Allons-y! A Summer in Review

It is with mixed emotions that I am here to report that I now know where I'm going. For the short term, anyway. After much hemming and hawing and budgeting on scrap pieces of paper, I bought myself a ticket back to Florida until the end of October. It turned out to be about $500 cheaper than my other travel schemes, and I need to see my family anyway. From there, the plan is to head to Spokane, WA, to seek out a new life, yet again. 

Adventures at the Top of the World

A steady snowfall of big, fat clumps of flakes descends from the gray, mid-afternoon sky, mixed with cold rain, and illuminated by an industrial floodlight on an adjacent building. The ground is muddy with puddles the size of small ponds outside. A faint aroma of gasoline and burning fuel wafts in through the slightly opened window pane, an ironic contrast to the soft touch of the Arctic ice crystals floating down from the heavens.

I am in Deadhorse, AK, sitting in a shipping container-turned-bedroom at an oil company work camp. I came here originally to visit someone for a few days, but that stay has turned into over a week, thanks to my flight getting canceled for foggy weather. I don't mind too much. It's been an interesting soul searching sort of experience here at the top of the world, I suppose.

Deadhorse: almost as far north as you can get in AK

A taste of culture

First, I want to share the video I made from the footage on my lost GoPro. It's basically a shortened version of everything I said in my last post. Enjoy!

In other news, yesterday I got to go shoot photography for a local cultural fall festival in the community. Almost as soon as I walked in, I was handed an Eskimo yo-yo made out of duct tape that said "I ♥ bacon" on it (SO random, right??). The woman tried to show me how to do it, but I was pretty hopeless at first. 

Paying it Forward, GoPro Style

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I was casually perusing the community Facebook group, Nome Post, to see what sort of things were going on. Something caught my eye:

My father-in-law found a GoPro Hero 2 camera on Dexter Creek (behind Anvil Mtn.) with winter outdoor footage from January of 2011. If it's yours or you know whose it is, post or call [Name and number]. We hope to reunite it with its owner! Thanks!

My heart stopped. Could it be? I had a flashback to this past winter when I devastatingly lost my GoPro Hero2 while snowshoeing in that same area. I had felt horrible about it for days, having saved up for months and had just bought it for myself. 

Pilgrim Hot Springs

Only in Nome, AK, does it make sense to drive 2 and a 1/2 hours north at 6 o'clock at night after work on a week night to visit a hot spring that you were told not to go to.

Well, on that flawless logic, that's exactly what I did with a group of friends. 

Grand Central Camping

Two weekends ago (already!), I went on my first camping trip of the summer. I guess this kind of surprised me because last summer was FULL of camping in the backcountry, sometimes several times a month. This year hasn't been quite as exciting in that regard, so after work on Saturday my coworkers and a friend from town headed about 50 miles up the road into the mountains for a night under the stars.

Village of White Mountain

Tuesday morning I found myself seated in the front of a bush plane, cruising due east under a high cloud ceiling, my flat hat sitting primly on my lap. I watched the landscape under me morph from light rolling tundra to the hunter green of dense coniferous forests. I was headed to the Native Village of White Mountain to give a Junior Ranger program to the local youth.

First forest I've seen in months!

We landed on a dirt airstrip at the top of a hill overlooking the gorgeous, colorful village. An older man in a rickety red pickup truck with mosquito screens for windows picked us up and somehow all 5 of us from the flight crowded into the cab.

One man who had come in on our flight asked the pressing question: "So where IS the 'White Mountain'?" The driver laughed. "It's not actually a mountain. It's that dirt hill over there. It reflects white when the sun hits it the right way. That's how the village got it's name." In fact, the dirt hill to which he was referring was even smaller than the hill with the landing strip, and looked about as mundane as you can get. He dropped us off at the Tribal Hall, where we were to give our program.

As it turned out, the village had no received our advertisements in time, and so word had not been spread that we were coming. Everyone was very friendly though, and began calling whoever they knew with kids and telling them to come to the Tribal Hall. Although we planned to start at 1:30pm, we were told that most kids would still be sleeping (Alaskan children have strange sleep schedules in the summer).

Nonetheless, eventually a few children filtered in, just 9 in all -- much fewer than the usual 30-45 we get for village programs.

Our topic for the day was the Ice Age, a program we've been developing over the last few weeks among our staff. It's a huge challenge to teach a topic like that to children ranging in age from 3-15, most of whom have never even heard of it, or have the same concept of time and history as they might have been taught in the lower-48.

We focused on Ice Age wildlife though, and after some indoor activities, we came outside into the mosquito-laden sunlight for some active outdoor games.

Playing Ice Age twister in the schoolyard

Making fossil crafts

Overall the program went well and the kids seemed to enjoy it, despite having such a small crowd. It was interesting talking to some of them and seeing what a strong influence the Fish River has on their lives. In the summer, they spend all their time with their families out fishing, hunting, or swimming. There looked to be more boats than 4-wheelers, and pretty much no cars at all in the village.

Afterwards, we had about an hour to kill before our plane arrived again, so we took the time to explore the forested village.

Tribal hall

View of town from Tribal Hall, and the Fish River

Main street through town

The Fish River

Inside the Native Store (the only store in town)

Dilapidated building

Cute little church

Fish drying

I found White Mountain to be at least as friendly as Shishmaref. Everyone seemed so happy and welcoming (perhaps also because they might have thought we were State Troopers or cops, as many people do!).

View from top of White Mountain

We found our way to the village's namesake and climbed up. I could clearly see why the town was named for it -- not only did it have abundant white rocks, but you could see all of the land for miles around from its low peak.

View from opposite direction of the village

Yours truly, on top of White Mountain

I don't like to pick favorites, but I have to say that White Mountain definitely won me over. Maybe I'm just tree-deprived, or was swayed by the warm sunlight that we've been lacking in Nome, but this village left a lasting impression on me. It felt like more like the imagined "Alaska" that everyone thinks of when they conceptualize the rural parts of the state, so it was fascinating to see and experience.