Our Month in the Arctic

We arrived at Chandalar Lake on August 16 and departed on September 16. During that time we experienced only a handful of pleasant days. Most days had intermittent rain and others were squall like. The lake and creeks filled to overflowing causing anxious moments around the float plane’s mooring. The beach quickly disappeared and the willows lining the shoreline had to be cut in order to move the plane to a safe location. Tobin Creek, originating in the hills above the lodge, raced brim full before emptying into the lake. 

                   When there was beach. 

                        Plane in the willows

Carlisle and I had an unnerving experience on a morning walk with the dogs. Breezy caught sight of a rabbit crossing our trail and took chase. We soon heard her yelping and crying. To me it sounded like our beagles when on a rabbit so I wasn’t concerned. However, Lisle sensed she was hurt and dashed into the brush to locate her. There she was, clinging desperately to the creek bank, half submerged in the fast moving water. Grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, Lisle pulled her up the bank and onto dry land. I definitely witnessed a mother’s love.

We spent the next hour looking for Carlisle’s favorite hat that was lost during Breezy’s rescue. 

We walked down lichen covered paths scouring the creek banks for her hat and were surprised by seeing a moose antler protruding from the mud. Against my advice, Lisle decided to get it.

Hunters came and went during our month at the lodge. Most caribou hunters were successful and Bucky added an extra spruce pole to hold the racks, but soon a third sitting on sawhorses was needed.

The caribou antlers were changing from velvet to brown hard horn. The velvet was stripped off when the  racks arrived back at camp. It’s beautiful, but almost impossible to keep as it begins to dry. 

(The following is AI generated)

Deer have velvet on their antlers to supply blood and nutrients for rapid bone growth, with the velvety skin containing blood vessels and nerves that nourish the developing antler tissue. This living tissue is highly sensitive, and as testosterone levels rise in the fall, the blood flow stops, the velvet dries up and dies, and the deer rub it off on trees to reveal the hardened bone antlers underneath.  

A hunter suggested drying the velvet for dog treats, but I wasn’t keen on the idea. Breezy and Pika would occasionally eat scraps of velvet from the ground and neither seemed impressed.

                               Hides are cared for.

We were excited to begin our own hunt. Unfortunately, Lisle couldn’t join us due to lodge and dog responsibilities. However, our family friend, Carter, came a long and was not only terrific help, but brought much laughter to the rainy days we’d experience.

We were flown into an abandoned gold mine! Many mines dot the hills of the Brooks Range and some remain somewhat intact as if the miners just stepped away, never to return. The mine where we were placed had been abandoned for years, but just a quarter mile away was one Carter explored. He reported solid buildings, a nice bathhouse, lots of available hand tools, clothes, books, and more. He returned with a shovel, western novels for Bucky and a pair of Levi jeans just his size!! We’d have to wade across a creek to reach it, but it was good knowing a dry place was available if needed. There’s talk of some mines being reopened with gold at an all time high. However, most of the equipment that Carter saw was missing parts and apparently unusable.

This solid log house with gravel roof sat just below our camp. Unfortunately, a bear had ransacked it. There was a sealed steel drum outside with food, expired 2006!

                             Cabin’s interior 

The building behind our tents was once a decent cabin. Now it’s in rough shape but could be used for shelter if desperate.

Our exploring was done on the day we flew in which happened to be sunny, blue sky and a no hunt day. Regulations prohibit shooting an animal the same day as airborne, wolves might be an exception. I was delighted to find a clear, rectangular glass medicine bottle in a dump near the gravel roofed cabin. Frankly, the bear activity and tall grass I was walking through gave me the willies so I didn’t stay long.

Continual rain made leaving the tent to pee very uncomfortable. I know you’re curious on how I’ll address this topic. We traveled with a luggable loo (google if necessary) lined with a plastic bag. Dirty tp went into a separate tin can and was burned. We were able to bury the contents of the loo, minus the plastic bag….Carter’s job! The dilapidated building seen in the photo above housed the loo. It gave privacy and i carefully situated the loo so the leaking roof didn’t drip on us.

                                      Our tent.

                                 It’s big country.

We hunted eight days with only two clear days, the day we arrived and one other. We saw animals most days, but often they were out of range or covered by cloud.

                                     Caribou in the clouds.

         Bucky and Carter hoping the clouds would lift.

      Bucky’s charcuterie and books provided by Carter!

We experienced a 27 hour stretch of steady rain.

