Skiing at UAF

 Many people spend Black Friday  racing through stores and blowing their money on the best deals yet. I had just as much fun skiing though. Hitting the University of Alaska Fairbanks (UAF) ski trails a great way to get outside...for free!

The UAF trail system is great for skiing, walking, and snowshoeing. 

Watch out for branches above! Might get snow down your neck.

Some branches are small.

The trails are surrounded by trees.

Eventually, you'll reach Smith Lake or Ballaine Lake. The sky was pastel.

Some trees were shaded, while others were spotlighted in the sun. I loved the effect.

My favorite trees.

I hope everyone had a fun Friday and got a chance to enjoy outside!

Quaking

Hi Everyone! I wrote Quaking for my fiction class as part of a writing exercise. We were told to pick a news article and use it as a branching point for a scene. I came across this link and began writing. I hope you enjoy!

Quaking

Sometimes I worry about what could fall on my head or if I’ll come home one day to see my building shaking. I might reach the block and see my neighbors’ buildings in a heap upon the ground, or worse—them crushed to the concrete. Yet today, I didn’t wonder because my worry became the real thing.

I live with a fault line.

I was walking to my apartment from my office building. The sun was warm overhead and dogs ran through the parks. I saw people holding hands and cars rolling past. Then, I lost my balance.

I heard roaring like a cement truck, but still only cars rolled past. As I wobbled back atop my feet, I watched the dogs pause, noses to the air. My heart started pounding and I wished it would’ve stopped, for I think it sent vicious waves straight down the block.

Those waves of vengeful energy lifted the streets. They threw people down screaming and ripped the leaves off the trees.

I started running to my apartment, sick to think of impending doom, but I couldn’t stay in the open or my bones would be lost in engineering’s tomb.

I know this, because as the street stretched up, moaning, I watched the buildings dance side to side to the roar of dissonant music. I heard the people scream to make them stop, as if dance wasn’t soulful here, but of course they couldn’t. They wouldn’t.

They wanted to crumble, and crash they did.

From afar, I watched them shorten, buildings who once stopped the drifting clouds. They fainted from exertion or found it amusing to spread across the ground. They covered the displeased audience—my people.

Dust particles entered my nose, turning mucous to cement. I hoped it would cloud my vision of the horror ahead, but outside of our dreams, reality never quits.

Yet earthquakes do.

Only five blocks later and the turmoil ran its course. My city died in a heartbeat and I had to wonder.

I knew I should.

Could I leave my people crying, homeless within one small slice of the clock? Who will clean up the messes—all the dirt, blood, broken hearts?

I can’t help but think I had a premonition. I must’ve known what was to come, but I worried and now I wonder.

Would this still have been real had I told someone?

Blekksprut and Water

I needed to write a description for class. My favorite animal is an octopus, so I can describe it pretty well. At first, I thought I'd write about an octopus attacking a diver. When I watched videos for inspiration, I came across this one. It prompted me to write the scene below about the octopus returning to water. Pretty gross and fascinating, eh?

I also enjoyed looking up different names for the octopus. In Norwegian, the octopus is called Blekksprut. That name sounds pretty good to me, hence the title. I hope you enjoy!

Blekksprut and Water

I touch the water. As it laps my arm and weaves around my smallest suction cups, I become a bit excited. The liquid sounds the same as me now while I flick the surface. Navy wrinkles form around the tip of my tentacle with each new wave and reflect the sting of sunlight directly to my eyes. I keep stretching forward. I’m desperate.

If you follow that tentacle up, up along a slime layer becoming tacky, past wilting flower petal suction pads and a shoulder white with relaxation, you’ll find a clogged hole. It’s me of course, angry that my skin is lead over my lungs who now seem offended by air. Please come to me, fine oxygen, but I’m ignored by all but the drudgery of gravity and lack of water. Equally maddening to me, my solid skin is being tempered by the haughty sun and lukewarm water film upon the floor of this boat. I’m dying a desert death.

But keep following the red slime line of my arm. Just on the other side of the hole, you’ll notice the rest of my body. My suctions cups stick and release against the diamond textured steel like plungers, pushing me. I’m filtering through. Slowly. Squishy. Red and white.

