A Flash in the Pan

Occasionally Sophie and I put on our real tourist hats and set off to see the sites. Fairbanks offers a couple of things you just know are going to be a little hokey but hopefully still a lot of fun. One company runs two of these tourist attractions so credit card in hand we signed up for a tour of Gold Dredge #8 in the morning followed by an excursion on the Riverboat Discovery in the afternoon.

Gold Dredge #8 is similar to the type of mining activity that caused all the piles of rock and gravel around Fairplay, CO. A dredge is a pretty simple concept. It resembles a boat, or rather more a floating barge, located in what is often times a man made lake or pond. At the front end are a series of large ore buckets that eat into the bank ahead of the dredge. The buckets carry the material into giant sorters on the dredge which sorts out the large rocks from the smaller stones and sand which is where the gold, if there is any, will be found. The excess rocks and material are then dumped off the back of the dredge. The lake or pond stays about the same size  but continues to move forward as the dredge processes what's ahead of it.

Dredges can efficiently process a lot of material and can find a lot of gold if any is to be found. In its heyday Dredge #8 was processing up to 4,000 ounces of gold a week making its owners a lot of money while it was operating. The modern-day miners featured in the shows on the Discovery Channel would feel like they had died and gone to heaven if they recovered anywhere near that quantity.

All that is very interesting for engineers and history buffs but for most of the tourists the fun factor came in the form of holding a 10" metal pan and panning for their own gold. I had never panned for gold before and it actually was kind of fun as you swirled and strained the material hoping to catch that glint of real gold. Now to be honest, the material they give you has been "salted" with flakes of the real thing so everyone is guaranteed to, if not strike it rich, at least feel the thrill of catching a flash in the pan.

Combining our finds Sophie and I went into the conveniently adjacent  gift shop to have it weighed and valued. Our combined yield? $36 for about 15 minutes work. So you might be thinking, how can this operation stay in business giving away  real gold? Here's how - in that friendly gift shop they have lockets you can buy so you too can display those beautiful golden flakes you panned yourself. Cost of Sophie's  locket (you really thought there was any real chance of escaping without one?) was $109, thank you very much. I felt like I was at Kohl's  where at checkout they say things like "that'll  be $119, but you saved $230!". When they do that I always expect the difference  back in my pocket but it never seems to work out that way.

Still, Sophie had so much fun and was so excited panning, and actually finding, gold that I went to a Sportsmans Warehouse  and bought my lovely locket-wearing wife her very own gold pan. While there I tried to ignore the bundles of dirt  guaranteeing $XXX amount of gold for $19.99 hanging just above.

When we get back to Denver and check out at Kohl's I'm looking forward to handing the clerk a bag of gold my wife panned out of all the rivers and lakes we passed on our way home. "Here you go young lady, it looks like $119, but it's really $230; can I have my change in small bills?"

Bike to Work Day Alaska Style

One thing I miss about working is that I had the chance to occasionally commute to work by bike. Much to the annoyance of the ever-increasing number of its motorists, Colorado is one bike crazy state. Bike to Work Day, held in June, sees thousands of cyclists head off on their trusty two-wheeled steeds along a system of bike paths that would confuse any cartographer.

People in Colorado actually use their bikes to get around town and to run errands to the store, to Starbucks, to McDonald's.  Many of the large towns have Bike Share programs where you can, armed only with a credit card, use a snazzy looking cruiser bike to remind yourself what painful leg muscles feel like.

Here in Fairbanks they also have a Bike Share program with racks of what appear to be new shiny red bikes just itching to be taken out for a spin. I'm not sure if these bikes are really new or just never used because in our time here I never did see one being ridden. Still they pose nicely for a great picture.

Being retired and visiting the great State of Alaska I wasn't really tuned in to whether they participate in the annual Bike to Work ritual. I'm assuming at least one intrepid Alaskan braved the one day of sunshine by getting out of their truck to attempt this novel way to commute. No excuse for not having the time what with the 24 hours of daylight and all.

My wife Sophie and I have been riding every chance we get. Biking Alaska is a wonderful experience. I don't think Alaskan drivers are quite sure how to handle cyclists  trying to navigate the same gravel roads, pot holes, and frost heaves they are. Still, they have been very courteous and polite. I haven't seen a single finger salute aimed in my direction since we've been here whereas back in Denver that would be an hourly occurrence.

