PICTURES TO ACCOMPANY THE RHETORIC

CARIBOU IN THE BUSH

MOUNT MCKINLEY IN ALL ITS GLORY

SALMON GLACIER AT HYDER

THE ROAD TO THE 2ND GLACIER --

NO IT ISN'T A WHORING MARMEC -- IT IS A HOARY MARMET -- WHAT DO I KNOW?

SALMONS LAST DAYS

FISHING FOR DINNER

AT THE JADE MINE

A VIEW OF PRINCE RUPERT

LIFE AT THE CANNERY

SATURDAY AUGUST 20. SORRY THAT I WAS UNABLE TO POST THIS LAST WEEK. I RAN INTO PROBLEMS WITH E MAIL ACCESS.

WEEK ENDING AUGUST 14, 2004

Saturday, Aug 7, we stopped over night at the Junction of the Alaskan Highway and Highway 37. To Ken’s inquiry regarding Highway 37 (our proposed route to Stewart/Hyder), he was advised that there were 40 miles of gravel or dirt road. We understood that it was a secondary road, but Ken assured me that the view was worth it. “Iffy” roads notwithstanding, we pressed on as if we had good sense. There was a Jade Mine along the way which, of course, we visited for a walk through the gift shop as well as Ken wanted to check out the authenticity of the mining operation. It passed. My confidence improved as to the safety of the road when we recognized that the caravan of 37 vehicles that had overnighted with us at the RV Park were also traveling our road South.

We arrived at a campground maintained by the local Lions Club in the Dease Lake area around 3PM. There were 16 spots and only two sites occupied. We decided to spend the night there and parked next to a lively creek where we could look out at the water rushing by. The soothing sound of the water made good background music for a restful night.

Monday morning Ken was up at 5AM. He has been “harping” on our not seeing wild animals thus, an early departure in the hope that we will catch some early feeding animals. My enthusiasm was not at a “high level”. Nevertheless, it is hard to sleep in when there is someone banging around preparing to move ones house down the road. We were on the road by 6, bad “attitude” and all. Traffic was very light, with only an occasional vehicle interrupted our scenic bliss. An early morning mist hung over the valleys and lakes as we made our way along the curving steep canyon roads. Just as I was about to remark that it didn’t appear an early start made any difference in “animal sightings” we went around a 30 degree corner and there just venturing onto the highway was a big black bear. Of course, I fumbled with the camera and before I could even get it on, the bear had escaped back into the bush. About 50 miles further down the road, a bear cub crossed the road in front of us just as we came within sight of it. Again, no picture. It was too fast. However, Ken was ecstatic. He had been vindicated. Although it was 10 AM, we were in the right place at the right time, a justification for “his nibbs”.

Although we suffered through several stretches of bad roads on Sunday, Monday was a nightmare in bad roads. Extensive road construction was underway. The washboard gravel road and many deep ruts combined to make navigation “testy”. However once through the construction area, we were greeted by a brand new road, taking the edge off our displeasure with the previous three hours of ruts, dirt and gravel . When the road work on Highway 37 is finished from Highway 16 to the Alaskan Highway, it will be a highly desirable route. It is an incredibly beautiful drive. There are lots of fish camps, lakes and rivers along the way, a true wilderness paradise for the outdoors person or one who enjoys the beauty of nature. We turned off Highway 37 onto 37A for the 50 mile side trip into Stewart and its neighboring Alaskan town of Hyder, located on the Portland Canal, 70 miles from the inside passage of the Gulf of Alaska. As we entered the canyon floor, we passed Bear Glacier, just off the highway on the outskirts of Stewart. Small icebergs floated in the glacier fed lake along the road, providing yet another incredible view of the glacier beauty that we have seen on this trip.

