THE KESUGI RIDGE EXPERIENCE

One of my favorite fast-packing places is the Kesugi Ridge Trail, in Denali State Park. It is about 200 miles southwest of Fairbanks, on the east side of the Parks highway, south of Cantwell, heading toward Talkeetna and the Matanuska-Susitna valleys.

It is a 27.3 mile trail that quickly ascends at either end, 1500 to 2500 feet above the Chulitna River valley. You therefore remain above tree-line (which is only at 2500 ft. msl) most of the time, in an open expansive tundra setting, with far-reaching views of the Alaska Range and Denali on the west side, and if you climb to the top of Kesugi Ridge, or go through the two bi-secting drainages of it, to the east the vast Talkeetna mountains. Both roadless and unpopulated.

A strange thing happened on 03 July, 2007 when I did a fast-pack there. That one did quite pan out as expected. Which is why I have no pictures from that trip. I've only told a few people about it, and in a somewhat edited, abbreviated form. So I felt it would be good to tell the whole story, exactly as it happened in my experience. I call it my near-death experience number 4 (NDE#4), as I have had five, in the past 19 years.

My first was the 2/28/1990 Mt. Hood alpine ski incident, whereby I flew off a ledge on a sheet-ice snow-day, hit a tree in mid-air, and ended up 40 ft. below in a grove of mountain hemlocks. To be found two hours later by some other skiers at the end of the day who decided to investigate after hearing a slight moaning sound. My only memory is waking up on the ski patrol backboard, then the long ambulance ride back to Portland, reconstructive surgery to pull out my dented face, involving metal plates around my left eye, etc..

Number two was a rafting incident on the Clark Fork river in the Alberton Gorge, near Missoula, MT five months later. A Univ. of MT outdoor program raft trip went awry when the novice rafters in my boat stopped paddling as we neared a huge standing wave, and we all were thrown into the 50 deg. F rapids for half an hour, before others could pull us out quite a ways downriver. I certainly would not be here were it not for the life jacket. As it was, we had no helmets, or dry suits, just shorts/t-shirts/sandals.

Number three was a motorcycle incident in Missoula in April, 1992, where I had to drop my Honda CB700SC Nighthawk and run, as a car driving in reverse almost over-ran me. It almost hit me on foot! A panicked visiting Chinese professor who sideswiped a car on the other side of the street jammed it in reverse, not thinking. Number four, you'll read about shortly.

Number five was 28 January, 2008, when my beautiful adopted sled dog Kiana was killed by a hit/run speeding large truck, when we were running on Chena Ridge Road, about two miles from the A.P.R. Research Centre. She got away from me briefly, when Mattie pulled me, and out into the traffic lane. The brown/beige mid 1990s extra-cab Ford 4WD truck must have been going 70+ mph, went right through her, killing her instantly. It brushed my shoulder, I had just gotten out of the way in time. The truck never slowed or stopped. It had to have seen us, I was wearing bright reflective red, and Kiana had alot of white on her. I had adopted Kiana from the Fairbanks pound in August, 2007. She had no name, was injured, and very aggressive with other dogs when I found her. But in a few months of focused attention, she became a sweet and loyal companion.

So, back to my 2007 Kesugi Ridge fast-pack. I did get some nice pictures on the Kesugi Ridge trail when I first hiked there in August 2006, on the way to run my annual Whitehorse, Yukon marathon. I drove there with my two amazing canid companions, at the time, to do just an easy 3-day/2 night pack trip, since I was in the tapering mode of my marathon training, the week before the run.

This was Nimbus, a kind and gentle soul living in the body of a Wolf/Mackenzie River Husky mix. When I adopted him from the Fairbanks pound in May, 2006, he was wary and exceedingly scared of men. He had been physically abused, it was clear. All that was said was that he had been turned in for "not working out" as a sled dog. He wouldn't eat food from my hand unless I threw it to him, and then looked away, for the first few weeks. It took about two months to fully domesticate and bond with him. But when we did, he brought great joy to me and my other, older sled dog, Frost, a classic Alaskan racing husky, a veteran of seven years on a recreational team, many of which were as the lead. She sometimes ran over 100 miles a day at 12 mph along the frozen rivers and trails.

Nimbus was amazingly timid and gentle. He loved to run, and with his amazing size, presence, and plume of a tail, was a breathtaking sight. When we ran, even on the warmest of days, up to 20 miles, he never would stop for water! I tried to encourage him, but he just didn't want to! When smaller dogs would rush us from driveways on our neighborhood runs, he always would run away, instead of shredding them! He never barked in or around the house, he just squeaked when he wanted something. I never had to worry about him harming anything. And Frost really liked him.

They both really loved that trip, Nimbus even had to howl a few times to show his approval.

Because it was such a beautiful place. The first day of that trip, we had to hike in the rain to set up camp at the base of Indian Mountain, about five steep, switchbacked miles up from the Little Coal Creek trailhead, the northern end of the Ridge trail. But the next morning, opening the tent, Denali came into view as skies cleared.

We spent the day hiking about 8 miles south from camp, then up and around different parts of the ridge, enjoying the open tundra expanse and sweeping views, before going back to our camp. No bear worries up high either, the salmon were running down on the lower streams and rivers, keeping them happy down there.

After the previous cold, wet day, relaxing in the warm early August sun was a treat. That area south of the crest of the Alaska Range (which is about 40 miles north) is very wet, frontal systems from the Gulf of Alaska are not blocked much as they push inland and ascend there, squeezing out often days of rain and fog in late summer and early fall.

After our three days of therapy there, we drove to Whitehorse, via Valdez, as none of us had ever been there. That was quite beautiful.

It was Nimbus' last multi-day wilderness outing. He died at the age of three in November, 2006, in a freak accident. He at least had six good months in his short life, and brought great happiness to us overall, in spite of some occasionally difficult moments.

Frost succumbed to cancer in May, 2007, at the age of 12, after a month-long fight. She was a true, loyal, and devoted companion for the three years after I adopted her at the age of nine. With a quiet, poised, and timid presence, which belied her great athleticism.

For the first time in many years, I was dogless in the spring and summer of 2007, before adopting Kiana. It was strange, and I knew that couldn't last, though it was easier, just being able to take off and go anwhere, at any time, with no worries.

In late June of 2007, I was dispatched to forecast weather on the Caribou Hills fire, on the Kenai Peninsula, south of Anchorage. Inland from the little town of Ninilchik, the fire burned 55,300 acres and a few houses, but mostly on the first three days after it's start, by a man sharpening tools outside his cabin. By the time I got there 8 days later, the weather had turned cool and cloudy, and the fire behavior was low, and suppression was quick. But I had ten beautiful days there, the suppression team worked out of the Ninilchik Jr./Sr. High School, on the bluff above Cook inlet. This was our view out the back, looking toward Mt. Redoubt. I sure didn't mind camping out on top of that bluff, falling asleep to the sound of the waves 100 ft. below. And late evening treasure-combing on the beach.

But I had wanted to do one my fast-packs on the Kesugi Ridge trail that summer, it was going to be right on my way home, as I headed back from the fire, perfect. I would hike/run the 27.3 miles of trail in 6-7 hours I reckoned, then ride my mountain bike, stashed earlier at Byer's Lake, the southern trail terminus, back to my car at the Little Coal Creek trailhead. About seventeen miles. Nothing I wasn't used to, or really expected to be out of ordinary experience.

I checked the weather the last full day I was at Ninilchik, July 1st, before packing up my gear that night for the drive home early the next day. The numerical forecast models all indicated that the surface thermal low, the axis of greatest instability, where thunderstorms tend to form, would be north of the crest of the Alaska Range, over the interior, which is most common in summer.

