Deep Woods Off

2016/06/18

Nature’s Dance of Light & Sound

Boiling Clouds Before Storm2 - Fix

Boiling cloud line before a thunderstorm in West Chester, Ohio

As those of you who follow this blog are well aware I am fascinated with weather and gravitate towards the extremes in particular.  Growing up in the Midwest I saw all kinds of extreme meteorological conditions from ice storms to heat waves, blizzards to cold snaps and tornadoes to severe thunderstorms.  Without question one of my favorite kinds of intense weather involves the aforementioned severe thunderstorms.  There is something just so energizing and exciting about powerful storms capable of dropping hail and heavy rain as well as lighting the sky with intense lightning followed by explosive thunder!  While living in SE Michigan I became a trained weather spotter for the NWS (National Weather Service) and functioned in that capacity while living in the Cincinnati area as well.  I knew when I relocated to south central Alaska I was would see far fewer thunderstorms and those I did experience would be much less intense.  We just do not have the necessary long term heating along with sharply defined cold fronts or ‘dry lines’ traveling at high speeds and able to crash into hot, humid air masses.  We do get some uplift based on the geography – mainly the many mountain ranges – but these storms rarely reach moderate levels let alone severe.  In general our thunderstorms are mainly what some call ‘air mass’ storms which are of mild to moderate intensity, generally form against mountain ranges in the afternoons and quickly fall apart once they push off the front ranges.

I never expected I would so miss strong to severe thunderstorms nor did I realize just how much a part of my daily spring to summer existence was defined by the flash of lightning and consequent rumble of thunder.  But as I reflect upon the lack of thunderstorms in south-central Alaska I also remember I was not always so fond of these events.  In fact, when quite a bit younger, I was actually terrified of that ‘flash-crash’ sequence so much I couldn’t sleep when thunderstorms were active.  To this day I do not why I was so terrified; I’d never had a bad experience with said storms nor did I know anyone who had endured anything negative from such storms with the possible exception of a flooded basement.  But there was no denying my fear.  It became so bad my father finally decided to intervene; he began to take me out on our back porch when thunderstorms were rolling in and explain to me what they were, how they worked and how to count the seconds from a lightning flash to the resultant thunder as a means of determining a rough range to the lightning (by counting the number of seconds from the flash to the thunder and then dividing by ‘five’ to get the miles away).  Thanks to his patience my ungrounded fear slowly bled away and I came to truly love strong thunderstorms.

In fact, my love of strong thunderstorms grew to the point I often would wander outside during such storms just to experience their power and awe ‘up close and personal’.  In general this wasn’t really dangerous, although by today’s wimpy standards such behavior would be defined as ‘extremely dangerous’, but a few times I was most definitely ‘in harm’s way’.  More than once I’ve smelled ozone after a very close lightning strike; one must be almost ‘danger close’ to be able to perceive this odor.  And one time I actually ‘felt’ the remnants of a very strong,  close by strike.  Given the rain such storms generate I was almost always walking bare foot and this time was no different.  I remember the ‘flash-boom’ sequence being almost instantaneous meaning a very close lightning stroke; it was followed by a mild electric shock at my feet.  In hindsight I was far too close to said strike but luckily for me all I received was a warning shock..!  None of these experiences dampened my enthusiasm for powerful thunderstorms and I still possess said enthusiasm.

Back in May I was awakened around 04:00 by a loud blast; in a nod towards both how few thunderstorms I’ve seen since moving up here and how much I’m becoming an Alaskan upon being awakened I first thought it was an earthquake.  But then I heard more thunder off to the WSW and I knew it had been a healthy stroke of lightning from a thunderstorm.  Both my canine companions, Anana and Qanuk, appeared at the edge of my bed obviously concerned regarding the sudden, loud noise so early in the morning.  I sat up and took a few minutes to assure them everything was fine and it had just been thunder.  Then I saw another flash and immediately arose, put on some clothing, went downstairs and out onto the back porch to watch the show.  I was only outside for maybe a minute before I came back indoors and liberally applied a coating of ‘Deep Woods Off’ before returning to the back porch with my canine companions.  Although both remained a bit skittish regarding the thunder we had a great time.  During this it occurred to me I was passing on my father’s wisdom in soothing the dogs and assuring them there was nothing to fear.