                An unknown number of minutes ago, I wasn’t here.  I was below the boat. Calm. The sea floor felt me crawling like a breeze through your hair. Sometimes, I propelled through the turquoise waters jutted with sun rays, just enjoying myself. But they caught me in a rough-textured net and dumped me on a metal plate slicked with a sea water film. I knew I had to find the real water again.

I’m not meant to be flattened out like their snot on city sidewalks. I have no bones so water must keep my gelatinous form shapely. I need it. I want it. I smelled it.

                I slithered across their metal floor while they cackled and jived above my back. I smelt seaweed and salt wafting through a small hole, so I went for it. I’ll return to the ocean, I thought. No more scalded skin, no more soft body crushing, no more desperation for a drop back to water.

Now I’m stretching for sea spray.

Yes, I’m contorted. My legs touch my wrists while my face meets my armpits. But I have only one option. I keep seeping forward. Sliding. Inch by inch. Slowly. One tentacle submersing into sea.

The Iceboat

Hello Readers, 

     I've been busy with school and work, so obviously keeping up with the blog has been a challenge. I wrote this piece for my fiction writing class though, so I thought I'd share it. Fiction is not a style I use or experiment with, but the class has been interesting so far and I'm enjoying the challenge and trying something new. Maybe I will embrace the short story more after this semester. Enjoy!

The Iceboat

     One brisk midmorning in February, the sun gleamed across Ruby Lake. Here were the perfect conditions to take the new iceboat out for a sprint. Shaun was certain he would return before sunset as the door clicked behind him.

     The skates slid smoothly from snowbank to obsidian ice. Shaun stepped in and hoisted the sail, feeling excited. He glided quickly over the frozen water for the first time. But soon, Shaun noticed air bubbles clouding the boat’s reflection. Ahead, the weakened ice contorted upwards, forming a dangerous peak. Yet Shaun moved quickly as a charging moose.

     The impact sent Shaun soaring. Mere seconds later, Shaun followed his boat through the fragile ice. The water gurgled, swallowing Shaun as his lungs pleaded for air. He felt a bite in his leg as he struggled to pull himself back atop the ice.

     Free from the gelid hole, Shaun’s leg seared from ankle to knee, while the cold needled him. He shriveled upon standing. Hypothermia and injury weren’t keen to help him return to his cabin only 800 yards away. Having no choice, Shaun pulled his chest to his hands, using one knee as the other leg screamed. Every part of his body melded with the ice beneath him, but he continued, never so tired in his life.

     He remembered his time in the city, out of touch with the natural world and her challenge. Of course he was comfortable there, but people must fulfill an inner desire to live as their ancestors—subsisting off the land surrounding remote lakes.

     As he passed the 200 yard mark he flattened, his heart knocking his sternum and his throat burning raw with the scrape of exertion. He would give anything to sleep in the sled of some nonexistent rescuer. But Shaun was alone as a real Bushman.  Stoked with pain, Shaun’s hope was sinking with the sun.

     He understood why his friends mocked his plans. He’s just Shaun from the city after all. Iceboat Explorer and Wilderness Extraordinaire demean him, not at all the carefree existences he watched on TV.

     He crawled again.

     Closer now, the dot of the cabin expanded with each eternity. Shaun moved to escape the pain and hypothermic paralysis that refused to release him. Nature has a way of seeping into a man’s soul, he supposed, but forever forgetting her beauty posed as an afterthought until today. He watched his prime of 35 years dissipate like the heat from his skin. His life projected from his mind as Shaun pondered death. Never so miserable, never filled with as much determined hatred for the lake and his fantasies, he crawled ten more yards.

     At last! Numb, Shaun floated to the cabin and crumbled over the steps. He reached for the door as the last rays of sun, feeble as him, shined down.

     And there, in the pink February stillness, the knob ceased to turn. It was locked as the ice slabs forming the cruel wedge, resting in solitude until spring.

We've Lost Our Nature

     Hello readers! Has it been a while since I posted or what? Taking summer classes was a great decision, but it caused my blog posts to slide. 