When I got to the Little Coal Creek trailhead at 1030 am on the morning of 03 July, 2007, it was foggy and sprinkling, and I decided to wait and see if it would dry out and clear up. By noon the fog was lifting, and I decided to get on my way. I was wearing shorts, and a long polypro top, that was it, because it was about 50 degrees. I didn't have a whole lot of food to bring, one lunch meal and two cliff bars, and I had another stashed in my bike bag, at Byers Lake, for the two hour ride back. I also had just two 1/2 litre bottles of water and a Rock Star energy drink (I don't really like those, but occasionally will have one only on a long day's outing, running/hiking, biking, or skiing). I was in my running shoes, with my metal trekking poles for stability. My pack only weighed then about 14-15 lbs. At the last minute, I threw my best wind/water proof Mountain Hardwear shell in my pack, a very wise decision. I really thought I could do more running than walking, so that I could do the trail in 6-7 hours, and two hours on the bike, making for a 8-9 hour day.

The first four miles up from Little Coal Creek are steep and switchbacked, so I walked those, into the fog. When I got up to where the trail tops out and starts to parallel the ridge on it's southwesterly course to Byers Lake, the fog lifted into a low stratus deck, and I could see more. I thought, great, with low stratus, the atmosphere will be stable, shouldn't run into any heavy weather. And, the first 13 miles or so, it just stayed cloudy, with the ceiling gradually lifting. I ran a little, but there were alot of rocky sections, so I ended mostly just walking at a brisk pace. I had lunch about 4 hours in, around mile 13.

There are two drainages slicing the ridge you have to walk down and up through, the second one is steeper and has very tall grass and saplings all around. Prime bear country, and you could not see far ahead of you. So I made alot of noise there. By the time I came back up onto the tundra from the second drainage, the sky behind me was very dark, and I heard rumbles of thunder. I was 16 miles in, going back was not an option, the storms movement was to the south, toward me. In fact, the sky was very dark, with a slight greenish tinge. That was very alarming, as that means deep convection, with hail, and lots of lightning.

I started to get a little panicked, as there is no shelter above tree-line. My options were to go down the ridge, and then bushwack through the thick spruce/alder forest to the Parks Highway, or keep going. I kept going. At mile 18, by the side of one of the many tiny lakes around the trail, I ran into a woman I used to know when I was in the Chena Goldstream Fire/Rescue a few years before, she was a medic, while I was a firefighter/medic. Her name was Heike, she is German. At this point it was raining lightly, the wind was picking up, and thunder was fairly frequent.

I stopped to chat with her. She had rigged up a little tarp shelter with some rocks and line, and was getting in to her sleeping bag, to get out of the weather. She was on a 3-day hike of the trail. When I told her my plans, her response was "you're crazy". Because the weather was really closing in now, the lightning was much more frequent. I slammed down my Rock Star energy drink and the last Cliff Bar. She didn't have room for me in her shelter, and I just wanted to keep going anyway. I didn't see Heike again for many months. When we finally met up, she said she was terrified she'd find my dead body on the trail the next day!

About a half-hour after leaving her, the storm closed in, with heavy rain, small hail, and a strong tail wind, maybe 40 mph. But the worst was the frequent lightning, all around and above. I saw many ground strikes within a mile. I thought of ditching my metal poles, but I needed those for stability, so as not to roll my ankle in my short running shoes, on the rough, rocky trail. At this point, my adrenaline kicked in. I had my shell on, hood down, so my head and torso were warm and dry, but my hands and legs were freezing, it was probably about 40F. I was in full panic mode. Lightning strikes were occurring all around me, so I just kept moving as fast as I could. I didn't run though, as it was quite rocky, and I didn't want to stumble and injure myself.

After about 30 minutes of this, probably around mile 19-20, the lightning was essentially continuous, with ground strikes very nearby. You can see in the above pictures, how exposed it is. Rain and small hail were still heavy, and my shell, shorts, legs, and hands were drenched. This is where something happened, which I'm still trying to get a grasp of.

I decided I was going to die. I knew it. There was nothing I could do. I'll never forget that feeling of release though, I just let go, and instantly I was transformed, I lost the panic feeling. I think I was still moving, but I don't remember. All I remember after this was communicating with my maternal Grandmother who passed away in 1996, and with my Aunt Rita, who was a great influence on me as a child. She passed away in 2002. I also saw my canid companions Coyote, Nahanni, Nimbus, and Frost, who had passed away between 2003 and the previous May. It felt like I was in a different place, and I don't know how much time passed, or if I was still moving. Many people who have had near-death experiences have reported being in a tunnel, heading toward a bright light, or something along those lines. I do seem to remember feeling and seeing like I was moving toward some light, and I could sense the presence of my ancestors and dogs there waiting for me. And I told them I was coming over. I lost all sense of what was going on in the physical world.

I think about an hour later, I just came to, for lack of a better description. That's when I can remember what was happening on the trail again. The lightning was fading out, but it was still raining and windy. My legs and hands were freezing, I was hungry, and thirsty, as I didn't bring enough water, but I was able to continue.

I finally reached the section of trail that drops down to Byer's Lake about 8 hours in, at mile 24. I had never been on this section. What I didn't realize is that it had been cut up a cliff face, essentially, so was very steep and rocky, with hazardous drop-offs. Since the rocks were wet and slippery, it took me 90 minutes to descend that face, as I had to take a step, stop, test the footing, take a step, etc.. The rain let up briefly the last two miles through the woods to Byers Lake. But when I got back to my bike, in the parking lot, 10 hours after my start, tired, hungry, thirsty, and slightly manic from the panic and strange experience, the rain started up again, harder than ever! At this point, I actually asked a couple people in the campground if I could get a ride back to my car, since I was tired, cold, sore from the adrenaline/strike, and hungry/thirsty. They turned me down, even after I offered to pay! I think they were loaded, there was lots of beer around. So, I got on the bike, and headed up the Parks Highway, in the rain. I did have a cliff bar in the bike bag, so I wolfed that down, but had no water to go with it.

The ride back 17 miles to my car took two hours. Level the first 8 or so, three uphill miles, then some downhill, and finally uphill the last couple to the Little Coal Creek trailhead. The rain finally stopped about ten miles in on my ride, which lifted my spirits a little. When I finally reached my car at 1230 am, I was pretty tired, but very sore, hungry, and thirsty. I changed into dry clothes, drank about a gallon of water, and loaded up for the four hour drive home.

When I started my drive back, my hands were shaking, and it finally sank in, I was alive and had made it. But in very bad shape. I had deep gashes on both of my hips from my pack. In my panic state, I just didn't take notice that was happening, and adjust the straps. Those took weeks to heal, and my clothes stuck to them once, which was very painful. My knees were very sore from the cliff face descent, and I think the adrenaline must have done something, as my whole body felt off, sore in a way, which I had never felt before. It seems clear now, in retrospect, that I was struck by lightning, either a direct hit, or charge from a very nearby strike. I read an article about lightning safety recently by the NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School), written by medical experts and physicists. Often times people who are struck will not have burns, especially if they are wet. I was drenched from the heavy rain at the time.

I stopped at a little pizza joint near Denali NP, which was still open, all they could give me was a sandwich, the kitchen was closed. But it was the best one I've ever had. I also had a beer, to calm my shaking hands. I told the people there my story, and they were interested, and congratulated me for making it. The rest of the way back home, as my favorite Thievery Corporation CDs were playing, I spent wondering, what had happened? I got home at 400 am, and fell right into bed, getting up at 1 pm. I had to work at 3pm that day, the 4th of July.

