Getting Big Brother's Goat - Part III: Surviving the Storm

On a goat hunt the adventure does not end until you are back in town.

I actually don’t remember dinner or whether or not we had some whiskey, but I’m sure we had a tot and some food. I do remember lying in my sleeping bag, warm and very happy to be at rest. I mused about what we had accomplished. We got the goat! The hard part is over – now we just enjoy the high country and go skiing until the plane arrives at the lake. I am awakened from my reveries by Dicky yelling to wake me up. He hears something outside and is convinced it’s a bear come to take the goat away. So we get up, leave our warm shelters and check things outside. It’s dark and the wind is coming up. No bear that we can see.

On every goat hunt in Kodiak’s high alpine there is a least one bad storm.

A few hours later Dicky wakes me up again. It’s snowing and blowing hard. Dicky is worried about the goat meat. That evening when we’d got back to camp we had simply dropped the meat and hide by a rock near camp, intending to better take care of it the next day. Now Dicky is worried about the meat getting buried, and lost in the snow. So we get up again and make a meat stash, wrapping the meat in a tarp and putting rocks over it. Good thing we did because we wake up in the morning to 2 feet of new snow and deep drifts.

Good idea to bring dried fruit and cliff bars on a goat hunt – food you can eat in your tent and not have to cook.

In the morning the wind is slapping snow against the tent and making weird banshee noises overhead, and there is no way I am leaving my tent. I got a Bibler single wall tent that is built like a brick house. It barely wiggles in the high wind behind the stonewall we built when we set up camp. All morning I subsist on cliff bars, dried fruit, and water from my pack. I use an empty nalgene to handle the plumbing issues. I curl up and read my book. I did not bring a full-length sleeping pad and am using all my clothes and gear as insulation from the ice below the tent. I have to roll over every 2 hours or so when my hip gets sore. Every once in a while I doze off. I watch the snow build up against the sides. Things are good in my tent.

Single wall tents are drier than tents with flies in a blizzard.

Not so in the other tent. The wind has been blowing snow up under their fly and it has been melting on the roof, and dripping down into the tent. Dicky and Scott are living in a humid swamp. When the wind shakes the tent it sends down a light mist of precipitation from the ceiling that slowly soaks Dicky, Scott and their bedding. They decide to evacuate, create a snow shelter and cook something up to eat. Dicky tries to convince me to leave my cocoon and join them. He is peeved when I refuse to budge from the nest. He finally gives up on me and joins Scott building the fort. Their voices join that of the storm outside, and off and on for the next few hours I catch isolated phrases and mumblings of their conversation. I doze on in the mellow light shining through the walls of the yellow tent while the storm rages overhead.

Snow caves beat forts for a kitchen in a blizzard.

Eventually, in the early afternoon, I do get up and venture outside. It is a completely different world than yesterday. Snow has covered all the familiar landmarks and has obscured the horizon in a whiteout blizzard. I find Dicky and Scott huddled up in a big pit with a constant stream of snow blowing in from on top. I can’t believe they have stuck it out for so long in such a miserable shelter. It is barely possible to cook. But we all agree that the skiing ought to be great when the storm lets up. While getting water by the lake I notice that the old snow overhangs the lake water, creating a sort of cave. I check it out further and notice that there is no wind under the ice overhang. So after convincing Dicky and Scott to leave their hard won ‘shelter’ we move our kitchen to the lakeshore under the overhang.

Albeit heavy, Dinty Moore stew sure is tasty.

The new ‘snow’ kitchen is quite comfortable and we eat a large meal and delve into the whiskey. We watch the falling snow turn the surface of the lake into an icy mush. And we begin to wonder what will we do if the lake freezes over? If the lake freezes over we will have to move camp to the lake at 271 feet above sea level for floatplane pickup. Big gusts swirl the falling snow out over the surface of the lake but nary a puff reaches us. We eat, drink hot fluids, and pass around the whiskey bottle. We are making a concerted effort to eat up all our heavy food first.

Never, ever finish the whiskey until you are sure there will be no more adversity!

