Although we are well past the spring equinox, the snow remains in Alaska. I walk around nearly 4 feet in the air. Looking around, I think back to myself, how high does this come up in the summer? Trail stakes stick up only one or two inches above the top of the snow. In summer they come up to my chin.
Dog houses have become snow caves. The snow has continued to fall and fall this winter.
Ice Cream towers above her doghouse
This has been coupled with significant cold and wind. January ranked in the top 10 coldest January’s on record for Alaska. The temperatures were regularly 30 below zero. The cold tested determination and preparation.
Now in early April, the temperatures are still falling below zero every night. I know the snow will melt sometime. Already the daylight lasts until past 9 at night. Max keeps telling me that he can’t go to sleep until it is dark. I worry what this will mean as summer progresses.
The dogs are lounging in the sun. Done are the long runs of winter. These are the days of short jaunts around the local trails. Small teams help many dogs get the chance to run in lead. Max has become the main musher the last few weeks. Developing his skills and confidence with the dogs.
The snow depth has also been a challenge for the moose. The deeper it gets, the harder time they have walking around. They are clinging more and more to places with less snow: rivers, roads, and driveways. In general, I think of the moose as a pleasant sight here in Alaska. I enjoy watching them and do not worry about running into them. However, the deep snow has pressed them closer and closer to the kennel. One night I awoke to the dogs barking and looked out. There was a moose was standing right next to the dogs. Mike and I began to rush about trying to direct the moose away from the kennel. As it was right in front of the front door of our house, first I needed to get around it. I scooted out the side of the house holding the pizza pan and spoon that had been drying in the dish rack. The dogs were barking, I was banging the pan, but the moose was too scared and confused to find his way out. This was a yearling moose, with no mother in sight. Likely, she was one of the many casualties of moose and train. The young moose continued to approach the dogs, stomping his feet at them. Ultimately, I turned on the radio in the yard and that seemed to send him away more than anything else we had done. He made his way out of the kennel. All of the dogs were fine and Max slept through the whole ordeal. Needless to say, I have felt more concerned by the continued presence of moose in our neighborhood and I am sure that they are eager for spring.
I feel I have been continually tested by this winter. In addition to true winter weather, I have felt challenged this winter by other factors. One of my struggles has been with our local school. For the last few years the enrollment numbers have been dropping. We now teeter on the edge of what is funded by the state. If less than 10 students enroll, the state stops providing funds to the school. As our district faced this challenge, the proposal was made to close our local school. This would cause local students, Max included, to travel 40 miles each way to the next closest school. While my job would be preserved by moving to this different site, this would greatly change our family’s life together and our village as a whole. I put energy into pulling our community together to argue for the importance of the school to all of us. To ask for the district to choose to make the investment of keeping the school open for another year to give us time to try and increase our enrollment. And ultimately the school board agreed to our proposal.
Max skiing at school
Just as I felt I could draw a breath of relief, the worldwide pandemic affected Alaska, as it has the rest of the world. Some of the changes are not as significant for us. We are relatively distanced from other people on a regular basis. I am already used to shopping for weeks worth of groceries. We are also fortunate to have so much wilderness to go out and play in. However, our school has been closed for the remainder of the school year, so we are adjusting to learning and teaching at home. It is lucky to get to have so much more time together as a family and to watch Mike help Max learn. We also expect differences in our future as we wait for travel to Alaska to recover. It is unlikely that there will be many visitors this summer, so I may finally get a vacation. It will be an opportunity to partake in the summer adventures Alaska can provide. And, perhaps, I can finally try to turn our stories into a book. As we look to a quiet summer, we are identifying ways to use our resources more efficiently. One change that we can make is to stop using this email service to send you our newsletters. Instead I can post our blogs on our website. I will send you a simple email as I write them, and it will directly you to our site. I have transitioned almost all of my previous blogs there, so if you are finding yourself with extra time on your hands and want to see really cute pictures of Max as a toddler, you can peruse the old issues here. I also encourage you to like us on Facebook. I still have much to learn about harnessing the power of social media, but we plan to share frequently.
We have a litter of puppies that we are hosting for the summer. Because of our continued deep snow, they are growing up in our living room. I am not sure there is anything better to be self isolated with than a litter of puppies. Max has come up with nick names for them: Tiny Tail, Raven, Bat Boy, Spider, Rooster, and MacGyver.
If there is anything that Iditarod has prepared me for, it is to be an excellent worrier. As I watch the GPS tracker during the race, I question every change in speed Mike and the dogs make. My skill in worrying extends beyond the race trail. I can imagine all sorts of scenarios. However, we have all been upended by something that I did not worry about. I have not tossed and turned in bed worrying that the world would be shut down in an instant. That everyone would stay home and businesses would close. So for me, a lesson in this experience is how futile worry is. My fears have not prevented or even predicted my challenges. They have merely affected my presence in non-challenging times. So as we move forward, I hope that I can take that lesson with me and fear less and live more. I hope too, that we all can continue to appreciate the time we get to spend with the people and the dogs we love most and look forward to our future opportunities to make new connections with people and places.
Until next time, I hope you and your family are safe, and that you are all having as much fun with your dogs as we are with ours.
Mike, Caitlin, and Max