We were successful in getting accommodations in the RV campground located downtown Stewart. As we hooked up our coach to the utilities, the caravan crowd from Saturday’s overnight began arriving. Once connected, we were out for a drive to the bear viewing platform and boardwalk in Hyder Alaska. The platform has been built to protect the people from the bears and vice versa as the bears feed on the salmon at this large spawning area. As we walked the distance of the boardwalk, we could see the salmon dying and carcases of those already dead. It was very sad and for me, very unpleasant both in smell and sight. I have been well indoctrinated in the spanning habits of the salmon. I understand that this process is the culmination of the salmons earthly endeavor and that they have been pre-programmed to achieve this last act but still, it is a depressing sight. It was 300P and no bears were out at that time of the day. Nevertheless, people stood on the platform with cameras ready in the event that one might be prone to “an afternoon snack”. The Ranger told us the best viewing time was 6-10AM and 6-10PM.

Enlightened, we drove on to visit the Salmon Glacier, 20 miles beyond and six miles beyond that a second Glacier. The road up to Salmon Glacier was as bad as that which we had traveled earlier in the day, except this time we did not have to endure the rough and tumble road in a RV. We passed several mines en route to the Glacier, all of which were of interest to Ken. Once at the Salmon Glacier, Ken pushed on to the second Glacier in spite of my objections and a notice that the road beyond was not a maintained road. If the previous road was maintained, I could not imagine what one that was not maintained could be like. Of course, that did not stop Ken. We made our way carefully over the road, following others who were just as misguided in their search for adventure. The road was a remnant from mining operations of yesteryear and on the hillsides, buildings and old machinery lay in various phases of deterioration. As we approached the second glacier we were shocked to see a RV camped on a nearby overlook with a phenomenal view of the glacier and the glacier floor below. Ken thought perhaps the owner of the vehicle couldn’t get his nerve up for a return trip. It would not be a trip that I would choose to make in a RV (or even in a car again).

We turned around and made our way back up the hill and were surprised as a long furry animal crossed the road in front of us and made its way up the mountainside. Ken stopped the car, grabbed the camera and the animal stopped and stood while Ken snapped pictures of it before it ran up the hill. We did not recognize the animal but when we returned to the fish viewing area, a ranger identified it as a “whoring marmac”, a furry rodent type animal. We were delighted that our picture of the animal came out as that was the last pictures from that camera. When we tried to access the picture to show the ranger, the camera gave us a “disk error” and we have been unable to use it since. Fortunately, the pictures that were had already saved to disk were okay and we were able to transfer them to the computer.

Ken was up early Tuesday morning in hopes of getting a picture of a bear from the bear viewing platform but alas, it was not to be. Tuesday evening, he went again for another try and watched as a grisly made its way up the river, picked up a dead salmon carried it to the creek bank smelled it and returned to the river. The bear caught a fresh salmon by laying on it, picked it up, took a bite and dropped it and the fish swam off. We were told that the bear picks up the salmon, shakes it to confirm that it is a female and then takes a bite out of it for the eggs. Apparently, it is the salmon eggs that the bear wants and not the salmon itself, according to this source.

Stewart and Hyder are both small “towns” on a 75 mile fjord. Stewart is relatively up to date though certainly not a modern city. We stayed in Stewart. Our campsite was next to a creek providing us a lovely woodlands setting amid advisory signs warning of bears. We had both a lunch and dinner at two different restaurants and the food was very good. As we traveled through the many areas that are dependent on the very short tourist season for their economic livelihood, we were inclined to patronize these businesses out of a sense of appreciation for their “pioneering” courage.

Hyder is a ghost town from the gold mining era and it has had its “heyday”. It’s residents appear to be “leftovers” from the 60's with limited ambition or enterprise. Hyder has a reputation for its night life, or being Hyderized. We did not engage in this “night sport” but we understood that it is a drink that is highly potent and one is enough to achieve “Hyderized status”. Hyder, like the dying salmon was depressing and one trip through the town was enough. The glaciers, bear watching and beautiful canyon setting were spectacular but, as a destination, not a high priority.

Wednesday, we left our site behind the caravan and as we made our way up the highway encountered a baby moose just off the road that I thought was surely going to sprint out in front of us. Fortunately, it chose to go the other way and we picked up speed. A few miles up the hill, a grisly and her cub sauntered up the hillside as two bikers watched their progress and waved at us with a gleeful smile. Our day was a success, it was a moose and two bear day. Whatever amenities may have been missing from our visit to Stewart and Hyder, we received a dividend in animal sightings and enjoyed the natural beauty of the area.

