Tolovana II - The cold strikes back

A little late this post, but here we go.. Tolovana Hot Springs is a favourite winter/spring weekend trip for outdoorsy Fairbanksans. I did it a year ago when Lise has soaking up rays and sipping on Chardonnay in Breaker Bay, and loved it. A few days after getting back from Vancouver, we were on the road.

The 105 mile drive on hilly, icy, bumpy roads is just long enough that you unfortunately need to pee at what must be the most exposed and windy pull-out in all of the interior. Lise and I chose to snow-shoe the 11 miles each way rather than (x-country) ski as some of the hills are a little sketchy especially in the twilight with full backpacks. A week after a slid, skidded, and face-planted down the steep first downhill last year, a poor chap went one better by breaking his femur. Thankfully the Japanese travelers he was with were able to drag him up the hill, plonk him into a car and drive him in town. So snow shoes it was. And while some of our group skied ahead, and Tim zipped through on his snow machine, we plodded along in 30 below. Once moving and in the absence of any wind to speak of it was actually quite comfortable and enjoyable.

Guy Dubuis on his skis.

We spent a neat two nights in the rental cabins rading books, eating chocolate and working our way through the keg. Occasionally we'd dash out to the hot spring in the evenings too. Two dogs and 12 people is a lot to fit in one cabin during the day, but thankfully four of us slept in another smaller cabin and it was quite comfy. At those temps, cutting the wood for the stove is easy - the spruce is so brittle that its almost a no-contest chopping kindling.

Sunday morning dawned, at about 10:30, and we staged our staggered start to hopefully all arive at the cars at about the same time. The cars! I hope the little red subie will start after two nights out in - 35 C ! Normally we plug in the car overnight if its below about -10C, to power heating pads for the battery, engine block and oil pan, so I was pretty nervous on the way out. At some point I had enough of the snow shoe plotting so decided to open up the throttle and try to get some endorphins pumping. The Dukes of Hazard narrator would at this point make some forboding comment about the idiocy of this option: You see, I failed to think too much about generating so much body heat that I'd need to strip down to no hat, only polypro gloves, and a single icebreaker layer unzipped. That would be fine if it weren't 35 below, and although I didn't know it at the time, it would be 2 full weeks before I got full feeling back in several fingers, and that followed only after losing a good layer or two of skin of all fingers and my ear lobes. Live and learn.

Guy's best Gandalf impersonation!


Lisa on arrival at the cars.

Anyway, my car anxiety proved to be well founded. Feeling justified in this conern provided little comfort as, over the next hour we tried to start our car and one other. Jeremy's car finally fired up after jumping the battery, and using a long-handled shovel to slid a burning pile of bbq brickettes under the oil pan. At those temperatures, the oil is just so viscous that the engine can't turn over. Not wanting to melt the bank's investment, we ultimately ended up splitting our gear and selfs into the other cars and abandonning the subie for another night alone.

Operation car-recovery was staged the next day. I picked up a new battery and borrowed a 1000 W generator and a fuel-powered 'space heater' (ie. hot air cannon for heating construction sites) and Lise and I got a (2.5 hour) ride out with Jeremy. After about 45 minutes of blowing hot air under the car and a new battery, she finally fired up to much relief! (The varsity back four have never seen me as dark as I was before then.) We stopped at the Hill Top for the fries that I couldn't bring myself to eat the previous evening and got back into town in one piece.

Car resuscitation.

Moral of the story: we are tiny warm units in a very big, very cold, very unforgiving environment. And next time, take a baking tray to go between a camp stove and the oil pan, or better yet, take someone else's car ;)

More trip photos at: Heike's picasa pages

Cabin-fever Christmas and Van-Kiwi New Year

It was really great that some of you guys are better than me at sending xmas presents with enough time to actually arrive on time! Thanks for your emails, cards and pressies. It was great to call home and talk to some of you too. All the best for a Happy New Year!

We had a (finally, thankfully) relaxing xmas morning at home, went for a walk in the snow and midday light before hosting a mid-afternoon xmas dinner in our cabin. Thankfully our friend Adia was on hand to provide the appropriate finishing touches including xmas tree, wreath, cookies and a delicious chocolate yule-time log - thanks Mrs. Christmas!

We also re-established that Trivial Pursuits is not the best game to bring everyone together and have fun: 'Your team got so much easier questions than we did' etc.. Our bad there!

We spent a wonderful week in Vancouver over New Year's. More to come on that from Lise..

California driveby

Long time, no update. December was silly season for sure, as Lise worked through to Dec 23 at the Elementary School she's training in. She was very happy to turn in her last assignment too! Many of the kids gave her xmas presents. It's easy to be judgemental about how commercial the 'Holiday Season' is in the US, but when it comes to kids and parents making and buying personalized gifts for student teacher in their class, you can see how the opportunity to manufacture that commercialism: it really is nice to give and receive those kinds of gifts!