Funny how someone could be so terrified of a natural phenomenon, learn to understand and then appreciate it, come to truly revel in its existence and then end up moving away from it and sorely miss its presence.  Life is all about choices and their consequences; I knew when I decided to relocate to Alaska I was basically giving up the opportunity to experience severe thunderstorms.  I had hoped maybe extreme winter weather might make up for the absence of said storms.  While I truly miss strong to severe thunderstorms I also truly love my ‘new’ home so this is one time I’m still ‘okay’ with the consequences of my decision.  But I’d be lying if I do not admit to eagerly watching as clouds darken the sky, hoping maybe I’ll once again see that flash and hear the resultant thunder…

Air Mass Tunderstorm Building

Severe thunderstorm over Cincinnati as viewed from a northern suburb (West Chester, OH)

2015/03/17

Vernal Equinox Vexations

Although it is actually St. Patrick’s Day as I write this piece my thoughts have already drifted forward this week to Friday, March 20th which is the Vernal Equinox or at least it will be at 14:44 AKDT here in Talkeetna. For me this is a much more significant date as I have no known Irish blood and I long ago gave up the need to drink green beer all day long especially as I usually had to go to work the next day. This Vernal Equinox will be the second one I’ll experience since I relocated to ‘The Great Land’ in August of 2013. This is meaningful to me because many of you have asked when will I no longer be a ‘Newbie Alaskan’; I arbitrarily decided that after I’ve experienced two complete years in my new home it will be time to update my moniker. As such I have just the upcoming spring and summer before that time occurs. Okay, one could make a case for me not having actually experienced a real Alaskan winter, let alone two, but that is not my fault; I was here and ready but Mother Nature had other ideas.

With the approach of this equinox I find myself once again trying to prepare for what it means; the beginning of some of my least favorite seasons. Indeed, I find the spring up here to be my least favorite season followed closely by summer. There are a myriad of reasons for my feelings but the single largest centers on daylight or, more accurately, the inevitability of almost 20 hours of direct sunlight by the Summer Solstice. Already we are seeing 11 hours and 56 minutes of direct light and that will reach 12 hours and 14 minutes in just three more days before maxing out at 19 hours and 55 minutes on the Solstice which falls on June 20th. To many people it will seem strange that I find so much light to be a negative; for them I can only present this scenario – there is no night sky, no stars and no aurora from mid-May through mid-August! Initially I do not mind the ever-increasing light but by late June it is wearing thin and by mid-July I’ve had enough. I know I’m a sky watcher and that’s especially true of the night sky but somehow it escaped me that I’d be doing without for almost a quarter of every year!

Some folks find it strange I can be so negatively affected by long periods of light yet have no issues with just five hours of direct sunlight in December. Indeed, most folks I’ve spoken with think that much darkness would drive them insane but I don’t even notice it until I begin to see the days lengthening in early January. Of course other factors come into play; the darkness happens during winter and I live for cold and snow. The lengthening days promise the coming of mosquitoes and tourists; both are aspects of Alaskan living I’m still coming to grips with and not all that successfully at least to this point.  I have learned how to deal with the mosquitoes – it’s called ‘Deep Woods Off’ in copious quantities along with long-sleeved shirts and long pants – such that I am beginning to develop a somewhat sanguine outlook regarding these little bloodsuckers. Last year I learned that the best way to minimize the impact of the tourists is to completely avoid the village from May through early September just as the locals do. We basically surrender the village to the masses during that time period knowing that without those tourist dollars Talkeetna would not be half the place it has become. What I have yet to discover is a way to ignore all the noise they create. One of the joys of living here is the ‘immense silence’ that surrounds us in the off-season; sadly this disappears as the numbers of tourists increases. And along with the warmth comes the ever-present dust; this entire area sits on land that was riddled with glaciers which have since retreated.  In so doing they grind up stone and earth and create a very fine dust called ‘glacial flour’ and it is everywhere. This is a dual edged sword as the abundance of this material allows water to quickly drain away which helps make break up less muddy and wet. But said ‘flour’ is blown around by even a light wind and if there’s a way to keep it out of one’s home I have yet to learn the secret.