     One class was poetry, where I wrote the poem below. My summer consisted of biology, poetry, and contemplating how to bring the earth to the mind of those who don't consider it much. I think this poem encompasses that nicely. Enjoy! :) 

We’ve Lost Our Nature

Where earth’s encased in concrete a flower grows through a sidewalk crack  

Trying     telling us something

Down the bleak path between skyscrapers

blocking sun   a person     

eyes  focused    on wrong things   

In a one-room boarded box worlds away  

sits me—hand with pen  

Moving     contemplating

                                how to speak for flowers           

(If speaking could carve grey burdens…)

Would society understand?   Will they listen

flower searching     for sun  

when I tell them

where to weld their corneas 

 invest their hands?

.        .        .

Grasp the concrete

under the crack I ask.

Lift brave, exposing roots.

Stare at land, at last

able to breath and know

flower cries relief.

Feel your heart thrum in time

with the pulse of primitive life,

enriching us before

we cemented our souls.

But we progress—dismissing flowers.

Sky Views

The smoke on my way to the gym

The sun is red...looks evil!

Fairbanks has been smokey lately--so much so that people can't go outside without wearing masks. I am not a fan of the red sun and grey air. 

Forest fires are expected in the summer, but when they get this bad I cant have outdoor adventures and summer is less than desirable. Then, I resort to posting pictures of past skies to remind myself of what blue is like.

This was the sky outside of my dorm last spring.

Here is the sky-draped mountains on my way back to Montana.

Sometimes, clouds reflect over the water. I took this picture at the Delta Clearwater in April.

The sky was actually clear at the start of summer...

Sometimes, the sky is full of migrating birds. I took this picture in Choteau, Montana while watching the snow geese migration at Freezeout Lake.

Here is the sky from a pass in Glacier National Park.

This is the sunrise from Freezeout Lake. It doesn't look too cold, does it?

I hope you enjoyed my pictures. Also, here is the Alaska fire map. I will cross my fingers that the red dots go away soon!

Fairbanks Midnight Sun Festival

Vendors lined the streets of downtown Fairbanks. It was hard to find parking, but Fairbanks has low elevation so it isn't too bad to walk.

I went to the Midnight Sun Festival last weekend. It was a nice chance to get outside, listen to music, and stock up on fair food and  ethnic food for weeks. To the left is the sign saying the festival goes from 12 p.m. to 12 a.m. To the right is the sign outlining the various vendors. Some sold food, others sold items, and some were for organizations and music groups.

This jazz band was pretty neat.

We had fun singing along to this guy while others danced.

At one point during the fest, people could race rubber ducks down the Chena River.

 I also enjoyed people watching. This person wore a unicorn mask!

The festival is a family friendly event too. I saw people of all ages, and their pets. Games and a firetruck were set up for the kids while the adults could enjoy the shopping and music. Vendors sold all varieties of food and items. There was a vendor selling knives while another vendor sold pretty baby clothes. Many vendors had wheels to spin for prizes. Some vendors were for organizations such as the Fairbanks Food Bank and the Northern Alaska Environmental Center.

I saw all sorts of dogs. There was this big guy, a dalmatian, dachshund, and huskies. Too bad I don't have a dog of my own to bring along

Since the fest was in downtown Fairbanks, you could see the fountain there, the Chena River, and various shops and restaurants.

I enjoyed the wide variety of food, but nothing says Alaska like Reindeer dogs!

Be sure to bring the sunscreen. Contrary to popular belief, Fairbanks makes up for its long winter in the summer.

I had to go home early, but here you can see the light sky even though it is 12 a.m.

I also video taped the sky so you know i'm not playing with Photoshop! :)

I suggest you check out the Midnight Sun Festival if you are ever in Fairbanks during that time of year. It was a neat event. At the very least, you should stay up and enjoy the 21 hours of sunlight. You can learn more about our light here.

Exit Glacier

     I had the privilege of visiting Exit Glacier during a natural resource management field class. We discussed how the Kenai Fjords National Park and wildlife are managed. One of the biggest issues the park faces is how to manage the disappearing Exit Glacier. People come to the park specifically to see the glacier. Yet it melts with each passing year, making access more difficult and viewing opportunities less than desirable for some park visitors.

