Glacier to Alaska Excursions

It is hard to believe that last Sunday I took my final helicopter ride of the season. Four months ago, I began my summer on the Herbert Glacier, and rather abruptly, the season is over. The last two weeks were filled with their own highs and lows as well as beautiful days and stagnant whiteouts. I continued my marathon reading, totaling my book list to a healthy twenty novels. However, as the end came closer, we had little time to relax, using every spare moment to break down camp instead. We took apart every tent and tent platform, packed away all seventy-five doghouses, and sorted all the gear. Every single returning helicopter was full not only with tourists but all our extra gear as well. The cheeks and aft of the helicopters bugled with tents, tools, stoves, paint, buckets, spare sled parts, empty propane bottles, and much more. End of the season tours were also slightly different, as there was neither dining tent nor doghouses with which to model and fill time on the tours. The trail itself brought new challenges. Clear blue standing water covered sections of the trail, and crevasses criss-crossed our path. Unfortunately, one guest actually fractured her ankle while crossing one of the crevasses. Five pages of statements later, it was concluded that the guest was ultimately responsible since she had signed the waiver stating she understood the risks involved.
About two hours after I flew down, the dogs landed after their second, and last, helicopter flight of the season. It was the first time the dogs had seen solid ground in four months. As each one animatedly leapt to the ground, I had an image in my head of lost sailors washing onto shore after months at sea, kissing the ground and thanking god. Whether the dogs were thrilled to finally return to solid ground or they were just happy to be out of the helicopter, it’s safe to say that they were ecstatic. I loaded all 39 into the trailer, and John Fink picked us up and drove us out to Alaska Excursions. Alaska Excursions is a ground operation where teams of 16 dogs pull a cart on a mile loop. For the next week, the dogs will relax and let their pads toughen up before they begin working again. If only I was so lucky. I had two days off, spent Wednesday storing the last of the glacier gear, and then on Thursday I started working for Alaska Excursions giving a combination of cart tours, doggie demos, and musher talks. Overall, it has been an easy transition. I’ve moved from a tent with a propane heater on the glacier to a four-wall tent with a wood stove on Douglas Island. I’ve switched from real sleds to 1,000-pound carts (which I might add don’t steer at all like sleds, as I discovered when I almost ran my cart into the embankment). One of the perks of living on the ground is that I can free run the dogs. This morning, I took groups of four dogs for short hikes in the Tongass National Forest around camp. I’ve never seen dogs so happy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM-5P24PiJA

Helicopter Ride, Herbert Glacier, and Winter 2010-2011

First, to explain the videos:
My last flight down from the glacier was one I’ll never forget. Occasionally, the helicopters will fly up or down from the glacier without tourists. My flight down was one such case, which meant that I had a private flight down into Juneau with one of my favorite pilots, Melinda. Melinda is an athletic, spunky 24 year-old who can fly with the best of them. When I loaded into the helicopter, Melinda looked over, and said, “Ok Ryne. It’s just you and me, where do you want to go? We can fly anywhere.” Instead of taking the normal route back down the glacier, we turned north and flew up over the icefalls and over to the Eagle Glacier one valley over. It was PHENOMENAL. I played tourist and took two short videos of parts of the flight, but they just didn’t do the scenery justice. It was absolutely stunning. I think I could get used to having a private pilot chauffeur.

Otherwise, life on the glacier this past week has been either one of two extremes: overwhelmingly busy or at a stand still. One of the days, we had 88 people visit the glacier, which means I gave eight one-hour tours in a row. Let’s just say that I started to sound like a tape recording. On the bright side, the day flew by. All the rest of the days were completely weathered. Four days of whiteouts, while relaxing can become a bit monotonous, especially when you run out of books. I had to resort to reading poetry… I know- I was desperate. As the pictures show, Alaska and Prancer lucked out and got to spend some time lounging in my tent and keeping me company.

The big news in the life of Ryne is that I’ve decided to postpone the Iditarod for another year and move up here to Alaska! I did not feel that I would be prepared for the “Last Great Race” by only giving tours in Michigan, so I accepted a job handling for Aliy Zirkle (the first woman to win the 1000 mile Yukon Quest) and Allen Moore up in Two Rivers, outside of Fairbanks. This way, I’ll get some more time on the runners and spend a winter with a true racing kennel. Not to mention, I will live in a cabin with running water! What a concept. I’ll fly up to Fairbanks on October 10th, which means I’ll have a week at home to visit the family! I can’t wait! (And yes, Vanessa, you’re included under the ‘family’ category, so I’ll be visiting you too!)

