hello how are you? there's a boat coming. sssh, wait

welcome to our little village. come sit by our fire and visit for a little while

Thursday, April 22, 2010

the nenana ice classic

since 1917, nenana has been the site of the annual nenana ice classic.  a statewide game of chance to guess the day, hour, and minute  the ice will go out on the tanana river.  the winner(s) collect or share about $300,000 in recent years. a chance costs $2.50.  many stores, bars, restaurants across the state receive a packet of tickets and a red 5 gallon can for completed guesses.
started by railroad workers to stifle cabin fever from long cold winters. today a black and white striped tripod is embedded into the frozen river in march. several weeks before breakup the tripod is connected by a line festooned with small flags to a tower on the dock. once the tripod moves 300 feet, the line through a series of pulleys stops a clock and triggers a siren, alerting our small community.  the watchman on duty at the time, verifies the time, opens the guess book displaying the page with the winning time, and secures the watchtower.  it's not long before many people from fairbanks and along the parks highway start arriving on the dock to see breakup for themselves. many expressing disappointment. comforted a bit by pride in how close they came to winning. having the right time but maybe the wrong day, or ONLY one hour off.  it's not uncommon for those watching the news reports and expecting the ice to move at any time to take the drive to nenana in hopes of being  on the dock when  it moves. RV visitors come prepared and determined to wait just to witness this. this includes a fairbanks radio station hoping to catch the singular moment the clock stops.
a rite of our alaskan spring, the ice classic unofficially signals the start of summer for interior alaska. once the river is free of it's winter cover and the water again begins carving the river banks and making sandbars, waterfowl from creamers field in fairbanks and all the hundreds of lakes along the tanana valley migrate to the river.  as a young man going to the uaf in fairbanks, i knew when the ice went out by the sudden absence of these birds. while they disappear from the mainland, they multiply on the river. there will be bands of geese, ducks, swans, cranes flying everywhere.  spring has truly arrived and summer is imminent.
for now however, the work of tabulating thousands of guesses into a book is at hand.  any local wishing a short term job is hired. many locals talk fondly of their first job at the ice classic and how the work was done in the old days. somehow it was better then. before computers and when every guess was counted and recorded by hand.
the tabulation work starts soon after the ticket deadline of midnight April 5th. all the red  cans from across the state are collected in person or sent by private freight. state law prohibits using the mail service or the Internet for gaming.  i find this as a confining restriction but i'm unable to speak of the current law with any degree of reliability. suffice it to say, nenana finds a way to gather all guesses within the confines of regulation..unencumbered and with the approval of lawmakers and administrators, many who have purchased a guess. each ticket outlet starts with a red can, ice classic brochures, and a batch of tickets identified by serial numbers and log sheets. all issued shortly after the tripod is raised in the 1st weekend in march, celebrated as tripod days.  it's become a much larger event from the early days of the railroad.
after completed guesses are returned the total from that location is counted by weighting the contents of the can. over the years this process has been refined and improved. much of the process can be considered proprietary so i will not go into detail.
with guesses returned  it is certain that temporary local work will be available in the community civic center. the rush to build a thick book of guesses. then the only thing to do is wait for the river to select a winner, and very often more than one. there are many office pools buying blocks of tickets, improving their chance of a win by selecting blocks of dates.  in the past there have even been individuals using computers and the science of statistics. having some success these people really have the same chance of winning as the normal everyday individual buying a single chance. their statistics are flawed unless the weather can be factored into the mix. regardless of weather, ice thickness, and the melt on the tanana valley floor. in my mind the primary  factor is the speed of the melt and runoff in the alaska range foothills at the tanana river headwaters.

eventually the river opens up above the nenana railroad bridge and the nenana river runoff cuts an open below the parks highway bridge. then the Hugh sheet of ice in between at least a half mile long and as wide as our river moves tripod and all.  some years in exceptionally warm weather the ice will honeycomb and break into small floating islands collectively gathering against the tripod to push it out. unlike the yukon with super sized cakes of ice grinding and thundering for miles, the tanana river breakup is comparatively mild. some years the melt is so rapid that the ice rots around the tripod base. it leans then falls. lying down, as if it's tired of waiting. still anchored to the ice it will move with breakup and trip the clock.
it makes no difference how dramatic the ice may move.  in nenana it's all about the commotion  caused when the clock stops. newspapers statewide report with front page articles and our dock fills with all makes and sizes of vehicles containing visitors from near and far, looking at our river returned again but mainly checking the clock and book of guesses for themselves. most leave without a win but with fond memories of their nenana visit watching the ice leave our river on it's way to the yukon carrying the tripod with it, the yukon usually breaks up around a week later.

while all this activity is happening, many locals including yours truly will be preparing boats for the first ride of the season. launching at the first sign of interior alaska heat. i'll be curious as to what damage the moving ice has done to familiar picnic spots, riverside fish camps, and willow islands. as a young man i would launch and follow the ice. hunting as i go. spring camping is the best as the country wakes up and comes alive.
having gotten our water back we can now begin our summer of work and play on the river that is our home.  if we've had some luck our gas will be paid for by the ice that kept our river still for 8 months. but most like me will pay the $3.50+/gallon to take a boat ride.
spring breakup resets our personal clocks and sets in motion all those activities making nenana a summer home until it freezes again in october. the returning cold and ice preceded only by 24 hour daylight, fish camp, fall moose camp, and berry patches. part of the fabric of life in our alaska home.

most here would not have it any other way, win or loose. so i must put down this blog and return to the work of preparing my boat.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

the spring can be stingy with it's winter cold. a good hard chill is my friend.

spring time in Alaska starts in march with a low ENE sun, the horizon begins to glow at about 7:00 am setting later each day around 8:00pm.
the tops of the tallest spruce are first to brighten~~then long timber shadows sweep across lakes, holding down the morning chill in every lump and dip across the deceptively smooth open.
at about 1:00 the sun sits due south. despite it's elevation, the  low sun is much more intense than other times. or maybe it's just me waking up after a winter of 6 hour days and long clear cold nights.