I had a conference in San Francisco mid-December, and was crazy-busy before and during that. I firstd flew into LA and spent a weekend in LA visiting my good friends from Cornell, Alex, Steve and Etienne who are now at CalTech and JPL in Pasadena. Alex was a great host, from picking me up at LAX with a thermos of coffee to talking the talk (and greasing the palm of) the bouncer at the Red Buddha bar in Hollywood so Steve could get in with no ID. Whistletop tour included Santa Monica boardwalk (including punters in open-air poser gym and street rappers hawking their CD's), Saturday night out at a couple of bars in Hollywood (actually more low-key and Wellyington-like that I anticipated) and checking out the Norton Simon fine art Gallery in Pasadena (thousand-year-old buddhas to Van Gogh originals).

The conference was very busy but successful and beneficial. It was a great chance to catch up on friends at other institutes and enjoy some of SF's nice restaurants and late-night shopping. (Photo on left is looking down Powell St, one of the cable-car routes.) One conference highlight was being one of about 700 who attended an hour-long address by Al Gore. I haven't seen his movie or read his book, but know of them. He was certainly a very polished but relaxed presenter with a great sense of humour, and is clearly passionate and seeks to be well-informed about the environment. The obvious thing to wonder is how the state of the world would have been different if he'd bean elected President ahead of inglorious-George in 2000...

Otherwise, back in Squarebanks, the snow was still playing hard to get and we'd been limited to a few sessions only on the ski trails at school.

First white sights of winter

Winter has arrived now, sneaking in a little later than expected but here for sure now. It dumped snow on Saturday night and as the ground was already frozen, that snow will probably be the last to melt in April.

Driving has been a bit treacherous, with loose powder on ice, but hopefully the worst has passed. In the winter its so cold and dry that the friction is quite good on the dry snow. At least when they spray gravel and salt around the place. The 15 minute zip to work has been taking 25, and we've passed several cars and pick ups that had sliden off the road. So far so good, but the car is now again stocked with windchild scraper, extension cord for plugging in the engine heaters, tow rope, gravel, sleeping bag and blanket and a bag of spare warm clothes. Fingers crossed there will be no need for that!

One great thing about the snow is that it makes the tracks of all the animals visible. We've had a little moose in the lower drive way after apparently having crossed right around our front deck. A hare has been out there too; they're nice and white now. Some of the mystery the other tracks was resolved a couple of nights ago. I heard rummaging in the pantry at 1am and expected that a squirrel had gotten in through the boarding somewhere. Steeled for whatever it was, I flung upon then door and was greeted by an ermine, standing up next to the rubbish, and looking back at me with his head cocked. So cute! Lisa was less enamored with him, especially after he ran back up inside the wall and poked and then up behind the head board of the bed in the loft! He's since nibbled the peanut butter off a mouse trap. Our landlord Holland has said you need bloody meat in a trap - he'll hook us up on Saturday he says. Kind of sad to go after them, they're cute and just looking for some place warm, but they eat the insulation too. (And apparently they make for quite nice little purses or key chain accessories.) He was standing up just like this little guy on the left.

Last Sunday's plans were to go ice climbing, but the wrong weather mix in recent weeks meant no ice was 'in'. Instead, we went to a 'harvest meal' at the house of our friends Pat and Adia. The harvested contributions included cranberries and blueberries (disguised in various cakes), halibut nuggets, moose meatballs and moose liver pate! We then all set about carving up our pumpkins in preparation for Halloween. Our one is the silhouetted bat. Spooky, huh - woooo..

Well, that's about it for now. We've both been pretty busy with work and classes etc. It would be nice to get outside more during the week, but hopefully a little more snow will see us on the trails at lunch time and after work. Ciao.

Summertime citrus deficit

Somehow, I never quite got out to Grapefruit Rocks enough this summer. The separated shoulder didn't help, of course. The pick of the days up there was when Frank, Adam and I made it up to falcon rock one night after work in early June. We climbed until 11pm and could have stayed longer. As it was, I was wiped out the next day after an extended day of fieldwork following the am flight to Barrow. Ouff.

Good skiing and climbing buddies Adam and Frank; me trying to trust the crust on 'Larry's Project'; Adam milking a rest and busting though on 'Overhang Direct'.

Each time I get out there, its a little better than I think it will be. Frank did too good a job of lowering my expectations! Its about one hour from our place when there's no traffic, plus a 5-30 minute hike to the different outcrops.

Lise and I spent a great sunday morning out there two weeks ago. We'd been invited to lunch with the 4th grade teachers from U. Park Elementary (Lisa's placement school), so we did a morning mission, leaving home before 7 am and getting in about 5 pitches each before making it back to town at 1 pm.