I guess I shouldn't harp on Alaskans not riding their bikes very often. Between their trucks, snow machines, float planes, dog sleds, paddle wheelers, and railroads who has time to break out the lycra hidden under all that fur.

Ode to the State Bird

"There's not a single mosquito  in Alaska. They're all married and raising very large families."

Alaskan bumper sticker.

'Nuff said.

Farthest North Packer fan?

I come from Bronco country home of the orange and blue superbowl champions.  Alaska doesn't have an NFL team yet and the stores up here seem to stock Seattle Seahawks attire so that must be who most Alaskans root for.

When we were driving towards the Dalton Highway which takes you to Prudhoe  Bay before coming to a rather abrupt end at the Beaufort  Sea which is part of the Artic Ocean, I came across an Adopt A Spot Highway sign that proudly proclaimed that this particular stretch of highway was being kept clean by the "Farthest North Packer Fans". When I took the picture I also checked my GPS  coordinates to document this momentous occasion.

65 degrees 7 minutes North latitude and an altitude of 1,190 feet marks the claim of these diehard cheese heads. Now, Greenbay, Wisconsin has been known to entertain some pretty frosty conditions but it intrigued me to find loyal fans of the green and yellow so far from home.

So it got me to thinking - why doesn't this "Great Land" as Alaska refers to itself not have an NFL  team of its own? The state is chock full of great names for a team. Chicago may have the Bears but Alaska has the Grizzlies and Polar Bears. Denver may have them Broncos, but here they have Caribou and Muskoxen  (OK, even I wouldn't want to cheer on a team called the mighty Oxen). The list goes on and on - there's  Moose, Wolves, Wolverines, Whales, Eagles, and my vote getter - the Halibut. And heck, if the fightin' Alaska Halibuts can't win football games that's OK cause they're still good to eat which is more than can be said for those cheese curd things they brag about in Green Bay.

Still, I don't think Alaska will be getting a pro team anytime soon and it's not just the problem of what to name them. I might have mentioned (over, and over, and over) that it can get a little chilly up here at about the same time the football season commences. I checked to see the coldest NFL game ever played. It is referred to as the Freezer Bowl and took place January 10, 1982 as the San Diego  Chargers took on  the Cincinnati  Bengals in the 1981 AFC Championship game. Temperature for the game? A balmy 9 degrees below zero. Heck, 9 below wouldn't get Alaskans to throw another log on the fire or even close the window. Would the macho NFL be up for something a wee bit colder - say in the 30-60 below range? They talk about it getting so cold tires freeze into squares so I can only imagine what would happen to the poor pigskin at those temps. You think 'Deflate-gate' was bad - just wait for 'Icegate' where receivers are knocked unconscious as the frozen ice football careens off their helmets. Of course I'm being silly, none of this would happen because the QB couldn't get his fur lined mittens off fast enough to actually throw the ice bomb anywhere. And how about the poor cheerleaders? It may be sexist but no one wants to see gorgeous women all bundled up in mukluks and anoraks and bulky fur hats. And let's not forget the fans. Fairbanks, where I am now, boasts about 36,000 folks with a total of nearly 100,000 within a hundred square miles. So they might be able to just about fill a stadium but with that many people all seeing their breath at 40 below forget about  Freezer Bowls, it would be more like the Fog Bowl. The announcers wouldn't even be able to see what was happening on the field.

So I guess Alaska and pro football won't be connecting anytime soon. Those 'Farthest North Packer Fans' can continue to root for their favorite team. It gets me to wondering though; where lives the 'Farthest North BRONCO Fan'? If anyone knows and by chance he (or she!) Is up this way I'd love to look them up. As I close I'll dedicate this to Steven L. who is a part of the wonderful Help Desk at the company I retired from and a diehard Packer fanatic and to Ms. D. Jones, perhaps the best unsung fan in Bronco Nation. If you ever move north there's still some unclaimed stretches of tundra and permafrost available for cleanup.

To see how the students at the University  of Alaska/Fairbanks celebrate the cold click here.

Fairbanks reached

Alaskans do pride themselves on an independent nature...