ice and snow turning to crystal,
nature's way of gathering up the winter water to sweep it away.

time to  put away the winter parka.
take out a less bulky, windproof, warm spring/fall parka.  adjusting the outdoor gear for the work and play that's about to begin.

despite the warmer day temps of  20-45 degrees, wind can and will rise at any time to put a damper on any outdoor activity. changing gear does not mean putting away the old.  it's wiser to just put aside for now. it can turn very cold quickly.

the spring and it's cold is a good time for working and running a snowmachine through portages clearing wind fall.  trails will stay good for maybe another month.  it's the dog racing season with hard packed slippery trails.
clearing and maintaining a portage is all day hot sweaty work.
snow from willow falls getting arms and shoulders wet,
even with a hard spring freeze it's easy to sweat from cutting windfall and tossing it off the trail.  sweat and a low sun can put a serious chill on an active body.
to counteract while working i am always mindful of open areas next to a good dry timber stand bathed in sunlight as a place to stop unzip my parka and carharts to vent moisture.
it's this time of year when our ubiquitous carharts getting wet around the cuff grow balls of ice on each hanging fray.  making round clacking ice tassels.

working in the portage...anticipating spring.
with carhart ice golf balls walking down a hard trail, i imagine how soft this trail will soon get.  how the sloughs and lakes are gathering water to make overflow even when below +32 degrees.

there will be much danger in due time.
but no worries, it's the easiest of all dangers to overcome by paying attention to snow surfaces and water flow.
i follow the sun. it's warmth brings both danger and safety. as a warm day in the portage progresses....snow and ice crystallize.

when i start punching through the trail i elevate my attention to more and more dark patches growing on the lakes and sloughs. i see ever so slight dips in large open areas and other signs of water. this tells me maybe it's time to quit for the day.

keeping in mind where the moose tracks were heading.  i will start again tomorrow on the morning crust and follow yesterday's tracks from an otherwise inaccessible place. see if they divert, and work my way back home from the other end of the portage.

melted from day, an early morning chill makes a crust on the snow.  traveling becomes very easy, with a lower risk of water danger.  when i go out in the morning riding the crust i can go just about anywhere. returning the next morning on the same crust.  by noon the crust will start to collapse. overflow seeps up from lakes and creek bottoms. 

with a little speed i can cross overflow on the short lived crust, but as soon as it fails>> water and slush become obstacles.
get stuck in overflow and it could be a survival test.  not only may a fire be needed, but if i get stuck my ride will be packing a load of slush, freezing to skis, tracks, running boards.  making my ride at least double it's original weight.
it will become useless unless it's cleaned.

a discerning eye and experience will help avoid trouble, but if there's one thing I've learned over the years.....
i can apply my knowledge each year to trails, lakes, and sloughs....
but I've never learned it all.  over confidence is a killer!

as warm weather takes it's time,
anticipation builds by the day,
on a good spring crust a person can walk on top of deep snow through the brush anywhere.  i always used these times to explore areas i wouldn't normally be able to access such as deep creeks, ridge passes or crossings.
the perfect weather to head out cross country to lakes and rivers for some serious ice fishing.  people all along the river right now are pulling out huge pike from the Yukon.
I've talked with locals about going out and setting a lush line here...but it never seems to come together. so many other things to do at this time of year.

sigh...if only i had use of both my legs and arms i would be out spearing a hole in the ice, hunting pike and ling-cod (lush).
but i cannot on my own. such is my world today, must tolerate my left side paralysis and depend on the goodness of others.

so....on my own I'll try to take in as much other spring activities as i can if even only to watch, like sledding on the north nenana toghotelle hill. or nenana's ice classic tripod raising, or the north American championship dog races in Fairbanks.  the country and city begin to come alive with the longer warmer days. the spring fever bug is everywhere. most of us spend much more time outdoors enjoying the many spring carnivals and other activities typical of this time of year.
everyone is waiting for the bands of calling geese, ducks, cranes, and swans.  soon they will arrive along with little birds everywhere. spring cleaning of my yard also means maintaining a bird house.  good to have as many birds living near me as possible to help keep the mosquitoes down all summer. and they make good company, becoming very tame provided your karma is right.  it wasn't uncommon for a swallow to briefly land on my head after I've spent days working around the yard. my boy as a toddler would get so excited when this happened and would giggle uncontrollably with delight. made the Little birds nervous and they would flee, sitting in nearby trees waiting for calm quiet to return.
a quiet broken only by laughing geese and puffed up frogs. all singing to their sweethearts. dancing cranes adding to the beauty that is our alaskan spring.  the country comes alive and promises 24 hour daylight.
newborn moose caves renewing life in the north. munching on pussy willows, that my childen learned to call moose baby food.

it's spring...a celebration!

Friday, March 19, 2010

checking mail

everyone here has a post off ice box.  street addresses are few. the post ofice makes for a good place to meet others.  the post office does fine with the few packages i get.  and they also manage to provide ample fire starter while keeping my bills dry. it's bulletin board is one of the good spots, along with the store. to check on town happenings. everyone comes to the post office eventually.

i'll take my time since there's never  a need to rush and check mail, unless I'm expecting something. a check in the mail will get the most attention. besides i just collect mail while missy engages her nose to catch up on all her local news; like who's in heat, or the prowl. then she leaves her mark for others to catch up on her news.

