Snow, snow, go away

Making headway on our basketball court!

Seeing a moose was top on my list of things to do in Alaska.  Each time I mentioned this to someone I was assured that I’d see tons of moose, and that they’re as commonplace as a seagull at the beach in summer.  Despite all my efforts, I found this to be untrue.  But goodness gracious, it has finally happened.  I have officially seen a live moose in its natural habitat.  My sighting occurred while out for a quick walk in the fresh air.  A couple friends and I went to the field behind our grocery store, where the local Fish and Game biologist promised there were moose hanging out.  I didn’t have much hope, as my daily drives past the area each day had proven fruitless.

When my friend jokingly pointed to a black dot on the hill saying “Right there, there’s a moose” I shrugged it off and kept walking.  Upon further inspection however, we found out that he was almost correct; there were actually two moose foraging on the hill.  We walked to a closer vantage to observe the huge and beautiful creatures.  It was funny to watch the baby make its way through the snow-covered ground.  At one point it went through the ice packed snow up to its knee, and reacted in much the same way as a human would – drats!  So now I can cross it off my Alaskan bucket list.

Two moose in the distance

Mama moose

Baby moose, floundering a bit in the snow

The last regular high school session of the year came to a close, but not without a few more highlights.  Students went to the thrift store to pick out a button up shirt and jeans to be worn in the pool to learn some floatation survival skills.  We had plenty of laughs over who could find the best “mom jeans” (pants are always free!) and wackiest shirt.  It made for a massive laundry day, but it was worth it to see these kids blowing and trapping air in their clothes for an impressive amount of buoyancy.  This is one of those skills that could save a life.  The non-swimmer I’ve been working with took her very first strokes on her own on our last day in the pool.  She made up her mind that it was time to try away from the edge, and bingo-bango she did it.  It truly felt like a major accomplishment, and one I’m not soon to forget.

Blowing air bubbles into shirts

Overhead pants flop to capture air

Jumping in to trap air in the tied off pant legs

1, 2, 3, go!

Students this session also finished building an aluminum fishing boat, inspected a local restaurant and our hospital for appropriate food handling and storage, learned how to be the first emergency responder to the scene, and earned their driver’s permits.  The only hitch was our unpredictable weather, and limited resources to combat it.  Believe it or not (I certainly couldn’t), the first days of May brought a fresh layer of sticking snow.  That’s right.  SNOW.  St. Lawrence Island, home to two of the villages in our district got hit the hardest, delaying travel due to a runway that could not be cleared fast enough.  As all of our other students boarded planes and flew away, our five from Gambell and Savoonga were stranded.  I’m still impressed with the resilience and go-with-the-flow attitudes of this population.  We ordered a couple pizzas and were just getting settled back in for the night when the call came from the airport, saying that the runway was clear and five seats had just opened up on the evening flight.  And away they went!

Waking up to snow, May 3rd

My drive into work during yet another snowstorm

The boat!

Inspecting Soap n' Suds, a local restaurant, bar, and laundromat

Taking a ride in the ambulance

Our driver's education crew

Our (temporarily) stranded students, all smiles

The cold and the snow continue.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised as the only month that doesn’t traditionally see snowfall in this area of Alaska is July.  Fortunately, the sun always has a way of lifting my mood, and on days when it peaks through the cloudy sky it’s bliss.  It’s absolutely astounding just how fast we’re gaining light, still at a rate of about seven minutes per day.  I go to bed with hours of daylight remaining, and wake up with the sun high in the sky.  To take advantage of the sunshine, I’ve been hiking every chance I get.  On Friday after work a few of us went up Monument, and were treated to a couple musk oxen, head-butting out their issues.  I never get tired of seeing the various walks of wildlife in this region.

The sun at 7am, Monday, April 23rd

The sun much higher in the sky at 7am, Monday, April 30th

Knockin' noggins

My Max (the dog from the Grinch) impression

Looking out from the top of Monument

The namesake natural rock formation at the top

Scoping out the scene

Not amused

At mini-monument, with the big monument rock in the background

Moose tracks!

After our hike we knew we had hours of daylight left to work with, so we took a drive down the Council Highway (which is little more than a dirt road) to try and catch a glimpse of some seals.  The seals were elusive, however we found ourselves dwarfed by huge snow banks on both sides of the road, resulting from the heavy machinery that came through to plow and open the roads.  Every day the radio announces what mile each of our three main roads is open to; many gain five or more miles a day.  We were also treated to a close-up view of open water.  Yes.  Open, rolling waves.  There are still miles of ice, but the waves are evidence that the ocean is coming back.  We’re getting closer!

The road carved through towering snow

Strange melting snow at the top edge, looked like frosting!

Open water!  It's finally getting here!

Now that's deep snow to have to plow through...