During this prolonged wind and rain our Cabelas tent stayed warm and dry. Carter’s small spike tent became damp so he moved in with us, placing his sleeping bag at night between our cots. We had resorted to cooking in our large vestibule and the tent’s size allowed for a folding chair to be opened inside. So, there we were, for hour after hour…..sitting on cots, laying on cots, some sitting, some laying, one in a chair…..talking reading , sleeping. Carter heard about our childhoods, our days at UVM, past loves and marriage. We heard of Carter’s high school growth spurt, his time at UVM, meeting Lisle, and fish stories….literal fish stories…..his walking on the ocean floor in diving gear, grabbing sea cucumbers and geoducks while tethered to the mother ship floating above. Stories of Orcas sighted and their possible danger to him while diving and docile fish bumping his body, tales of regaining the surface from the deep and how to avoid the bends, stories of my life at home during college and Bucky’s much more exciting college exploits. 

Slowly, the sound of rain on the tent roof softened and we awoke to snow!

Carter’s tiny tent!

The snow melted except up high and on a somewhat clear morning a small group of animals passed within range. Bucky decided to shoot. The caribou was within range and stood broadside. As he went to pull the trigger, as if in a magic act, the animal disappeared. A cloud descended like the sweep of a magician’s wand and the caribou was gone!

It was a wonderful week and we’re pretty sure Carlisle and Luke will share some meat with us. Spending a month above the Arctic Circle and in America’s remaining wilderness was such an amazing gift.

                     Leaving is such sweet sorrow!

                       From the plane window

The family and a few others celebrating Luke and his Dad’s return after flying the final clients into the field. 

It’s quiet when dinners are for 10 instead of 20 or more. The days are getting shorter and soon it will be just Carlisle, Luke and the dogs at the lodge. Northern lights will dance across the sky to the music of the wolves’ howls.

  

Breezy

Her name is Breezy. Her mother is an Alaskan husky and her father is a Karelian. She was born in a litter of 8 and was the remaining female when we retrieved her for our daughter Carlisle. She won us over, as most puppies will, the moment we cuddled her. She’s now 11 weeks old and full of wiggles and energy. She spends her days playing, eating and sleeping.  

            Breezy has the dot of tan in her forehead.

We reached out to our friend and vet tech Anja, who helped us make our selection. She provided us with a crate, collar, leash and armed us with the confidence needed to bring Breezy home to our cabin in Talkeetna. Pika wasn’t sure if she liked her new role as teacher and nanny, but accepted it with unexpected grace. Bucky and I, also questioned our strength and energy at raising a puppy until we could deliver her to Carlisle and Luke at their lodge further north, at Chandalar Lake. I’m not sure if Breezy was an easy puppy or nanny Pika’s modeling eased the process, but Breezy accepted her new crate and spent her first night and all the following nights crated without a whimper. I also found it convenient to use the crate during the day if we had an errand to run and Pika performed her nanny duties from her spot on the couch.

                                   Better together 

Breezy was at ease on car rides, in fact quickly fell asleep and slept most of the five hour drive in the motorhome to Luke and Lisle’s home in Fairbanks. 

We spent several days in Fairbanks running errands and emptying food from our motorhome before the final leg of our trip by plane to Chandalar Lake, north of the Arctic Circle. Luke and Carlisle were anxious for Breezy’s arrival. Breezy was active in the office of Wright Air as we waited for our flight.

The hour and a half flight went quickly with Breezy sleeping on my lap. Dogs are required to be kenneled, but our flight was chartered by Luke and Lisle’s lodge, Tyrrell’s Trails, so Breezy was able to be loose.

                                Finally together!

Breezy quickly made herself at home among the many hunters, guides and packers. It was hard for most to ignore her wiggles and velvet soft fur. However,  her dagger sharp teeth were avoided by all!

Lisle and I chose an unusually calm day to cross the lake and pick blueberries. The berries weren’t plentiful, but the scenery was superb. 

We’ve been at Chandalar for a little over a week. Several hunters have been successful harvesting Dall sheep. At least one wolf has been killed and numerous caribou. Luke, Lisle and Rick, Luke’s dad, spend much of each day flying hunters in and out of the field as well as bringing trophies and meat back for processing. The camp is always busy with tents to clean, beds to make, meat to cut and meals to prepare. Bucky and I sleep in Luke and Lisle’s cabin which provides an escape when lodge life becomes too hectic. This is Bucky and my third summer at Tyrrell’s Trails and I’ve found areas where I can be helpful and others where it’s best to just step aside. It’s amazing when all the moving pieces come together and a hunter enjoys “the trip of a lifetime”. The lodge clientele is as varied as the animals they hunt. They are from all walks of life. Some hunters make return trips while others have scrimped and saved for one opportunity to hunt in Alaska.

We’re trying to teach Breezy to swim. Pika loves to swim and models this often. However, Breezy has yet to show Pika’s enthusiasm for being wet!