I really do feel as though I had crossed-over, into the "Mundo Otro" (other World), the place we end up when we let go our physical body, or at night, in our dreams. So, I have no fear of death, not that I am looking forward to it either though! It also made me realize how fortunate I am, to live in a place like Alaska, with an interesting career, and friends and family that I deeply care about. And that I should do something to make a difference in this World. Which gradually led to my decision to start the A.P.R., and provide information which we hope will make a difference to help bring about a more sane, just, and sustainable society, in this country, and the World at large. To also show that there are many progressive, caring, globally-oriented people in Alaska, not just Sarah and Todd Palins! There's alot of work to be done!

I didn't feel right for several months after this incident, my knees were sore for weeks, my running was off, I had to quit our Sept. Equinox marathon at mile 22 from hip pain. I visited an accupuncturist, Paula Kunkle, who is very well thought-of in the local holistic health community, and very hard to get in to see. This was about three days after the experience. I told her what happened. She said I was "not all there". That part of me had actually left, to the Next World, and that she needed to ground me, and bring that back. Which involved several sessions of needling :), which I think did help.

Finally, I want to leave you with this image.

It is the daily lightning ground-strike accumulation from 03 July, 2007. It turned out to be the heaviest day of the year! And, well south of where the models forecast, south of the crest of the Alaska range. Which is highly unusual. Note the strikes, even over Denali, that is very unusual. The vast expanse of ice and snow on and well around it usually serves to keep the atmosphere more stable in that vicinity, since it is colder at the surface there.

Since I hadn't planned to do this outing when I had left for the Caribou Hills fire, two weeks before, I didn't have as much gear with me. Now, when I do a summer fast-pack, I always bring my bivvy sack for emergency shelter (a small tent-like affair that fits just a sleeping bag and pad with a little headroom), +15F down sleeping bag (only weighs 1.8 lbs), hat, gloves, and pants, if I will be in shorts. And more food/water. If I think there could be thunderstorms, I wait for another day. Cheers.

THE YEAR WITHOUT A SPRING?

Greetings folks, from what seems like a warm summer day, here in Fairbanks, Alaska, 65 degrees of latitude, north of the Equator. Before we get started describing some interesting events occurring in this corner of the World, give this article a read, that I came across a few weeks ago in the truthout.org news-site.

TOWARD CLIMATE GEOENGINEERING?

Saturday 18 April 2009
by: Andrew Glikson, t r u t h o u t Perspective
President Obama's science adviser, John Holdren, said in his first interview this week that, "global warming is so dire, the Obama administration is discussing radical technologies to cool Earth's air." (Photo: AP)

Preamble: That global climate change has reached an impasse whereby the "powers-to-be" are entertaining climate geoengineering mitigation, instead of the urgent deep reduction of carbon emissions required by science, represents the ultimate moral bankruptcy of institutions and a failure of democracy.

With global atmospheric CO2 levels rising at about 2 ppm/year toward 388 ppm, or near-440 ppm CO2-e (including methane effects), John Holdren, in his first interview since being appointed as President Obama's new science adviser, revealed in an interview with The Associated Press (April 8, 2009) "global warming is so dire, the Obama administration is discussing radical technologies to cool Earth's air," which "as an experimental measure would only be used as a last resort - It's got to be looked at - We don't have the luxury of taking any approach off the table - One such extreme option includes shooting pollution particles into the upper atmosphere to reflect the sun's rays. Holdren compared the way humanity is facing dangerous climate change to passengers in a car with bad brakes heading toward a cliff in a fog, saying, "The sensible passengers will certainly say: 'Let's put on the brakes, even if we don't know it will save us. It may be too late. We don't know exactly where the cliff is.... Let's get on with it.'"

Holdren is not alone in considering geoengineering. The National Academy of Science is also looking at the subject in its new multidiscipline climate challenges program. The American Meteorological Society is preparing a statement on geoengineering, stating "it is prudent to consider geoengineering's potential, to understand its limits and to avoid rash deployment." The British parliament has discussed the idea.
Climate geoengineering ideas fall into at least four principal categories:

1) increased reflectivity (albedo) of the atmosphere, injecting sulphur dioxide (suggested by Paul Crutzen, the Nobel Prize winner atmospheric chemist), or alumina particles, or even installing reflectors in space. The effects of sulphur injections would simulate volcanic events, such as of Pinatubo (1991) or Tambora (1816), which resulted in cooling of the Earth's surface by about 0.5 degrees. At best, albedo enhancement represents a short-term Band Aid solution to the fundamental greenhouse problem, and will not be able to prevent ocean acidification.

(2) Increased sequestration of CO2 in the oceans, enhancing algal blooms and phytoplankton photosynthesis through fertilization with iron filings, or constructing vertical pipe systems designed to enhance oceanic circulation and CO2 intake from the atmosphere.

(3) Biochar burial and soil enrichment. Combustion of plant waste under low oxygen conditions and burial as charcoal, removing carbon from atmospheric circulation and enhancing plant growth and photosynthesis, as well as soil enrichment. A major controversy erupted with objections to Biochar by George Monbiot, involving James Lovelock and James Hansen

(4) Chemical sequestration involving combination of CO2 with sodium hydroxide (NaOH) installed in pipe systems ("Sodium trees"), followed by separation and burial of CO2, costing at about $300 a ton in US dollars. A back-of-an-envelope calculation suggests the reduction of atmospheric CO2 by 50 ppm would cost about $10 trillion to $15 trillion in US dollars, (although mass production may lessen the cost, as well as contribute to employment). That's less than 10 times the global military expenditure in 2007.

Increasingly, a "technological fix" may look attractive to Obama and possibly the EU (and Rudd?), in view of at least three major obstacles to CPRS and ETS schemes:

First, due to the cumulative nature of atmospheric CO2, neither 5/15 percent nor 25/40 percent emission reduction by 2020 relative to 2000 would be able to prevent runaway climate change. This is because CO2 levels, now at 387 ppm and rising by 2 ppm/year, will exceed 400 ppm by 2020, well into the high danger zone. Assuming CO2 emissions are reduced by even 40 percent relative to 2000, it would keep rising by a minimum of 1.2 ppm/year, reaching levels near or above 450 ppm by 2050, and this is without even accounting for the effects of methane, likely reduced CO2 intake by the oceans and increase in positive feedbacks from the biosphere. At 450 ppm, with lag effects, polar ice sheets undergo advanced melting, with consequent major sea level rise. It is not clear how many of the submissions made to the Australian Senate Inquiry into the CPRS take account of this factor.

Second, it is a good question whether even such feeble CPRS attempts would not be squashed by the all-powerful fossil fuel lobby, currently supporting a massive, well-funded disinformation campaign, including claims as if the Earth is "cooling", accusing scientists and environmentalists of "environmental thuggery", including threats such as by Republican Rep. Michelle Bachmann ("I want people in Minnesota armed and dangerous on this issue of the energy tax because we need to fight back. Thomas Jefferson told us, 'Having a revolution every now and then is a good thing,' and the people - we the people - are going to have to fight back hard if we're not going to lose our country. And I think this has the potential of changing the dynamic of freedom forever in the United States." She added, "The science is on our side on this one".

Third, The preoccupation of suburbia international with economic issues. Until people fully understand the implications of runaway climate change, government actions are likely to be restricted within the context of the virtual reality of economic boom-bust bubbles, where greed and fear obscure the physical realities of the environment and of agricultural food production, a consequence of over 60 years of commercial propaganda rendering populations victims of ruthless vested interests at the expense of future generations.