The trip to Prince Rupert was pleasant and without incident. Prince Rupert is a beautiful seaport town. We were amused at what, to us, seemed a “laid back” casual attitude by the business people. No one seemeds to worry about the elements of commerce and a “manna” attitude seemed to prevail. Business hours announced a 10AM opening, and doors remained closed at 1015. A return trip at 1130, found the doors open and the help helpful, friendly and relaxed.

Friday, at the suggestion of an “old codger” that Ken met, we embarked upon a back country trip up the mountain from whence it was promised that we would be able to view the islands and be treated to an outstanding overview of Prince Rupert and the surrounding area of islands. Ken is a sucker for any adventure or exploration that might take him to new sights. This sounded like a must do. The mountain road was barely passable and never ending with each curve in the road holding promise of a top of the hill spectacular only to proceed yet further up the mountain. We could glimpse the beautiful sight below through the trees, but, my patience with narrow roads, rocks, chuck holes and dirt run its limit. I was concerned about the abuse we were doing to our car as well as my adventurous spirit had run its course. Ken under duress turned the car around and we made our way down the hill with silence speaking louder than words.

After our disaster on the mountain, we stopped by the North Pacific Cannery Museum where we were given a guided tour through the old cannery which was opened in 1889 and closed in the early 60's. The North Pacific Cannery is one of many canneries once located in this area. It has been retained as a museum and contains the cannery operation (complete with machinery), homes that were provided for the families, quarters for the single workers, general store and cookhouse where meals were provided. The many canneries that once operated from Sacramento to Canada are now few but, like the mines of that era, museums and authentic historical sites like this provide a rare insight into the colorful and glorious history of the pioneer spirit and enterprise of our forebearers. As a final treat, we were entertained by a folklore presentation and Indian dance depicting the importance of the salmon to the native ancestral culture and lifestyle. It was an interesting and enlightening afternoon.

Saturday, the 14th, we will take the ferry to Ketchikan and spend two nights there, catching the ferry back to Prince Rupert Tuesday morning. Once again, we are at a locale where I cannot take the time to post pictures but when we again get to a good I-net facility, I will post pictures.

Until next week when we will be back in the US, have a good week and stay well. Congratulations to our beautiful granddaughter who has embarked upon her college career at SMU. We are exceedingly proud of her and wish her much success and happiness as she pursues her career development.

Until next time...................

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Saturday, July 30, we visited the El Dorado Gold Mine, a once flourishing mine from which millions in gold was extracted. Today, the operation is still a gold mine as a tourist attraction. The El Dorado is run by the Binkley family, a third generation Fairbanks family who also operates the Discovery River Boat attraction that I bored you with in my last discourse from Fairbanks. The Binkley family enterprise and resourcefulness reminded me of the Walter Knott family of Knotts Berry Farm fame. The Binkley children have followed their parents and grand parents in the business and three generations are active in the business. Mrs. Binkley, the matriarch of the family, is in her 80's and still involved in the business. (On our river trip she waved to the boat from the yard of her home as we made our way down the river.) Mr. Binkley died last year. I was impressed with the value conscious efforts of the family in providing what seemed to me a fair “bang for the buck” in both the river boat and the mining adventure. Both operations seemed to reflect a personalized pride of ownership, family unity and dedication to the business not only as the source of their livelihood but as a genuine reflection of their Alaskan roots and good citizenship.

We were loaded onto a bus for the approximate twenty minute ride to the mine. Once there, we were taken by train through a mine shaft to familiarize us with the interior of a mine, how it is reinforced and the role of the permafrost in the mining operations. At the El Dorado, there are two phases, hard rock mining of the ore and the placer operation. The mined ore is taken to a staging area where it is crushed (smaller mines who do not maintain crushing facilities take their ore to a smelter where it is crushed and processed). Once the ore has been retrieved and crushed, the process of removing the gold from the bulk ore is achieved through the placer process, concludes with the panning of the gold . In the presentation, once the ore “sifting” and placer process has been concluded, the final step of panning the gold or retrieval of the actual flakes of gold or on a very lucky day in the life of a gold panner, a gold nugget is retrieved.