     You can visit this link to learn more about melting glaciers. (Just don't let the chaos of climate change dampen your outlook on visiting glaciers despite how they are different from the past).
   
My experience at the park was wonderful. We hiked to Exit Glacier through the rain, which I thought added to the scenery. Below are some of the pictures I took. You can also learn more about visiting Exit Glacier here. Enjoy!

Instead of pavement, the park trails near the glacier are gravel. Because of the glacier’s movement, all structures near it including trails and viewing stations must be made portable at a low cost. Doing so ensures the structures can be moved and repaired easily when the glacier moves again. The trails are wide and not too steep until we got within a mile or so of Exit Glacier.

Along the trail we saw signs depicting where

the Glacier's terminus (ending point)

used to be. I can't imagine such a

huge glacier as Exit Glacier in 1926!

Here is the old viewing station and a prime example of why
permanent structures are not a good idea near a glacier. The
glacier receded so it is now very far from the viewing station.
The viewing station was built to last though, so it just sits
as a relic of when people didn't have to hike to see the ice.

Here you can see how Exit Glacier's size changes over time. I found this impressive and somewhat sad.

Be sure to watch for puddles on a rainy day!

Lots of neat plants live near Exit Glacier, even though
the whole area is covered in gravel.

I present to you...Exit Glacier! It was named Exit Glacier after some people exploring Harding Ice Field decided the glacier was a good place to exit. I didn't want to leave though.

We also saw Exit Glacier's moraine. You can learn more about them here.

 Maybe my pictures will inspire you to visit Exit Glacier or some other glacier on your next vacation. They are special to see, especially since they change so rapidly. I am certainly glad I got the opportunity to visit Exit Glacier and learn about resource management at the same time.

May Ruination

I went on a very enjoyable boat trip a few weekends ago in the Delta Clearwater River of Alaska. It is  a beautiful place, certainly worthy of a visit. I wrote this poem afterward:

May Ruination

This is the Delta Clearwater—a river merging

into the Tanana and eventually, by way of opposing

currents introduces a lake. Transparent liquid

blankets rounded river rocks, flowing onward.

This river holds the clearest water

I’ve ever seen, my shadow in the shallows as the sun shines down realizing, today

is subtly impressive

I paddle onward, until meeting the waters

that for nearly a mile, spill from the lake.

the currents diverge here—a role reversal

from downward floating to upstream struggle—

upstream where the birds are, resting in the lake

So I step out of my boat to the river bed,

leading the boat like a leashed dog

to trudge onward, knowing churning feet

serve me better than cycling arms for awhile,

my foot  sometimes swallowed by clay- sludge

And amid this pleasant scene a stench rises

from a rotting salmon carcass, sleeping in the mud,

finished  with her migration to waste in May’s warm weather.

Now  sun rays beat my back and the salmon seeps

into my eyes while swans fly overhead, their calls

penetrating the once silent sky. Mesmerized by the fish’s

grotesqueness against graceful swans, I take one

picture of the fish sinking into muck

thinking each spring I witness these cycles

Those birds just upon the horizon,

calling with clarion cries, flocked

 and pleased with the weather make me look

one last time at the fish before  my boat

drifts beneath the bird stoked sky.

You laugh and say, “This is where things go to die.”

Clearwater Lake, reached after paddling the Clearwater River

*Thank you to Jonnell Liebl for helping me with the structure of this poem. My first attempt was quite disorganized!

Reindeer: “Cattle of the North”

I wrote this article for my school newspaper. It is about the Reindeer Research Program at UAF. The farm promotes research and agriculture, and it is relevant to resource management. Plus, the baby deer are so cute! Enjoy.

Reindeer: “Cattle of the North”

Three calves have already been born this season at the at the Agricultural and Forestry Experiment Station farm, also known as the Reindeer Farm.

The first calf of the season and her mom live in a pen at the reindeer farm with other deer who have never calved before 2015. Jessica Herzog/Sun Star

They are part of UAF’s Reindeer Research Program, where the “cattle of the north,” as Darrell Blodgett, program data specialist  says, are housed and studied. The herd started when 20 deer from a Seward Peninsula were brought to UAF in 1997. It is now the program’s 15th year with calves, Blodgett said.