Late in the afternoon we decide to explore our immediate environs and get some exercise. The snow has let up a bit and it seems like a good time to check out the beginning of the route down to the low country. So we strap on our skis and head out to circumnavigate the small knoll behind camp. The snow is so deep that we are forced to wallow in single file and the guy in front has to break trail through the deep snow. We do not go very far, but do determine that the direct route down is a no go because a granite cliff drops sheer into the lake. We will have to backtrack up around the hill behind camp before heading down to the low country. After our ski we retire to the snow cave to eat, ponder our plans, and finish the whiskey. The lake is not yet frozen over, but the temperatures are dropping, the lake is already ‘mushing over’ and it looks like freeze-up is imminent. We decide to move camp down to the lake at 271 feet above sea level, and will start our move in the morning. Our scheduled pickup is in two days, and we figure it will take that long to get all our gear down to the lower lake. There is a sense of severe disappointment that we will not be able to hang out and enjoy the snow while we wait for the float plane to arrive. Patrick

"Ambulance Ride" to Anchorage-Insurance Update

Several weeks ago I received a mass mailing letter from Premera Blue Cross stating that their coverage for my policy was going to change, effective May 1, 2007. Reading through the list of changes, "ambulance services" caught my attention. As of May 1, 2007, there will be NO cap on ambulance services under the plan I'm on. Its good that someone saw the light and changed that portion of the plan. I wrote a letter to Premera requesting that this change of plan be made retroactive to Feb 9th, when we took the "ambulance" ride to Anchorage. We'll wait and see what happens.

I'm in the final stages of my breast milk donor application. I have to wait for a blood test kit from the Milk donation group and 3 weeks after that I'll be ready to start. I"m starting to stack up the milk in my freezer. When I asked Mary Jane and Alexis if I was crazy for wanting to do this, they reassured me that I'm not. I'm so curious about the whole process and it seems like a much cooler way to help people in other countries rather then sending money. You never really know where your money goes to. I know that breasmilk, however, would end up in the tummies of babies in South Africa! So cool.
Once I'm given the go ahead to start, the International Breastmilk Project people send me 1 day fed ex boxes with coolers and I can start. The milk will initially be sent to a center in California and then once a month or so I believe they send it all together to Africa. (Zoya)

Afternoon Hikes

Every day after work and my afternoon ski I take the doggies and Nora for a walk. Usually we hike in Abercrombie and enjoy the trails through the old growth spruce forest. But lately I have been climbing down to the beach on the steps by the Rasmussen's housing project just before the park entrance and hiking back along the beach to just below the Anderson's house where I climb back up. This hike is tide dependant and a few times I did get a little wet (at high tide the water rises right up to the base of the cliff). Nora and the dogs love the change in scenery, and the dogs always go for a swim and fight over sticks. Nora loves to watch the dogs tussle in the water and squeels with glee. Patrick

Funny times at the Saltonstalls

The past week there have been some funny moments at our household. Nora is growing into a little person right before our eyes. A few nights ago, Patrick and I were sitting in the living room with Stuart and Nora was toddling around the house being "busy"...moving things from here to there, reading, etc... Nora walked in the room proudly with a small cup of water and stood at the coffee table as she sipped on it.
I looked up at Patrick and said, "did you give that to her?".
He said, "No, I thought you gave it to her?"
I said, "Maybe we should check by the toilet to see if there are water drippings on the floor".
Sure enough, there were. We believe that Nora sees the dog drinking from the toilet and she must think its ok to do! We kindly told her that its not good to drink the toilet water.


A few nights ago it was a balmy 45 degrees and Patrick was going to work on the garden so Nora came with to play in the driveway/garden. Boy did she ever have fun in the dirt! She is hooked on mud puddles. A few times she came close to laying down in the mud puddle-she LOVED splashing in them, throwing rocks and watching the dogs. She is an ourdoors girl at heart! Patrick loves it. Actually, both of us love having a daughter who loves to play in dirt and splash in mud puddles. ( The bottom photo was taken before she went inside for a bath!)


At meals, Patrick and I believe it is important for us to sit together at the table. Occasionally Patrick or I will serve her food, get her seated then walk around the kitchen doing other things, or Patrick may be on the computer for a few more minutes. As of late, Nora, calls our attention and points to the empty chairs next to her. She has our number! She reminds us to come sit next to her at the table. Good for her. She keeps us focused on our goal of eating together as a family. (Zoya)

Getting Big Brother's Goat - Part II: The Hunt

No lesson here – Tyvek is GREAT goat camo.