Sheep season will soon end with moose hunting upcoming. The tundra is changing color each day. We will probably hunt caribou within the next 10 days. Right now, the caribou aren’t where we normally hunt. We’re waiting and hoping they arrive soon.

AIRS

10,197’ Mt. Redoubt is in Lake Clark National Park

I was anxious to get to the beach which was just in front of our motorhome. The air was filled with the customary sea smells and the loud shrieks of eagles feeding on beach carrion.

The drive from Kenai had been nothing short of spectacular. Fireweed cast a purple glow on both sides of the highway and rolled like an amethyst carpet into the nearby hills. Across Cook Inlet, the snow white peaks of Mt. Iliamna and Mt. Redoubt penetrated an azure blue sky, better known in our hometown as Middlebury blue.

10,016’ Mt. Iliamna also within Lake Clark National Park 

I heard John Deere tractors start their engines preparing to launch fishing boats into halibut rich water. It’s an interesting process in which the boats are loaded on shore while still trailered. Tall step ladders are used to get people and gear onboard. The tractor then hooks to the trailer and backs the fully loaded boat from the beach into the ocean. Once buoyant, the boat is released from the trailer and motors away. The trailer is numbered and parked on the beach until the boat returns.

Exiting the water is much more exciting. If the tide is out, the tractors back far off shore. By use of some sort of communication, the boat notifies the tractor crew that it’s ready to come ashore. The boat bobs in deep water until its trailer is retrieved and backed into the ocean. Then, gathering speed, which might mean making a loop around to achieve, the boat pilot literally drives his boat onto the waiting trailer. Some boats approach with such speed it looks like a crash about to happen. Everyone and everything stays aboard until boat and trailer are safely on the beach. Only then are the high step ladders once again used to remove people and gear.

This large charter boat circles to gather speed before driving onto its trailer.

Our dog, Pika, discovered that the beach provided a seafood buffet. I found it impossible to prevent her from tasting the many appetizing fish parts so I let her have her way. Fortunately, this resulted in only a few upchucks. The following day she apparently had learned what pleased her palate and what didn’t as she walked past a number of ocean treasures.

The day was so beautiful that we took a selfie!

We packed up to leave our campsite just as numerous folks arrived to fish from the beach. This style of fishing seemed to rely on the tide. I was really hoping to see someone have success, but it didn’t happen. By the time they picked up to leave, the sun had lowered and a stiff wind blew. What had been T-

shirt weather now required hooded jackets.

I struggled to attach the correct names to the volcanoes we were seeing. Seldom have we seen them so clearly. I remembered a large panoramic display of the volcanoes at Anchor Point State Recreation Area, so we headed there. It helped me to use the acronym AIRS when viewing the four most prominent volcanoes from south to north. (Augustine, Iliamna, Redoubt, Spurr)

We left the coastline to revisit Nikolaevsk, a town settled by members of the Russian Orthodox Church and known as “Old Believers”. This sect of the Russian Orthodox Church adheres more strictly to old rituals and “beliefs”. Over three hundred people live in Nikolaevsk where both Russian and English are spoken.

We drove into the fireweed covered hills and stopped to eat a sandwich beside the road. From here we could look down into the valley below.

We passed well maintained houses and poorer looking homes. In some yards, large fishing boats were cradled, indicating a connection to the sea despite living in the hills. A large modern school was located not far from the post office and Orthodox Church.

We easily located Nina’s Cafe. Many years ago I bought a painted Russian spoon from Nina. I really hadn’t wanted or even needed the spoon but I bought it in an attempt to dissuade Nina from trying to sell me a very expensive lacquered tea set. That day, Nina had encouraged us, actually demanded that we eat borscht. She dressed us in traditional Russian attire and then took a picture of us standing among her nesting dolls and tea sets. I think she hoped we would pay for our glamour shot, but we didn’t.

We viewed her as a little crazy and left as quickly and politely as we could.

The Samovar Cafe

On this day, Nina’s cafe looked run down and its once beautifully painted exterior looked in need of repainting. The cafe looked permanently closed, but we were informed that Nina was still in business, but only serving guests by appointment. No longer are customers invited inside to be “encouraged “ by Nina to buy from her crowded shelves or eat borscht. They are now served outdoors on a picnic table.

Nina!

The dirt road from Nikolaevsk continues on to Homer located at the very end of the Kenai Peninsula. We chose to turn around in Nikolaevsk and head home. The following day we returned to our cabin in Talkeetna feeling glad to have once again experienced the Kenai Peninsula.

Our cabin!

Last night’s visitors. We have the best rain water in Talkeetna an no need to bend over when drinking!