20060531 Armed And Dangerous

Finally, the last day of training. After a bit of in-class and practical instruction using blanks, my fellow interpreters and myself are now the proud custodians of real cans of pepper spray. They come complete with holsters and we are duly authorized to carry them for use on bears. In four previous seasons of bear management here our bear tech Iames Vaughn has yet to use his, but advised us to practice our quick draw. You never know you know.

Three weeks of training are complete. Showtime begins tomorrow with the arrival of 17 elderhostel attendees, senior citizens on educational field trips. Mercifully for them as well as us they bring their own instructors.

Over the past three weeks we have endured training sessions on geology, cultural history, aquatic ecosystems, bear biology, bear behavior, bear management, people management, cpr and first aid, ethics, fire extinguishers, boat operation, ditched aircraft escape, computer hardware and software, how to be an interpreter, and a few I cannot remember.

So at this point we possess a little bit of knowledge on a number of topics, which makes us armed and dangerous.

20060530 Oil and Water

One aspect of working for the National Park Service I have always loved is the mixing of people of different ages and backgrounds. The residence compounds in parks where I have worked are small remote communities, populated with permanent workers and seasonal workers, maintenance workers and law enforcement workers, campground workers and interpreters, bear techs and botanists, people in their 50s and 60s along with those in their 20s. While the permanent staff often have satellite entertainment, many enjoy the camaraderie of the seasonals each busy season. We seasonals rarely watch TV or listen to the radio. We enjoy each other’s company.

Here in Brooks Camp it goes double. Safety being in numbers and what with the possibility of bears about and the surety of the icy water of Naknek Lake, we recreate with other people. We hike together, boat together, bike together, shoot hoops, watch movies and play cards. Potlucks are a park service specialty. Tonight we attended a very special potluck with folks who can have quite a different life from park service employees.

As a general rule the National Park Service refrains from selling goods and services to the visiting public. Two types of concerns fill that role.

Commercial Use Operators [CUAs] do business in a national park on an intermittent or at least non-residential basis. Tour bus operators would be a typical example. In Katmai National Park the tour buses have floats and fly. Once the salmon run and the bears arrive, CUAs will bring many loads of visitors each day.

With a much more permanent presence in national parks are concessionaires. National parks like to hand a concession monopoly to a company to operate restaurants, snack bars, grocery stores, gift shops, equipment rental shops, and tours originating inside the park.

Katmailand has been the concessionaire here for decades. They operate the 16-room lodge, buffet-style restaurant, equipment rentals, and bus trips to the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes. Katmailand has about 3 ½ months each year to make a profit. I’m told their staff works six days per week, live in quarters even tinier than ours, and is not well paid. Concession employees at Sequoia and Everglades work under similar conditions, one exception being the wait staff at the restaurants receiving significant tips.

As a kickoff to the public opening of Brooks Camp on Thursday, tonight Katmailand and the NPS held a joint potluck. In the past I’ve attended these “mixers” in Sequoia National Park. Trouble is, nobody mixes. The parkies stay as one and likewise the concession folks. We might see one or two crossovers. Tonight was different for the most part. We stirred well and kept oil and water blended for a good part of the evening. As the evening wore on, the two separated as is their nature, but I very much enjoyed the temporary mixture.



After a bit of training today I feel compelled to make a disclaimer, especially since from here on out photos may show others and me in uniform. This running account of my summer in Katmai National Park is strictly personal. I make no apology for it being Tim-centric; as much as a communication to all of you, it is a journal for me. More importantly, I write this from a personal not professional perspective and do not claim to represent the National Park Service.

20060529 R E S P E C T

Back in March when I accepted my assignment to Brooks Camp, exitedly I began telling friends and Everglades visitors. The typical response was, "Where is Brooks Camp?" In Katmai National Park. "Where is Katamai National Park" In Alaska. "Is it near Denali?" Not really. "Where in Alaska?" In southwest Alaska. At the base of the Alaska peninsula. With no light bulb coming on, I finally resort to this: Have you seen the photo of the grizzly bear standing in a low waterfall catching a jumping salmon? That's where I'm going!

Brooks Camp is centered in each of these images, to help you locate me.