Predawn gloaming and we are up and cooking breakfast. Freezing cold, but Orion’s Belt hangs above us, and there is the promise of blue skies above. The expected storm had held off for another day! High level of excitement – we will get a goat today. My brother dons his white tyvek goat camo and along with his 30- 06 the mood is complete; he is so much the goat hunter that Scott and I can’t help but laugh. The white camo is somehow incongruous and hilarious. We opt not to take the skiis and head out in ski boots with our packs to harvest a goat. We figure they’ll still be just at the other end of the lake.

Goats do roam.

After much excitement and low-profile creeping through the boulders to where we saw the goats the previous evening we determine that I was wrong, and that, just perhaps, goat do travel at night. There are no goats on the far side of the lake. We contemplate our next move and watch a bear approach our camp far below and on the far side of the lake. Do we need to beat feet and defend the homeland? But as we watch through binoculars the bear winds our camp and walks precisely around the perimeter – avoiding our camp altogether. We decide to leave the goatless immediate area, and opt to go to where we saw the herd of goats from the plane. To do this we need to cross a valley, climb a mountain and cross a glacier. It’s already late morning – time to get cracking.

Good choice – we would never have got a goat if we had gone back to camp.

So we cross the valley and climb the glacier, and then climb down 1000 feet on the other side to a bench where we hope the goats are located. It’s already early afternoon and we need to turn around and get headed back to camp soon. We reach the critical spot near where we saw the goats the day before from the air and Dicky creeps ahead alone to find the goats. Scott and I joke and watch Dicky do his thing in white camo with a gun. Meanwhile the two of us spot a lone goat sleeping on the flats at the base of the cliff below. A little later Dicky comes back making hand signals which Scott and I do not understand – then talks loudly when he gets near us to explain what he tried to signal. Turns out he has not seen anything. We quiet him quickly and point out the goat.

The fun is over once the goat is down.

Decision time – do we shoot the goat? The goat is another 700 feet below us at the base of a very steep slope, it is getting late and we are a long ways from camp. We consult the map and determine that the goat is just barely in our permit area. Not much of a decision – of course we will shoot the goat because that is why we are here. So Dicky creeps off down the cliff and Scott and I kill time while surreptitiously watching the goat and Dicky on his vector course. Scott and I are totally paranoid about spooking the goat and are afraid to even show the tops of our heads. For us the stalk is painful, we are sure the goat will suddenly wake up and then bound away. And he does sit up. Oh where is Dicky! And then the shot; the goat is dead! And then, as Scott put it so eloquently just after we watched Dicky shoot the goat, ‘the fun part is over’.

Goats can be big and heavy.

In its death throws the goat managed to get with about 5 feet of the permit area boundary. And it is a huge goat. We had read all the literature and expected something on the side of a ‘big deer’ – according to the Alaska Department of Fish & Game the average nanny goat weighs 160 lbs and the average Billy goat 200 lbs. The goat we found on the ground was more on the scale of small white cow - 350 rather than the expected 200 pounds. And we have a 1500-foot cliff to climb. On our return to Kodiak we discovered that Dicky had shot the largest goat ever harvested on Kodiak Island. Big enough that it is even mentioned to this day on the ADF&G website on their section about hunting mountain goats (http://www.wildlife.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=goathunt.kodiak). We would also later discover that 12-year-old Billy goats are tough as leather and taste like old tires (normal sized goats are about the tastiest meat to be found on Kodiak).

Always keep the goat hide – you’ll appreciate the extra effort later.

We slowly came to the stunned realization that maybe getting this thing cut up and back to camp would be difficult. Slightly panicked, I immediately declared that we would not keep the hide – only the meat. I figured that this would reduce the load from about 200 lbs to 150 lbs. I was also worried about the time, and had never skinned a goat. It intimidated me. But Dicky wanted to keep the hide – he had visions of a goat rug in front of the fireplace. So with Scott keeping watch for bears and Dicky as assistant surgeon, I figured out how to butcher the goat and keep the skin intact. We actually did it rather quickly, finishing in an hour and ten minutes.

Good frame packs make carrying a heavy load of meat easier.

