Saturday, August 22, 2009

Kristie's Flowers


With three frosts behind us and leaves turning beautiful reds and yellows, summer's flowers will soon be fading. Mike decided to preserve the colorful flowers through a few pictures. I hope you enjoy them as much as we have!









Sunday, August 9, 2009

Seasons are Changing

August in Fairbanks seems to be a transition month for weather. We have had a low of 34 last week. We are forecasted to be in the 30’s most of this next week. Last evening and this morning, we have had rain. Now the sky is clearing and the wind is blowing. Do you remember the feeling of fall? That is what today is like. We actually have a few trees that are in the very beginning of their fall colors! There are not many that way and I’m not sure if it’s because we have been so dry or if it’s the cool temps at night.

Also, the Fireweed (a flowering plant native to Alaska) is blooming at the top. The plant blooms from the bottom up. The old saying, or at least what I have heard, is that when the top of the Fireweed blooms, you can expect the first snow in about 6 weeks. I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but we will see!

I will keep you posted as the weather gets colder!

LARS

Mike enjoys the musk ox fur.

On Friday evening, Mike and I were invited to a private tour of the Large Animal Research Station (LARS) by Russ and Nancy Wagner. Russ and Nancy's daughter, son-in-law and grandsons were visiting from the Lower 48. After a wonderful dinner of fresh King Salmon, the eight of us drove over to the University of Alaska at Fairbanks for this special treat.


If you are interested in knowing more about LARS, you can check it out at http://www.uaf.edu/lars/.

Jalepeno, the musk ox, is a popular attraction at LARS.


This musk ox gives Mike the evil eye!


These two female musk ox love to eat willow leaves.


This male caribou spends most of his day sitting because of the weight of his antlers.


LARS researches the behaviors of caribou.



Female caribou like willow leaves, as well.


Left: Mama Caribou; Middle: Baby Caribou Right: Male Caribou


From left to right: Shelly, Scott, Russ, Nancy and Kristie



Russ and Nancy's grandsons, Zach and Camden



Russ smiles for Mike's carmera!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Raspberries and Mt. Margaret

Mt. McKinley in full view!


As most weekends come and go, Mike and I experience some kind of Alaskan adventure. This past weekend was no different. On Sunday, Mike and I went down to the Salcha River in search for fresh raspberries. When we arrived, we decided to have our lunch under the shade of a beautiful Alaskan Birch tree. Once we finished our “gourmet” ham sandwiches and trail mix (we eat good you know!), we set out on our quest for berries. Within seconds, we found bushes loaded with red, luscious raspberries. An hour into picking, I looked at Mike’s bucket and was in shock. His bucket was not nearly as full as mine. Where were all the berries? Then I heard Mike mumble, “One berry for the bucket and two for me. Two berries for the bucket, three for me.” Without wasting any more thoughts on Mike’s berry picking, I realized that I would bring home the berries and Mike would eat them. At the end of the day, we brought home 1 ½ gallons of raspberries.

Since I have this week off, Mike and I drove to Denali National Park on Monday. Mike had planned a nice, easy hike for us to Mt. Margaret. Arriving at Savage River, we put on our backpacks and headed for the hills. On the short walk to the starting point of our hike, I read through the “Hiking Denali” book that Mike had used to plan our hike. I wanted to know more about our easy hike. The first thing I read was, “Beware of Bears.” This was very comforting. On this nice, easy hike, we could encounter bears. So, in reality, a nice, easy hike could turn into an encounter with a massive, sharp-clawed, man-eating grizzly.

Without anymore thoughts of bears, Mike and I headed up hill. We passed through patches of blueberries. Occasionally, Mike would reach down, pick a few, pop them in his mouth and then smile as he swallowed. At this point in our journey the most ferocious thing we encountered were marmots. Marmots are small rodent-like animals that make their homes by burrowing holes in the ground or living in one of the many rock formations.

After about an hour of climbing what seemed to be straight up the mountain, I began to get tired and my feet were burning with blisters. When Mike and I stopped for a break, I looked at my dear, sweet husband and said, “Honey, how are you feeling? Is this hike as easy as you thought it would be? I’m hurting!”

He looked at me with smugness and replied, “I feel fine. I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.”

Did my ears deceive me or did I just hear my husband joke about my age? With a grimace, I retorted, “You’re day is coming!”

Four hours later, Mike and I were within view of the peak of Mt. Margaret. The only thing that stood in the way of us reaching our goal was a heard of Dahl sheep. From a distance, these sheep looked cute and harmless as they grazed on the tasty, mountain grass. Thinking of how nice it would be to get some close up pictures of Dahl sheep, we moved in closer. The male sheep had his back end to us. I began to take some pictures when I noticed a female sheep looking at us. She was grazing with her baby lamb. As she gazed down upon us, she began to look a little agitated. I nudged Mike and said, “Hey. Look at that one. She looks mean.”

As I said those words, she began charging down the hill towards us! I yelled at Mike to give me the bear spray. Surely, bear spray would work on a sheep. I know it’s not sheep spray, but I didn’t think she would notice. In my panic, I heard Mike yelling, “Go! Go! Go! Get down the hill!”

I turned to look at Mike and he was high-tailing it down the hill. Then, I turned to look at Mama Sheep and she was still headed my way. Without further thought, I sprinted down the hill after Mike. I never knew a 40 year old woman could run that fast. I’m almost positive that I could have outrun any Olympic athlete. As I passed Mike, I smiled and said, “See ya at the bottom, kiddo!”

I finally ran out of breath about half-way down the mountain. The sheep was long gone and out of site. After a short rest, Mike and I made our way back to the bottom and to the Savage River. Without giving much thought to our sheep encounter, we took off our shoes and soaked our tired, sore feet in the ice-cold glacial waters.

With our feet feeling somewhat rejuvenated, Mike and I began our drive back to Fairbanks. As we sat in the car for the 2 hour drive, our muscles began to stiffen. When we arrived at home, we took hot showers, crawled (and I mean crawled) into bed and drifted off to sleep.

About an hour later, Mike awoke screaming like a little girl. “Help! Help!” With tears streaming down his face, he kept screaming in pain. I did not know what was happening. Should I call 911? As I tried to assess what could possibly be happening that would create such agony, I finally realized that he was having leg cramps. Mike Calvin’s famous words rang in my head, “I guess when you turn 40, your age begins to show.” Ohhh, this would be worth every blister on my feet. However, I could wait to rub it in until later. I heated a hot pack for his legs and wiped the sweat from his brow. As I watched the pain give way to sleep, I turned over, smiled to myself and replayed the day’s events until my eyes gently closed and I was asleep.



Fresh raspberries waiting to be eaten by Mike.


Kristie picking berries, NOT eating them.


Mt. McKinley in the distance


Mike and Kristie, before the pain began.


View of the Salvage River and valley.



Mike is feeling good. Wait until 1:30 a.m.!


With no one within ear shot, Mike practices his yodeling.


Kristie rethinks this hike after finding multiple blisters on her feet.



Mike takes in the view.


Kristie takes pictures of Mt. McKinley.


Marmots are plentiful in Denali National Park.


A caribou grazes in Denali.

Alaskan Wildfires

Smoke from fires between Nenana and Fairbanks rage out of control.


The sun glows an eerie red through the smoke and ash.


Visibility is reduced to under a mile because of the smoke.