The gardens

This is my third year of trying to grow some summer flowers in the yard. The lilac bush in the front yard is one of several in the neighborhood. It is shaded by the large spruce and cottonwood trees behind it, so it doesn't bloom as quickly as its cousins across the street at the neighbors house. But when it does come into flower, the scent permeates the yard and the house.


You can see how the electric utility had dug a long trench through the yard; luckily they were good guys and spared the lilac bush. Part of their contract is to replant the lawn and repair the fence, probably better than it was originally!!! The side of the house has a narrow, foot-wide flower garden, but the dogs have dug up the flowers over the years, so I put up a little white lattice fence. This summer I planted some petunias, and one dahlia. But, being gone so much, I let the chickweed encroach, and this is the result. A tiny petunia poking up through the chickweed. I have since weeded the garden, and wish I still had chickens to feed. Delphiniums from last year regrew this spring. I took one inside, but it hasn't prospered, so I'm leaving it outside this winter and hoping for the best. These beautiful yellow blossoms are currently too high, and the cat just broke one in half, so now I have a flower for the table. The rhubarb is flourishing. I've harvested it for pies: last week I cooked a rhubarb and strawberry pie for company. It was a big hit!!! Last year I froze a ton of the rhubarb and used it during the winter for additional pies. I've not tried jam, but I'm sure it would be great; maybe this winter. Just beyond the rhubarb among the butter and eggs sit about six transplanted chive plants. Not too evident in the photo, but I'm hoping that next summer they will go hog wild so I can harvest them for cooking.
And just right of the chives grows the huge pile of lilies.

They were spectacular this year. A gob of mint is cropping up around and within them. It makes nice tea and mojitos, but I have too much. Need to find more uses or thin it out.














Out in the front yard grow two giant ferns. Along side of them I planted the two geraniums I saved indoors from last year. They had a difficult time adjusting to the out-of-doors this year, but are blooming beautifully now. I bought some pansies and some petunias to add color, but this year wild geraniums and other wild flowers started to spring up. They were so beautiful that I vowed to plant only local plants next year. This fall I'll collect seeds from the roadside and get daisies, lupine, and other wild species to color the landscape, rather than the exotics.


















The photos don't do justice to the color of the flowers.

Bike vendors

I rode the "Loop" last night from my home down the Chester Creek trail through town to Westchester Lagoon, where I stopped for a moment to make a call. As I was sitting on the bench, a family arrived with a candy wagon pulled by a small girl's bike. The girls and their dad had made the cart the previous day. They were from Seward, AK, and the girls were making money for their school. I loved the entrepreneurial spirit: the two girls, mom, and the dad were all involved and so excited to be doing something constructive as a family.

Bristol Bay

At the age of 65, the world of the ocean and commercial fishing opened to me. I was riding my fixe to dinner at Mark Langdon's place, when Rebecca Chase called to ask if I'd like to go commercial fishing in Bristol Bay. A day later I was on Penn Air flying to King Salmon with a small duffel, including my Extra Tuffs, a dozn Atlas rubber gloves, and Helly Hanson rain gear. A quick taxi ride in Martha's taxi to Naknek brought me to the Leader Creek Fishery headquarters where I waited for the next tender to take me out to Steve Lewis' 27' aluminum boat, the "Red Magic" fishing the mouth of the Ugashik river 65 miles southeast of Naknek in Bristol Bay.

The tender was an old wooden boat, the "Randi Lynn", with huge aluminum tanks set on the front of the ship which held 250,000 lbs of fish in refrigerated insulated water. A series of booms would lift the bags of fish into the holds from the fishing boats. As I boarded the vessel, it was disgorging its contents into the cannery just up the hill from the Leader Creek Fishery headquarters in Naknek. A small boat with a huge compressor and suction system sucked the fish out of the hold and shot them up the hill to the cannery. The boat was appropriately named "The Boomer" because it made a huge boom every couple of minutes as air was depleted out of the giant suction tanks. We got underway at the next tide, about 5am, and headed downriver to the fuel barge set in the river. It held about 1,000,000 gallons of diesel fuel; the tender put on 3,500 gal. of fuel, and we set of for the Ugashik fishery. The crew was Tom, the captain from Seward, his daughter, and Mick, his only helper. Together the three of them managed the whole ship, including fixing the two Detroit diesel drive engines, the 6cyl Detroit diesel compressor engine, and the Isuzu ship's electric engine. Several times, the engines ran out of fuel because we were so low, and Tom & Mick would have to prime the injectors and do other repairs to get us going. It is amazing to see people with such a broad range of skills manage everything.