So we packed up the meat and hide. All the gear went into Scott’s internal frame pack while some goat meat and the hide went on a small external frame and then the remaining 100 pounds or so went into a large, yellow dry bag that had no frame at all – just straps. Humping the yellow dry bag was so bad that Dicky and I had to alternate carrying it. Climbing up the cliff was truly the Hump from Hell. And scary too, at one point we traversed a slippery ledge above an enormous chasm. The steep part ended, but then we had to trudge up the snowfield for what seemed like forever. I’d look back and see Dicky head bent grunting it out, and realized that for me, it was no better, just one step at a time, and agony always. We’d both look up and see Scott far ahead peering back and waiting for us. After the agony of the ascent we had a steep descent that worked entirely different muscles. To make matters worse, the external frame pack started to come apart. But we got across the valley, climbed the glacier we had skied on the day before and got to camp just at sunset. Totally whacked, we barely had enough energy to cook dinner or even drink whiskey.

Patrick

Nothing Changes

Judging by these photos that my brother scanned our parents were quite the skiiers - Probably Mount Baker near Seattle in the mid to early 1960s. It's kind of funny that these days I am doing the same sort of thing here in Kodiak but on Pyramid and Heitman instead of Mount Baker and Ranier. I can't wait to carry Nora up the mountain and see what she makes of the snow, and ski back down. I guess the apple does not fall too far from the tree. The two kids pictured are my brother Dicky and sister Polly. Amazing how much the old downhill gear looks like old school tele gear. People often think I'm ski and snow obsessed; now I can tell them that it is not my fault. It is in my DNA. Patrick

Getting back into shape with races in mind

When I first met Patrick, he did many ski races in Anchorage every winter. Boy did he train hard for them. Lots of skiing, interval training and weight training. Ella and I did the Tour of Anchorage ski race with Patrick in 2002-it was fun to finish the race-boy was it exhausting. 16 miles Ella and I did. 52 Kilometers Patrick did.

Then Patrick went on some downhill adventures for several years, taking him away from training for a cross country race. He hasn't done any races for several years-neither have I.

This spring Patrick and I are feeling like getting back into the training mind set for next winter. We want to do the Tour of Anchorage again. Patricks brother, Dicky, and my sister Ella may even come up and do it with us. It would give us something to work towards, which I think is a fantastic motivater....especially if "competing" with our siblings is involved. Our friends Julie and Ray and Jeremy and Karen would also be interested in doing the large Anchorage race as well.

My plan is to do spinning, weight training, hiking, jogging, skiing in the next year to come to prepare. Training for a cross country ski race here can be seen as challenging, because there are no groomed trails. However, this can be seen as a training advantage because it takes strength to plow through the snow to create a trail of ones own. Patrick has never seen the lack of cross country ski trails as a disadvantage in his training. He found that his race times improved once he moved here from Wisconsin (where there were LOTS of groomed trails).

Patrick quickly snapped the photo today as the kiddos and I were sitting in the recliner together. Nora spent 3 hours today with our friend Patty Mahoney while we were skiing and Stuey was with Meg, the mommy helper back at the house. Nora had a fun time with Patty and discovered the art of dusting-she was fascinated with Pattys feather duster. :)
Zoya

Heitman Multi-Media Ski

Today a group of us went on a 'multi-media' ski tour to Heitman Lake. By multi media I mean gear intensive. Zoya and I started out on telemark gear (me) and All Terrain downhill ski gear (Zoya). I carried classic cross county skiis for she and I on my back up to the frozen, snow covered lake.
John Mahoney hiked up on snowshoes, while Gregg, Lisa and Sharon used AT and Tele for a continued tour to the tops of Raymond and Heitman Peaks. It was good to see Zoya on downhill gear again and tomarrow we plan on skiing Pyramid. The skate skiing at the lake was phenomenal. I flew around the lake and, since the alders around the lake were mostly covered, I could go anywhere. Up down and all around. Quite the ski. Patrick

The Epic Goat Hunt part I

Getting Big Brother’s Goat, October 2000

Hindsight is 20/20, and looking back at my brother’s goat hunt it’s obvious that we did make a lot of mistakes. It was one of those adventures that you remember as a good time, but was a brutal slog in reality. It was our first Kodiak goat hunt. Since then I’ve gone on a great many goat hunts, and none of them have been quite as much fun. We learned a lot on that hunt.

Best time to hunt goats in the high alpine is in September.