In the defense of all of those who had not heard of Katmai National Park or Brooks Camp, neither had I until my former Everglades supervisor came here to work three years ago. As I recall he went through with me roughly the same series of questions outlined above.

This explanation of where I work is not new. For seven winters in Everglades National Park, when visitors asked where I spent the summer I replied Sequoia National Park. "Where is that" California. "I'm not sure I've heard of it." Have you heard of Yosemite? "Oh yes! I've been there." Fly like a crow 90 miles [145 km] south and you are in Sequoia National Park.

I have worked in the home of the largest tree by volume alive on planet Earth and I currently work in the place with the largest concentration of unhunted brown bears in the world. Still, I get no respect.

20060528 No Man's Land

I stand in No Man's Land--at least it will be soon. The spot next to Brooks Falls where I am standing will be closed to entry June 15 until September. While just to my right is the safety of the elevated viewing platform, when the salmon arrive several bears will be within a few feet of where I stand either catching them jumping the falls or eating the calorie-rich fish.

Could I possibly look more geeky? On my day off I am just a tourist. Strapped with two cameras, binoculars, hand lense, bird guide and time, I explore the area where I work. This will be one of my last chances for relative solitude for a while. A scant three days from now the other tourists begin to arrive, though in small numbers at first. Then in July with the salmon run, Brooks Camp is overrun.

By the way, the neckerchief is not my attempt at the Roy Rogers look. White sox, a kind of blackfly, have been reported in the area. While I have not had the pleasure, I am told they surreptitiously remove a small chunk of flesh, often on the neck. This leads to a small river of blood trickling down the neck.

I do not know which is worse--a very small chance of an ugly encounter with a bear or a 100% chance of a great many white sox. Either way, it's no man's land.

20060526 Buds Bursting

Winter had been holding on tightly here in southwest Alaska. Up until four days ago dripping cold gripped this place most days. Suddenly, Spring supplants Winter. Temperatures have soared into the 70s and the green-up has begun.

Buds that have been waiting since perhaps September have burst and with 20 hours or so of daily sunlight are rapidly developing into leaves.

Brooks Camp Interpretive Rangers-in-the-making have been waiting through three weeks of training and, like the buds are ready to burst. Next week we don the gray and green of the National Park Service or the khaki of a volunteer. Our intense experiences with bears and the visiting public over the coming weeks will mature us into seasoned rangers. With luck we will not wilt before fall.

20060525 Be It Ever So Humble

My home is a tiny efficiency cabin consisting of a living/sleeping area, a kitchen, and a bathroom. I share it with Travis, a law enforcement ranger in his first season with the Park Service. The walk to the auditorium, where our classroom training sessions take place, takes about three minutes.

Today we learned a little bit about the lifeways of native peoples in the Brooks Camp area. Native peoples lived here for over 4000 years, though perhaps not continuously. They fished, hunted for caribou and other mammals, and ate local plant material. At least some of them lived in semi-subterranean homes known as barabaras. We visited a number of barabara sites this morning, including a partial reconstruction. An excavation 3-4’ deep was lined with split cottonwood limbs arranged vertically. Within this low wall four heavy timbers supported a roof structure. The roof and walls were lined with sod, brush, and sometimes gravel. The entrance was a semi-tunnel, dug lower than the floor of the main room. This design kept the heat from escaping through the entrance. Heat and light came from a fire or from an oil lamp. The lamp would be a large cobblestone worked to create a basin. Wicks could be fashioned by rolling moss between the fingers. Barabaras came unfurnished. Occupants sat on the floor against the wall.

I am neither native nor planning to stay for over 4000 years—I’ll be here about four months. Until today I believed I was really roughing it, what with shared quarters, no telephone, and no stores nearby. Now I understand that my home is luxurious indeed.

20060524 An Old Dog Is Forced To Learn New Tricks

There is so much to learn in a first season here in Katmai National Park. Each day’s training takes us to the base of a new mountain of subject matter and perhaps a few steps toward the distant summit. It is up to us, through independent study, to get as close as we can to the top. Perhaps it is just my perception, but as I get older the climb up that learning curve seems to get steeper and steeper. Today we began Geology Training, Cultural Training, and Computer Software Training.

