11. Wildlife Includes Humans

July 10, 1994

Greetings everyone with more notes from North Pole.

Truly the land of the mid-night sun. I don"t understand why any Alaskan complains about the long dark winters. It will take that long to recover from the summer when no one sleeps. Kids are on the streets at 2am and the sun shines in our bedroom window at 11pm. We have gotten over the major hurdle of summer. No, not the light, mosquitoes. This annual plague does make it easier to identify newcomers. They are the ones that don't smell like DEET. By the first week of June, the rest of us have gooped on so much of the stuff that we have a permanent odor. Diana and I learned that caribou can lose up to a pint of blood a day to the unofficial Alaska state bird. How many mosquito bites are in a pint? Plumb scary!

Diana wanted to see Coal Creek where we have our in-park operations, so she volunteered to assist with our inventory. I failed to tell her that one of the seasonal staff stationed there had quit because of the mosquitoes. But, I was smart enough to get her some bug armor. This is a hooded, long-sleeve, net jacket. You put it in a zip-lock bag, pour in half a bottle of an insect repellant (with maximum strength DEET), allow it to sit for a day and it is good for a few hours. The mosquitoes still swarm around you, but you get used to seeing the world through a moving sea of black dots and definitely see the silver lining in this dark cloud. They aren't biting. You still have to spray your face, hands, and even trousers (they can bite through blue jeans) with DEET. Our crew have taken to buying Carhart trousers and dyeing them green. Found out they are almost mosquito proof.

One old timer told me that it is the anti-coagulant they inject that does the itching. "Just let them fill up and they will suck it all back out. It won't even leave a welt. It also makes revenge easier, 'cause they're easier to swat. Course the blood smears are kind of messy when they are full" he advises.

I also failed to tell Diana about the plague of bears we were having at Coal Creek. Luckily, she did not see a bear. Lucky for me not for her. We are getting several bear encounters per week, but no one hurt yet (can't talk about no one being scared). The rangers and I decided that it would be best to initiate a program called "behavior modification" or "aversive reaction". We are a preservation organization and rangers shooting bears is not considered to be "positive publicity". Now "behavior modification" is aimed at the bears not our rangers and visitors. It really amounts to shooting a bear in the butt with a rubber bullet, while another person fires an explosive charge over its head. Once shots have been fired, folks will beat on pans and scream at the bear so it associates the whole experience with humans. The only problem is that the literature also says you have to get real close and that there is some chance of adverse reactions to the aversive reaction program. This means that the bear takes offense at behavior modification and may try his own form of behavioral modification.

At first, all of the staff thought that this was a fantastic triumph for bear management and modern psychology. They agreed that it was an excellent tool for the Coal Creek bears. Total agreement is not something that comes often to park rangers. I also found out that it does not last long. Turned out that no two people could agree on who would do the shooting. When it was pointed out that we wanted a good shot, those who fired expert pointed out that if you got close anyone could hit a bear's butt with a shotgun. Seasonals noted that it should be a permanent employee so that any questions arising next winter could be answered. We finally hit on a solution. Four people would participate, one with the "butt bullet", one with the explosive charge, and two with a 12 gauge loaded with rifled slugs. So much for trusting in modern psychology, technology and park management.

We were all prepared. I remembered that the Park Service loves the inclusion of safety messages in any activity. "Anything in the plan about safety", I asked. "Like avoid shooting the superintendant?"

"The only thing I can find," the Chief Ranger related, "is to be sure the explosive charge is not fired beyond the bear. It will run from it!"

We decided to leave bear behavior modification to the experts.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing about Alaska is that surprises never cease. Even the oldest residents expressed amazement at an announcement in this morning's newspaper which stated in bold type LAST WARNING!. It went on to note "I'm on my way back to my home in the Brook's Range. I don't want to harm anyone, but I will take precautions to defend myself and my property. The wheels of justice have been set in motion and will roll over those of you who deserve it, because of what you've done to me!" Followed by the printed name and signature of Tom Goggins.

Unusual! But then, Diana could have used a message of this type before her last trip to Eagle. She was with a tour group when one of the local "characters" came limping by on his crutches (his feet were frozen and toes amputated last winter) with a rifle on his back. He went out onto the airstrip adjacent to our offices, unlimbered his rifle, emptied his clip into an airplane, took out a .44 mag. pistol to continue his assault on the aircraft, picked up his crutches, limped back over to the well-house, got a drink of water, and calmly went back to his camp on the river. Diana has no objection to hunting, but says the game really should be edible.

The uninsured plane belonged to a local Baptist Missionary who, upon learning of the destruction of his vehicle, joined the ranks of "local characters". He forgot to turn the other cheek, grabbed his rifle and went hunting the guy who had "cast the first stone".

Meanwhile, the village protection officer was in training 600 miles away. This left only my park rangers to fill the gap, even though we were outside of our jurisdiction. I put them between the shooter and town (since everyone in Eagle was armed by this time, I was not sure who was being protected from whom). I called the Alaska State Troopers and asked that they come take over. No problem, they would have a plane load of troopers on the way in 15-20 minutes.

A half hour later, I called for an estimated time of arrival for the troopers. They were very apologetic when they advised me that they had to call this plane back because of a murder in Tok. However, they were flying another plane from Tok up to Delta Junction (100 miles), picking up a trooper (not exactly a plane load!) and a game ranger (because something had gone wild?), and then on to Eagle (200 miles).

Four hours after I called, they arrived to take over the case. They easily captured (after all he couldn't run) the culprit and hauled him off to jail. His "final shot" was the comment that he would return to "burn the town down and get even with the evil people". I don't know if the "evil people" have commented, but the word is out that, should he return, "he had better be a good swimmer". I believe that this is a reference to the Yukon River which flows swift and deep past Eagle (hides a multitude of sins, or sinners!).

Diana and I drove out to Eagle. What an experience! We drove 200 miles down the Alcan to Tok before turning off onto the unpaved, incredibly dusty, extremely rough Taylor Highway. This 200 miles passes through some of the most magnificent and lonely country to be found anywhere. Along the way, we stopped at the only "town" (2 trading posts, 1 bar, 1 cafe) which was supposed to be named ptarmigan. However, none of the local miners were sure of the spelling, and not wanting to be embarrassed with a misspelled town name, decided to call it Chicken. The lady that runs the trading post-bar-cafe told us that she was not sure whether to be angry or concerned about her husband. He was several days overdue from a trip. Normally, she would worry, but king salmon season had just started and she was pretty sure he was fishing rather than helping her run the bar.

I've had my evening pick-me-up (finalizing this letter) and its time to make a blood donation to the local wildlife as I mow the yard. More about kings later as its time to end this epistle from Paul