The Wilkins ice shelf collapse is but the latest symptom of fast-melting polar ice. Last year was the first during which the huge (13,680 square kilometers) shelf, which bridges the West Antarctic peninsula with the Charcot and Latady islands, developed fractures during mid-winter. Now advanced Synthetic Aperture Radar (ASAR) images acquired on April 2, 2009, by the European Earth Observation (ESA's) Envisat satellite confirm the ice shelf is collapsing into thousands of ice bergs, removing the barrier for the flow of continental glaciers into the ocean.

Climate geoengineering is fiercely feared and resisted by many scientists and environmentalists, due to the collateral damage and side effects, and because it would take pressure off the carbon polluters. Moreover, that the powers-to-be reached an impasse with CPRS schemes suggests to many a moral bankruptcy of institutions and a failure of democracy. It is likely that only a combination of deep urgent cuts in carbon emissions, coupled with major investments in fast-tracked development of a wide range of effective carbon dioxide draw-down methods, may be capable of making the difference.
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Dr. Andrew Glikson is an Earth and paleoclimate scientist at the Australian National University, Canberra, Australia.

Now, I don't know about you, but we at A.P.R. find this highly disturbing, for a number of reasons. First, our most qualified scientists are essentially saying that there is no hope of reducing CO2 and methane emissions, so more drastic options must be considered. Second, large-scale efforts like these to produce artificial cooling, will still not solve the other problems that increasing CO2 concentrations produce, like oceanic acidification (which could decimate many life-forms in the oceans) and changes in plant growth/response. In addition, even if some of these cooling efforts could work, what unforeseen consequences would they have?

Why do you think the scientific community has basically given up hope that the countries of the World can restrict CO2 and methane emissions enough to prevent an additional 2C or more of global temperature increase? Well, they probably recognize, as we here at A.P.R. do, that the fossil fuel and transportation industries, as well as other related ones, are so powerful, and entrenched in the political systems of most countries, that they will never easily give up their source of profit. Not without immense political and social pressure anyway, very little of which has been seen, in any of the major industrialized nations, and especially the U.S.

Your lead editor was 14 in 1978. I remember very specifically seeing a program on XETV-6 (tv stations in San Diego, if their transmitters were in Mexico, had call-signs beginning with X) then about hydrogen transportation. I have always been interested in alternative energy and technological developments. So, on this program, 31 YEARS AGO, some researchers at a major university had taken a big fat 1977 Chrysler Cordoba, and easily converted it to run on hydrogen gas. A regular gasoline-fueled car, straight from a dealership. All that was done was to put a different storage tank and fuel line in, to the carburetor. The new fuel tank was interesting, it contained a honeycomb of what were called "lithium metal hydrides", which soaked up the gas, and when heated, released it. So, to fill the tank, hydrogen gas was pumped in, and after filling, to run the car, part of the tank was heated, the gas was released, and traveled to the engine. Hydrogen, isn't that explosive? Well, part of the demonstration of this car involved shooting a white-hot tracer bullet into the hydrogen tank. What happened? A little flame, the size of a cigarette lighter's, came out. Most of the gas remained tied up in the metal-hydride honeycomb.

Then, the researchers described in glowing detail, how hydrogen could be produced by splitting water electrically, with electricity generated from renewable resources, like solar plants, or wind farms. Then, a national distribution hydrogen pipeline network could be developed, so that it would be available everywhere, for transportation fueling. Hydrogen-fueled internal combustion engines would emit just water vapor as exhaust, which would eventually "rain-out" in the hydrologic cycle. And since the hydrogen came from water originally, is a renewable resource. Of course, if all engines in a large city ran on it, alot of water vapor would be emitted, and higher humidities, and maybe even more clouds and precipitation could result. What would that do to the climate of Los Angeles? Interesting to speculate.

So, what happened? Why don't we have this? Well, I think it would be safe to say that the oil companies were not going to let something like that occur in the 1970s or 1980s, much less today! How much do you think it would cost to develop a national hydrogen fueling system network, and renewable-energy powered hydrogen generation plants? Hint, it would be a tiny fraction of the several trillion dollars being handed over by our government to the criminally greedy financial industry, to prevent them from having to face the consequences of their actions over the past 15-20 years.

Something interesting has been happening here in Alaska for the past several days.

PUBLIC INFORMATION STATEMENT

NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE FAIRBANKS AK

143 AM AKDT SAT MAY 2 2009

...ANOTHER RECORD WARM DAY AT FAIRBANKS...

YESTERDAY WAS THE 3RD DAY IN A ROW WITH RECORD HIGH TEMPERATURES AT THE FAIRBANKS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. THE HIGH TEMPERATURE OF 76 DEGREES BROKE THE PREVIOUS RECORD OF 75 DEGREES WHICH WAS SET IN 1960. IT WAS ALSO THE 3RD DAY IN A ROW WITH A HIGH TEMPERATURE ABOVE 70 DEGREES. IT IS THE FIRST TIME SINCE 1905 WITH 3 CONSECUTIVE DAYS WITH A HIGH TEMPERATURE ABOVE 70 DEGREES SO EARLY IN THE SEASON.ON AVERAGE...THE FIRST 70 DEGREE DAY IN FAIRBANKS IS NOT OBSERVED UNTIL MAY 22ND. TODAY WILL BE ANOTHER VERY WARM DAY...BUT RECORD HIGHS ARE NOT EXPECTED. THE RECORD HIGH FOR TODAY OF 78 DEGREES WAS ESTABLISHED IN 1995. TEMPERATURES BY EARLY NEXT WEEK ARE EXPECTED TO RETURN TO MORE SEASONABLE LEVELS. AVERAGE HIGH TEMPERATURES DURING THE FIRST WEEK OR MAY ARE IN THE LOW-MID 50S WITH LOWS NEAR FREEZING. $$ CB







A huge upper-level ridge in the jet stream built in over Northwest Canada and Alaska.

You can see it in the above graphic, the 500 millibar analysis. This is a standard parameter meteorologists assess, the height at which the pressure equals 500 millibars, a pressure unit. This is a function of temperature, the colder the airmass, the lower this height is. The height of the 500 mb pressure level is usually around 18,000 feet, so the jet stream is depicted with these charts. The value of 5760 meters, in the center of the ridge, is exceedingly high, the average value over Alaska in late April is usually around 5460 meters, so this is a very warm airmass. And, some years, we may only see this once in the summer, for just a few days, not in April! The above infrared satellite image shows the widespread clearing and dry weather over Alaska and NW Canada with this ridge. The darker black areas are the warmer low-elevation areas with temperatures in the 60s and 70s, 20F or more above average for this time of year.



So what are some of the effects we've been seeing with this amazingly fast warm-up around our area? If you look closely at this birch tree, to the right, near our Chena Ridge Research Centre, it is just beginning to leaf out, or "green-up". I first noticed the buds swelling yesterday, so in only two days, these trees are greening up, which usually doesn't happen until the middle of May.

The view from atop Chena Ridge, near our headquarters, looking down on the large Tanana River, shows an interesting development. First, the

river is already flowing, just a week ago, the ice cover was fairly solid. And, you can see an ice jam there, backing up the water behind, and flooding the banks. This has been happening over the past several days. The rapid warmup has sent snowmelt runoff rapidly into the streams and rivers, lifting and breaking up the ice, which then in certain areas, forms jams, followed by flooding. Another reason we are so glad to have our research centre 500 feet above the valley!

Although, it's not directly related to the warm-up (unless they were trying to escape the valley heat), just before Mattie and I were going to go for our standard 10 mile neighbourhood run today, we had to wait a few minutes. A cow moose and her two yearlings were on the slope above our driveway. I like seeing and interacting with them, and so didn't want to have to chase them away. Mattie of course, at first, wanted to charge out and drive them away, but I held her back. We went out the front door and just watched for about ten minutes.