we're not just checking mail, collect is more accurate. newspaper ads, monthly bills, and newsletters.
along about 2pm i'll fire up my truck for the 5 mile run up the parks hwy to town. people will be moving around by that time. missy gets excited as we leave the parks hwy onto nenana's main street. she's eager and starts whining as we reach the old railroad depot and  turn to go to the post, corner of 2nd and B sts.  most of the time, the disabled space is open.  but some people rush using whatever is handy including these marked spaces without a permit.
it bothers me, and often hinders my mobility, but i make do.
maybe not every day, but the flag marking our post often seems to be in motion. nenana has a habit of catching the wind from the river valley and toghotthele hill just across the river. missy jumps out of the truck heading to her favorite sniffing spots. it takes me some time to climb the stairs. so i let missy go...... get her fill.
reaching the door i call her, "checking mail!"   she comes bounding up ready to go in. and with a bit of luck there will be others there doing the same as us.
both our postal mistress', brenda and Teresa always gives missy and i a big hello.  catching us emptying our cubby hole of paper into my mail bag. takes no longer than it takes a hungry man to eat a meal. and we're done. except for the visit. meeting others always results in a highlight for the day.  seems to always be new faces in town. maybe visitors or newcomers.  really makes no difference. one cannot  spend time passing each other and not saying anything, good old Alaskan hospitality will begin a conversation.
i always start with a handshake and my name. the usual response,  "oh...a demientieff. are you related to mitch, shirley, kathy?" or many others, downriver, down the hwy, or in town. happy to know someone in common.  of course, i know them, and they happen to be my relations.
happens to be one of the largest families in the state.
mail retrieved but we're not going home yet.
an occasional stop at the store for items needed before my next trip to fairbanks.  i'll check their bulletin board.  say hi to ty and marilyn.  our only store was established here in 1916 by long time local family, Coghill.
one can read their story in jack Coghill's book, growing up in alaska.
final stop is just across the street at jester's palace. one of nenana's watering holes, see who's tending bar and who's full of it.  after ordering my usual VO and water.  i'll sit back relax, while missy waits in the truck.  all town dogs, 'cept for the bar owners were kicked out last summer. otherwise she would normally lay at my feet patiently waiting. as she normally does.
greeting everyone and being a gentle talking dog.  those who know missy, ask her the same question, "how's life?"  to which she always replies the same, "ruff". everyone seems to love my pound dog.
catching up on the local news is best in the bar. jaded as it were, all information seems to funnel through the only 2 downtown bars.
not only is it important you see others, but just as important to be seen.  if you don't show up somewhere in town, someone will be checking on you.  see if smoke is coming from your stove pipe. literally and figuratively.  keeping an eye on each other is a popular past time.  one might say the worst the news....the harder we listen.  this i think is typical of all small communities.  we have our own city politics, school issues, reluctant vehicles, and in nenana oil & wood, weather and ice breakup debates. without exception, everyone eventually agrees on how different things are these days, but that's about it.
.
done with town errands it's home again to fix our dinner taken out to thaw before leaving.
if there's lots of work at home i will go straight to the post then directly home.  winter daylight doesn't allow for much lollygaging.  but i evjoy my rounds through town.  it's my connection with who i am and how i belong.  but it's oh so good to get home again, where it's easy to walk and we're safe.
dinner and we wrap up our day.  homesteading work tomorrow...rest.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

river names

when we hear a person's name. it's possible to tell which village they come from.  in some cases it's possible
to guess a person's home by the way they walk.
really..........
like accents revealing if you are from the koyukon or innoko,
river names keep a record of  life, home, and family.

there is a sandbar on the tanana river at the mouth of the wood river.=35miles^above nenana.

i call this sandbar, missy island.  it's a sandbar that builds up and washes out from time to time...probably why it's not on any map and has no name.  it never stays around long enough.

 i call it missy island, because i did something there,
 was the first place i took my new pound dog. a blond lab named missy.
 on the river i need a good dog.

 i sprung her from death row.
 her time was up and we found each other.
absolutely nothing wrong with that dog. think it was the loser who dropped her off.
discarded......poor!
but good for me and missy.

after bringing  her home to nenana. i brought her into town and to the river bank,
introducing her to her new home. all low key, no excitement.
just..matter of fact. here we are. no need to run! you're home now.

missy took her first boat ride up river after a couple days of peace and quiet.
no destination in particular.  just needed a good drift pile to make a dandy fire.


 locked up dog. now free!

the sandbar at the mouth of the woodriver just happn' to come along. and we gave the place a name.
maybe the name will stick.  probably not, the island will be gone again in time.
the river returning it years later. with more firewood for others to come along and have a picnic. give it a name. a temporary label to recall memories.
she ruuunnnn!!  above^, missy prefers riding inside the boat. watches my every move.  are we there yet? she's now my constant companion. i have no privacy.

found out she could swim. it may be a natural instinct.but  missy did not know it yet.
till i dropped her over board while tied up on the bar.
shaaake...then rrruun..... again.
couldn't keep her out of the water after that.

the island i call missy was largely unknown till now. after all it's not really an official island on any maps, and certainly doesn't have a name.
it's a sandbar! comes and goes.
sandbars by their very nature remain anonymous. until someone comes along and gives the place a name.

a tanana river picnic on a warm summer day,  free of mosquitoes watching a water dog discover water. occasionally checked out by a passing seagull.

building memories to recall...
saying, remember that summer going to missy island? everyone say Ya!
the island finally had a name, at least for now, at least in this one short life.
and there is no mistaking where it was, or what we did.
our homeland is filled with stories such as this, many for every family.

i also have a rabbit point and egg island on the yukon.
i'm pretty sure everyone has place they've named. it's how people begin to say.  "oh, that's  bennie's, gopher's, or whoever.  it's their place and ours together. passing on stories and names to keep our balance.

now if i were to tell my bro', duke that the channel is moving back behind missy island, he wouldn't know immediately where i was talking about. until i mention another story....when the wood river becomes a little easier or harder to get into.  then he would know exactly which sandbar was missy island. or may be it was gone, nameless again.

when someone asks me,
do you know where 9 mile is? i say.....YA!
even if i'm really not sure if he/she means 9 mile point or camp, or could be a lake.
i get my bearings, by following their story, and  i will  know exactly where they mean by the time they're done telling.
it's important for them that i know exactly where they mean.
that way i learn new places all the time.