After the staff had concluded their presentation, showed us how to pan for gold and developed “color” in their pan, we were taken inside to tables for panning the small bag of ore that each of us was given as we entered the building. Everyone was guaranteed to get some gold and, as far as we know everyone did, with the average being somewhere between $10-$15. Ken and I did our panning and in the process, together retrieved a few grams of gold, valued at approximately $22.00. I confiscated Ken’s gold and he had our combined “pan” made into a pair of earrings which were assembled in front of us to assure us that the earrings were from our very own panned gold. I will wear them in remembrance of our day at the mine.

On Sunday, we drove approximately 50 miles out of Fairbanks to Chena Hot Springs. One of the recent fires in the Fairbanks area came perilously close to the hot springs, but luckily it was spared, thanks to a little rain and the great fire fighting efforts of the fire crews who worked long and hard to control the fires in Alaska. A fire in 2001 also came very close to the hot springs which is a garden of Eden in the middle of nowhere surrounded by beautiful forests filled with wild animals. As we walked around the park, fresh animal tracks could be seen in the dirt, providing credibility to the many “beware of bear” signs. We did not go prepared to enjoy the hot springs but we should have. People were enjoying the hot pools. The remote location is large with a hotel, cabins, RV sites, restaurant and acres of beautiful foliage. The facility has its own hot houses and gardens which supplies garden fresh vegetables to the restaurant. A Sunday barbecue was in progress which turned out to be one of the best “food” bargains of our trip as well as tasty. A choice of barbecued beef ribs, chicken, hamburgers with potato salad, macaroni salad, cold slaw, chips and a drink (more than we could eat) for $8.95 each. Inexpensive for Alaska..

After our visit to the hot springs, we drove into an area where good panning creeks were said to be located. Ken stopped at a creek along the road and joined some fellow “panners” in trying their skill at finding a few ounces of gold (gram, specks?). One panner was from Redding, California. He and Ken shared prospecting stories as they tried their luck in the creek. Both were able to claim a few signs of color in the pan, but no significant find.

Monday, was devoted to clean up in preparation for starting our trip South and return home. Our planned Monday departure was delayed for Ken to see a chiropractor in hopes of getting his back tuned up for the trip home.

Tuesday, after Ken’s trip to the “chirp”, we reluctantly departed Fairbanks and started the long road home. A stop off at the North Pole, another tourist spot, just outside of Fairbanks completed what we both felt was an enjoyable stay in Fairbanks. We both agreed that Fairbanks had a good tourist attitude with friendly people. For us, it reflected what we identified as Alaska’s pioneer spirit and what we thought Alaska would be. The traditions of the past and the native culture seemed to have been proudly preserved and respected.

We had intended to do a short drive on Tuesday after Ken’s visit to the Dr., but it was a beautiful clear day, Mount Denali and its mountain range were alive in a rare spectacular distant view which prompted us to keep going and enjoy a clear day in which it seemed you could “see forever”. Thus rewarded, we drove into Tok, the “jumping off” place for the return trip through Yukon Territory.

The next morning, Wednesday, we fueled and prepared for our departure over the Top of the World highway to Chicken and Dawson City en route to White Horse. Ken had planned do the Top of the World Highway to Dawson City on our way into Alaska. However, that area was ravaged by wild fires that created road closures and hazardous driving conditions. Thus, we had set this destination for our return trip. Our inquiry at the visitor center Tuesday night seemed to solidify our proposed itinerary but Wednesday morning the smoke seemed much worse. En route to our turnoff, Ken expressed reservations because of the smoke and wondered aloud whether we would be able to see the beautiful view in the smoke. When we reached our turn off point, Ken decided there was just too much smoke to warrant our endurance of what we knew would be mostly gravel and dirt roads. It was a difficult decision for him (and one that I stayed out of) because the Dawson City stop had always been a “big item” on his itinerary. We both felt that the decision to stay on the Alaska Highway was okay because we had not really been able to enjoy the view from White Horse to Tok on our trip into Alaska because of the smoke.