And so as the fall rolls on, it seems like only yesterday that I first went out there with Frank and Tom. The seasonal changes are so pronounced that it makes it seem like the seasons come and go so quickly. Everyone is already writing off Fall and talking about skiing, which will probably be only about a month away. The squirrels outside are all stashing nuts for the winter. The Equinox run is next weekend. Hopefully there's stil time for a bit more climbing before the skis and tights come out though!

Chickaloon Climbing Trip, Labor Day

We again took advantage of a long weekend to make a trip south, this time to go climbing at a place called Chickaloon, about 90 miles north of Anchorage on the Glen Highway. Tom was paving in Denali, so I picked him up on the way through on Thursday night. We got in late and ended up sleeping in a pull-out right under the crag. 18 wheeler diesels are loud.

A great field of boulders lies 2 minutes off the road, halfway to the crag (Weiner Lake aka Wookie Wall). After a quick tour of the best bouldering lines we rolled up to the crag. As we finished a short warm up we were joined by a few locals, including main developer Paul Turecki. We spent a chilled-out afternoon up there climbing and chatting with those guys. Tom had two routes in mind from a previous trip, and wasn't about to let sleep deprivation and weeks of non-stop paving slow him down. After a couple red bulls and a mid afternoon under-the-route nap he sent 'Illuminati 5.13a' fourth shot. I spent some time working out the bottom of the "must-do local classic" next to it, and we called it good, retiring to the free camping spot on the river behind the real slice of Americana that is the Chickaloon bar.

Lisa and Lalida got in about midnight. It had already started raining and didn't let up until about midday Saturday. By that time we'd rolled down to the greasy spoon in Jonestown for a real breakfast of king-sized pancakes, hashbrowns and eggs. The overhanging headwall protected many of the Weiner Lake routes and we spent the afternoon climbing. Late in the evening I went to my happy place after fighting to onsight a superb 100 ft 5.11 (22/23).

Camping on the river, Tom, Rob and Lupin, Lalida and Lise; view from Purinton Creek crag; Tom up at the Wookie Wall; Lalida at Purinton.

On Saturday night we had a few beers and a late pasta dinner with local climber, all around good guy and Tom's friend, Carl, and road-tripping Rob and his beautiful Siberian Husky 'Lupin' on their way home to Canada after a summer of fishing off the Kenai. Sunday morning we all climbed a mile up the road at Purinton Creek. Tom and I took off back to Weiner and Lalida gave Lise some crack-climbing coaching. They rocked back to Weiner in time to hear me screaming my way up my project - pAAH!! Tom put on the real show though, when he sent the local 5.13c (30) test piece, second day. Very impressive. The ladies drove home early Monday, and I managed to link up 'Breaking the Chains' 5.12b second go, which Tom repeated, to cap off a very successful and enjoyable 4 days climbing.

What a place! This is surely the best sport climbing spot in Alaska: a huge cliff of compact rhyolite, maybe 1 km long, 100 m tall and gently overhanging at the base; free camping on the river, spectacular scenery, and plenty of well bolted routes in the 5.11 - 5.13+ range. Too bad its not closer to Fairbanks, but next summer I'll be back!

Looking across Weiner Lake from the crag; walk in through the fall colours.

Fall is in full effect now. The colours in the beautiful Matanuska Valley were great.Driving the Parks was equally spectacular; this has to be one of the most enjoyable 300 miles to drive anywhere. Tom's stories and music help too though! The final treat was that Denali was out. Absolutely enormous.

Kenai Peninsula Trip

Our schedules finally lined up enough to enjoy a trip to the Alaskan riviera, just in time before it freezes over ;) We took a week off and travelled to Homer, at the base of the Kenai peninsula near Anchorage. It was really great to stop in Anchorage each way, and stay with our friends Jeremy and Laurelyn, and their two cute kids Brooks and Kai. After entertaining these two, we travelled through to Whittier - via the cool one way tunnel.

Kai and Brooks at home in Anchorage; Lisa in a cove out of Whitier; glacier on the Whitier side of the tunnel.

We then travelled throughand via the Sterling Highway down the center of the Kenai. This is a major 'combat fishing' zone: that's actaully the term used when these guys pack the banks of the Russian and Kenai Rivers to haul in the migrating Salmon. The bears then line up to haul in the fishermen! We spent a night at Ninikchik, with its cute old village harking back to the days of Russian settlement and control of Alaska. The tides were super-low, and the clammers out digging up their quarry the next morning.

Lisa expressing herself Japanese styles on Bishop Beach, Homer; Redoubt Volcano from Ninilchik; Grewingk Glacier, Kachemak Bay N.P.; unidentified Alaskan wildflower, Grewingk beach.