at these times when people approach and ask if i know a place,
mostly i have no clue as to where they mean, our river experiences are so vastly different.
makes no difference............
time to scratch lines on the ground and point it out.
names display the life of our river.
and usually when drawing the map the story of this unknown place comes out.  they can become quite animated.
so much joy in this connection with our river. what happen there and it's name.

 river names meaning only one thing in nenana,  might not be understood by those in the city or other villages.

 i can say," i going to hee hee haa haa's.

where's that?

for nenana river rats.
it's 17 mile's from nenana on the way to minto, near half way. most everyone in our village knows 17 mile.
a beautiful small point at the head of a cut-off,  a small eddie with snags waving in the water. and good place to tie up, easy climb up the bank to a level, brush free fish camp.  tip of a spruce stand.
minto also called it 17 mile.  whether coming from down or up river, it's still 17 mile.
could be 18 miles i guess, but it's already close enough to precise.

and where is................hee hee ha ha's?........
where it's been all this time,

it's auther and ellen frank's camp at 17 mile.
he could laugh so hard.

HEE...HEE..... HA HA.. till we split a gut!!

it's how we knew where we were. he and ellen could always make one feel at home.
laughing at your corny jokes, and telling river stories.

rip art....god bless you ga na',
every one knew aurther frank, 17 mile.or so. below nenana,..they say.

about an hour for me on a barge.
now it's 1/2 hour in the boat i use today.

still arther's place.
and i think of him each time i go by.
god bless bless his soul. could laugh so hard!!! 

17 mile turns out now to be one of my favorite spots to watch the yukon 800. they have to pass close there in order to hit a short cut just across the river. and arthur is still there.  watching the race with me.
we make a fire and pull up one of  the old rickety folding chairs left there.

ask a map a name?  it'll say...where?

ask our locals a river name and  you can't just hear it...you have to listen.
then you'll know where you are..maybe where you're going.

it's the river and who we are.
makes no diference what those places are called now, just as long as we know how you mean.

still gonna be hee hee ha ha's place. till a new experience is found by a new generation.
they won't get lost there.  it's hee hee's home and they'll be safe.

i don't know know the origin of nenana's name, will rewrite jack coghill's recollection here from his book, growing up in alaska,

i can only guess that the original name comes from toghetelle ( tog..geh'. tea..lee),name of the hill across the river.  the nenana river comes out of the alaska range and meets the tanana river here.
but it eludes me where ne..na..na came from.
toghetelle hill can be seen for miles below our village.  the confluence with the nenana river marks a change in the tanana.  there is a small step in the river here,  the river to fairbanks changes. the current picks up, channels get narrow, more gravel. until the next step in the river at the mouth of the chena. changes again above there. much more gravel, swift, many small channels none very deep cause the water is divided up many times.

what follows is from jack coghill's book, growing up in alaska, a description rich with other local place names,  i cannot verify it's accuracy, nor do i need to.  it's part of the local lore...part of our river story.

i quote:
"it takes it's name from an actual athabascan gathering place called nenashana on the otherside of the Tanana River.  nenana was never a home community of the athabascan people.  they traveled from wood river, upriver from salcha, and down river from minto.  many of the native alaskans lived in a place called tolovana and there were also large communities at Toklat and Bear Paw up in the Kantisna River area, over into the Tolite Area, which is the headwater of the Kuskokwim River.  downriver people from the Yukon River came up as far as Cross-chak.  this was long before Chena and Fairbanks or any other Interior Alaska town established by the gold miners."

there must be hundreds of stories and place names showing how we all got together here, all along the journey to nenana.

but i think it boils down to basics.
we're here because
it's a good spot.  the confluence of two rivers. a hill close by...and fairbanks just far enough away.
still connected with our yukon river neighbors and families.

it's called our home
and it's name is nenana

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

our changing river>gives life to everything

 the tanana river changes are much more than just the norm.  with it's heavy silt there are some crossings where the channel can move completely across the river in a day and night. that's the nature of the tanana. occasionally makes for some difficult barge navigation with the eb and flow of the season.
provides  the river pilot, the challenge and excitement of work.
and nenana Riverrats, the opportunity to explore new sloughs and by-ways.
.
on a trip from fairbanks to tanana and return in 2003 i followed the usual channel wth my small fiber glass boat, I've named the miss behavin'.  going down, nothing was noteworthy in a spot called devil's elbow, just above the mouth of the wood river.
i have been going through this narrow sharp bend for as long as i can remember.  always there's plenty of water, at least 20 feet deep and 100 yards wide.
on the return 3 days later i came around the bend and the entire channel was shut off with not just a silt bar but with heavy gravel.   i could of walked across the old channel.
this told me that there had been a heavy runoff from the alaska range and many changes from delta junction on down.  having to have to now go around the island. i stopped at the head of the bend and was astonished to find this new bar higher than the cabin on my boat!  amazed at the power in the river to move so much material in such a short period of time.
i returned to the same place a year later.~~~ 
devils elbow is no more.  from the signs i see, this has happened before. part of the normal movement of the river as it whips back and forth across the tanana valley floor.  while i initially thought of global warming and changes in the mountains, i do not think the larger questions are not what happened to devil's elbow.  part of it? yes. cause of it? no.
fly over the tanana valley and it's pretty obvious the river has made hundreds of lakes and sloughs. we've always called, these dead bends.  someday the river will return there. a cycle of life.

water finding it's path of least resistance, gives birth to cut banks, when in a heavy flow  can be read like the water.
heavy caving of the banks adds more silt,drift, and makes foam sail boats.  see lots of foam comming down is the clue that changes can be found above.
the Tanana River walking back and forth across the valley giving life to our lakes and sloughs are not the only changes in constant motion in our homeland.


at one time there was no parks highway. 
the village of minto was 30-40 miles closer.
the railroad made nenana one of it's scheduled stops.