So all told it shouldn’t be a surprise that I so favor the winter and find some aspects of the warmer months a bit less than ideal. But life in Alaska is really all about making compromises; far more so than anywhere else I’ve ever called ‘home’. Because I so love the semi-rural lifestyle, the majestic landscape, the incredible wildlife, the wonderful albeit quirky people and that amazing winter night sky I am okay with having to deal with mosquitoes, noisy tourists and dust come the spring and summer. There were a myriad of possible retirement locations I considered before settling on Talkeetna and almost all of them in the Lower 48 would have been much cheaper in terms of the COL but I had been well and truly bitten by the ‘Alaska Bug’ in the fall of 1996 so once I realized I could retire up here there were no other options for me. And as I continue to settle into this lifestyle and learn more and more about me new home I am always reminded that just like life, Alaska living is all about making choices and living with the consequences. As such I think I can deal with some mosquitoes, noisy tourists and dust..! 

How would you like to see this kind of light at 04:07 in the 'morning'..? This was the Summer Solstice +2 hours in 2014.

How would you like to see this kind of light at 04:07 in the ‘morning’..? This was the Summer Solstice +2 hours in 2014.

2014/07/01

Latest Airborne Scourge

Now that summer has officially arrived it’s no surprise there are a few annoyances tied to the season; the two leading the ‘annoying’ category are the mosquitoes and the tourists.  I’ve written about the latter ‘ad nauseum’; the ambivalence I feel towards the masses are shared by all the locals.  Tourist dollars keep Talkeetna healthy but to get those dollars we must deal with hordes of RVs, trailers, fifth wheels, campers and people strung out along Main Street.  The latest insults are those that feel it’s okay to walk down the center of the Spur in town and Main Street; they might move for traffic or they might not.  This is just plain irritating and more than once I’ve wanted to lay on the horn and give the real stragglers a good push but I’ve reigned in my frustrations and remained ‘civilized’ while waiting them out.  The only solution I’ve found to this point is to avoid going into the village as much as possible; without question we just surrender Talkeetna to the tourists from mid-May through mid-September.  More than once I’ve longed for an over-protective moose cow with a spring calf to wander into the village; the tourists are dumb enough to want to pose ‘up close and personal’ with the wildlife and that would no doubt winnow down their numbers!

However, by far the most annoying summer insult are the masses of mosquitoes.  There seems to be no end to their number but I have noticed an ‘evolution’ to their population.  In mid-April through mid-May they were mainly the large, slow-moving variety.  I’ve speculated these had to be carry-overs from the previous year given their size as there’s no way they could grow so large in such a short time especially as the night-time lows were still solidly freezing any liquid water.  I’m guessing these critters find a way to survive the winters maybe by hiding in decaying vegetable matter which gets covered with snow; the slow decay releases enough heat to allow them to keep from freezing solid.  Once the spring sun melts off enough of the snow pack they once again take to the air and begin the mosquito season.  By early to mid-June their numbers appear to dwindle; perhaps they are not built to live for two full seasons?  If this was the end of the story it would be great but sadly this is not the case.

They seem slowly supplanted by very small versions of themselves; I’d guess the smaller mosquitoes are maybe one fifth to one eighth the size of the large ones.  However, they are even more voracious and what they lack in size they make up for in sheer numbers.  Based upon their smaller size they also appear to have a number of advantages over their larger kin.  They are much harder to hear and its virtually impossible to feel them land upon one’s bare skin.  As such they are a real pain to keep at bay.  I’ve yet to discover a means to keep them from coming in on the dog’s coats which means I’ve now adopted a new routine.  Any time the dogs have been outdoors, regardless of duration, I keep them in the mud room for maybe fifteen minutes and then I enter with my trusty can of ‘Country Vet Fly Spray’ which has a fairly potent pyrethrin content.  I briefly brush the dogs watching for any departing mosquitoes and then give each of them a spritz of the spray.  The spray is approved for food surfaces and hence is not toxic although I’d prefer not having to use it at all.  Then I let the dogs into the main house, give them another fifteen minutes and start a ‘search and destroy’ mission.  Without a doubt I will find and kill at least five additional mosquitoes.