Then on to Homer, a quaint fishing/tourism town famous for the halibut - delicious deep sea flounder-like fish that can grow to more than 150 kg - fished out of the surrounding Kachemak Bay. We skipped the chartered fishing, and took a 24 hour kayak rental in Kachemak Bay National Park, a 30 minute water taxi ride across the bay.

And what a great 24 hours, thanks to meeting some super friendly locals camping on the same beach that we were dropped at. Lee had biked around NZ in the late 70's, and his daughter Chrissy had also been out to visit an aunt living in Milton. Lise and I met up with them after first getting in the short hike up to the very picturesque Grewingk Glacier Lake.

Paddling in Halibut Cove; black bear yearlings; with (L to R) Geneva, Vicky, Lee, Chrissie at 'The Saltry'; low tide in Halibut Cove.

The 8+ metre tides added an extra dimension to the paddling. We rode a white water 'river' into Halibut Lagoon: the narrow channel into this wide lagoon has quite a flow at mid-tide. After a little exploration, we found the others at the main dock, hanging out and waiting for the tide to turn and make leaving the lagoon possible. On the paddle out we saw porpoises and an otter, and were convinved to follow the others to a restaurant in nearby Halibut Cove. Lee, the local book shop owner, proved a great tour guide and filled us in on the local geology and birdlife. W even spotted two black bear yearlings, and paddled to within about 30 metres of them - very cool! The Saltry was a fabulous restaurant - beautifully situated and decorated - and it was really nice to share a delicious meal with great company. The kayak portage and paddle home back to the campsite burned off at least the dessert and beer!

It poured overnight, and we spent the last day drying out, having a diner brunch, visiting Lee's bookstore, and driving back to Anchorage. Saturday morning, Jeremy flew out for more fieldwork, and the rest of us checked out some running salmon. During the long haul back to Fairbanks, I could almost feel the land wrapping in behind us as we drove further into the interior. No doubt, it was great to have been back by the sea, and to have had a relaxing break exploring the 'tourist' Alaska. But the trip was really made by all the friendly, relaxed, generous people we met the whole way - catching up with friends, and making new ones.

Purdue Summer School

aka 'nerd camp', ha ha. onto this one soon.

Hatcher Pass, Independence Day

With Independence Day falling on a Tuesday, we seized the opportunity of a four-day weekend to get out of town. We made the trek down to Hatcher Pass, an alpine area about 100 miles north of Anchorage with friends Frank, Lalida and Tom. The 6.5 hour drive was a little rough - particulalry the bumpy but beautiful unsealed 'short cut' that we inadvertently took - but we were rewarded with great scenery, unusally good weather, good granite bouldering and cragging and plenty of wildlife.

Lise and Lalida up on a taus field; black bear ambling along water pipe; curious ground squirrel; typical low-lying Hatcher Pass scenery.

The roadside pullout/parking lot/campground had about 6 Subarus, 3 Toyota trucks, 12 people and 6 dogs - fairly standard ratios there! Lots more folks came in on the 4th for day hikes and strolling around the alpine meadows and valleys. Although we had appropropriately driven up past Indepenence State Mine on the way in, there wasn't too much ado on the 4th of July apart from Tom doing his best to help Lisa along with the correct pronunciation of Palmer (Pahl-merr not Pahr-mah!). The beer lovin' trad climbin' locals let off bottle rockets, but we only heard them - the whole visual effect of fireworks is kind of lost when its easily bright enough to still be climbing at midnight!

Tom, Lise and Lalida lounging roadside; Tom cleaning a new line; Sarah, Tom and Garvie; Frank, Lalida and Tom hiking out from the boulder field.

The climbing was great fun, notwithstanding the finger damage sharp granite can do. We met up with ex-Fairbanksan Sarah Mosco, now living nearby, and she joined us on the boulders one day. With incredible potential for bouldering as well as trad climbing on good rock, its a crying shame that this isn't closer than a 13 hour round-trip from Fairbanks!

Denali Bike Ride

A week before summer solstice, we traveled to Denali (National Park & Preserve) to bike the access road with three friends from UAF, Martin, Sveta, and Tanja. Two of Martin's friends on holiday from Austria met us down there. The access road is 85 miles (135 km) long, from park HQ to Wonder Lake, which is often used as a photographic mirror for Mt. McKinley.

Most all Alaskans refer to Mt. McKinley by its Athabascan name, Denali, which means 'the great one'. At 20,320 ft, or over 6000m it's the tallest peak in North America, and one of the '7 summits'. It was shrouded in clouds on this trip, but Martin had previously flown us around it last April on a perfectly clear night giving us incredible views of the mountain and the entire Alaska Range.

The bus ride out to Wonder Lake took 6 hours due to the bumpy road with two way bus traffic, and the frequent stops to view wildlife and to cater for the bathroom needs of a largely aging tourist demographic. We spotted 2 grizzly mothers with cubs, but far from the bus; Martin, Tanja and Sveta were treated to one ambling up to within a meter of their bus before taking two steps into the bushes and disappearing from sight - two steps!