while the river takes it's good ol' time~~~

~~~~we here in nenana have sped up.  where a trip to fairbanks was an entire one day affair, now it's an hour away.  run to town, then get the heck out is how most people talk of city errands.

in time, river commerce and barging will be a primary reason to dredge the area in front of our dock.  the river has always been trying to reclaim or fill it in over the years.  such work will bring more change to our town.
people will welcome new opportunities and yes the river will keep filling it back in. and nenana will adapt as a community.


tough people we are, external and internal pressure to keep what we have...tradition!, the rivers of change eroding the banks of our culture are unknowns, only thing for sure is change. a familiar consistant struggle to keep our culture. there will be new channels to find. new sweepers and snags to remember.

it's always the same challenge for us. same big questions posed to a culture that have survived for thousands of years....
we'll cut a new channel. but why are we always the ones having to have to change?
the familiarity gives me comfort,  been there, done that!  i'm especially encouraged when i see young people talk openingly about carrying on.

i think we will survive. 
changed for sure.
but still here................ like our river.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

elders

nenana elders as well as elders in every village are treasured.  as a council of elders,  they have their own senior center and transportation. the Seniors as it's called is a modest building with a bus garage, dining room, kitchen, and office.  each day many people from around the community gather to have lunch with these respected community members.  you don't have to be an elder to have lunch.  just $5.00 and an appetite.  elders don't pay, and those who cannot make it have a lunch delivered to their home.
following lunch there are announcements on local happenings.  maybe a tourist or other visitor from out of town gives a short speech.  occasionally political candidates are some of the regulars.  after all, one can have a better chance at success if grandma and grandpa approve.  and they will say so or NOT.
from time to time, elders from the fairbanks senior center travel down to nenana for lunch.  much happiness and visiting goes on.

at a village potlatch the elders are given a place of honor, usually close to the wood stove where they will be warm and the first to be served. often their speeches will be in our native language, always reinforcing support to carry tradition forward as the key to happiness and  unity in our little village.  reiterating how a person must show respect to this food and each other to keep your luck.

at 59 i am beginning to feel like an apprentice elder.  today I'm given much respect by our young people wherever i go.  the choice parts of game and our native food is always given to the elders by the young.
irrespective of what the social security says about age and eligibility. i was just another guy in town until a young man came to me at a potlatch and brought half a fish head,  a very choice part of the salmon. regardless of uncles sam's rules and regs, that boy told me everything i needed to know about my standing in the community.  i may not feel old, and the boy may not know my age.  he saw an opportunity to show respect.  a chance to be proactive and keep his own luck, to be a good, honorable, member of the village.  i went through the same experience as a young man serving elders over the years.  now it's my turn to receive and pass on these traditions.  and somehow in my own way to help our community hold it's luck. to be whole with the universe, the past, and the present.

when i was a young man just starting out i went to an elders meeting in nulato.  introducing myself around the hall, i shook hands and announced my name.  then unexpectedly, an elder asked me who are you?  repeating my name wasn't the answer.  she asked again, who are you?  so i told her my dad is claude sr., mom is martha, uncle is....  finally she says, Oh! i know who you are!  my name was not important.  where i came from was the key.  she knew my parents and knew without doubt that i was member of the village even tho' i did not live there at the time.  that i came from good hard working stock.  implied in her question was the expectation that i would act and behave accordingly. to make my parents and village proud.

nenana is the home of interior regional housing authority's  meda lord senior center.  an independent living facility named after a local elder and long time respected family.  no one here puts their parents in a "home".  most elders live out their final years in the home they've enjoy for years. or live independantly in the meda lord center.  cared by family and watched over by all,  it's clear to me that the golden years are a time to be treasured.  anyone disrepecting an elder in any manner is shunned.  growing old in nenana means you're not alone, and your family is accepted.  the more elders we have, the "richer" we are. evidenced by the many elders at the meda lord center from other villages and cities alike. all living independantly and integral to our community.

respect and caring are the key elements to our community.  a small village we may be, but it is the world to us. where everyone has their place and purpose.  guided by our elders, we hope to pass on this way of living so that our young can feel the same love when their time comes to pass it on.

Monday, March 1, 2010

visiting alaska, maybe nenana?

visitors to Alaska sitting in a warm pressurized jet at 30,000 feet over nenana will see rivers flowing north from the Alaska range connecting with larger rivers all presumably flowing to the sea.  but unless one has  examined our geography it may not be clear which way the rivers flow.
maybe to the uninitiated and those without binoculars the water way down there are long lakes. unlikely since we only get tourists and other visitors smart enough to know the differences between rivers and lakes.  besides anyone on a jet aircraft today with binoculars may get 2nd and 3rd glances.  if you want to see what's happening down there,  you can fly closer to the ground in an Alaskan aircraft workhorse, the piper supercub. so leave your binoculars in your baggage.  stretch out your national geo. map across you and your seat mate's  tray table.  it's only the largest of the fifty states and a single map can be used for a dining room table covering.
it doesn't take a geology or hydrology expert to see the river drainage system and understand how it works.  gavity works very well here in the northland. however many alaskans try to defy it with small light aircraft on balloon type tires.  most of these flyers live long lives telling hair raising stories on how gravity almost got them.  i'm a river pilot so i cannot tell you flying stories here. unless i go and borrow that pretty red and white number tied down and sitting on nenana's paved tarmac and modern asphalt airport.   the local plane owners do not appreciate anyone borrowing their aircraft.  for obvious good reason.  they're keeping an eye on me anyway.  a pilot he says,  have to keep ~him~ on the river.  dang!

you're at 30,000 feet, map stretched across you and neighbor's tray table, wondering if  making more room by finishing your toddy would help.  maybe it does. maybe you don't care anymore.
having crossed the alaska range, you finally see small hills and what appears to be a road through the wilderness.  oh hey.. right there honey.. that's a river and it's draining into a larger river there..but the wing is in the way. good time to squeeze...out to the head and give your seat mate the window.
