food. I do not imagine people here have
much disposal income. I saw a listing
how the poorest places tend to have the highest costs of living for
outsiders. With the hotel and food
prices here, that is quite true of the North.
My father and I both agree that Nordic women tend to be the most
beautiful women in the world, and I go one step further, including what I call
“the Northern look,” which means descendants of Scandinavian immigrants, maybe
mixed a little with some continental ancestors.
I think that I like that look better because I love the North more than
I love Germany and Denmark, though I have not seen much of Scandinavia. The next time I venture above the 60th
Parallel will be a 9-day journey to try and say “Finno-Scandinavia Complete,”
and I have no doubt I will love it as much as I love North America above the 60th
Parallel. After that, I will still have
Iceland and Greenland, which I suspect I might love even more than anywhere
else in the North, especially since the way I have it planned will be one of
the most relaxing extended trips I take.
Some people like the Caribbean or Florida or California coast. To me, the most beautiful nature in the world
is, and always will be, the North.
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