People Watching

It’s hard to believe that it is already August, meaning that a new blog posting is beyond overdue. But where to start…

At the moment, I’m sitting at a window on the top floor of the Juneau Public Library, looking out over the meandering mayhem of cruise ship life, and roasting myself in the sun’s extreme, but welcomed, rays. Yes, it’s so bright that I’m even wearing my sunglasses inside, which attests to the fact that I’ve adapted to the lack of sunlight in this region of the country. But weather and sunshine aside, the real interest is of the tourists down below. Currently there are four cruise ships docked in Juneau, meaning that no less than 8,000 people have been unleashed in the town. Shops are filled to the brim, traffic has been slowed to five or ten miles per hour, tourist-packed sea planes are landing and taking off every five minutes, restaurants are overflowing, and everywhere I look there are people strolling and milling about aimlessly. Whoever said that airports are the best place for people watching has never spent a warm afternoon at a cruise ship port town. There are enough people, languages, and characters out to keep even an ADHD child occupied. This is the real reality TV. Earlier, two groups of sports fanatics began badgering each other from either sides of the road about the upcoming football season and the promise of their respective rivaled teams. Later, I walked behind a couple who where communicating via walkie-talkie with their children who had run ahead in search of an ice cream shop. I don’t purposefully eavesdrop on others’ conversations, but when someone is loudly yelling into a walkie-talkie about their desire for MOOSETRACK ICECREAM, it’s hard not to overhear. Of course, there are so many other conversations in Spanish, Mandarin, Hebrew, Hindi, and other languages that often I have no idea what is being discussed. I do find it interesting, however, that upon docking, some people flock to the restaurants. This is a mystery for two reasons: 1. Cruise ships are structured around meals and eating and 2. Many popular Juneau restaurants are not that good. While I cannot assume that the tourists are aware of the overpriced, mediocre food at popular spots like the Red Dog Saloon and the Twisted Fish, I can question why upon arrival, some cruiser’s first reaction is to eat. I’ve heard from many reputable sources that on the ships, there is breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and midnight snack, not to mention the always-open pizza parlors and ice cream stands. I must admit, it sounds wonderful. All of the meals overlap and provide ample opportunity to eat the entire trip, so why would their first stop be for food, especially when Juneau has so much more to offer? Being a grazer (someone who doesn’t often eat large meals but rather eats lots of snacks here and there), I would probably never stop eating on a cruise. Sign me up. Of course, regardless of what people choose to do upon arrival in Juneau, the overall point I’m trying to make is this: Juneau has world-class people watching.

One of the great things about my job on the glacier is that I have the opportunity to interact with many of aforementioned characters off the ship. The friendly Indian couple that I mentioned in a previous blog recently sent me an email with pictures from their trip. Another group left me their email and insisted that I come and visit them in Mexico City. An absolutely wonderful family from Texas (whose aunt actually works with my mom at Purg) sent me an email about potentially dog sledding in Michigan this winter. The guests themselves are often so enjoyable and fun that the hour-long tour is over before I know it. However, I have started to notice a strange trend. I’ve found that I am more apt to be tipped if I appear to not overly enjoy my job. Now, that’s not to say that I should be inconsiderate or angry, but people want to ride with a slightly calloused, rough and tough musher who has Jack London-like stories of the trail and a very dry, though amicable demeanor. My hypothesis is not proven, but I’m guessing that if I’m too happy, they believe that I simply enjoy my job and a tip is not necessary.

But enough about people. On to the nature and the outdoors. Recently, the weather has been phenomenal and the salmon are running in the nearby streams. It’s the first time I’ve ever watched or experienced the famous salmon run, and it really is a sight to be seen. I posted a short video below, so you’ll have to check it out. I think I was particularly excited to watch the migration of fish because on the glacier, there is little to no wildlife. Other than the occasional raven, the glacier is a world of rock and ice (and dogs) although, I did see a hummingbird trying to feed out of our orange flags the other day. The pictures from the previous blog depict the incredible scenery around Juneau and Douglas Island. I went camping with my housemate, Crissy, and her two dogs, Lucy and Bo as well as did some exploring up a nearby valley. By the time the hike was over, Crissy and I were both completely soaked from the dew and water on the surrounding brush. The views and copious amounts of salmon berries and blueberries made the hike more than worth the chill. I’ve also posted some pictures of the ground layer of fog that hung directly below camp, preventing the arrival of a day’s worth of tours.