The ride out was,an adventure. It was long (13 hours on the go, 12 in the saddle) and on bumpy, hilly dirt roads the whole way. A thunderstorm cooled things down to about 10 C (50 F) and provided a good couple of hours of rain (and the surfacing of Mr. Happy).

Letting a bus through early on; Lise with Dall sheep horns at a info center; Mr. Happy; stunning countryside.

The views were incredible though, as was the wildlife. We saw a young moose amble up and diagonal across the road with a watchful eye on us, a coyote raiding gulls' nests, very many ptarmigans (AK state bird), ground squirrels, young hares and lake water birds. We were very lucky to see a large herd of caribou, and there were Dall sheep at the higher passes.

Dan and Tanja; Dall ram; two caribou on ridgeline; bear country!

Easing through the night. Tanja and Lise are enjoying our mid-point break at midnight. We woke u the Dall sheep asleep on the road side here at Polychrome pass.

Helped no end by Martin's seeingly inexhaustible supply of Lindt chocolate, we battled through the night to arrive at our pick up point (70 mile mark) at 5:30am. I was savaged by the sleep monster but somehow Lise and Tanja kept each other awake for a safe trip home.

Last Barrow Trip

The last trip to Barrow was timed perfectly. Last measurements were made and our equipment extracted just before the onset of a lot of surface snow melt that would have complicated snow machine travel and access to our site as well as interfering with the measurements.

The landfast ice has been very consolidated and stayed in a long time this year. Usually wind and ocean currents would have broken this ice into smaller pieces by now, allowing it to more away from shore and opening up leads (open water in the ice pack) so important for whaling. It was a terrible spring whaling season - only 3 whales from a quota of 22 strikes and 20 landings. It was the talk of the town. They'll wait now for fall whaling - hunting from boats in more open water - and pray for enough whales to see them through the winter.

We took a reccie out to the ice rubble zone, where stresses crumble the ice up and older ice is sometimes caught up in the first-year ice just grown in the last winter. I love this picture of Hajo and Matt Druckenmiller up on a huge block.

The water is a melt pond - the sun has melted snow on the ice surface but the water can't drain through the ice. As the ice warms up closer to its bulk melting point (-1.8 C) the ice actually does become porous enough to allow drainage - and this change in 'permeability' of the ice is what my work looks at.

One evening we also went 'birding' aka bird spotting. Hajo got super excited when he thought he'd seen some puffins, but it turns out they were more likely spectacles eiders (as in the ducks that give their name to eider-down). We did see tundra - and trumpeteer- swans, phalaropes, loons, snipes, different types of jaegers, and the local favourite, Steller's eider. Too bad we didn't see any snowy owls though.

We had a warm spell too - so now I've experienced -56 F and + 54 F up here (-49 to +12 C).

The on-ice equipment worked well this year, and preliminary results from the measurements with Malcolm Ingham from VUW look promising too. So all up, a good field year. I'll probably be back up in November.

May Update

Well, it's all turned from white to brown to super-green in May. The leaves took about 2 days to go from buds to being fully leafed out. What have we been up to now that there's no skiing and trips outside with the sole purpose of reporting terribly cold temperatures?
Highlights have included:

• Lisa finshing 1st semester classes and starting education classes proper, and
  
• getting a great hair cut from a crazy Colombian her told her she should grow it long at the front to cover her face when she's old (wtf?)
• attended the wedding of good friends Frank and Lalida (and witnessing just how bright it is at 3am when you're hammered and just want it to be dark so you can sleep..)
  
• making a day hike in Denali Park and seeing moose, ground squirrel, squirrels and Dall sheep
• Dan managing to go climbing a couple of times (closely followed by ice and ibuprofen)
  
• doing the 'two-way torture test', a two person race where we each ran a 1/2 marathon in a different direction of an up and down loop. Aptly named.
• getting involved in a big Cancer fundraiser - thanks a lot for all of you who've contributed!
• hosting a BBQ up at our place.
• two young grizzly bears rolling into town and hanging out at the golf course (!) one has been shot for getting into someone's yard.
  

Lisa has been running a lot actually, and is really looking forward to the Equinox Marathon in September. Dan's looking forward to one last trip to Barrow to tie up this season's fieldwork. with such big changes between seasons squuzed into the same 12 months, everything seems to change and happen so quickly. Summer is now on us, and we hope to really enjoy it.

Barrow in April

I'm now back up in Barrow for fieldwork, this time with Hajo Eicken (my boss), and Malcolm Ingham from Victoria University of Wellington. Malcolm is a physics professor at VUW who uses electro-magnetic methods to study the earth's subsurface. In Barrow, we're testing a new method to measure the connectivity of the brine inclusions in sea ice. If successful, this will enable us to make fully-automated measurements of the state of the ice in places like the McMurdo Sound runway in Antarctica.