These cow moose are huge, Mama must have been 8 feet tall, while the calves were easily 6-7 feet tall, but much thinner/lighter.

They just shuffled around, eating grass, and the tender buds on the birch and balsam-poplar trees.

I said hello to them, and with Mattie at my side, kept watching them. I've never had any problems with any of my moose encounters over the years, while running, skiing, or hiking. I always speak soothingly to them, and ask permission to pass.

However, there was one time an adverse incident occurred. One of my friends, who shall remain confidential, was skiing with me on the UAF trails in Dec. 2007. I really like this individual, he's alot of fun, but not at this time. Because when a large cow moose was blocking the top of a hill on the ski trail, he yelled at her! She charged us! We both had to dive off the side of the trail with our skis on, and could have been seriously injured. You never yell at a moose!

Anyway, after about ten minutes, mother and kids ambled across the driveway, and down into the trees, and then Mattie and I began our run in the warm summery 75F sun. She had to thrash around in three puddles on our 90 minute run to stay cool, since she still has her winter coat.

Another thing striking about this warm-up, is how quickly things dried out. This is a trail at the base of Chena Ridge today that we run on in summer. Just one week ago it was covered in 15-20 inches of snow, and was still skiable. The leaf litter and grass in the sunny, south and west-facing slopes, were already dry enough to burn! This does not bode well for the 2009 fire season! However, our weather in Alaska varies so much from month to month, and season to season, that there really is no way of predicting how severe a fire season will be in advance here. If we get well-spaced rains in June and July, which we have the last few years, then large fire growth is hindered.

So, this begs the question, is this strong high pressure ridge and warm-up with record-breaking warmth due to global warming? Well, you can't really say that one specific incident is, since climate is the average of long-term weather, but these kind of events certainly are increasing in frequency, and strength, and will continue to. Here, and in many other areas. Something the poor people in Victoria, Australia, found out on Black Saturday, this past February, the subject of our "Warning Lights are Flashing" post. Cheers.

FREEDOM OF THE HILLS [and] GOOD NEIGHBOUR?

http://www.amazon.com/Mountaineering-Freedom-Hills-Mountaineers/dp/0898868289/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240547758&sr=1-1on.com/Mountaineering-Freedom-Hills-Mountaineers/dp/0898868289/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240547758&sr=1-1

"Mountaineering - The Freedom of the Hills" is the climbers bible. First written in 1960, it covers all the aspects of the sport, from the proper knots to use for roping up, to weather, camping, and food. We here at A.P.R. are about 1/3 of the way through it, hung up right now in the knot section. Besides just reading about it, we need to get out in our local mountains and spend time refreshing our skills, while enjoying the scenery. We only had one day though for a trip into the Alaska Range. My friend Matthew Klick, who is a serious mountaineer, and all-around athlete, told me he had summitted Mt. Silvertip, about 9400 ft., a few weeks ago. It is in the half of the Alaska Range east of Denali National Park. The drive there takes about 2 1/2 hours, 90 min. east to Delta Junction, then an hour south on the beautiful Richardson Highway, which parallels the Delta River as it drains these awesome peaks. The view of Mt. Hayes, above, at 13,832 ft., is always inspiring, as it glistens in it's permanent coat of snow and ice. Even on the hottest of summer days, the free-air freezing levels rarely reach this high, and new snow falls above 8000 feet every month. Matt told me to summit Silvertip, you have to go up the somewhat steep and narrow gulch that Michael's creek is in, (above) to a windswept high valley, backed by a headwall. Then you have to climb the headwall, drop behind it and cross part of Jarvis Glacier, then climb Silvertip. But it is all non-technical, no anchors are needed, and you just need crampons, ice axe, and helmet, and know how to self-arrest with your axe.

This is a picture looking back to Silvertip, from the other side of the Delta River, in April, 2006. When my friend Jeff Gordon and I skied along the river, and into a drainage on the other side, before having to come back in a ground blizzard. But you can see, in the lower right, the canyon Michael's creek is in, with the valley and headwall behind.

We reached the spot where Michael's creek crosses the highway at about 0930, and I put on my metal-edged backcountry classic skis. Above is about a half-mile in, but looking back, the gulch is very narrow and pretty steep. Matt's tracks were still visible, it had not snowed since he was up there, two weeks before. Which was a good thing, as the avalanche potential should therefore be lower, as temperatures had warmed, and in the spring sun, unstable cornices and slabs should have already come down.
Mattie just couldn't get enough of those steep sidewalls, she was up and down them on both sides constantly. Unfortunately, I forgot my climbing skins for my skis, in my rush to get out of the house earlier. For those not in the know, these are felt-like adhesive-backed strips you strap on to the bottom of your skis. They give you strong traction for steep uphill striding, but allow you to glide down, albeit much more slowly than without them. But, without them, in that narrow, icy gulch, I quickly decided it would be treacherous on skis, so ditched them about a half-mile in, and just cramponed up, and took hold of the ice axe. It was somewhat breezy, even at the start, a north wind about 20 mph was blowing in the Delta River canyon, which the highway cuts through, and that wind was funneling up the gulch. About a mile up, we came to the first of three snow slides/avalanches that had come across the gulch. This one happened before Matt's trek, his tracks were visible on it, a good sign for us. This is looking up at an angle toward its source. It was about ten feet thick over the stream, well deep enough for a fatal encounter. I have had some avalanche training over the years in Missoula and Juneau, involving digging snow pits with an expert, as well as reading books, etc.., and am very conscious of the hazards these pose, and the factors that produce them. I knew a very nice man, Rod Sutherland, in Missoula, who I first met at the Univ. of Montana, where he headed the student outdoors program. He died in a small avalanche, much like this one, in the Kootenai Creek canyon, in the Bitterroot mountains, in May, 1997. I hiked in there shortly thereafter, and it was very sad, seeing how small the slide was, and realizing his misfortune to go that way at only 29 years of age. About two miles up, on the north side, we saw this cornice hanging over the steep sidewall. A small slide had already occurred. This is a place not to linger in! With that strong spring sun shining on it, only a matter of time before it drops, and brings much of the snow on the sidewall down with it. We hurried right through there.

About three miles in, we were well above any vegetation, in higher, more exposed terrain around 4000 feet. Being there, with no vegetation in site, surrounded by rock, snow, and ice, with a cold 20F breeze, I thought, cool, we could be in Greenland, or Antarctica, for all we knew. The wind was up to about 25-30 mph, and this was the view back, note the lens-shaped clouds over the high mountains.

These are altocumulus standing lenticular clouds (ACSL for short, in weather-speak). They occur in a stable atmosphere when strong winds ascend up one side of a mountain, or range, cool enough for condensation to occur, then when the air descends and warms on the other side, condensation ends, and the cloud tapers off. Which is why they have the lens shape, and are a sign of strong winds aloft that could pose problems at the surface. This one, above, was over the south sidewall of the canyon, and I wondered what we'd find when we got higher. Well, about an hour later, and just five miles in from the road, at 2500 feet, we reached the windswept valley Matt told us about, at around 5000 feet. The wind was fast and furious, 30-40 mph with stronger gusts, and it was about +15F. More importantly, the top of the headwall was in the clouds, and they were getting a little thicker. We spent about a half-hour here, sizing up the situation, deciding what to do. For some reason, when I tried using my camera for self-portraits, every setting delivered a picture like this, above. Almost like being in another dimension. Which, in a way, we were, in that bare, icy, windswept valley, backed by the cloud-covered headwall. Well, we decided not to make a permanent visit to this other dimension, and turned back. Climbing the headwall, and crossing an unfamiliar glacier while whited out, we reckoned, would do that for us. That was a bit of a bummer, since we were only halfway to our goal, but half the skill of mountaineering, is knowing when to back down, and stay safe. The higher mountains, above 6000 feet in Northwest Canada and Alaska, have some of the potentially deadliest weather of anywhere in the World, all year. Mountains in Norway, which only go up to 8000 feet, and Patagonia which has peaks of 8000-11,500 feet can compare, or the Himalayas above 22,000 feet during the Indian monsoon season. What does that mean? Storm force winds (58 mph or more) and heavy snow possible in every month. And when it's very cold, wind chills on the bottom of the charts (-80 or so).

