Beaver Lake

OK, I've got to get something else up here. My last two posts in a row are about dead friends. That is such a downer.

Yesterday, we did my favorite hike in Sitka- Beaver Lake. It's not a particularly difficult hike, but it's so gorgeous. Yesterday wasn't perfect- it was rather overcast- but not rainy and not too cold. Plus, the hike started out with this:



Someone's been hitting the berries pretty hard. I always feel concerned when they take a crap right in the middle of the trail. Pretty clear message, I'd think. We probably should've turned around (especially since Dennis and Lucy have had a Close Encounter with a bear on this hike), but stuck with it and were rewarded with this:





Big tree:

Buh-bye Alaska

I'm back home, in Sitka, for a few weeks while I study up for my board exams. Probably the last time I'll spend here, perhaps the last time I'll be in Alaska at all. There are things I truly hate about this place. I hate the Alaskan (well, to be fair- it's the American) mentality that everything is here for us to exploit. That Alaska is full of resources for us to use, and damn the consequences. We want to dam, drill, fish, log, dredge and mine every last ounce of natural resources that we can get our grubby little hands on. Then, when we've extracted all the assets from the land, we'll go ahead and build 5,000 square foot McMansions and sell them off as vacation properties to wealthy businessmen who come here for the rapidly disappearing halibut fishing.

I hate that we ship everything (everything we eat, everything we wear, everything we use to clean our carpets or fix our vehicle) a thousand miles or more. I hate that after we've used it, we ship it back a thousand miles to a landfill in Washington.

But then. I lay in bed, where there are no sounds of traffic and I listen to the lap of the waves on the beach. I walk the dog along the river and watch the eagles pick their supper out of the salmon-clogged, shade-dappled pools. I won't find this anywhere else. Yeah, the weather is shitty and Alaskans are annoying. Still, I'm proud to have been here. To have seen as much of Alaska as I have (from Barrow to Nome to Bethel to Metlakatla). I had my Alaska adventure, seen caribou and moose and polar bears and grizzly bears. I've been lowered out of helicopters to mountainsides and sinking ships. I've attended potlatches and Native dances. I've been out with subsistence hunters and fishermen, camping in the mountains and lost the ocean. But, now it's time to move on. Thanks, Alaska.

Moving on

My last hike in Haines. The doc I work with and I went scouting for goat in the mountains. There was a little trail for the first part of the hike, up to a cabin, but the final 1500' was mainly bushwacking. It was quite steep- goat country- but so gorgeous and peaceful. Peaceful until I sat on an anthill, that is. Two days later, my legs are so sore I can hardly walk.

4th of July, Haines AK

Who doesn't love a parade?

6/30

Saturday was grey and dark, with 20+ knot winds and hard, spitting wind. I've lived in SE AK for too long, though, and decided that wasn't going to stop me from getting out. So, I went for a hike.

I went up Mt Ripinsky, which is about 3500 feet. It felt good to be out, and most of the hike was in the trees, so the wind wasn't as bad. Not a lot of photo opportunities, due to the nasty weather, but it was a nice way to spend a couple of hours.




Sunday, I woke up pleasantly sore to a bright blue sky and almost 60 degrees. The day just got more beautiful, and my legs just got more sore. I did eventually walk into town to get groceries, where I shot some hoops and played on the swings, but another hike was beyond my poor quadraceps.

Such is life.

June 1st

So, the last week (Memorial Day Weekend) was one for the books. Dennis came up from Sitka on Tuesday and the weather suddenly turned from 40's and slashing rain to 70's and sunshine. On Thursday we took a Jeep-ful of tools and parts 20 miles up the road to the small village of Klukwan (pop: 130) to hold a bike clinic. We met a bunch of kids and bike riding adults, fixed a bunch of bikes and enjoyed the sunshine. Lucy laid around and played with the kids.



On the way home we found a bunch of morel mushrooms, growing by the side of the road. Dinner that night was morels and fiddleheads, sauted with garlic and olive oil, and a bottle of champagne, eaten on the beach in the back yard.

The rest of the weekend was spent picnicking on beaches,


hiking trails, cookouts with friends, and the 16th Annual Haines Brewfest.









Every day was sunny and gorgeous.



Plenty of whales


and loons and, of course, eagles.




I'm over halfway done with this four month long rotation, and it's going to be hard to leave.

Haines update

I've moved into my house sitting arrangement, which should see me through the end of this rotation in July. The house is gorgeous- right on the water so I look over Chilkat inlet into 4000' peaks. Every evening there are sea lions, whales, eagles and a variety of ducks in my back yard. I've got a wood stove for heat and cooking, and running water that is piped in from the stream out running through the property. It is incredibly peaceful and I love it. Unfortunately, no internet. No blog updates. I can check my e-mail infrequently during the day at work.

It's a small price to pay for this, though:

3920'

We went for a hike today. Hit two peaks, one 3920', the other 3650. 10 miles in just under 10 hours. Awesome day. Awesome. It's so quiet, and walking like that for 10 hours creates a meditative state as you just put one foot in front of the other. Of course, when you're totally at peace, you step on your own snowshoe and take a face plant into the snow. Which is also zen.

Haines pictures

Finally got some pictures downloaded from HNS. This place is really beautiful.

From last weekend's hike.




The view from the back porch in the morning, after a run




A walk to the beach this afternoon.

Haines

I arrived in Haines, AK last Sunday. Haines is a small town, even compared to Sitka, and more rugged climatalogically than the rest of Southeast Alaska. Less rain but more snow. It's right on the water and surrounded three-sixty by mountains. Drop-dead, take-your-breath away gorgeous.