Back in January, when Pat Cotter and I installed our wireless mass balance site, we also installed two strings of electrodes for Malcolm's experiments. The ice has since grown thicker - growing past the electrodes previously hanging down into the water. Each string has 19 electrodes spaced 10 cm apart. In the measurements, we inject an electrical current between two electrodes, one in each string, and then measure the voltage drop between two other electrodes. With 19 electrodes in each string, there are very many different possible combinations. We don't use all of them, just enough to get a clear image of the electrical resistivity of the ice between the two strings. This profile is related to the salt content of the ice, and how well-connected the salty brine inclusions are.

So far, so good: we've made one successful set of measurements, we've only seen prints but no bears, and Malcolm has had his first blast driving a snow machine. We'll also make measurements later in the season, when these measurements should be sensitive to rapid changes expected with warming above -5 C.
Here's Malcolm making measurements with field support officer Scott Oyagak looking on (and for bears!)

Hajo (left) cutting an ice core for salinity measurements to compare with the electrical measurements.

Colorado Creek Cabin Trip

Here are some pics from our trip into Colorado Creek Cabin in the White Mountains near Fairbanks. Our group included a 6-dog mushing team, a ski-jorer (she skied with some help from her dog pulling her along via a harness) and three of us on skis. Incredible northern lights, which my poor quality, hand-held long (10 second) exposure shots do no justice. I'll leave at this at the moment, so Lisa can write this one up...

I had heard plenty about cabin trips into the nearby White Mountains since I visited last time, and I was eager to get out there! We were invited along to a weekend long trip on a gradually uphill ski into the hut, and thus gentle descent out. It was a 50km round trip ski that took us around 10 hours all up, with temperatures around -20C and a windchill. It was *cold* and we kept moving. Thankfully we arrived to a warm cabin and some warm soup that the mushers had prepared for us, and we could check out our surrounds, chop logs for firewood and relax. Being so cold and clear it was a spectacular night for the aurora to show her splendour. This is one of the real bonuses to having an out house...throughout the evening people rugged up to do their business and hollered in reporting the aurora's movements. First striking green and dancing like a rainbow over head, and then a hour later, a massive array of green 'curtains' (it really does look like curtains in the breeze) with a strong line of dancing pink beneath, covering most of the sky. It's pretty rare to see such a colourful display even here, so I was delighted. The cold day and wind were worth it. Dan diligently lay down in the snow to get these photos, using his chest in lieu of a tripod...circumstances considering, they're excellent shots.

A great meal and evening of yarns ensued, as we learned about dog mushing, this activity that possesses so many Alaskans. Being out in the big spaces like this, with miles and miles of land ahead, and being able to explore that space with dogs who happily and hastily run through the woods, is what draws a lot of people to it. I went mushing over spring break and the sense of a team and solitude all at once is quite remarkable. The dogs slept outside in little nests they made for themselves, awake and ready to run again at dawn.

An amazing first cabin trip!

McGinnis - First Alaskan Peak

A week before I turned the ripe old age of 31, I got down to the Alaska Range and climbed my first Alaskan Peak - the modest McGinnis Peak. The trip was run through the Alaska Alpine Club and led by my good mate Frank. When we left Fiarbanks at a lesurely 7am it was bloody cold (-30 C) but down past Delta Junction it was warmer and as clear a day as you could imagine. In fact we saw no trace of a cloud in two days. We skied in 7 miles (11 km) up a creek and Glacier for about 5 hours and set up camp at the base of the scenic Rainbow Ridge.

Frank, me and Tom from the Czech Republic took off and climbing McGinnis in the twilight - a two hour round trip up a ridge left of the big bowl in the picture below (that peak is not McGinnis). It was about 75 minutes up a reasonably steep ridge involving some steep sections of front pointing. It felt great but I was knackered after the ski in. Enthusiasm and thoughts of Lisa spewing on the coast to coast but keeping on keeping on, help me to the top. A modest achievement but a fantastic view and great feeling. We climbed back down first under moonlight and then with head lamps, carefully picking our way down some sections face into the slope.


The caffeinated power gels and suagry snacks that had fuelled the ascent kept me awake far too long through the night. After about 4 hours sleep I was up at 6:30am to cook breakfast, or at least to get cold fumbling around with brittle matches and lighters which were too cold to light. The whole group of 12 then climbed the same route. It was much easier the second time around, even after little sleep, partly because steps were cut into the steep sections, but also because it wasn't into the unknown and dark!