Reindeer are synonymous with Santa in the Lower 48, Blodgett said. But at UAF, the 74 reindeer enable agriculture, research about nutritional studies and meat quality and a relationship with natives on the Seward Peninsula.

The Reindeer Research Program is the only one of its kind in the world, George Aguiar, program research professional, said. People across the globe “tap into our database,” discovering the farm’s applied research, which starts with calves.

This is student-farmhand Haley Heniff’s second calving season on the farm. She is a junior studying wildlife biology at UAF.

“I feel like I have been trained to sense what to do and how to handle any calving situation,” she said. She has helped with several births, ensuring the best care for the deer.

“It’s easy to get attached to the deer, especially calves,” Heniff said. “I certainly have my favorites, but don’t tell them.“

Although Heniff gets attached to the animals, she “has no reservations” about reindeer research, she said.

Studying aspects of meat quality is vital when choosing a product to feed yourself and your family. The farm educates people about reindeer, which aren’t studied in many other places, she said.

Workers grow different grasses and experiment with food sources, exploring reindeer weight gain and food preference. Meat is presented to taste panels to create a satisfactory product, Blodgett said. Workers test satellite collars on the herd for use on the Seward Peninsula herds. The farm even made a portable slaughterhouse to encourage the presence of inspected reindeer slaughterhouses in Alaska, Blodgett said.

The research is crucial to promoting reindeer agriculture, especially for Alaskans and natives who own the Seward Peninsula herds, Blodgett said. The farm herd has been an indicator for the Seward Peninsula herds since the mid-1980s.

Applying research from the farm to the Seward Peninsula herds can help make reindeer production viable to benefit the natives, Aguiar said.

People from the farm used the mobile slaughterhouse to teach residents of Nome how to process their own animals, Blodgett said.

Without a slaughterhouse, people field-slaughter their deer on frozen ground. Meat is sold across Alaska, but outside of the state the meat is labeled “eat at your own risk,” Aguiar said.  This causes meat prices to decrease in value.

However, reindeer meat is very valuable if grown and marketed correctly.

“Reindeer can live where other livestock can’t,” Aguiar said, and reach market weight in 27 months. This makes them great livestock for Alaska and elsewhere.

The meat contains 25 percent protein and tastes sweeter than other meats.

“Its good quality threatens beef,” Aguiar said. People will pay $30 for prime cuts, but there are no deer auctions so putting a “tried and tested” auction price on the meat is challenging, he said.

To determine a base-line meat price,the farm will auction some non-producing steers during the summer of 2015 to see what people will pay for the meat, Blodgett said. 

The Reindeer Farm is “an animal production facility focusing on producing meat,” Aguiar said. They have and will continue to research and improve reindeer agriculture and production with their herd. Educating, encouraging and supporting reindeer producers benefits people. After realizing this, everything done at the farm makes sense, Aguiar said.

 *This article originally appeared on April 14, 2015 in the UAF Sun Star. Additional pictures were added. Thank you to Darrell Blodgett, George Aguiar, and Haley Heniff for your insight.

Happy Earth Day!

Happy Earth Day everyone! Today is the holiday where we give back to the earth and take time to contemplate how our actions effect the environment and ecosystems. I encourage you to start making changes to become more sustainable today.

First, I encourage you to watch The Lorax. When I was little, I watched it and was influenced to express concern for my surroundings, but the movie has relevance for people of any age.

I like the message and the simplicity of it. Without the use of confusing language and scare tactics, we are nicely reminded to consider the environment and the impact we have upon it.

Furthermore, there is a multitude of actions you can take, both small and momentous, to support a better earth. Just research terms like "sustainability" or "zero waste" to generate ideas. After seeing what you can do, take the initiative to implement what works best for you to help out the environment.

Here are some sites I like:

Learn how to reduce the amount of waste you generate at zerowastehome.com
Figure out how and where to recycle things you didn't know were recyclable at earth911.com
Learn about composting on a large or small scale at eartheasy.com


Enjoy your Earth Day and I hope you all have the chance to get outdoors and start "going green"!