The road into the US  goes through some very pretty country. Both the US  and Canada actually have their border stations somewhat away from the real boundary between the two countries. At the boundary there is a nice display and the border is clearly marked by a clear cut of trees stretching  as far as the eye can see in both directions.  Getting through US customs was straightforward and from there you have a drive

into the town of Tok, Alaska. Fortunately we had beautiful  weather  for this leg. We spent the night at a Alaska state campground just outside of Tok and then the next day moseyed our way halfway to Fairbanks before stopping at Quartz Lake state recreational  area. Quartz Lake is popular with local Alaskans who flock to the lake to fish due to its close proximity to fairbanks  (roughly the same drive, but fortunately not the same traffic, as from Denver to Lake Dillon. We also stopped in Delta Junction which is the technical end of the Alaska Highway.

We're  staying at the Chena River State Recreation Area in Fairbanks which is nice save for its being in close, very close, proximity to the Fairbanks International Airport which seems to be pretty busy with your typical passenger jets along with a lot of vintage, but still flying DC-3's and DC-6's as well as a whole mishmash of private aircraft such as the ubiquitous Piper

Cubs which at this time of year sport big fat balloon tires or floats for landing on lakes and rivers. In a couple of months they'll switch out the floats or wheels for skis and continue to land on the same lakes and rivers once they freeze solid. They tell us a Piper Cub can take off in as little as 140 feet.

The temperature has been anywhere from the 50's to high 70's but I'm not sure I'd want to be here in winter when temps plummet to as much as 60-70 degrees below zero. Google the university of Alaska/Fairbanks and you can see pictures of the student bodies posing in briefs and bikinis next to the UAF temperature sign showing modestly chilly readings in the 40 below range. Either the students are smart enough to not pose at 60+ degrees below or perhaps the temperature sign gives up registering at those frigid readings.

Start of the dirt section on the Dalton Highway

We took a drive north of town to see what the infamous Dalton Highway looks like. It starts out paved but past the town (and I use the term "town" euphemistically) of Livengood it's 456 miles of dirt road until you reach Prudhoe Bay. About a third of the way up you cross the Artic Circle which at a minimum is our goal after experiencing what these dirt roads can dish out. We'll  keep our fingers crossed!

I think this little guy has misplaced his dust goggles

I'm in love...

I'm in love but my wife is OK with it. I've finally found a tire I could wrap my arms around that might stand up to the road conditions up here.

Unfortunately my love is unrequited as the object of my affection just won't fit my current lifestyle choices. She would truly turn my humble toyota  sienna into a monster van but not sure she'd even be considered street legal back home. But take a look; you have to admit that this is what being a tire is all about. What a beauty. I'd have taken her with me but I couldn't even lift the tire iron to remove her lug nuts. Still, she'll remain in my dreams as the tire that got away. May she roll forever in happiness until our paths meet again...

Bear with me...

Prior blogs have featured the ursine cast of black bears that we have seen plenty of this trip. More elusive have been our attempts to view the black bears more formidable relative the grizzly. Brochures speak to there being approximately 6,000 grizzlies in this neck of the woods so we knew if we were patient we'd  eventually catch a glimpse.

The road from Whitehorse towards  Haines Junction and then on to Destruction Bay sees the Vistas become more expansive  with mountains to the left and lake after lake to the right. And yes, finally the anticipated grizzlies.

We were planning on spending the night in the campground in Destruction  Bay but when we pulled in the sign indic ated only hard shelled campers and RV'S were allowed due to lots of bear activity. As we continued on we noticed a blackish bump off to the side and as we got closer saw it was moving. Sure enough our first grizzly sighting was upon us and this time we hit the mother lode as it was a sow with two cubs

looking like they were just a month or two old. They were partaking of the lush grass and dandelion  smorgasbord and really couldn't have cared less that a couple of gawker were being quite rude by watching them eat. Grizzlies are very distinctive up close from black bears having a pronounced shoulder hump and a

somewhat dished face. While momma bear was going back for second and third helpings the two cubs were doing nothing as much as simply playing with each other and enjoying a spectacularly beautiful day.

When I was working at Pinnacol I would share some bear stories with my coworkers.  One, Doretha, who I miss seeing every day, feels that roughing it is when the hotel doesn't have a hot tub and wouldn't be caught dead sleeping in a tent in the woods. I always told her the golden rule is to never hike alone in bear country and that rule number two is that you don't have to outrun the bear, you just have to outrun the person you're hiking with. So for her I'll share this last picture that we took in a gift shop after crossing into Alaska because as much as we wanted to set a spell with momma and her cubs we eventually had to bid them adieu and continue down the long road.