We remembered that the Alaska highway between White Horse and Tok had a lot of maintenance and repair work that would require breaks in the pavement and considerable travel on dirt and gravel roads. However, On the way down, we stopped at a RV Resort on Klhune Lake which we thought must surely be beautiful but we were unable to see more than 25 feet in front of us. What we didn’t recognize was that the break in travel gave us a chance to relax and revamp. This time, we did the drive all in one day and by the time we reached White Horse, our patience with dirt and gravel roads had been maximized. We knew that the Top of the World Highway was 60% gravel but we had forgotten just how much of the Alaskan Highway was under construction. A new road is being built between White Horse and the Alaska State line and construction goes on for miles and miles. It will be nice when it is finished, but I do not recommend that stretch of road until the new road has been completed. In retrospect, we thought that the Dawson City route was probably not any worse, but our choice had been motivated by smoke and not the road. However, in talking to those who did the Dawson City route, their experience was as traumatic as ours so it sounds like “a wash”.

To make matters worse, there are frequent gravel breaks in the pavement that appear suddenly and create a hazard from flying rock. One Alberta driver passed us just as we were entering a gravel break, creating a “rock storm” that pitted our windshield. He was clearly driving recklessly and speeding in a maintenance area. Ken is very even tempered and rarely gets upset with the stupidity of others but when it comes to his “precious coach” his patience is impaired. He tried to catch the man but alas, he was soon out of sight. Fifty miles down the road at the Canadian border, he, and approximately 30 other “escaping” Alaska RV tourists waited for clearance to enter Canada. Ken and another man who had undergone a similar incident with the same man went up to the “offending driver” and asked for his name, address and license number. The driver apologized and had the good sense to not make any excuse or employ an “attitude”. I was reluctant to have Ken pursue the matter because in Los Angeles, it would invite a “shooting” but our presence at a border crossing tended to provide everyone a “level head’.

We arrived in White Horse at 730 PM, tempers short, patience exhausted with both car and coach covered with dirt and rocks. We parked at Wal Mart, had a sandwich and let our tired bodies relax. After our dusty, dirty and challenging drive from Tok, we decided to spend an extra day in White Horse for clean up and rejuvenation.

Thursday, Ken washed the car and the coach, while I caught up on my e mail. In the afternoon we drove up to the fish ladder where we watched as Chinook salmon were helped over the ladder of the falls into the hydroelectric company dam for their return to their spawning grounds in the Yukon river and its tributaries. There is a nearby hatchery that releases the baby salmon into the surrounding streams and rivers in an effort to maintain the balance of nature. The young salmon then travel hundreds of miles down stream, sometimes as far as the Arctic ocean before returning to the site of their spawning to lay their eggs and meet their maker. Once the salmon reach fresh water, they do not eat and when the eggs are laid in a nest by the female, the male fertilizes them and the female covers the nest and the two die. The spawning salmon are between 3 and 6 years of age. On average 600-700 salmon return to their spawning grounds each season. When we visited the fish hatchery and ladder on our way to Alaska, the salmon were not yet running. Our revisit rounded out our education on the spawning habits of the Chinook salmon.

After dinner in a decent “pasta” restaurant, we prepared for the next dayt’s exodus and a return stop over at” Muckluck Annies”.

Saturday we stopped overnight at the Junction of Highway 37 and 2 and Sunday we will proceed to Dease Lake en route to Prince Rupert. Highway 37 has about 40 miles of gravel road but travel via this road to Prince Rupert reduces travel miles significantly. Ken wants to stop in Stewart for some salmon fishing. The road is not a primary highway but is said to be a beautiful drive with several “spurs” of interest en route.

We are on our way South but there are still items on our (Kens) itinerary that require attention. Until our next report, have a good week.

ARTIC EXPLORERS?
After our wonderful tour of Denali, where the mountain greeted us in all of its glory, Monday was a cold and dreary day, reinforcing our awareness of how fortunate we were to have been blessed with a beautiful tour day.

Tuesday, the 27th, we traveled to Fairbanks. We checked into a lovely RV Park on the rivers edge for our “nesting” space for the week. The temperature was warm when we arrived, which was pleasant after Monday’s dreary day in Denali. We did our usual drive around Tuesday afternoon, visited the Visitors Center, checked out the city and Ken prepared his itinerary for our Fairbanks stay.