We passed a fleet of fishing boats delivering their loads to tenders, who then transferred the fish to "Processor" boats, tied next to "Trampers" which stored the fish for transport all over the world. Here's a photo of the process: A tender, tied to a processor on each side of a tramper:

We arrived at the Ugashik about 10 am, and they delivered me to the Red Magic, where I met Steve Lewis, his daughter Daisy, and her boyfriend Ben. Steve is a 3rd generation and life-long commercial fisherman from Petersburg, Alaska. Daisy is a RN, helping her father in the summer; and Ben is an environmental interpreter, making money for the year. The Red Magic had 9 insulated and refrigerated holds in the front deck for the red salmon we would catch. At the rear of the deck a large pneumatic pump driven wheel held the three shackles of nets, about 900' in length. We immediately started fishing, laying the net out the back of the boat. After a short time, Steve called us all to start pulling the fish out of the nets.

Steve, with infinite patience taught me the tricks of getting the salmon out of the gill net as quickly as possible. A small tool with a razor blade on the butt end, and a right angle hook at the top would either cut a strand of the net or pull the net over the body of the fish. By always grabbing the fish by the back of the head, and then pulling the netting out of the gills with the forefinger, or otherwise disengaging the head first, the fish would slip instantly out of the net. Steve was a master, able to extricate the fish almost instantly. I felt like a duffer, as the fish were sometimes caught in the net and rolled up, netting all over them. Steve would grab the fish from me and have them out in seconds. After a few hours of this effort I was feeling good about my newly developing skills, but the fish were slow to come out, and time after time, Steve would grab the fish from me and pull it from the net to save time. Time was of the essence, since this was his livelihood; the more salmon he could get each day, the more money.

It was beautiful work and reminded me of how much I love Alaska. It was part of the real Alaska I remembered from Denali Park, Kotzebue, and Port Alsworth. The huge ships, hundreds of fishing boats, and the bustle of commercial fishing activity brought back great memories and made me want to be part of it again.

On the second day, while I was pulling fish from the nets, I slipped on the deck and dislocated my right arm. Steve told me to take a break, and I went to the cabin, lay on the bed with my arm down and tried to relocate it by holding onto a 5-gal jug of water. No such luck, so Steve drove the boat the the closest tender to take me back home for medical attention.

We motored over to the Blazer, a dungeness crab boat. I climbed over the rail, and was led into the bunk by the crew, where I hung my injured arm over the edge, then turned on my back with my arm in the air to keep the pain down. I reached the top bunk, grabbed hard and tried to pull my arm back into its socket. After a couple of hours, I decided to do a classic gymnastic dislocation move, so I continued holding onto the bunk, got up, twisted my arm around until it was dislocated, then slowly relocated it back into its socket. It worked. Now, with very little pain, and the shoulder feeling normal, I lay in the bunk and rested. A few hours later, Dave, the captain and owner of the boat invited me into the wheelhouse, where I would spend the next twelve hours as we loaded the 156,000 lbs of red salmon and return to Naknek. The boat was 74 feet long, and carried the saga of the sea. Dave had been a crabber for 25 years. Until recently he had owned a 141 foot crabber and had worked the king crab out of Dutch Harbor, but with a wife and kids, wanted to spend more time at home, so he sold the big boat, bought a smaller one, and worked several seasons and spent more time in Reno where he lived. We motored back to Naknek, arriving the next morning. I thanked the crew, hopped up to King Salmon, and within the half hour was on a plane back to Anchorage.

It was sad feeling to be leaving the fishing fleet after such a short stint, more like a dream than reality. It was another adventure I thought I'd never have, but would go back in a second.

Seward Highway

The cliffs along Seward Highway south of Anchorage has been honored with the designation, "One of the five worst cragging areas in the U.S." I used to see quite a few folks there, but the numbers seem to have diminished over the years. Patricia and I hit the highway for an afternoon of cragging on the choss. I hadn't been out there in years and had forgotten how much fun even metamorphic junk rock could be. The location is beautiful, right next to Turnagain Arm, second highest tide in the world, with views of the Kenai peninsula across the water. Lots of road noise is a minus. Because the wind was blowing down Turnagain Arm at about 40 knots, we stopped at the sheltered 5.5 Crack group of climbs.