Even doing all this does not insure a mosquito free dwelling; I learned a month back that its wise to make a final pass through the main floor just prior to crashing with the same spray.  I give each corner and all overhangs a brief spritz of the spray before heading upstairs to my bedroom.  This pretty much guarantees I will get a good night’s sleep sans mosquito bites; in the morning I clean off all the mosquito corpses on the window sills.  Of course with each new morning we begin the entire process anew.  I’m just thankful I’ve discovered ‘Deep Woods Off’ which is the only product I’ve tried that keeps the outdoor mosquitoes at bay when I’m outside.  It is 25% DEET and while the substance is supposed to be safe when used as directed I still am not a fan.  But then I’m not sanguine with running the risk of exsanguination every time I walk outside either; given the options I’ll use the DEET.

Not that I needed another reason to favor the Talkeetna winters but this issue surely supports my love of the snow and cold.  I can deal with -25 F air temps by just dressing properly; the only way to attempt to deal with the hordes of vampire-like mosquitoes is to employ chemical repellents and cross one’s fingers.  Given the mosquitoes and the tourists I have yet another couple of solid reasons to yearn for the first hard frost…

2014/05/31

To Every Season…

I awoke this morning to the sound of rain against the metal roof and my German Shepherd Dog’s (Qanuk) slight but definite urgings that even though it was just 05:43 it was time to get up.  Qanuk doesn’t have my Alaskan Malamute’s (Anana) manners; she has always shied away from any interaction with me in the morning until I am awake.  Not sure why this is, I only know it to be true.  Qanuk lies next to me and very softly ‘talks’ to me with a series of grunts, groans and whines; if I in any way acknowledge his amazing repertoire of vocalizations he immediately increases both the volume and the repetition of his noises.  He knows if he does this long enough he will eventually make such an absurd noise that I will bust out laughing and then I have to arise.  I’ve encouraged both my canine companions to be vocal with me and while this is a dual edged sword I do enjoy ‘talking’ with them.

Anyway, as I stretched out my legs prior to arising it occurred to me I hadn’t heard that rhythmic ‘tap tap’ of rain against the roof since last fall.  I warned Qanuk as I arose that he wasn’t going to like the morning weather as it was raining; of late I’ve been taking both dogs out for an early morning walk to start accumulating my current target of 8,000 daily steps (working on making 10,000 daily steps) and to allow them to stretch their legs and work those ole noses.  However, given the 40 F air temp and sheeting rain this would not be one of those mornings.  Still and all it was soothing to again hear the rain and see it peppering the white and black pines and birch trees outside my kitchen window as I prepared my morning coffee.  I began to reflect upon my first ten months in Alaska from an environmental perspective and then compared this to what I’ve experienced while living in the lower 48.  No surprise in many ways its quite different and true to ‘Alaskan reality’ most of it is exaggerated over what I experienced in SE Michigan and other Midwest locations I’ve called ‘home’.

Fall is the season with which I have the most Alaskan experience as I not only experienced a full season last year but in my previous trips from 1996 through 2005 I almost always visited in September.  Last fall was rather aberrant in terms of precipitation with September seeing 192% of normal rainfall and October a whooping 291% of normal; in addition both months were well above normal in terms of temperature.  The beauty of fall in the lower 48 is based largely upon hardwood trees and there just are not many of these in south central Alaska so our fall colors are mainly yellow and gold.  In addition the time the first leaves began to change color until winds blew the last of them from the birches was just a bit more than two weeks.  And this occurred by early October which is far earlier than I experienced in the lower 48.  November started out warm but finally succumbed to the Arctic air and our first measurable snowfall was a 13″ dump across November 9th and 10th.  This was a bit earlier than I was used to seeing in SE Michigan.

Our winter was truly anomalous and in a huge way.  November was actually a bit cooler than usual with December seeing a bit above normal temps until the end when it started into an extremely warm cycle which extended across almost all of January.  In fact, January 2014 set records all over the state for warmth and was the warmest on record for this area.  Our precipitation all but vanished which was a good thing because when it did occur it was often nasty freezing rain.  February saw more seasonable temps occur but the snow did not return; we ended our winter precipitation with just 33% of normal snow pack by early April.  While much of the lower 48 set records for a harsh winter Alaska set records for warmth and lack of snowfall.