To hunt goats on Kodiak you need to enter a lottery to win a ‘goat hunting’ permit. I convinced my brother to enter the lottery with me and he won a tag. Perhaps this is why we made our first and biggest mistake. Since it was my brother’s tag we decided to go in late October rather than earlier in the fall when it is warmer and the weather is far better. But my brother wanted to wait until the end of the sailing season in Maine. We reasoned that by waiting till late October the snow cover would also be better for skiing. This was how we convinced my brother’s friend Scott Carlson to join us. Scott was not interested in hunting goats but a backcountry ski trip seemed reasonable. We envisioned a ski trip up in Kodiak’s alpine that would also double as a goat hunt.

Hunt or ski – but do not try and do both on one trip.

So October rolls around and brother Dicky and his friend Scott arrive on Kodiak. We consult with the floatplane pilot and learn that most of the lakes up high have already frozen over so we amend our plan to land at a lake near sea level. We reason we’ll set up a base camp and then hike up into the alpine with a lightweight ‘spike’ camp to hunt for brother’s goat. . We had read in magazines how goat hunters use spike camps and it seemed like a good idea. We also decided that since we were going to use a base camp, why not make it a cushy base camp. With this in mind we packed up coolers with Dinty Moore stew and brought two large tents – one for base camp and one for our spike camp.

‘Spike’ camps never work out as planned.

We fly out of the floatplane dock in Trident Basin on a spectacular fall day - the sort of day that pushes the coming of winter out of your immediate thinking. We definitely took the weather for granted. We flew down to our permit area at the head of Ugak Bay, and Rolan the pilot did a few turns over the area to help us get a feel for the country and see where the goats were situated. We see lots of glaciers, exposed granite rock, and plenty of snow. We even spy a herd of goats. It was perfect country for an adventurous goat hunt and even enough snow for some skiing on the side. From the plane we also spot many good access routes up and down from the alpine to the low country. It all looked quite easy from the air.

It always looks easier from the air.

Circling the high peaks in the plane we noticed that the lakes in the high country were not frozen over – so we debated our options and decided to land at a lake at 2300 feet rather than one at 271 feet. We reasoned that if our high lake froze over, we could always climb down to the lower lake. After all, it is less than 4 miles from the high lake to the lower lake and we had seen the whole route from the plane. Most importantly, the only goats we had seen were a long ways from the lower lake.

Always have your plan ‘B’ worked out before you leave on the trip.

We land, take our picture with the floatplane, and find a place to camp - what a glorious place. There is still old snow from last year piled up next to the lake. It turns out the area is all granite boulders and the only flat ground is on the old snow by the lake. So we carve out a campsite on the snow, and do something smart. We build rock walls around our tents. At the time it seemed like overkill, but we had enough experience to understand how hard it can blow in the alpine.

Enjoy it while it is good – the best part of the trip is often the prelude to the ‘main attraction’.

After setting up camp, we cannot hunt because it is illegal to hunt goats the same day you were airborne, so we go for a ski reconnoiter. What a glorious place! The snow is a bit challenging with a stiff breakable crust, and we all take a few diggers. But it is October and we are skiing. We climb up to the top of a 3500-foot pinnacle and even see a bear running away far down on the other side. Cliffs, glaciers, big vistas, and we are there. On our ski back to camp we even spot two goats at the other end of the lake from camp. We returned to camp with the highest expectations for the next day. Over dinner and whiskey I assured both my brother and Scott that ‘of course the goats would still be there in the morning – they don’t travel at night’.

Abercrombie Gentrification

For a blast from the past I thought I'd share these photos that I scanned as slides for Wayne Biessel the ranger for Kodiak State Parks - including Abercrombie. It seems we've come a long way from just the late 1970's. Back in the day people lived out at Abercrombie and it was a rocking party spot.

This was true of many of the old WWII structures everywhere around town. During the king crab days housing was short so people lived where they could. Bunkers were a great place to fix up as an apartment - usually a bunch of guys would share space and cooking duties. I gather it was not until the late 1970s possibly early 1980s that the Coast Guard kicked everybody out of the old elephant bunkers in Swampy Acres. Today they are all locked up tight.

Abercrombie was no different. Somebody probably lived in that bus. People camped out there and then commuted to town to work in the canneries.

Abercrombie was also quite the party spot. Legend has it that each senoir class tried to fill a particular bunker with beer cans. To this day, some of those former Kodiak High senoirs are still proud of how much their class filled the bunker up.