We worked the climbs from north to south. Patricia is honed and it showed in her climbing. She led up aggressively and we ticked off a number of climbs before dinner called.

Foggy Hike

Yesterday, Will Garner and I took a hike up Mile Hi Road in Eagle River, Alaska. The road switchbacks up for quite a ways, and shortly before the end, an obvious parking site with "State Park" signs indicates the start of the trailhead. It's a relatively new link of trail up to Mile Hi pass. It was a foggy, cloudy day, and I thought it would eventually clear up, but just in case we took jackets and cool-weather clothing. I had been dogsitting "Beasley", my friend Terrie's English setter. Twenty minutes of uphill work brought us to the pass, where we turned right, east up the ridge to Mount Majestic and beyond. In just a few minutes we had climbed into the clouds. Except for a few brief moments, we didn't see the valley again. Never could we see the peaks in front of us. Will and I talked nonstop all day, covering everything from the variety of flowers blooming, to the lack of wildlife (we only saw a couple of magpies), to the hundreds of hikes we still wanted to take this summer. It took about 45 minutes to climb to the top where a large 4" pipe had once been anchored. We continued on for another 45 minutes to the highest summit we could find. At this point, we had enjoyed every minute, and felt if we turned back, it had been a successful day. We kept the ridge in front of us, and the steep cliffs on our left and headed down, not being able to see more than 50 yards ahead. Finally at the saddle, Eagle River valley appeared below us, and we made our way back down to the cell tower and our car.
Photos posted at: http://picasaweb.google.com/ralph.tingey/HikingMajestic62308

DENALI PATROL

Daryl Miller called last month and asked if I would join him on his last patrol on Denali as the South District Ranger. What are friends for? Of course; and since it's one of my favorite places on earth, the answer was obvious and instant.

6/4/08, Wednesday. I trove to Talkeetna early in the morning, arriving at 8 am and met the rangers working at the station: John Leonard, Roger Robinson, Davey Kreutzer, Pam Robinson, Miriam Valentine, Maureen McLaughlin, Missy Smothers, and Al Gallo at the front desk. Buck Tilton from Lander, Wyoming, was another member of Dary's patrol. Buck is the author of many books on wilderness medicine and the outdoors, and creator of the Wilderness Medicine Institute. John Evans, a former ranger in Talkeetna, but now a guide and teacher for Alaska Mountaineering School.

After arranging the gear, we drove to Talkeetna Air Taxi, and flew up to the base camp with Tom(?). We set up the tent, arranged our gear, and settled in for the patrol.

6/5/08 Thursday. Next door to the Ranger tent is the Air Taxi tent, staffed by Lisa Roderick and Mark Westman. I had met Mark 11 years ago on Mount Rainier while investigating a mountaineering accident there. In the meantime, Mark has gone on to climb a tremendous list of difficult mountaineering routes in the Denali area.

In front of the ranger tent is a cache and some lawn chairs, so we hung out there regularly. This evening I was enjoying the evening sun when a very tall Norwegian skied up Heartbreak Hill and into camp. His name was Steinar... Without taking off his harness or pack, he asked when the next plane left. Lisa told him it was just a few minutes out and asked how many in the party and where they were. I heard one member was Finnish, so I went to meet her. Her name was Urpu, but she was not interested in flying out yet and wanted to wait until the next day. Urpu and Steinar had made the summit, but only he wanted to leave. So I spoke Finnish to her for several hours in the ranger kitchen area while she made a fish stew from a "mountain-house-like" packet of freeze dried food. I made her a salad while she talked. They were both glacier guides in Northern Norway. She was originally from Finland, but had lived in Norway for 10 years.

6/06/08 Friday. At noon, John Evans and I hiked/skied to the base of the Control Tower to take a look at the possibilities for John to teach a group of students on the rock and ice there. John stepped into a crevasse right near the rock, there was a lot of potential for rockfall and for icefall, so we gave up and skied back to camp. In the afternoon the 17-thousand foot patrol skied into camp. Tom Schaefer, Shelly Higgins, Zah Springer, and Brandon Latham. The members of Brandon's patrol were all from Crested Butte and knew each other. Shelly has been a nurse for 5 years in Gunnison and called herself a "powder princess"; some ski patrol; and all had cool, state-of-the-art skiis. Shelly had Karhu "Liz" skiis with 100mm under foot, with Dynafit bindings...a great set-up. Brandon had BD "Vroom" skiis with G3 Telemark bindings. This was the crew who rescued the climber from the Peters Glacier who had fallen unobstructed for 800 meters. He was completed bruised, but managed to call out on a satellite phone. Ranger crews responded and raised him from the Peters to the top of the 16K ridge, then lowered down the fixed lines to 14K. It was an incredible raising and lowering job. Brent Okita, a guide, helped enormously according to the crew. Everyone had been very concerned looking for two missing Japanese climbers on the Cassin Ridge the previous week. No sign was found and their fate is unknown. They were climbing at the same time with another group of three Japanese. Here's the link to a story of the second Japanese team who climbed the hard routes on Denali.
http://www.climbing.com/news/hotflashes/japanese_warmed_up_on_new_alaskan_testpiece/