 wondering how far fairbanks is, and if that's the highway you're to drive and visit this place called nenana. hust when you recognize that it is nenana. the little town where the river, highway, and hills meet, the flight attendant announces the beginning of the descent into the fairbanks area. you have 5 minutes to refold a huge map that is designed never to find it's original creases. the temperature and local time is announced.  brr you might say. meanwhile nenana people run around in shorts and t shirts happy for the summer time and 24 hour daylight. no one paying much attention to what time it is.

a nenana morning sun in the summer comes out of the NE and is very intense. after a long day and evening of work or play one may suddenly realize the obvious to everyone but you! OMG I stayed up all night!  wait,  let me ask someone, "is that sun going down or coming up"?  let's see, where shall we have breakfast?  all the makings are in your new friend's fridge but everyone is tired from staying up all night. So where shall we go for the standard american cholesterol started of eggs, bacon, hash browns?

and it's off to the roughwoods inn we go.  or maybe to clear sky lodge or the fireweed roadhouse. unlikely you'll get much rest today so best to save the mondorosa bar and grill for dinner tonight.
but there is no "night"! if you're hungry and your watch says it's close enough, head out to find your morning and evening chow prepared and served by locals, happy to have one of the few steady jobs in our small town.
but you really should get some tourist sightseeing in before the midnight sun returns and resets your internal clock.  remember you have to make pictures to bring home and show to all your friends. yes~we really went there.  saved money for years for these mosquito bites and evidence photos.
if you have saved for this vacation of a lifetime,  maybe you don't want to waste a moment.  but go ahead. get some sleep anyway. order the dessert, maintain your strength. heck with the diet.  relax..enjoy.
we'll still be here when you wake up asking is it am or pm?
then suddenly you have an epiphany. it no longer matters whether it's morning or evening except for the travel schedule and to those way down south in the lower 48, a-mer'-ca.  still tired?  no worries, can sleep back at 30,000 feet heading home. i understand. of course you can't sleep in a hotel room in the middle of the day, even if the window has  heavy thick curtains designed to separate night and day.  doesn't fool you, it's day time out there, or so your watch says.  confused?  you might have the makings of a sourdough. not the bread, a person whose has settled into making alaska home. beyond the condition of being sour in the country with no dough to get out.
not that you'd like to leave or want to relinquish your newcomer status as a cheechako.  i don't know, maybe becoming a sourdough is a lifelong ambition.  makes no difference to me as a native alaskan and alaska native. very few end up staying on the 1st trip.
say you decide to stay. do not be surprised if your first winter happens to be the coldest one ever. one for the record books. after loosing a couple toes but surviving a frozen truck motor and dead battery, you can't wait to leave. yep, you're almost a sourdough.  careful now, most sourdoughs stay and live long lives telling stories to chechakos arriving with new to do lists.

long before this happens and before your chance to pee in the yukon is realized.   you finally settle into a routine.  Setting  out to explore the village you may be surprised to discover that everyone here seems quite rested.
to double check you peek into the visitor's center at the parks highway junction and the tourist shop just across the street.  you are grateful for these  super friendly people.  but what is that fire danger warning sign doing there?  then comes the  inevitable question, are we in danger?  oh..it's people who are dangerous! which ones? can't make a fire? ok.  but maybe it's just what you've come to alaska to do! along with pee in the yukon, make love to a squaw(derogatory), and kill a bear.  a to do list before mosquitoes carry you off.

your visit to our home is survivable provided you do not confuse any of the items on the list.do not confuse try to peeing in the yukon and wressleing a bear. disrespect  one of our women or anyone else. and our bears will kill you.  that is..if our women don't get to you first.  believe me you don't ever want to cross any of our beautiful native woman.  in nenana or anywhere else.  they're good shots and every home has at least one firearm.  to-do list confused again?  throw the list away. it will only get you in trouble and won't work here no matter how much daylight you need.
try to make love to a bear here and you're on your own buddy. but typical of alaskan hospitality we will remove our hats and pay respect to the bear scat that once was you.

Friday, February 26, 2010

river images from around, near, and far. what we see. maybe not every day but it's here and over there.

these are a few pictures of our tanana river.  Yukon river images also included, since we are all connected to this vast water network of travel, communication, and support. village and city, highway and railroad, white and native, young and old.  the weave of it's sloughs, hidden shotcuts, main channel, and lakes makes the cord binding all of us together that much stronger.
all river photos here courtesy doug sturm unless otherwise indicated.  all rights reserved.  the above is a shot from the upper end of McKinley crossing, a stretch of about 5 miles with 4 major crossings within.  one of the few places that mt. Denali can be seen from the tanana r. on a good day.  definately a tricky spot when there's a couple hundred tons in front of you especially in the fall time low water.  this water looks to be mid to late summer, normal level.

close to nenana this bridge sits on the northern approach to the main river crossing. named after a local woman who became a prominent community activist in nenana, fairbanks, and statewide.  my cousin shirley was taken by cancer before her time.  a much loved and respected native leader.


locally built by ted suckling this race boat, the annual nail, crewed by locals, wes and mary alexander, and yours truly.  won the 800 mile race from fairbanks to galena and return for 5 consecutive years 1990-95.  now on display in nenana's alfred starr cultural center.  was a local favorite making the 800 mile run in 12 hours.  this picture was taken just below nenana by the Fairbanks daily news miner.  on step and hitting about 60 mph  she needs at least 6 inches of water and a steady hand.  stock 50 hp maximum outboard motor hung on a 24', 250 lb. boat, it wants to fly, see air traps along the hull.  can be a tricky job keeping the bow down on turns and with wind gusts. it wants to leave the water.  village race boat construction up and down the river can be a passion. with the yukon 800 as the ultimate test for everyone's craftsmanship and ingenuity. it's a healthy friendly competition in the shop and on the river.

crowley marine is the largest  river freight operation on the river.  here is their flagship the MV tanana resting in dock, while it's 2-300 ton barges are  loaded for it's next trip down the tanana to the yukon.

the tanana with light load, mostly fuel,heading down to the yukon. 8 miles below nenana, one of the few places that denali can be seen from the river.