It's not something we take lightly. On the way back down, the snow and ice covered rocks on the canyon sidewalls were sure beautiful in the sun and shade. I was much more careful on the way down as well. One hazard I was conscious of, was the possibility of punching through snow-bridges covering flowing Michael's creek. There were several I had to cross on the way up and down, under which you could hear the water flowing. Punching straight through several feet onto some rocks could cause serious injury, so we stepped lightly across each one, probing ahead with the ice axe. Fortunately they all held, and I stayed on the sidewalls as much of the time as I could, which was easy, with the crampons on. Six hours after starting up, we came back to my stashed skis. I decided just to carry them, not wanting to get out of control, on that steep, narrow route. Unfortunately, in sunny areas, the snow had turned to ripened spring mush, and I started postholing quite a bit, sometimes at every step. This is when you just fall right through the snow, a foot or more, sometimes it was past my waist. A few times I actually crawled, to spread my weight out more. My knees and hips got pretty sore from just a half-mile of this, so it was a relief when we got back to the car.

But, we were not ready for the day to end, since our summit attempt was weathered out. So, we drove south on the highway 10 miles to Miller Creek. I spied some snow-machine trails lacing up it, and decided to ski in there. It was some of the best skiing I've had all winter! With that bright sun, the mountains all around, and the snow still in good shape, even the 30 mph north wind didn't matter. I skied about five miles up, then the trails ended at the base of the Canwell Glacier, and we turned back. Good stuff. So, after our fun day of hiking, and skiing, we were very energized, and the 2 1/2 hour drive home went by very quickly. This is why we live here! We're going back in there in late June or July, set up base camp in the 5000 ft. valley, and then just climb all around for a few days.

GOOD NEIGHBOUR ?

I came across this article several days ago on the Commondreams.org web-site. This incident occurred at the Summit of the Americas, where heads of state from all the western Hemisphere countries met, except Cuba, which the U.S. has insisted upon excluding, since 1962.

"PORT of SPAIN - Venezeulan President Hugo Chavez has vowed to seek closer ties with the US and is considering taking steps to send an ambassador to Washington after the countries expelled each others' envoys last year.

Book beginnings: President Obama (left) shakes hands with President Chavez and points at his gift copy of Uruguayan historian Eduardo Galeano's book. Photo: AFP

Mr Chavez said he spoke with US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, marking a change from his approach to diplomacy with the administration of George Bush, whom Mr Chavez once likened to the devil.
"I feel great optimism, and the best goodwill to move forward," Mr Chavez said after a meeting between US President Barack Obama and presidents from the Union of South American Nations in Port of Spain, Trinidad and Tobago.
"I have no doubt that there will be, going forward, greater closeness."

Acting State Department spokesman Robert Wood said Mr Chavez had approached Mrs Clinton at the meeting and they discussed returning ambassadors to their respective posts in Caracas and Washington.

"This is a positive development that will help advance US interests, and the State Department will now work to further this shared goal," Mr Wood said.

Venezuela, the fourth-biggest foreign supplier of crude oil to the US, has repeatedly accused Americans of aiding the political opposition to Mr Chavez, a former paratrooper.
In 2002, Mr Chavez charged the Central Intelligence Agency with masterminding a brief coup against him.

Mr Chavez, who last month called Mr Obama an "ignoramus" when it comes to Latin America, gave Mr Obama a copy of Uruguayan historian Eduardo Galeano's book Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent.

When asked by reporters at the Fifth Summit of the Americas whether he planned to read the book, Mr Obama, who doesn't speak Spanish, joked: "I thought it was one of Chavez's. I was going to give him one of mine."

Mr Chavez regularly accused former president Bush of trying to destabilise his Government, and in a 2006 speech to the United Nations called him "the devil". In September, Mr Chavez expelled US ambassador Patrick Duddy to show solidarity with Bolivia, which had also kicked out its US envoy.

Mr Obama said he recognised that it would take time to improve relations with Latin America, which he said felt neglected by the Bush administration.

Other Latin American critics of the US were less enthusiastic about the nation's new President.
Bolivia's Evo Morales, a former coca grower who has clashed with the US since taking office in 2006, said "policies of conspiracy" had not changed under Mr Obama.

"If there is a real change, a change in economic policy, and if there are relations based on mutual respect, it will be better," Mr Morales said. "We can't go back to the past."

Nicaragua's Daniel Ortega two days ago greeted Mr Obama with a 50-minute speech that included harangues about "Yankee troops" and the 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion. Mr Ortega said Mr Obama wasn't responsible for President John Kennedy's misadventure. "I'm grateful that President Ortega didn't blame me for things that happened when I was three months old," Mr Obama said."

This is great news! And much needed, as the history of the U.S.'s role in Central and South America is a very dismal one indeed. Where to start... Let us just say for now, that on the "Walk of Shame" that I described in an early post, on the Higgins Street Bridge in Missoula, documenting all of the U.S.'s subversions and interventions in other countries since 1900, contained many South American countries. Millions of people have been affected in those countries when our government over the past decades either directly intervened and brought into power repressive, fascist governments, or provided covert support to make that happen. Governments that tortured and murdered sometimes hundreds of thousands of people in each country for being suspected "leftists". Facts not lost to the people in those countries. The worst were Chile (1973), Argentina (1965-1985), and all the Central American countries (1914-1932, 1952-1992). The politicians who supported these policies, some Democrats included, knew what those governments would and were doing to their people, and so in our view, are just as guilty of murder as the actual torturers. Politicians like Henry Kissinger (who would be arrested if he were to travel to Spain!). Retired USMC Brigadier General Smedley Butler, in his amazing 1930 expose, "War is a Racket" (which should be standard reading for everyone), documented many Central American interventions in the 1910s, which he was a part of.

But there was a time, when FDR was in power, when relations were temporarily better with Latin America, and it was known as the "Good Neighbor Policy".

"Main Impacts of Good Neighbor Policy
Boom in hemispheric trade and accompanying economic recovery.
End to U.S. military interventions and occupations; no more U.S. Marines dying in Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, or Nicaragua.
Hemispheric unity behind the United States and against the Axis powers.
Dramatic decline in the demeaning stereotyping of Latinos by the U.S. government,

media, and entertainment industry."

http://ggn.irc-online.org/neighbor/99.html

Now that more left-leaning governments have freely and fairly been elected into power throughout the region in the past ten years (in fact, the only real right-wing countries left now are Mexico and Colombia), there is no going back. Led by Brazil, Venezuela, and Bolivia, regional economic, military, and energy production ties are increasing in Central and South America. It would be very beneficial for the U.S., and those countries, if it supported those efforts. So, it is imperative that this country ceases meddling in the affairs of others in support of corporate profits and the old European oligarchies who still cling to their wealth gained at the expense of the indigenous populations in their countries. After all, it was a documented consortium of mult-national corporations who pushed the Nixon administration to support the fascists in Chile, before their 1973 coup, as well as during and after it (see my "Is It 9/11 Already?" post).