6/07/08 John Leonard patrol arrived, with Paul Nelson, John Leonard, Brandon, Rocco, Skeet Glatterer, M.D., and Ian, an NPCA photographer.
Got up at 6am, climbed the Control Tower with John Evans. Stepped in a crevasse on the way down; we were roped up and John was belaying as I crossed it. Met several expeditions and schools around the camp. There was a big party in the evening with Paul Roderick at Lisa and Mark's place. He flew in his sister-in-law, mom, 2 kids and wife Whitney. The weather was warm, clear, and calm. John Evans departed on the plane in the evening.

6/08/08 Sunday. Several groups amass at Base Camp, including Merrick Johnson and her fiance Steven. They wanted to climb the Cassin Ridge, but no dice. They were planning an engagement party the next Sunday in Anchorage at her parents' Alan and Jennifer's home, and they couldn't miss it. Talked with Steve House who was on Denali with a client. They tried the Cassin, and did the Upper West Rib. John Leonard cooked chicken on the grill for dinner. The planes finally made it in in the late afternoon and hauled out all the waiting climbers.

6/09/08 Monday. Took a tour of camp with Daryl. Met the Japanese party who put up the weather station at 14K in 1990. Met the man who took over lowering when our party brought down the 4 Japanese who had endured a terrible night on the Football Field and lost one companion. Met Richard, a guide for American Alpine Institute on a 6-day course. Met Peter Inglis with Mountain Trip, a friend of Charlotte Fox from Telluride. Met Valeria Orioli, Christina, and two friends who had tried the West Buttress. Zack Schlosar led a Mountain Trip expedition. Renny Jackson called with jack Tackle and Ron Johnson from the Tetons. Great to hear from them. Called Suzy Wooliver. Judy Alderson got the Lowell Thomas WAward. Met Mark Postal, a guide for AMS, coming off Denali. Met Todd Passy, guiiding off Denali. He's married to Winslow Passey, and they are both guides on Denali, coming from Salt Lake City, live at the mouth of the canyons there. There was a bit of excitement when a false alarm went off from a "Spot" transmitter on the 16K ridge. Two teams went to check it out: one from 14K camp, and Mik Shain and crew from the summit of Denali. Turns out the gizmo must have been bumped. Joe Reichert was at home having dinner with Dexter Hale and his family. Colby Combs and Rob Geller were supposed to come in with steaks, but didn't make it. John leonard sent salmon with Ruth, the SCA on a Beaver garbage flight. Bill, the TAT pilot got fogged in, so he had dinner with us, then got a break in the clouds and got out. Lisa Roderick gave me a Kahiltna Slush. It was 32 degrees at 9:30pm, beautiful, foggy evening.

6/10/08 Tuesday.

Overcast, foggy, and no plane until evening. Johnathan of TAT flew his "Pacer" out. He and friends had come in a week ago and parked the plane next to the fuel tent, headed out for Kahiltna Dome, and were now back at midnight, digging all night to uncover the plane's skiis and wheels from the frozen snow. He just sneaked out, then returned for a second load. Paul flew in with the breen Beaver, then Bill with the Otter. I went around camp and visited with the returning climbers. Todd Passey and his crew were sitting on the runway, so I had a chance to talk with them about SLC, and climbing. Kevin Kopack had returned with his group including three Swedish climbers who erected a large Swedish flag at the camp, and a cou;le from Boston. I talked with Paul ? of Alpine Ascents. He had two Czec climbers, Monique, an investment banker from L.A., Lori, a vet from Denver. A couple from Saint Louis returned; they seemed real happy to have summited and returned. I met Viren, a guide who had descended with three clients: one with a bad achilles heel, and two with altitude problems. He's a really nice guy. Melis Coady came in the evening, but two clients didn't make it before the weather closed in. Gren, Seth, and Francesco were to attempt the Czec Direct.