The lightweight porous volcanic rock is pumice. Could it also be andescite, dacite, or rhyolite? Can I remember the pyroclastic flow products from the largest volcanic eruption of the 20th century?

Can we refer to the native peoples as Eskimos? No, that is insulting. Wait, that is insulting only for peoples outside of Alaska. The story of native peoples in Alaska is a complex one.


Do I use iPhoto or Keynote? How do I undo? [Amy and Roy]
For someone who first used DOS and then a couple of versions of Windows, the MAC operating system may not be a whole new ball game but the opponent certainly has changed.

20060523 How Close Is Too Close?

How close is too close? The general rule here at Brooks Camp is 50 yards. We may not approach a bear within 50 yards. If a bear approaches us and gets within 50 yards, we should move back. Part of the interpreter's job is to assure that visitors follow this rule.

This view is from an observation platform adjacent to a floating bridge over the Brooks River. If bears approach the bridge closer than 50 yards, the ranger on the platform closes the bridge. If bears remain close, the bridge may close for one, two, or even three hours or more.

Visitors use the bridge to travel from their cabins or campground to Brooks Falls, where the bears catch salmon in July. July visitors have spent thousands of dollars to witness the bear fishing derby, so many do not want the bridge closed. Once closed, they would like it opened ASAP. Alternatively, they may be returning from the falls for dinner at the lodge or to catch their plane back to King Salmon. You must decide and decide now.

How far is 50 yards in the direction of the red arrow? I realize that you do not have a point of reference, but go ahead and make your best guess then scroll down.

x

x

x

x

x

If you look closely you may see my colleague Greg Fahl standing on the bridge and my supervisor Peter Hamel on the island 50 yards away. Were you close?

I will be making this decision regularly over the course of my summer here. I hope I am close, but not too close.

20060522 The Last Box

Brooks Camp is not open to the public for another week. For now all of the float planes touching down on the waters of Naknek Lake are carrying staff, our possessions, our food, and food for the lodge. Since arriving in Brooks Camp ten days ago I have been acting like Tattoo in Fantasy Island whenever I hear a float plane arriving. "The plane! The plane!" Within two days all of the food I shipped from Anchorage had landed in Brooks Camp and was stuffed into every nook and cranny of the tiny cabin I share with Travis.

Great. I'll not starve. Still, I was not whole. A month ago I mailed a 70# box parcel post from California to Brooks Camp. Inside were conveniences, not necessities. A down comforter. Bread machine. Tasty dried tortellinis and raviolis from Trader Joes. Shoes. Scissors. Sewing Kit. Computer speakers. About 100 DVDs. With each arriving plane I hoped that my goodies had arrived. With each arriving plane I was disappointed.

Today that last box arrived at last! I am a happy boy. Tunes, movies, and fresh bread. What more could I ask for?

20060522 Bear Training

Two days of bear training began today. I've been through bear training talks a number of times before, but the others have been focused on black bears in Sequoia/Kings. Katmai NP has no black bears, only brown bears. BIG brown bears. Males in fall can weigh 900 pounds or more. Brown bears and grizzly bears are the same species. By convention, coastal Urus arctos are called brown bears, while those of the interior are the grizzlies.

Brown bear behavior toward other brown bears runs the gamut from tender to cruel. The image shows a young bear at play. Isn't it cute? But when it grows up, it can be less than cute as an horrific video made right here demonstrated. A dominant male brown bear standing in shallow Brooks River attacks a smaller but still quite large male bear. Eventually the attacker kills the victim and feeds upon him.

From tender to cruel...reminds me of another species.

20060516 Polar Bear Club

This post covers events of 20050516.

Yesterday icebergs [actually floating ice as the the lake melts] were floating on Naknek Lake near Brooks Camp. Today, many of us, including myself in a float coat and Tim Chu in a 'gumby suit' swam 70 yards through that water then pulled ourselves unassisted into a skiff. When pulling myself into the skiff I had no feeling from above my waist to my toes. Later as my toes warmed the stinging exceeded any pain I experienced during the swim, but was about equal to the dread that gripped me beforehand.

Since we could have become hypothermic, we were not allowed to take a hot shower afterwards to warm ourselves. Hot water on the skin of the arms and legs would trigger the body to once again circulate blood to and from the extremities. This would bring cold blood to the heart, possibly leading to a heart attack. Thus, three hours later I am still cold...on the inside.