Today Abercrombie is a much tidier place. The trails are maintained and people visit daily to walk their dogs and commune with nature. Only the ranger and his family live there year round. In the summer people picnic and swim in the lake. While occasionally a few wild-eyed 'senoirs' still do make their presence known, the park is a tranquil place. It has come a long way in 25 years. Patrick

Parenting Highs and Lows

Stuey is over 2 months old now and 14 pounds. He is my little chunker-rubber band wrists, thighs, arms...little fat rolls everywhere. So kissable!

Nights are going better and better-he sleeps 3-4 hour chunks routinely now. Yeee-haa!! Feels good to finally get some rest.

Thats not to say that evenings/nights are always good-last night was an example. Patrick went off to a meeting and Stuart and Nora were both crying at one point right when Nora went to bed. Then Stuey proceeded to cry for 1/2 hour after Nora went to bed. Kind of unusual for him-he was really upset and I wasn't sure why. Finally it passed and he went to sleep-but it not before I chewed my nails off and comfort ate (dried mangos-not too bad for myself-I suppose).

Parenting is filled with those moments of frusturation/angst where you can't do much to alleviate a situation except ride the wave. Fortunately it is balanced out by joyous moments as well-such as Nora laughing, learning something new, giving me a big hug...Stu smiling. It all balances out.

I've been stroller walking every day with different friends, which is fantastic to get outside! One day with Alisa, one day with Roxann, today with Karen. So fun to catch up with friends and get exercise at the same time! :) (ZAS)

Pasagshak in Spring

Yesterday I drove out to Pasagshak for work. Brechan is paving the road and they need my help to make sure they are not damaging archaeological sites. It was sunny in town and all my co-workers were envious of my lark out the roadsystem. I do not think they quite believed me when I told them it was misty and dreery just 30 miles away on the East side of the Island.

On the way there I saw these Trumpeter Swans (not 100% sure of the ID but sure look like it) hanging out with another 7 Tundra Swans on Rose Tead Lake. The swans wintered on Rose Tead, but I also saw masses of ducks and other migratory birds. The spring migration is beginning and kodiak is one of their main way points where they stop and recharge their batteries after flying across the Gulf of Alaska. By early May Kodiak is awash in migratory birds and heaven for serious bird watchers.

I did not find any threatenned archaeological sites and then on the way home I went for a ski at Pasagshak Pass. It was flurrying and whiteout. Driving home Pyramid was clear, and I wished I had not already gone skiing! But I took Nora and the doggies down to the beach instead.

The bottom photo is the beach and community of Pasagshak. This is where many of the out of town guests stayed during Zoya and I's wedding. Yesterday on the beach was a far cry from the halycon days of late August. Patrick

More Glass Balls

Cape Douglas 1994. Me with some my first glass balls ever. I gave the big one away to Dan Mann and have never found another large one. PGS

Bath Time!

Ahhhh.bathtime at the Saltonstalls...full of splashing water, bath toys, the occasional "floater" and occasional tears when its time for Nora to get out.

Stu enjoyed his bath today as he soaked in the warmth and looked around.

It'll be fun when the kiddos can splash around together. Watching Nora play in the tub reminds me of what an amazing learning opportunity the water is-as she pours it, splashes in it...(ZAS)

Beachcombing

Alaska has great beachcombing - more coastline than all the other states in the Union combined and very few people ever visit most of the beaches. I imagine Alaska today is what it used to be like in Puget sound and on the coast of Oregon. I remember as a kid that my dad had a few glass ball fishing floats in his study that he found when we used to live in Seattle. I would hold them up to the light and roll them around on the carpet. My dad told me that they were very rare and my interest was piqued. I really wanted to find one of my own. Of course I never did - and glass balls sort of took on the aura of moon rocks.

Then I started to do fieldwork in Alaska and got to really beachcomb for the first time. Back in the mid 1980s the Big Off-shore boats were still throwing a lot of trash over board, and the beaches were covered with fascinating stuff. Russian bug spray with the directions in Cyrillic and in 'pictures' for what I imagined were illiterate Siberians; thousands of big plastic balls that people pay 50 bucks for in Maine and use as mooring buoys; Japanese Suntori whiskey bottles - almost always with a couple of fingers of booze still in them. After I had just finished drinking one up my friend Rick Knecht told me with a straight face that the Japanese always left a bit in the bottle for the Gods, but that some Japanese guys cheated and just peed in the bottle to make it look like a good sacrifice to the Gods. Never finished off the Suntori bottles I found after that, but once I did find a whole case of Kirin beer with the caps still on! But glass balls were few and far between. I think Rick Knecht used to find them all before I did. I did not find a glass ball on my own until 1994.