crowley's rampart.  returning to nenana empty, for another load.  appears to be in a stretch of the river just above squaw point, but it's hard to be certain from this shot.



this unknown tug and barge not ideally suited for interior river navigation is typical of numerous entrepreneurs who get it in their mind that they can come up here to our river system, take equipment best suited for other waters, and make their fortune.  a rude awakening awaits them as they see their dreams fade in the wake of heavy silt, underpowered motors, and confusing channels.  it takes a special breed and equipment to navigate these waters.  yet some still try.  nenana sits across from the base of the hill in the background.  heading up river very slowly, there is still another 25 miles to go.  probably took him 2 days to reach that hill.


the old tolovana road house 65 miles below nenana.  was part of the winter dog team mail route to nome.  this picture was taken before the roadhouse was restored by doug bowers and his wife.  mostly restored now, although such work is never done. the bowers take in guests and give tours of the surrounding area.  this roadhouse played an instrumental role in the 1925 diphtheria serum run to nome as a relay station for dog teams and their drivers.


old cabin about to be recycled. a place called trappers crossing, 20 miles or so above manley hot springs.

my old tug, the MV ramona, landing with a load at the lower end of tanana on the yukon river.  depending on water levels, each community has several slips making freight transfer easier.  two barges here, very light load just for tanana.  quick turn around then back to nenana for another load.  nenana --tanana--and return is 400 miles.  taking 4-5 days depending on water levels, weather, and turn around time.

new load for the ramona heading to village construction sites unknown.  point in the distance is 18 miles below tanana on the yukon.  looks like early fall from the color of the sky and island 

the new ramona in port prepared for a trip to galena. summer '09
 
 c. demientieff photo


early fall ice just staring to run near nenana, '09
c. demientieff photo

more '09 fall ice early in the run
c. demientieff photo

'09 fall beach.  looking up river from the dock to the railroad bridge
c. demientieff photo

one of our many neighbors the village of ruby on the yukon river from the wheel house of my boat, the miss behavin', 2005.  350 miles below nenana.
c.demientieff photos

that's it or now.   i will post more photos in a future blog called around town.  guess i better charge an extra camera battery and head to town, 5 miles from my home. I'll try not to embarrass any one.  but they will get self conscious as i record our village for you.  news travels fast here, and there are few secrets in our little village.  many will be watching, so will do it right and bring you images of daily life here as it's appropriate.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

fur trapping and it's etiquette

i don't see as many people out trapping as i use to. it's much hard work and some are just not good or lucky with it. times have changed to be able to make a living trapping but there's still a need for local material to make the winter gear essential in the north.


seems the few i meet who are trapping are white newcomers. maybe wanting to try this lifestyle. part of the Alaskan experience. i don't know their motivations. nevertheless, having fur stretched and drying in your home is a very attractive activity for those making a life in village Alaska.
because of the need for fur sewing materials i think there will always be a place for trapping in Alaska.


when i was a young man  in my 20's it was one way to make a winter living, feed my family, and keep in tune with the country around me. there was never a dull moment on the homestead.

it wasn't uncommon to have the living room filled with stretchers and skins in various states of care. some with skin side out to dry, others turned with the fur side out to finish. some skins my wife at the time and mother would pick out to keep but most are generally graded, strung together, stored hanging in the porch or cache.

trapping starts in the first part of November and ends last week of February. after which it's time to snare beaver all march. some trap longer but risk rubbed fur, which has lost it's guard hairs. conversely trying to stretch the season by getting an early start has little advantage. it brings you fur that have not developed guard hairs. a good trapper needs a cold fall and winter to have quality fur. an early start might involve breaking the needed trail, setting up a canvas wall tent and stove at the end of your line, and a serious examination of the country intended for harvest. other preparation work may be in order depending on the trapper.

after a 4 month season working a line of 100 martin pole sets, 3 or 4 dozen fox, wolf, wolverine, and lynx house sets. it's time to snare beaver.

the first thing i would do when coming upon a beaver house is to count the number of blankets, medium & super blankets, and little ones in there. important to know so that one can pull the set and avoid over trapping. counting comes mostly from experience and a good understanding of the beaver family. size of the house and feed pile are the only clues needed to get a fairly good count, but if there's any doubt and your luck seems to drop off, then pull the set and leave the house for a year or two. a beaver line could be made up of as few as 2-3 houses close to home for food. or a dozen houses along a 40-50 mile line for fur. it is alot of work spearing good straight holes in the ice, skinning and stretching beaver pelts round and clean. a trapper can spend the entire evening skinning and stretching the prior day's catch.

when traveling and setting a line an active trapper may come upon the trail of another trapper. the proper protocol is to turn around  and go another direction. to the next valley, ridge, or lake. never ever cross another trapper's trail. even if it's just to turn around. crossing another's trail is like standing in someone's face saying "i'm here. whatcha going to do about it?" i'd always know which families trapped what areas, but even if i didn't know who is in the area, i would sometimes stop make a fire and wait if there's enough daylight to get my own work done. try to have a little lunch of tea and salmon strips ready. if no one comes i cut a little more wood to leave  for my neighbor trapper to come along see all my movement, and make his own tea on his next ride through. that way there's no mistake i respected his country and he will not cross my trail. the white people who don't know these things just run over everything, stomp on toes and then go home and complain that someone is in their country, having no clue who's country they were in to begin with. nothing more to say on this matter.

trapping areas are kept by families for many years. i trapped the area around mosquito dome, swinging dome, saddle mountain, american creek, and the head of the iditarod river. all east of holy cross and south of flat. a good area on the divide between the yukon and kuskokwim rivers. an area trapped by my father, his father and grandfather. ocasionally i would come across an old house set for lynx. i would then stop have tea, chew a salmon strip. then make my own house set all the while looking around carefully for old sign on just what my grandpa was doing there exactly. was always happy to find old cuttings and maybe a fire site. good place to pray and be thankful, ask for luck.