Wednesday we enjoyed a river boat trip on a diesel electric sternwheeler with bow thrusters. (A reminder of the past, with modern day technology.) The trip featured a history of the two rivers, the Chena and the glacial-fed Tanana River which, until construction of the Alaskan Railroad, were the primary mode of travel, shipping and commerce into the interior. We were treated to a take off and landing of the modern day Alaskan mode of transportation, a small piper cub which became airborne in the owners backyard (less than 100 foot) and landed in the same short distance. As we cruised the river, small planes sitting in the back yards of the beautiful homes along the river, highlighted the importance of the small plane to the Alaskan lifestyle.

Our boat paused at an Iditarod training facility operated by champion dog team trainer, Susan Butcher and her husband, Bruce, a former chamption of the Iditarod race. The dogs were put through their paces as Bruce gave us a brief review of considerations involved in the breeding, training and diet of the dogs as they are prepared for competition. Some of the traits considered important in choosing a dog for competition is overall intelligence , adaptation to structure and compatibility with other dogs as well as people. Older dogs are used to train the young dogs and training starts from the day the puppies are born by subjecting them to love and attention that will reinforce their trust in man. A final stop at a recreated Athabascan Indian Village portraying Athabascan and Eskimo history rounded out our river adventure. Young native Alaskans gave us a background resume of where they were from, brief family history, college or university in which they are enrolled (all were college students), modeled clothing, explained traditions, lifestyle and culture. They demonstrated skills and/or talents that have permitted their ancestors to survive the harsh Arctic climate for thousands of years.

As we have traveled Northward, we have had a greater opportunity to learn native Alaskan history and tradition. In the Southern part of the State, the emphasis was on the bounty and harvest of the sea in the form of commercial and sports fishing. The role of the native Alaskan is acknowledged but not highlighted. In the Southern part, greater emphasis is placed on the role of the “conquerors”, the Russian fur traders, trappers, hunters, sea explorers and the commercial pursuits related to the conquest of Alaska. Further into the interior, the native Alaskans reliance on natural resources as a means of sustaining their lifestyle is more clearly acknowledged, emphasized and reflected upon.

Thursday, we were up at the break of dawn (4ish) in preparation for our transport to the airport at 630 and 8am flight to Barrow on the Arctic ocean. The natives in Barrow are Inupiaq and the native spellings for Barrow are Ukpiagvik and Utqiagvik, meaning “place to hunt snowy owls”. We enjoyed a smooth flight in spite of overcast and fog but when we stepped off the plane, a stiff wind combined with 40 degree temperature reminded us that we had reached our destination and natures air conditioning was working. We knew that summer temperatures vary greatly and we were prepared. However, for those who may have misjudged “cool”, parkas were supplied by our tour service and on board the bus. The first question posed to our tour guide, Joe, a native Inupiaq, was, “how cold is it?” His tongue in cheek response, “Oh it is just another warm summer day in the 40's”. (Average summer temperature.)

Our first stop of the day was at a small visitor center and a monument memorial to Wiley Post and Will Rogers who were killed in a plane crash en route to the Arctic in 1935. Brochures on Barrow and a map of the town were provided and a few souvenirs were available for purchase. Many of us had our pictures taken in front of the sign post with the distance to various cities, among them Los Angeles at 2,943 miles.

Our second stop was at an “ice pit”, an eight by eight by eight storage room built into the permafrost for storing meat. In the summer months, the permafrost remains frozen two to three foot below the surface, depending on the temperature and provides an outdoor freezer in the custom of ancient times. Only ducks hung in the ice pit that we visited. Some of our group climbed down into the pit to experience the efficiency of the permafrost. Our guide told us each Captain of a Whaling canoe must have an ice pit in which to store the whale meat that is caught. The Bowhead Whale is the center of the Inupiaq culture and a primary source of food. There are 48 licensed whale boat captains and the size of the crew will depend on the size of the captains family. Each season (and there are two seasons) only 12 bonehead whales may be killed or 22 for the year. Whaling is still done by harpoon and float in the tradition of the Inupiaq ancestors. Not every Captain and crew get a whale in a season or year but each family in the village gets a portion of every whale caught with the bulk of the meat going to the successful whale boat crew and Captain. Joe told us that he has been a whaling crew member since he was seven years old.