What would we think, if some European countries, or Russia, or China, were supporting the Republican party, or any other, forcing an undemocratic system on us. Well, that is what has happened from Mexico south from the U.S. government. It would be good if those days are over.

Cheers.

STAGE ONE [and] EAT THAT VIEW!

It seems like a summiting of North America's highest point, Denali, 20,320 feet (6195 m) will be in the works for your lead author, sometime in the next few years. Our good friend Erik has been drifting toward mountaineering lately, and we here at A.P.R. are getting caught up in his enthusiasm and are already in the planning stages for a climb. I don't know if any canids have made the ascent, but I know your intrepid assistant editor Mattie would love to join us, and if it is allowed, she'll be there.

The first stage for such an undertaking is safe glacier travel, part of which entails being able to haul oneself or another member of a climbing party to safety, in the event of a crevasse fall.

Although we've undertaken some limited glacier excursions in the past, there's no substitute for expert instruction to keep mountain/glacier travel as safe as possible. To this end, Erik learned about the Alaska Mountaineering School, and the courses they offer, a few months ago (http://www.climbalaska.org/), and we signed up for the April 11/12 Glacier Travel and Crevasse Rescue course, offered on the Matanuska glacier, 80 miles east of Anchorage, in the Chugach Range. Based in the groovy climbing/tourist mecca of Talkeetna, AMS has been around for over 30 years, and is a top-notch operation, providing all manner of mountaineering courses and guided expeditions.

Erik and I rented a cabin fri. at Majestic Mountain Lodge, a beautiful resort 15 miles east of the glacier, with ski trails around the valley, surrounded by sharp, icy peaks. I went for a nice skate ski, and Eric a run, that evening. Saturday morning, we showed up at 0800 for our course, at the glacier parking area. This is what the AMS web-site has to say about this course:(http://climbalaska.org/wshop-glacier.html)

"The first morning is spent teaching basic knots, wearing a harness, using crampons, self-arrest position, placing ice screws, and building anchors. After a lunch, we practice rope coiling, belaying, and stacking for glacier travel. Students break into rope teams and practice traveling and route finding skills. Next we move into simulated crevasse fall scenarios from simple assistance to raising systems, all on flat terrain.

The morning of the second day is spent at a cliff lowering "victims" over the edge so they can practice fixed-line ascension while the rescuers set up hauling systems. The afternoon is spent roping up for glacier travel in 2, 3, and 4 person teams and incorporating extras such as sleds. The exact itinerary will depend on conditions and instructor preference."

The Matanuska glacier is one of the few in Alaska that is not in fast recession. Because it has a very high source region, over 12,000 feet, unlike many of the others in the state. It has retreated back about a half-mile in the past 30 years, and thinned at the edge somewhat, but hasn't retreated nearly as much as many of the lower-elevation source glaciers, like the Mendenhall near Juneau, or Portage, east of Girdwood. Here is a summer picture I took of it in August, 2006.

There was still plenty of snow around this past sat., when we arrived just before 0800. It was plenty chilly as well, about 18 deg. with a stiff breeze. We stayed quite cool the first two hours as we met our instructors, the other students, and then had some basic glaciology. Knot tying began by 0900, and doing that for over an hour with gloves off, made for some cold hands. I had learned many of these knots years ago when I was a firefighter/medic at Chena Goldstream Fire-Rescue in my Chena Ridge neighborhood, but had forgotten them in the years since. The prussik, figure 8 on a bight, figure 8 follow-through, double fishermans, and munter, were among the ones we practiced that morning. The prussik is especially valuable, it allows you to attach a short section of rope attached to your body, to the main climbing rope. When you put a load on it, it tightens up and prevents movement. But if it is loosened, you can slide it up and down the main rope. So it is used for ascending and descending on the main rope, in case you fall into a crevasse.

After our knot-tying, we headed in toward the glacier. A short way in, a picnic table marks the point where untrained/ungeared people are urged not to continue. There we put on our crampons, helmets, and ice axes, and walked in just about a half-mile further over the glacier to a small frozen lake. On the way in, our instructors gave us basic crampon instruction, how to step efficiently without tearing up our pants, and self-arrest procedure. This is if you start sliding or falling down a slope or into a crevasse. You must fall/slide onto your shoulder, and dig the ice axe in to the ice, and hopefully come to a stop.

We spent the rest of the first day at this area, learning about anchoring procedures, and then how to rope up in teams of three or four, for glacier travel. The jumbled forms of seracs behind us provided for interesting scenery. Seracs are large chunks of ice that fall off the edge of the glacier as it moves. Great danger exists near these, but we stayed well back. Many lives have been lost on glaciers world-wide, in the icefall areas on their terminus, from seracs falling.

We had three instructors, Nick, a 25-30 yr. old student at AK Pacific Univ. in Anchorage, who has been guiding/instructing for 2 years, Melis, a really sweet 30 yr. old or so woman from Talkeetna, who has over 10 years experience (with many Denali summits), and Greg, about my age, who lives in McCarthy and has many years of guiding/instructing experience with AMS and in the Wrangell mountains.

Here Nick is showing us how to make a three-point anchor in the ice. First you make two V-threads, holes bored in the ice with an ice screw, in which rope is threaded through. An ice anchor makes for the third point at the top. This anchor is made to attach the climbing rope to, in case a crevasse rescue is necessary. The two or three on the rope team not in the crevasse need to anchor the climbing rope to the mountain, so they can detach, check on the victim, and begin preparing to haul them in.

The end of the first day, we roped up in teams of three or four, and headed out, back to the parking area. The heaviest members of the team are put in the middle, with lighter ones in front (meaning I'm almost always up front!) or in back. This is because the front person is usually the one to fall in to a crevasse, so the heaviest person right behind should be able to arrest their fall without any additional aid. Then the person behind them can begin making an anchor to transfer the weight of the victim to the mountain/glacier.

We all had a great time our first day, and the sun came out in the afternoon, making for beautiful scenery.

Quick, what is this? Modern art in downtown Anchorage? The Arctic Ocean from space? No, just a frozen puddle at the glacier's terminus last sunday morning. Interesting how something so mundane can be surprisingly interesting/beautiful.

Easter Sunday, the second day of our course, dawned sunny, and a little warmer, with no wind. Beautiful. We started the day roping up in our teams, then heading in to near the same area as the day before. Then we set up three point anchors in an ice slope, and threw the rope over a 25 ft. ice ledge. Here is where we practiced our ascending/descending on the main rope, as if we had to haul ourselves up from a crevasse fall (assuming we were not injured).

To ascend/descend, a rope foot-prussik is used on one of our legs, and a mechanical ascending tool is used in one of our hands. The foot-prussik is just a short section of 6.5mm cord with a loop for your foot, attached to the climbing rope by a prussik knot. When you put your weight down, the prussik knot tightens around the main rope and you can step up. Then you can slide the ascender in your hand up the rope. Then, you can lift your leg up, loosen the prussik, slide it up, then step back down, etc... Thus, you ascend up the rope. It goes surprisingly fast. It only seemed like a minute or so for me as I zipped up the rope on the ice ledge. Descending is just the opposite procedure.

Here we all are having a go on the rope ascending and descending. Erik is just to the right of me, heading up.

Another anchoring technique we learned was to use pickets in snow. Pickets are t-shaped aluminum bars in different lengths, ours were 18". You anchor these in to snow either vertically (if it is deep enough) or horizontally, with rope attached. If the snow is packed down enough, they can be surprisingly strong, and able to take the load off the rope team so the crevasse victim can be hauled up. The snow in our area wasn't very deep or hard, so it was a test trying to get that done. The last thing we did Sunday afternoon before roping up for the walk out, was practicing an actual crevasse fall rescue scenario. First Melis, Nick, and Greg did one for us, then we split up into teams, and did it ourselves.

