06. Winter Arrives

January 5, 1994

Winter arrives

It's hard to believe, but winter officially started today (Dec. 22, 11:26am). However, I would like to point out that Alaska has definitely been experiencing winter-like weather for at least 3 months. But that's not the important point, today is cause for celebration up here! The sun has reached its lowest point and the days will no longer get shorter. In fact, tomorrow we gain 11 seconds of light. Today the sun rose at 10:59am and will set at 2:41pm for 3 hours and 42 minutes of potential sunshine. Eleven seconds may not seem important, to those “outside”, but it is the first step toward the summer solstice (June 21) when we will see 21 hours and 49 minutes of sunlight and 24 hours of non-dark.

Up here you become familiar with a term called "civil twilight" which starts and ends when the sun is 6 degrees below the horizon. That means that there is, "almost enough light to read a newspaper without a flashlight". This occurs today at 9:33am and ends at 4:07pm giving us a potential 6 hours and 34 minutes of non-dark. People adapt, you should see the Christmas lights. Nearly every home has some lights and they stay on 24 hours a day.

Alaska is unable to do anything in moderation. It is a land of extremes going from nearly no light in December to 24 hours of no dark in June, from 60 degrees below zero in winter to over 90 degrees above in summer, from the City of Fairbanks where all city conveniences are available to the City of Eagle where running water at home is nonexistent. I am reminded of this each day as I head out to work (watching for dog sleds) under the aurora borealis, see moose along the roadside, and ride a city bus. Sounds crazy doesn't it.

It is obvious from the above paragraph that I write these notes over a period of time as things occur here in Alaska. In past letters, I have indicated that running a park in Alaska is not quite the same as in the other states. Certainly, I have been baffled that Lincoln Boyhood NM and Yukon-Charley Rivers NP carried the same pay grade. Well, the Park Service was apparently as confused as me and decided to correct the situation. So as of January 9, 1994, Yukon-Charley Rivers becomes a GS-13 and I receive a promotion. Alaska winters are not all that gloomy after all!

Life in Alaska seems to always be involving animals. This past fall Diana and I lost our Rottweiler and, just before Christmas, we acquired a replacement. Raven is 6 months old and is already showing many of the Rottweiler traits. He weighs about 30 pounds and thinks he is big enough to bull his way through anything. It was a minor inconvenience until, "The Christmas Tree Incident!" However, he is obedient and comes when called....along the straightest route. His master called, from the deck, Raven obeyed, trailed by the Christmas Tree and a very irritated wife. The wise husband noted that the drive really needed to be blown clear of snow. We now have a "Charley Brown" tree.

The next episode occurred the other night. Diana was taking Raven out into the front yard (with me following). All of a sudden, Raven started growling, barking and lunging at the end of his leash. Diana was trying to haul the dog in. I was trying to see what the hell was going on....until Raven agreed that a bull moose might be more than he wanted to take on. The two of them ran over me getting back inside, which caused me to want back inside too. A 30 pound dog thinking he could take on a ton of moose, now there you have another Alaskan extreme. It was an exciting few minutes.

All dogs in Alaska are not 30 pounds, but all seem to be willing to take on the world. Walking home the other night, I was thoroughly enjoying the peace and quiet. The only drawback was that it was very cold (-15 degrees). The snow on the ground was reflecting enough light to follow the road (5pm), the stars were out, it was quiet and all was right with the world.

Suddenly, the peace was broken by a heart stopping snarl coming from the woods to my right. I whirled around to see 8 dogs (definitely more than 30 pounds each) coming at me on the attack. I dropped my bag and got ready to perform the ridiculous action of defending myself.

It finally dawned on me (after my heart started supplying my brain with blood again), that the snarls were not for me but for each other. These dogs are only half (or less) tame and fight, if not kept busy and separated. The traces were tangled and each one was insisting it was not his fault.

Meantime, the "dog driver" (a lady?) was explaining in unlady-like terms that she wanted me out of the way and the dogs to quit fighting and start pulling. It was very clear that she considered both the dog's and my lineage was somewhat interrelated. I watched, in awe, as she grabbed the fighting dogs, through them into position, made one last comment to me (definitely not, "Happy Christmas to All and to All a Good Night) and pulled off into the night. One observation I did retain from the incident is that as the dogs run and the sled follows there is almost no sound and that they go very fast. The rest of my trip home was also made in speed and warmth, it is amazing what adrenalin can do.

Alaskans are fond of stories about, airplane flights, cold, and bears. One recent arrival said that the hardest thing he had to learn is to be patient. I asked him what he meant, and he said, you never want to get anxious and tell your story first. Because, the first poor SOB doesn't have a chance against the stories that follow. I have followed his advice and saved my best animal story for last.

The other day, I read a story in our newspaper about a polar bear on the North Slope. Now, my Frien's, you have to understand that polar bears, in spite of years of association with the Eskimo, are yet to be convinced that just because it moves, it is not automatically groceries. Two oil field workers were relaxing, at a remote site, when one looked over to a window and observed a polar bear observing him. Without apparently too much thought, this old boy decided to train the animal, and swatted at the bear's nose with a rolled up newspaper. Maybe it was because the window pane prevented him from actually making contact; but, he quickly learned puppy training techniques do not work on a hungry bear. And the fact that the window it is looking through is 7 feet off the ground.

The bear decided to train the man, or something to that effect. It jumped through the window and started mauling the trainer. I have mentioned the penchant for unlocked doors in the bush. Well, I realized that locked doors are good or bad depending on your viewpoint. Two of the trainer's friends, who were also in the room, decided that they were not interested in animal training. In fact, they had urgent business anywhere else. They ran to the door, which leads to the rest of the complex, and found it locked! But, the guy under the bear probably feels that locked doors are good because now his "friends" decided that they really should assist him in his efforts with the bear. One grabbed a 12 gauge and after 5 well-placed slugs, actually after they emptied the gun, the bear was dead. I want you to know that I've broadened my viewpoint and have decided that whether or not doors should be locked depends on your perspective. Since I have no desire to be an animal trainer, I tend to hold that locked doors, especially at motels, are more positive than negative.

Diana and I are looking forward to chasing the sun south as we head "outside" on vacation. We will spend 4 weeks with friends and relatives in Arkansas and Louisiana (for a Guraedy family reunion). Our return to "the country" is on the starting day of the Yukon Quest (a 1,000 mile dog sled race that goes for 130 river miles through the Preserve). The race starts in Fairbanks and it will take them a couple of days to reach Slaven's Roadhouse (an uninsulated cabin) where Park Rangers maintain a checkpoint. I plan to join the staff there for the four days it takes the teams to pass. We will be camping in -40 degrees, 100 river miles (10 hours by snow machine) from the nearest neighbor, melting snow for water, with 50 teams of well-trained but half-tamed dogs. Sounds terrible?, HELL NO!, this is what a career in the Park Service is all about and I waited nearly 3 decades to experience.

The sun is coming back, a new puppy, a promotion, a visit with friends and relatives, Alaska and the Yukon Quest. What a way to start off 1994. As they say in the beer commercial, "it don't get no better than this!". So ends this epistle from Paul.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY from,

Paul and Diana