As we drove through the village, we saw what appeared to be prefabricated houses along with smaller houses of what, to us, appeared more “traditional” construction. Satellite dishes, tilted almost parallel to the ground in order to receive reception so far North, provide cable TV as well as make two way audio and visual conferencing possible. Bare dirt confirmed the non existence of landscaping . There are no trees and no fruits or vegetables can be grown. We saw only Arctic tundra and a few plants of “arctic cotton”. There were some tiny wild flowers but native floral other than tundra was scant. Visually, the lifestyle seemed to reflect what I would term as a combination of poverty and/or a lifestyle lacking in “pride of ownership”. As the day progressed however, I recognized that my preconceived ideas of lifestyle values were both inappropriate and inapplicable. My conscience reminded me that this culture has survived thousands of years and it behooved me to refrain from interjecting my personal expectations into a rare opportunity to understand and be educated in this very special culture. Thus, mentally enlightened, I went with the flow.

Our next stop was at the High School, built in the early 80's at a cost of 70 million dollars. Joe explained that it was very expensive because every construction item had to be shipped in by barge. The Chukchi Sea which flows into the Arctic Ocean freezes over in October and remains frozen until June. We were surprised to learn that ice was less than 30 miles off shore. I understood the time frame in which a barge can come into Barrow to be three to four weeks between August 15 - September 15. Ken thought there were two periods, one in the fall and one in the spring. I think I am right.

The High School sports team is the Barrow Whalers and they, as well as all of Alaskan youth, excel in basketball. The long dark winters provides time to develop proficiency in indoor sports and thus, basketball is the sport of choice. The Whalers basketball team won second place in the State in 2004 and hope to do better in 2005 because they lost only three of their team to graduation. Students from Barrow compete in sports throughout the State. Chartered Alaska Airlines jets provide transportation in lieu of the traditional bus transport in the lower 48. The town of Barrow has a population of 4,500 and, if my memory serves me correctly, 350 High School students, 600 middle school and 350 elementary. About 45 percent of the graduates go on to college and their education is funded by “the corporation” (Arctic Slope Regional Corporation). Students may go to any college to which their grades will gain them admission but they must maintain a minimum grade average that will justify the cost of tuition i.e., if Harvard, Yale or one of the “elite”, as much as $40,000 per year. We were told that virtually 100% of the students who go away to college return to Barrow.

From the educational realm, we drove the short distance to the ocean and the Imaiqsaun Cemetery where remains of ancestors excavated at the many archeological sites around Barrow have been buried. This is the final resting place of the famous “Frozen Family” excavated from Mound 44 (more than 100 such mounds exist in Barrow) in the early 1980's. It is believed that a severe ice storm may have caused a large piece of ice to slam against the mound, thus closing off the house . Also a prehistoric girl excavated from an eroding bluff above the sea rests here. .

As we proceeded through the town we learned that the utilities are buried in pipe s under ground and heated to keep them from freezing. Homes are heated by gas and the village has enough gas to supply them for 150 years. We drove past the Fresh Water Lake, one of the original sources of water for the village, past the police department and jail, painted a bright blue, hence its nickname, “the blue hotel”. We learned that there is crime and that domestic violence ( often as a result of liquor) is the leading offense. Liquor is heavily regulated, available only by special order and the amount that can be obtained is carefully monitored. Ken takes issue with what he says is a presumption on my part that liquor is a problem. He doesn’t think it is. I thought it could be. So went our morning.


It was lunch time and our restaurant was “Pepe’s North of the Border”. The proprietor of the restaurant is also “Mama Bear” of the Polar Bear Club. For those brave souls among us who wished to be initiated into the Polar Bear Club, Mama Bear would be both overseer of the paperwork and Director of Compliance i.e., complete immersion down to the last hair on the top of your head. Ken was disappointed that I did not bring his swimming trunks and thus, he was prevented from experiencing a “dip in the Arctic”. I reminded him that “au naturel” was okay according to the guide but that didn’t go over very well either. Two brave souls of our group planned to take the plunge. We all promised to “cheer them on”, gleeful that we were about to be provided a rare “photo op”.