The clinic where I'm working has two of the most talented and devoted doctors I have ever met. The docs here are the first I've met in my training who are willing to discuss the philosophy of medicine, something that intrigues me. One doc told me "I don't really do anything here. I listen and usually the patient heals themself". Memorizing the appropriate antibiotic is easy (even easier to just look it up) but having the humility and generosity of spirit to invest in your patient is harder to learn. Perhaps it can't be taught at all. Perhaps you have to teach yourself, if you're willing.

I went to a talent show last night and the auditorium was standing room only. We watched two little kids singing "Bill Grogan's Goat" and a girl played "Old McDonald Had a Farm" on her violin. Children danced or played the piano, a boy played the drums, and one chubby little girl in a white dress sang "A few Of My Favorite Things". The high school kids in the audience went crazy for every performer, screaming out children's names and whistling. After the show, I saw three or four people who I already knew and was able to compliment their children by name. I went to bed feeling warm and content.

This morning (Saturday) I walked 20 minutes down the road to a trailhead where I gained 3000 feet in 3 miles. The view took in two rivers, a bay, and mountains upon mountains. It had been raining when I woke up, but the weather had cleared by the time I hit the trail. On the summit, above the trees, I listened to Bach on my ipod and laid in the snow in the sun and watched the thin clouds race and tumble across the sapphire sky.

It's no Mayberry, though; no Northern Exposure. I've seen patients who are dealing with meth or coke addictions, teenagers pregnant and girls with eating disorders. A strong community and beautiful mountains can't protect you from rape and incest and domestic abuse. It makes me look hard at what I want from this profession, where I want to be in 10 years. There's money to be made in medicine, certainly, but I already know that isn't my priority. I want to be a good person; I want to be happy; I want to live in the bosom of a happy and healthy family in whatever form that takes. A good provider here could make a real difference in people's lives if she knows when to shut up and listen.

Juneau

I'm in the state capital for a month, doing a rotation at the local emergency room. It's good to be back in Southeast Alaska, with the rain and the eagles, the evergreens and the water. I am living in a converted garage. It's warm and cozy, but has only intermittent internet. ER is interesting and busy, days go by quickly. I think I'll leave this rotation with some insight on the use/misuse of the ER. For instance- first thing yesterday we saw a very sick baby having seizures with a high fever. This was followed by a string of people looking for Vicodin for their backs, and a couple schizophrenic patients waiting for admission to the mental health unit. The docs I work with are very knowledgeable and patient, but I'll be interested to hear their thoughts on working in the department and access to care for people.

One more week in Anchorage. It's bitter cold (-8F) and beautiful with crisp, clear days and just enough snow to make everything bright in the early afternoon sun. I am fortunate to work close enough to where I live that I can walk my commute. It's about 40 minutes each way (longer if there's lots of fresh snow). I walk through a park, around a lake. I see beaver and moose on my way in at times. A long walk twice a day is a great way to center my mind, to relax and focus.

My Nan died yesterday after 5 days in a coma. She, like many others of her generation, was a fighter. She fought to keep her home and family running. When the last of six children were finally out of the house and settled, she battled with Granddad's Alzheimer's disease. After he passed on, she has struggled for the last decade with cancer. Up until the end, she did not know how to let go, how to stop fighting. I hope that she finally knew peace and that, if there is an afterlife, she is with my mom, and her family and loved ones. I will always remember her in the kitchen (how trite), flour up to her elbows, kneading bread; or lying on the couch, covered with dogs and cats, reading a book; her love of the winter and learning to ski at a time in life when most women were settling down. A strong woman and a good one, I hope that I take after her.




Before She Died

by Karen Chase

When I look at the sky now, I look at it for you.
As if with enough attention, I could take it in for you.

With all the leaves gone almost from
the trees, I did not walk briskly through the field.

Late today with my dog Wool, I lay down in the upper field,
he panting and aged, me looking at the blue. Leaning

on him, I wondered how finite these lustered days seem
to you, A stand of hemlock across the lake catches

my eye. It will take a long time to know how it is
for you. Like a dog's lifetime -- long -- multiplied by sevens.

Walking home

Alces alces gigas, the Alaskan race of moose is the largest of all moose types- he stands 6.5' at the shoulder and can have antlers that span 6' across. Saw this fellow on the way home one day.

From Wikipedia:
A moose's body structure, with a large heavy body suspended on long spindly legs, makes these animals particularly dangerous when hit by motor vehicles. Such collisions are often fatal for both the moose and motorist. This has led to the development of a vehicle test in Scandinavia referred to as the "moose test" (Älgtest in Swedish, Elch Test in German). The term was invented by the Swedish motor magazine "Teknikens värld" for a test where the tested car needs to make a sharp S-turn at high speed. The term "moose test" came to common knowledge when Mercedes A-klasse badly failed the test and turned over. German reporters didn't see the relevance of the test, and the testers replied that that kind of maneuver was important when trying to avoid collisions with moose. The test was not referred to as moose test in Sweden prior to this incident, but simply as an evasion manoeuver test, intended to test the car's ability to perform an evasive manoeuver to avoid colliding with any obstacle suddenly occurring on the road. However, since the Swedish journalist talking to the German press didn't know what "evasive manoeuver test" would be called in German, he simply called it "Elch test" - which quickly spread in German media and then stuck. Generally, upon impact the bumper of the car will break the moose's legs. The main body of the moose will then collide with the windshield, often with disastrous effect to both motorist and animal. In a collision of this nature, a car's airbags may not deploy or be of much use if they do