Spring arrived early and with it break up occurred much earlier than normal.  I was house hunting up here from April 7th through April 13th in 2013 and waded 30+ inches of snow pack and saw day time highs well below freezing and overnight lows often into the minus single digits and even a couple of minus double-digit mornings.  Yet by April 1st this year we had only a foot of mostly ice remaining on the ground and it vanished by the end of the month.  The locals tell me this was at least a month early but then the air temps in April continued the well above normal routine.  With the dramatic increase in sunshine its easy to see why the spring seemed to just explode upon the landscape; we had a muddy period common to break up but it only lasted for maybe 10 to 12 days and from what I was told that’s about half the usual time.  By early May the snow and ice were history and the mosquitoes out in force; of course they were biting while there was still a foot of snow/ice on the ground so this wasn’t a surprise.  Around the second week in May the birch trees suddenly exploded into life by shedding incredible amounts of yellow/green pollen followed by leaves; within a week all the trees were sporting leaves and within another week they were fully dressed down in summer plumage.

And so it is I find myself wondering what the summer will bring.  Granted I did experience almost all of August up here last year but it was largely showery and warm.  There’s no doubt the mosquitoes will be nasty but I have discovered ‘Deep Woods Off’ which functions amazingly well in this mosquito saturated environment.  After applying it to any exposed skin I’m actually able to spend hours outside and suffer only a few bites even as I’m working and sweating.  As stated I use this on any exposed skin and rub dryer sheets on my external clothing and I’m good to go.  This is a miracle as I’m a true ‘mosquito magnet’!!  I’m dealing with the current dearth of darkness as best I can; it never gets dark any longer and as of today the sun rose at 04:25 AKDT and will set at 23:33 AKDT yielding 19 hours, 8 minutes and 7 seconds of direct light.  And we’re still three weeks from the Summer Solstice!  I knew from previous experience the extended light would be more of a challenge for me than the darkness of winter and that’s been borne out thus far.  In true Alaskan style I’m learning to adapt to the extremes although I still prefer the extended darkness to a total lack of night.  I’m not exaggerating the latter; I was up at 02:20 this morning and outside it was light enough to clearly see the trees, their foliage and even ground features – I believe this is termed ‘nautical twilight’.  And this was with a solid overcast as well.

Local wildlife have their own rhythms within the seasonal cycles; the moose are largely ubiquitous although they do disappear from early April through early May when I believe they are birthing their spring calves back in the boreal forest.  The bears are around from middle to late April through early November.  The foxes (mainly Red) seem to be year round as is the single Wolverine that apparently calls this area ‘home’.  There is a shift in avian population with the waterfowl, robins and similar disappearing in October and returning in early May.  The Chickadees, Downy Woodpeckers and Red Breasted Nuthatches seem to winter over as do the huge ravens which can almost rival the Bald Eagles in size.  I didn’t see the large Magpies during winter but they are once again in attendance now that its warmer so they may migrate as well.  There just are not a lot of Red Squirrels in this area but I know they remain across winter.

I’m only now (May 31st) beginning to see a few flowers in the boreal forest, most are small and tend towards white although I’ve seen various shades of red and some purples as well.  I know there are many blossoms to come and I suspect this will occur within a week or two.  Without question as spring arrived Nature seemed to go into overdrive regarding life; it literally is an explosion unlike anything I’ve previously witnessed.  Given the abbreviated growing season I guess it’s no surprise that once spring arrives its in a hurry to get down to business.  I’m now coming up on having spent all four seasons in my new home and without question I remain fascinated by and enamored of this magnificent land.  Living up here truly is a ‘give and take’ situation as learning to deal with the mosquitoes and tourists of summer as well as the rain of the late summer/early fall and the mud of break up can be a challenge but then overall its just part of amazing Alaska.  I feel so privileged I can finally live within its mystery and majesty; doing so has really nourished my soul as well as brought me into a much closer relationship with Nature and I couldn’t ask for more.  As such its a true pleasure just to experience Alaska’s many moods and learn to live within her extreme conditions.  Let the adventure continue…!!

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A gorgeous purple-red bloom just off East Barge Drive in the boreal forest

Gorgeous purple flowers along East Barge Drive

Gorgeous purple flowers along East Barge Drive