The ski out was bloody hairy - a big pack on and down crazy hard-packed and windblown sustrugi snow on the glacier. Looking back, one of the 2 big full face plants must have been when I sprung my ac shoulder joint. The creek section was smoother sailing though, and we were back at Delta having a beer and burger by about 6pm. A great trip, and hopefuly the first of many such missions. Big ups to Frank for lending me so much gear and for leading the trip.

White Spring

Following the Fairbanks winter first comes 'white spring', then 'brown spring' (when everything melts) and finally 'green spring'. March 1 has come and gone - the northern hemisphere equivalent of 1 September - but there are certainly no daffodils or lambs in sight! However it is warming up, and the daylight hours are increasing about 5 minutes a day. White spring is the time to get out and enjoy the Alaskan wilderness with less concern about either horrific cold or bears!

We took part in a little ski tour last Sunday. We drive about 90 km from town and skied an out and back trail along the North Chena river for about 4 hours, including stops. Here we are during lunch break.
Accouting for Frank behind the camera, there were 4/6 beards. Lisa is sporting a new hat - won the previous day at the UAF trails day. She rocked up for some extra skate-skiing lessons, the 2 km classic ski race at the end of the day. Hey, first out of two is still first, especially when you win a hat, t-shirt, drink bottle, and $10 gift voucher!

So this little trip was really neat. I'm so glad that Lise and I have both picked up xc skiing quickly enough, and indeed enjoy it enough, to make these kinds of trips possible and fun. Skiing gives you access to these pretty remote places with minimal disturbance. When you stopped to pause in that vast wilderness, you could really get a sense for the enormity of the open spaces up here. Just snow sloughing off branches, and a few birds chirping to break the silence. Plenty of tracks about the place too, from moose wading through metre-deep snow to squirrels only punching through the crust about half a centimetre. Plenty more trips to come I hope!

For Gareth and Simone

Lisa and I are really very sorry that we can't be there today to join with you all in celebrating and sharing this occasion with Gareth and Simone. I'm sure I can trust the likes of Jase, Trev, Hutch and Dad to tell plenty of stories, so I'll shoot straight from the heart.

Gareth - I have always admired, and in fact envied, what I see as two distinct aspects of what makes you special. You've always been very comfortable meeting, mingling, and usually sharing a beer with people from all walks of life in all kinds of situations, in a natural and relaxed way. Its that ease that makes you such a natural and so good at your job - and a guy who's well known and well liked in the community.

But I'm sure that most all of you here this evening agree with me when I say that for those close to you, you're much more than the easy casual friend you are to so many people. While you make new contacts easily, you keep old friends very well: because you're straight up, loyal, giving and caring and stand by them. These attributes are golden.

So I think you've done well, Simone, but Gareth, or course, has done equally well in finding you. You are bright, bubbly, loving and have had an incredible impact on Gareth. Lisa and I are look forward to spending more time with you in the years to come. I can't wait to see the wedding pictures, I'm sure you must both look great, and be beaming.

So all the way from Alaska, Lisa and I wish would like to propose another toast - I'm sure none of you mind another drink! - To many fun-filled years together that are rich in experience and happiness; to Gareth and Simone!

Fieldwork in Barrow

Barrow is the northern most town in the US. Fifty years ago Barrow was a sleepy town whose inhabitants were largely native Inupiaq people leading a still quite subsistent lifestyle. The area was opened up after the discovery of Arctic oil in the 1960's and the cold war brought a strong Navy presence. The Navy Arctic Research Laboratory (NARL) has now closed, but logistic support for the increasing number of scientists who come to Barrow to study high-lattitude processes, particularly those related to climate change, is now a large industry here.

View South-west from the top of the Bank building in Barrow in late January.

Our work on sea ice is supported by the Barrow Arctic Science consortium (BASC). Pat Cotter and I were up earlier in the season than is usual for our group, and were greated by - 35 C temperatures and about 5 hours of workable daylight.

As part of the developmental phase of the Arctic Ocean Observing System (AOOS) we were installing a collection of instruments called a 'mass balance site'. Instruments included thermistor strings to measure the temperature profile through the sea ice as well as the water below and snow and air above, and 'hydraprobes' for measuring the salinity (salt content) of the ice.

The centre piece is a 5 m (16 ft) mast. The top has a T-section on which are mounted air temperature and humidity sensors and a sonic 'pinger' which by mesuring the distance to the snow below allows us to measure the snow depth. At the bottom of the mast underwater, are two accoustic sounders (range finders), one looking up and one llking down, which allow us to measure the ice thickness as well as the water depth. All of these instruments are connected to a battery-powered data logger, allowing us to make these measurements through the growth and melt season of the ice off Barrow.

Here is our field support / bear guard Scott Oyagak, and Pat Cotter at our site.

As an improvement on previous mass balance sites, this site is equiped with a radio system to transmit the data back to a computer at BASC, which will then be transmitted to our computers back at Fairbanks, and posted on the web in near-real time. You can see the antenna in the picture above.