twice a year i'd sell my fur. either in aniak or holy cross as the buyer came through on his rounds. several times he landed at my home on reindeer lake on skis. i would have already graded my fur and was ready with all the separate piles on a blanket on the living room floor. he would go through with his own grading. small, medium, large, dark, light, rubbed. eventually piles of fur would move back and forth as we agreed on a price. i knew what i wanted long before the buyer arrived. knowing from others the average market price. he landed his airplane, and now couldn't leave without fur.  i knew i had him as soon as the skis touched down.  he's loosing money if he takes off without fur. years later he told me he stopped for the food.
pushing notes across the table we eventually arrived at a price, might take a beaver or moose roast from mom. during my time a large dark martin would average $45-$60 each. a beaver super blanket might average $80, small $50. on a good season the total take might be $5,000. not much after paying for gas and supplies. but enough to raise a family. bring home food. and occasionally there's enough to fly one of us to aniak, bethel, or anchorage for a modest shopping spree for fresh vegetables and other treats.

i don't do these things anymore, primarily due to my brain injury. but also because fashions and prices have changed. people don't seem to know how to trap on a large scale anymore.  if i could, i would today be satisfied with a few dozen sets stretched across the lakes and countryside from my home to the head of the wood river, a 100 mile round trip is all i would need now. take an easy day to check and work. times have changed and this is good.  i'm positive  my old trapping country near reindeerlake is now restocked and as vibrant as it was during the time of my dad and his grandpa.
my traps still hang in bundles there today waiting for my return at key points in valleys and on ridges. now to be found by future trappers..maybe. some day i will talk with my kids and grandson with a map and show them exactly where the trail is and how to find the bundles hanging in the spruce. my blazes and marks were laid down to confuse any outsiders. but i'll tell the family how it works when the time is right. a little treasure map of sorts.

while working the line it's not uncommon to catch an occasional camp robber (grey jay) or squirrel. this is not good, except for bait. some times a weasel with a black tip tail is caught. although it causes your set to stop working for other larger animals, it is a sign of good luck and mom loved  keeping these.  eventually saving enough to make a hat or mittens for a child.  i'd come around the corner and there would sometimes be a weasel hanging from my pole set.  oh' i'd say, another one for mom!  rest of the line will be good.  more often than not, that day was always a good run.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

spring, another change of season..the spice of life in the northland

whether it's spring or fall. changes in our weather bring a host of activities to the north land. spring is my favorite season.
but i can't really pick one.
the imminent season seems to always be my favorite. change being the common denominator, eagerness is the energy
i look forward to calling geese, 24 hours of daylight, making a fire in my yard,
an open door on a warm afternoon  the with a hot wood stove allowing the sweet smell of thawing sawdust to come in and remove the stuffy winter. and yes even those pesky mosquitoes join the party. it doesn't matter, besides the first ones are stupid anyway.

however i equally look forward to fall moose camp, hanging meat, signs of bears dening up, and lumbering RV's leaving our roads.

spring means icles growing on the eaves,

a crust on the morning snow,

winter birds active and plentiful,

dog racing teams testing their winter long training on the most difficult races in the world,

village families working in their yards cleaning and getting the BBQ and fire-pits ready for the first warm evening.

men working on their river boats and motors in anticipation of breakup.

our village swells with pride for the high school basketball team, hosting visiting teams from other villages. enthusiastically renewing a friendly competitive home spirit. years from now those same young men and woman "squeaking" up and down the court will recall as adults the nenana invitational tournament, who won & lost, where they stayed, and what a good time they had. surprised to discover," oh you were there too?"

and spring is an opportunity for everyone state wide to gamble on nenana.
this tower  will be attached by a line to a tripod on the river ice.  all designed to trip a clock recording the hour and minute the ice moves out.
many people state-wide will buy a chance to guess the date, hour, and minute the ice will go out on the tanana river.  the winner(s) take home a pot that's consistently around $300,000.  begun in  1917 by  alaska railroad works o pass time. the nenana ice classic has become an Alaskan icon and signals the unofficial start for the summer season.
 with the ice gone, people can travel easily between villages. the first boat ride is a time to check the ice damage from breakup. to find how the channel has moved. sandbars disappear and reappear below the next bend or stretch. a good time to update your mental files, reboot the brain and prepared for the work and heat of summer.

spring also means excitement and celebration. Fairbanks, a short 50 miles or one hour north of nenana, hosts the north American world championship dog races, a 60 mile, 3 day sprint can be very exciting especially as the warm spring weather becomes a player affecting dogs and trail.

this is also proxy season for the annual meeting of the for-profit doyon,limited. coincides with the native non-profit, the tanana chiefs conference full board meeting. many nenana people travel to take in these events. not unlike a major social event of the year. lots of village people travel. conferences/carnival being a good opportunity to see family and friends after a long winter.

the woods too become more active. the winter birds flock and make their rounds together. little tidbits of food start to show through melting snow, long lost evidence of the past winter gatherings. once puffed up and protected against the cold, they are slim and trim. warmed by a bright low spring sun as they fly without their parkas.

soon much larger birds will come here. once there's water along the river. the ice and snow gives way to patches of ground. i eagerly await for the last big major snow storm of spring. this is the signal and weather upon which geese and cranes arrive in huge bands, calling and circling. descending to the bounty that is our homeland.


frogs will wake up when water starts building in the lake. they will without delay start to sing to their sweetheart all night long. meanwhile cranes will follow the swans. the first to arrive, swans are also the last to leave in the fall. each patch of water, beach, or grass will host flocks of birds dancing, eating, and singing for their love. happy days.

the first batch of mosquitoes is a huge lumbering aggressive nuisance, bringing times of plenty for small birds and frogs. everyone and everything has it's place in our home. caring for this place is the gift we give our children. our spring is a renewal of life and a promise of better times to come. we borrow this homeland from our children.

so what can i say about our spring season? it's one of my favorites till the midnight sun arrives. home sweet home.