A pack attached to a climbing rope, to simulate a victim, was thrown over the ice ledge, with two or three people behind. Then, the closest person to the edge had to arrest the fall, while the person(s) behind had to make sure the one ahead was holding, while they detached, and built an anchor (though we built the anchors first, to make things faster/simpler). Once the anchor was in, the person near the edge arresting the fall could slowly detach, and then the team could rig up the line with a pulley for added mechanical advantage, to aid in hauling in the victim. That was fun, learning all those steps, and there's alot to it, many different knots and attachment procedures, etc.. Something that definitely needs to be practiced.

After we all went through these scenarios, we roped back up for our trip back. Once we got back to the parking area, we returned all the gear we borrowed, filled out course evaluations, and thanked our instructors. They were all very supportive and professional, and we came away with valuable knowledge, that will make for safe, and efficient glacial travel, as we journey through our vast alpine areas here in Alaska.

What is stage two? http://climbalaska.org/mtc-12day.html That will be our 12-day AMS mountaineering course, which Erik and I will take next year. This will teach us all the essentials for safe and effective mountaineering, which we'll use in stage three, the actual Denali ascent. When will that be? Well, if not 2010, certainly 2011. We want to do it ourselves, with a few others, and not have to spend many thousands of dollars for guides. We'll need to build up some more mountaineering experience first. If any of you out there are interested in joining us, let us know!

EAT THAT VIEW!

http://www.commondreams.org/view/2009/03/26-1

I came across the above article a few weeks ago, about the organic vegetable garden Michelle Obama is developing, on part of the White House Lawn. Of course, it is from an English paper, not the U.S. You all know how we here at A.P.R. feel about the U.S. mass media. Enough said.

What an interesting development, and what great symbolism. You would never have seen anything like this in a Republican administration. Let's roll back the years a little. I am old enough to remember when Jimmy Carter use to give fireside chats from the White House in the 1970s, in a sweater, urging people to conserve energy. He actually installed solar panels on part of the White House roof. When Reagan came in, those were dismantled, as were many governmental research programs and funding for alternative energy. Nothing of the nature of Carter's or Ms. Obama's undertakings occurred at the White House from 1981 until this year.

Planting the Seeds of a Revolution
by Ellen Goodman
"You have to admit that this gives new meaning to the idea of a "shovel-ready project." There are now 1,100 square feet on the South Lawn of the White House being transformed into a kitchen garden. If Americans follow the first family's lead, the seed pack will become the new stimulus package. At least we'll have something to do with those pitchforks after the AIG bonus babies surrender their money.

I tip my hat to the first lady since my own rookie season in the green league opened when my daughter was Sasha's age. It began with a lust for real tomatoes and a horror that she would grow up thinking cucumbers sprung full grown, cellophane wrapped and adorned with stickers from the supermarket womb.

I soon discovered that having a garden is like having a pet. (Obamas beware!) You start out dreaming about puppies and you end up wielding a pooper scooper. You start out planning for snap peas and you end up pulling weeds. You also get hooked.

The image of Michelle Obama surrounded by fifth-graders digging into the White House dirt gave heart to locavores everywhere.

The idea of an edible landscape was fertilized by left coast chef Alice Waters and food guru Michael Pollan. But it was Roger Doiron, a modest Zone 6 gardener - my kind of guy - and head of Kitchen Gardeners International who began a lettuce-roots campaign last year to "Eat the View" at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

Now spring has sprung and we have the first mom getting her hands dirty in the attempt to get children to eat their vegetables.

But there is something else about the incredible edible project that also makes me do a fist bump. The Obamas aren't just eating the view, they are eating the lawn.

What Michelle and the kids and the crew did the other day was to drive a shovel right into the heart of that American icon: the lawn. They literally took the most pampered lawn in America, dumped it in the wheel barrel, and carted it away. All that was missing was a chorus of "This lawn is your lawn."

Is it possible that along with local, organic food, the First Garden can promote the thoroughly subversive idea that this symbol has seen its day?

I am not the only one who looks at lawns - including my own - as a populist enemy. The low grassy surface has its roots in the English aristocracy, among folks who had so much food and land they didn't have to farm it, they only had to display it.

Today, lawns cover 40 million acres, making them the largest agricultural sector in America. They consume 270 billion gallons of water a week, or enough for 81 million acres of organic vegetables. They suck up $40 billion a year on seed, sod, and chemicals, leading one historian to compare them to "a nationwide chemical experiment with homeowners as the guinea pigs."

We mow the lawn, we fertilize it, we pesticize it, we water it, for the absurd purpose of keeping this useless patch in a deliberate state of arrested development.

"It's actually devouring resources and polluting and happening in the most visible parts of our community - the vacant land between the house and the street," says Fritz Haeg, creator of the Edible Estates project, whose goal is to begin replacing the domestic front lawn with what he calls "full frontal gardening."

This may be a fertile time for change. During the housing bubble, people thought of their homes as an ATM or a transient way station. If we settle into a view of home as a place we nurture ourselves, we may have a grass-roots anti-grass movement.

I don't want to get carried away. The last White House occupants to eat the lawn were Woodrow Wilson's sheep. As a gardener, I begin every new term with high hopes and end up with tomato hornworms, a creature that makes the Very Hungry Caterpillar look anorexic.

Moreover, the White House garden is likely to produce a bumper crop of metaphors.
I can imagine the first Fox News report on the cost of each leaf of spinach. I can imagine when Miriam's Soup Kitchen begs the Obamas to stop sending over zucchini - HELP! Or the first time one of their cultivated bees stings a foreign leader.

But then again, the First Gardeners are in the first 100 days. We never did promise them a rose garden."
© 2009 The Boston Globe

Just the fact that the White House garden is organic sends a powerful message. That they want what's best for their children, and that they know organic produce is. As well that to grow one's own food, even if it's just a small portion, is rewarding on many levels. While A.P.R. is in much despair lately, over the control that the Wall Street criminals are exerting over the Obama adminstration's economic and foreign policy, we revel in this small, symbolic development.

In fact, with the dire state of the economy, we recommend that everyone "Eats Their View", i.e., digs up that environmentally disastrous lawn, the effluents of which are helping to create dead zones in the Gulf of Mexico and other offshore areas. Replace it with an organic garden, just the work involved in the fresh air will be good for you, not to mention the fruits of your labor.

We here at A.P.R. decided never to have a lawn when we moved in to our new Chena Ridge research centre in March, 2006, and instead have planted dozens of fruit and ornamental trees, and raspberries. This year, we are putting in a raised bed garden, probably about a 15 ft. by 25 ft. or so box, with added topsoil. We can't get too fancy in our planting, the moose will eat tender tasty things like carrots, radishes, spinach, etc... But potatoes, onions, and whatever else we can plant that they will leave us will be in (we know they love pumpkins, so those are out). And with the economy still heading into the dump, any moves toward self-suffiency can't be a bad thing.

I remember fondly my maternal grandmother on their farm on Cooper Mountain, above Beaverton, Oregon. She and my grandfather raised 13 children on their 53 acres of fruit orchards, and grew all their own food. She used a wood-burning kitchen cook-stove until the day they left the farm in 1975. That kitchen was so hot on those long summer days while her and the older kids canned and put up food for the coming winter. Will we have to go back to that? Can we? Certainly living more like that would be good for all of us. Cheers.