Jsut before we arrived there was an ivu - an ice shore event in which offshore winds drove the consolidated ice up onto the beach where it crumbled and rode up over itself making mounds up to 50 feet (16 m) high on the road near the bank building. We were lucky to have local scientist and director of BASC Richard Glenn describe many aspects of the ivu. Richard is half Inupiaq and has a unique combination of local and wetern scientific knowledge of the ice conditions and behaviour. I'm certainly not the first kiwi up here. We also met Richard's wife, whose concern in preserving their Inupiaq language led her to New Zealand in the hope of learning about Kohanga Reo and other Maori language initiatives, and Barrow has hosted Maori delegations up here.

Lisa brings cold snap to Fairbanks.

Lise arrived in town January 12, and on time - an unexpected surprise from Alaska Airlines! She was also bang on time for the cold snap jokingly predicted by all and sundry, and of course by the immutable Murphy's Law. In fact this January has been about the 5th coldest in the last 35 years. People are scoffing at 'global warming', and the newspapers have been trying to differentiate between short scale local weather and long term, large scale trends in climate.

None of this stopped Lise, who seemed determined to carry on with her summer running schedule as much as possible! She dragged me out skiing and walking on the first weekend when it was only -30 C. Motorists actually pulled over to photograph her during her lunchtime run yesterday in -45 C !

Here's Lise at Creamer's field migratory bird area wondering why she'd flown north for the winter. The new Marmot jacket, and NZ leather/wool hat from my Dad are proving very popular!

Lise has taken to nordic skiing really quickly and we both enjoy getting out on the groomed trails and the mutli-use trails in the woods out of town.

White mascara is super fashionable in Alaska

Here we are basking in the short period of winter light having just jumped aside to let some ski-jorers through with their dogs. How 'bout those eye lashes! If I'm looking worse for wear here you should have seen me 35 minutes later, trying to keep up with her on the ski back out. It had just dumped a lot of snow so ski technique was less important that aerobic fitness as we basically jogged with skis on, and my snack-machine fitness plan was definitely shown up!

Its so great to be together again in the same place. Over the last 5 years, we've spent about 1 year apart; we're really looking forward to the next three years together in this exotic place called Alaska. We're already had to deal with squirrels in the roofing, a partially frozen water line under the sink, and changing a car tire in -25 C. There will be more challenges ahead for sure, but also a great many special opportunities.

Christmas & Tolovana Trip

Christmas was a little strange again this year. In some ways the being away from friends and family back in new Zealand was no different to other times of the year, and was probably not worse because it just didn't feel like Christmas. A White Christmas is some kind of ideal that we've been fed even in the Southern Hemisphere - and its cool alright - but the seasonal triggers just aren't there: no progressive build up from cut grass in the spring, the start of the cricket season, first chilly days at the beach, the Wellington November winds, slowly increasing temperatures and promise of those two weeks spanning Christmas and New Years where the whole country seems to just shift down a gear. Without those associations, which tie one Christmas with those nostalgic ones of years gone by - when the summers were always longer and hotter - there is undeniably something missing at a time of tradition.

I split the day between a midday ski with a bunch of friends and the afternoon and evening with Anna and Andy Roberts, who I'd been staying with I first arrived. We had a little antipodean bonding, all being so far from home, and the phone/skype lines were busy. Andy was being really knocked around by his chemo drugs; but it was really nice to spend time with these guys who have been so good to me in such trying times and become good friends. It was neat to open my gifts from home on Christmas Day with Lisa on the phone. Her arrival in two weeks will be a second Christmas

On Boxing Day I took off with the Christmas day skiing crowd for a three day trip to Tolovana Hot Springs. It was a 2 hour drive and 3.5 hour ski to get into the cabin. The drop into the valley was bloody steep for my skis and inexperience, but the slog up hill was rewarded with spectacular views of the Alaska range and painted sky to the south, and massive hoar frost crystals twinkling all around.

At the cabins we rented at the private hot springs, we fired up the stoves, ate well, and lounged in the tub. On Tuesday we skied about to somewhat justify more indulgences. Trivial pursuits went to the wire and fun was had by all.

Left to right: Lars, Phil, Ed, (Dart), Andy, Ellie, Anthony, and Leslie enjoying a dinner of salmon (in foil), lentil salad and couscous, night two in the cabin.

Here's the view looking west on the ski out on Wednesday. Lars, up on an abandoned water tank, is looking south towards Denali which was prominent on the horizon in such good, clear conditions. With about 4 hours each way, this was about as long as is comfortable with the current daylight conditions. We stopped at the HillTop truck stop for fries and hot chocolate/coffee and were back in town by 7pm.

A great trip with great people, that, I suppose layed a little ground work for this time next year really feeling more 'like Christmas'.