Then in one week near Cape Douglas I found 12, and I also figured out how to find them. And I have been finding them ever since. Two years ago I got to survey a remote island that had really good beachcombing. No one had been there in a year or so. The top picture is of Mark Rusk with our haul from just one afternoon (and we did some archaeological survey work too). We concentrated on the glass balls, but I remember seeing liferings with the names of boats, cool old bottles, plastic floaty toys - loads of stuff. Mark and I just cared about glass balls and we kept a running tally of who found more. I got a 10 ball lead at the start on a lone hike around the back of a lagoon near camp, while Mark did something usefull like supply the camp with drinking water, and I held my lead to the end. Note the 'rolling pin' style glass balls. We found 5 of them - and they are not common.

Glass balls were used to keep the edge of fishing nets on the surface. They come in many different sizes and shapes depending on where they were made and what species of fish was the target. They often are even marked with a symbol designating the factory of origin. There is a very cool book that spells all this out; and it is quite satisfying to be able to hold a glass ball up to the light and say - 'this ball was made in Saporro Japan in the 1950s'. Still the only big ball (over 12 inches round) I ever found was among those first 12 I ever found. I gave it away and have not found another since. Patrick

Mommies Helper Meg

The photo is of Stuart sacked out on Meg's lap today!

2 months since Stuey was born and I'm finding a groove with our new schedule. Ahhh...the dust from having a newborn is beginning to finally settle. Sleeping is going better-Stuart has 3-4 hour stretches many nights, which is fantastic. Amazing how far a little stretch of sleep can help my energy during the day.

On Wednesday I began a 3 day a week circuit training weight program. The curcuit is 24 stations at our local gym-45 seconds at each station. It hits all the muscle groups and is a killer workout. I'm excited to finally do some weight training again. Between that on MWF and teaching spinning classes T/Th, I'm feeling energized once again.

Having my mommy helper, Meg, at the house in the mornings has been such a blessing! She has enabled me to go to the gym, have one-on-one time with Nora, and keep my sanity when Nora needs extra TLC. She is fantastic with Stuart and is really getting to know him as well. She'll say, "he seemed a bit gassy....seems like he is extra hungry lately....he really is looking around more....boy he has gotten big...." I"ll be taking her out East with me to see Patricks mom and my sister and other family for 2 weeks in May. She'll be a lifesaver on a transcontinental flight with a 20 month old and a 3 month old! Hopefully by then Nora will be excited at the prospect of watching a DVD...to help pass the time. Up till now she really hasn't watched videos-

Lately when Stuart cries, I get occasional flashbacks to when he was in the NICU and I would hear him cry and not be able to respond to him. For instance, he would cry when they were putting an IV in, or if he was hungry and it was taking a while to get his food ready-before I could nurse him. I hated not being able to reach out and hold him in the NICU. So precious and innocent he was-and yet I couldn't snuggle him against me. I want to some how make it up to him now. I feel badly that he had to go through all of that. I think the experience was just as hard, if not harder, on me than on him. I just give him lots of hugs and kisses.

My first night with him in the hospital (his last night there) was so blissful-I remember rolling him into our little room in his bassinette and I could bring him right next to me all night. I was in heaven and barely slept. I was so giddy with excitement to have my little guy right next to me. I never wanted to let him go from my sight again. To have him away from the beeps, monitors, lines, oxygen. He was where he belonged-next to mamma.

Katie Dog

Things are a little slow in Kodiak - hence more photos from the archive. It has been a mix of rain snow all day, and when I went cross country skiing at the ski chalet we already had a foot of new snow. But all rain here in town since midday. Pretty crappy weather - but hey, at least it is all snow up high.

In the old days I used to go skiing on days like this with Katie Dog. She went everywhere I went. Our new dog pack does not go skiing and has a proclivity for chasing deer (need to be leashed in deer country). And Roxy Dog gets carsick. So the new dogs don't go out skiing with me every day (they do get to go for a walk in Abercrombie with Nora and me on a daily basis). But Katie Dog did go every day. She was actually pretty amazing. Downhill skiing you could always tell which were my tracks because they had Kdog tracks down the center and looked like a dollar sign that went on and on down the hill. She was smaller than the current dogs, but could hold her own in deep snow.