After lunch we checked into our Top of the World Hotel and left off our personal belongings. At first glance the hotel was disappointing inasmuch as it seemed more like a large square warehouse devoid of luxury furnishings, though there was a television and computer connected to the web in the lobby. A well worn sofa offered proof that we were not staying at the Ritz Carlton of Barrow. Further, it appeared that housekeeping was not a big budget item at this facility. Ken took our bags to the room inasmuch as it was not yet ready for occupancy and returned, without comment. Inasmuch as I did not want to sleep in a pit house in the permafrost or spend a night in “the blue hotel”, I kept my inner most thoughts to myself.

Our afternoon began with a tour of the Value Mart, Barrow’s version of Wal Mart and the towns only shopping source. Ken walked through and comparison shopped, returning to say that, surprisingly, the prices were not much more than what we had seen in Fairbanks. We were then deposited at the Cultural Center and Museum where we were free to examine and purchase artifacts or other hand made creations of the various villages represented. We were then treated to an afternoon of folk dancing, music, singing and Inupiaq history capped off by a demonstration of games played by the natives during the long winter evenings. Our tour guide, Joe, was a participant in the dances and music. He is a member of a local dance group that travels and performs extensively throughout the lower 48 and the world. His group participated in the two Bill Clinton inaugural parades and are scheduled for a performance in Japan within the next few months.

After our Cultural Center experience, we returned to the bus and started for the “end of the road”. Suddenly, the bus lurched to a stop and to everyone’s amusement, we were out of gas. A quick cell phone call to the office brought gas to restart the engine and get us back to the only gas station a short distance away. Fueled and running, we resumed our trip to the end of the road (approximately 2-3 miles) where we were treated to a view of the forest at the top of the world, two tiny palm trees. The trunk of the trees was made from whale bones and the palm fronds, from baleen (the teeth of a whale). As we approached our destination, small buildings dotted the area. To my question, Ken said they were summer homes. As it turned out, he was correct. They were “hunting cabins” where the natives go to shoot ducks and birds for their food supply. While pictures were being taken, a flock of ducks flew overhead prompting everyone to return to the bus, with a sense of urgency for fear that the waiting hunters might shoot at the wrong ducks. However, no shots were fired and our trust in the natives was enhanced.

As we drove back down the road, someone spotted a whale off the beach. Our driver stopped the bus for a “photo op” moment as the whale loitered along the beach, feeding --oblivious to the clicking cameras and excited “ohs and ahs” of our group. A nice addendum to an interesting day.

As departure time approached for those returning to Fairbanks or Anchorage, as the case may be, our attention turned to the “Polar Bear” initiation exercise. We waited on the beach in the 40 degree temperature, for our candidates, Carol and Dan Turk of Colorado Springs, Colorado, to prepare for their “big dip”. Carol took the “plunge” first followed by Dan who treated us to a few strokes of his swimming technique in spite of the freezing cold water. A brave boy, in deed. To roaring applause and approval, the couple returned to the hotel, dressed and rejoined the bus group for the trip to the airport. Those of us who were staying over night waved goodbye to our fellow adventurers for the day and retired to our rooms, to watch the Kerry the speech on television or take a nap as the case may be.

When we went to our room I was happily surprised to find a spotlessly clean room with a 27inch television, telephone and a bathroom with basic amenities i.e., shampoo, lotion and hair dryer. To complete our comfort, the bed proved to be “sleep friendly”. Later, Ken and I discussed my initial concerns about the housekeeping habits in the front lobby and Ken made a logical observation. The lobby gets a lot of foot traffic from the outside and there are no sidewalks, only dirt. The dirt is tracked in and melds into the decorative scheme which presents an unkempt look. I accepted his premise as good logic and “clean dirt” adds a certain decorating motif don’t you think? However, I still wanted to replace the worn out couches with their sagging cushions and escaping cotton stuffing with something a little more “sightly”. Ken reminded me “when in Rome” and I took that as my cue to not try to remake the world in my image but, instead, enjoy that “what is”. Accordingly, our day in the Arctic was a wonderful experience and the memory never to be forgotten after proper “attitude adjustment”.

OUR RIVER BOAT EXPERIENCE