6/11/08 Wednesday. Fabrizio Zangrelli went out today. He left a small amount of Scotch and some ham for us. Gren had an argument with Daryl over rescue just before flying out. Andy Hall came in. He was writing a story for Alaska Magazine. Melis Coady and a Danish woman came over. Then the big flurry started; John Race and his wife Olivia, guiding for Rainier Mountaineering brought in a film crew for "America's Toughest Job" reality TV show. It was a group of 26. Ten extra folks couldn't get out in the evening because of weather, so they spent the night in camp.

6/12/08 Thursday. Lots of action with the TV series. They are climbing the "Control Tower" today with five contestants to see who will be the best guide. By evening we expect them home, but they are late at 4:00, so only a few of the crew take off in the planes. Tony Martin came to camp and described his climb of Denali in exquisite detail to me and Daryl. Then, he had a difficult time persuading the crew to actually get on the plane; if they didn't he was taking off, because a lot of thunderheads had built up in Talkeetna and the base of the mountains. Finally, at 6:30 pm, as the planes were supposed to leave, the crew descended the mountain and began the slow process of boarding. Only the guides were left; small celebration. Later, the final plane arrived and carried off the five guides and the remaining gear. All is quiet.

6/13/08 Friday. Can't remember what I did...


6/14/08 Saturday. Mik Shain's crew arrives. Mik, Dr. Jennifer Dow, Todd and Christine Anthony, and Tom. They had been at 14K, 17K, and the summit on patrol. They were dressed in a variety of polyester dresses and Hawaiian shirts for the warm lowlands. Tons of fun and talk.


6/15/08 Sunday. We pack up in the morning, because our flight is scheduled for 11am. However it's not flyable in Talkeetna, so we don't completely pack. At breakfast one of the RMI students comes in with a sore arm. Dr. Dow checks it out: tendinitis, most likely, but the woman flies out. In the afternoon, the weather clears and we fly out to Talkeetna in Paul Roderick's Otter. Great flight. Talkeetna is green, the air is warm. It's great to be back in the valley.

To see the photos, check: http://picasaweb.google.com/ralph.tingey/DenaliPatrol2008

Evening Bike Ride

Terrie Cole called on her way to work this morning and asked if I'd like to take a bike ride after work; that I should call Mark Longden, and the three of us would go out. Sounded like a great idea, so promptly at 6:20 pm I left the house. On the way, I saw a new neighbor walking down the street towards the bus stop. Knowing that the bus comes once an hour, at 6:15, I knew that she had missed it, so I offered her a ride. She was going downtown, which was several miles out of my way. It was a good feeling to be helping her, so I didn't mind and called Terrie to tell her I wouldn't be there till 7:00pm. The neighbor was dressed in jeans, a long shirt dripping below her coat, dangling earrings, and a black braided hat covering wild blond hair. She told me the story of her life, her divorce, her custody battle for her 16yr old son with her northern Irish husband, and other tales of melancholy and woe. By the time we got the the bus station, her story had her in tears, and I was questioning my sanity, too. Lovely lady, lost, pathetic, and alone. But I had great friends waiting, so sped directly on south.

Mark and Terrie were ready, so by 7:30 we took off down the Chester Creek trail into town. The whole way we bantered, teasing each other like children with slight sexy stories, locker-room humor, and gossip, interspersed with plans for the summer and fall of trips up mountains, down rivers, and "the future." The Future, as we see it is pretty vague. Terrie wants to got to Colorado for the fall, then come back mid-winter for the great ice climbing in Alaska. It would be great to have her in Colorado, then I'd have a climbing partner for the fall when I come to Ouray to climb and ski. The Future for me is tomorrow; I haven't thought much further than that for the past couple of years after the divorce. We rely on Terrie to make adequate plans.

By the time we arrived at Westchester Lagoon, we were starving, and to our rescue came Dani Evinson, my climbing partner, dinner date, and all around great friend, riding her mountain bike in the opposite direction...home. Food became paramount, so we rode the mile and a half to Dani's house, chained the bikes in a gob, and hustled to the Bear Tooth for hamburgers and quaffs of beer. More waterlogged than drunk, we teetered back to the car, to the house, to the bikes, and rode home. Now it was 11:30, a late hour for the three of them, being gainfully employed. But for me it was a great night!