Shoot a ptarmigan and she'd actually bring it back. She loved hunting and skiing. In the top photo Katie dog and I are ptarmigan hunting at Pasagshak pass in the snow. In the bottom photo Katie is enjoying life with then new girlfriend Zoya out at Termination Point (Spring 2000). At first, Katie dog had a hard time sharing me with Zoya. And Zoya wanted me to put her on a chain, and keep her out of the bed. But they did grow to love each other, and now Zoya is firmly a dog lover. I think Katie dog is partly responsible. Of course, the current dog pack is all over the bed. Zoya even calls Roxy and Jake, our two black labs, the 'bedroom fashion accessories'. Patrick

Patrick and Stuey

Patrick is getting more confident watching Stuey! He watched him for over an hour the other night when I taught my spinning class. Stu takes a bottle very easily, which makes it easy for Patrick to "babysit". Funny how some people don't like it when we call Patrick "babysitting" Stuart. People remarked to us with Nora, "Its not babysitting-its parenting...". In reality, however-you're sitting with a baby-so we think babysitting is an OK term. :_) (ZAS)

Archive Photo-Zoya's Kodiak Acting Days

Back in 2001, I was in a dinner theater comedy production of "Thataway Jack"...I was a mail order bride, Lucy. The play was quite funny and my character had to hit, slap, faint, scream...all of which took considerable practice! How fun it was-but very time consuming. Hours and hours of rehearsals. I'd like to someday do more acting in Kodiak-once time allows!

Salonie Creek in the Sun

Yup, more ski photos. But don't worry every day the sun is riding a little higher in the sky and each day there is about 5 minutes more daylight. The sun has even started to rise out of the ocean each day in front of our house after a winter of rising up over Spruce Cape. And it is supposed to rain later this week. I do believe skiing at sea level is coming to an end. Pretty soon it'll all be downhill skiing, hiking and Nora and Stu outside. So enjoy the snow.

Yesterday, Adelia and Chris Myrick, Philip, Jeff Gordon, Lisa and Gregg, and John Mahoney and I all cross country skiied up Salonie Creek and ate lunch in the canyon. Temperatures were in the upper 30's but the strong sun made it seem much warmer. I was the only one to skate ski, but the soft conditions made it a little tough and I ended up waxing my combi skiis and going home classic style. We made it up into the canyon at the head of Salonie Creek and I skiied another mile up into the deep canyon to where there are three large, blue ice pilars hanging down from the ravine edge like large stalagtites. Still winter up in the canyon - even powder snow!

The way home to the cars parked at the rifle range was the best part. We already had a nice set track to ski in and it was all slightly downhill. We just flew back in the sun with very little effort. Seemed like we were cheating somehow. Patrick

Spectacular cross country skiing!

I made it out for a ski this morning which felt so good!! The kiddos stayed at the house with Megan the babysitter.

It has been a year since I've skiied. Patrick and I went to lake Geneve, which is behind Lake Louise housing. We enjoyed the snow with Jeremy Larsen and Karen Bochenstein-2 new friends who recently moved to the island. The snow was good for classic and skate skiing and the sun kept us perfectly warm. Gosh it felt good to get on skis once again!
Karen and I are in the bottom photo together. (ZAS)

Smiling Stuart

Stuey's baby acne is beginning to clear, his baby cold is slowly resolving and he looks around much more now. He is beginning to smile spontaneously when he is awake also. (ZAS)

Spring is in the air

So its 37 deg. today and sunny and gorgeous and my energy is back today. Phew. That was a tiring few days. Noras spirits and energy has improved and I think she is hitting her stride a bit better as well.

Stuey's cold is on the fix and Patrick is changing night time diapers. YEAH!! That makes a big difference..not having to get out of bed at night.

No big weekend plans as of yet. Just hope to get outside lots....I have spring fever BIG TIME!!! (ZAS)

First Family Photos

Today our friends, John and Jules, came over and took our first family photos. We took some in the nursery and a few outside. John made silly faces to make Nora laugh as Jules snapped away.

Stuart is wearing the hat that my 99 year old grandmother, Nana, knit him and Nora is wearing the kuspuk that my sister bonnie made for her. (ZAS)