Why would a boy raised in San Diego and spending winters in South Florida's Everglades jump into water not much warmer than an ice cube? Today and for the next three days I am attending the Motorboat Operator Certification Course [MOCC] that the Department of the Interior requires of anyone operating a park boat. While boat operation is not part of my job, I'll be able to use a skiff on my days off. Participants must demonstrate that if they fall from a boat into cold water they can get themselves back into the boat. After paying this price, whether I really want to or not you know that at least once I'll be skimming in a motorboat across the same frigid water I swam in today.

I plan to reward myself for today's effort, but the reward must wait. Come September, after four months without my beloved fountain diet cola and Mexican food, I'll be heading for Nacho Mama's in Naknek for a plate of steaming enchiladas and a diet Coke. No ice.

20060521 What Is a Nice Day?

Over the past week my definition of what constitutes a nice day has changed. Sun is no longer a requirement. I only want temperatures above 35 and no rain or sleet. The second half of today has been nice. If only I could take advantage wiithout guilt.

You might gather from the previous postings that life as a ranger-naturalist is all glitz and glamour, adventure and opportunity. I only wish. Visitors often proclaim that I have the best job in the world. "How do I become a park ranger like you?"

Three requirements for being a successful seasonal ranger naturalist: 1) You must love the place where you work. 2) You must love to share that place with people who come to visit. 3) You must be willing to take a vow of poverty. Most folks fall off the bandwagon after number 2.

The Brooks Camp naturalists, especially those like me here for a first season, are in crunch time. The area opens to the public on June 1. We begin programs a week later. The visitors expect that we know a little something about this place and are able to communicate that knowledge. The National Park Service demands that we facilitate the visitor's meaningful stay.

Thus, while today is an official day off, I have been studying. I need to know about brown bears, sockeye salmon, prehistoric cultures, volcanoes, glaciers, and more. I'll be presenting programs on bear safety, the 1912 eruption of Novarupta [the largest of the 20th century; Pinatubo 2nd], the use of this area by different cultures over time, the significance of local place names, and more.

It's the 'and more' that gets you. If I speak long and rapidly, visitors do not have time to ask questions that might reveal holes in my tapestry of knowledge. But darn it, I always run out of wind. For a ranger, a day with too many I-don't-knows is never a nice day.

20060520 Dumpling Mountain Hike

Immediately northwest of Brooks Camp [~65' elevation] sits Dumpling Mountain at 2440' elevation. Its summit yields a spectacular panorama of Lake Brooks, Brooks Camp, Naknek Lake [background of this photo with a breached moraine visible], and a couple of local peaks. Brooks Camp residents exercise by hiking up Mount Dumpling, named for some forgotten person's forgotten daughter. I figured you were tired of photos of me, so pictured here is a modern day Dumpling, welcoming us to the tundra. Treeline here is between 700'-1000' above sea level.

With boat training complete, I can now focus on what I came here to do, namely interpret Katmai National Park and Brooks Camp to park visitors. To that end myself and the rest of the interpretive staff are trained in a number of areas. Today was Wilderness Training, which seems appropriate since most of this park is officially designated wilderness under the terms of the Wilderness Act of 1964.

We began the day with a video, Wild By Law, which tells the story of the founding of the wilderness system in this country and the roles played by Bob Marshall, Aldo Leopold, and Howard Zahniser. Fascinating stuff, farsighted people.

Mid-morning we [staff numbers at least 12] began to hike the trail up Dumpling Mountain with Peter, my supervisor, interpreting at stops along the way. The trail passes through boggy lowlands, birch forest, willow and alder shrub thickets, and then reaches the tundra. Cool stuff with several different lichens, crowberry [looks like heather], and unknown other life forms.

We did not summit since we spent so much time exploring, but we saw wolf scat with fur and an arctic ground squirrel paw in it, and relatively fresh bear tracks in the snow.

OK, so you get a picture of me after all.

20060519 Fire Extinguisher Training

When you were a child did your mother ever tell you not to play with fire? One of my favorite aspects of being a park ranger is being able to do things my mother told me not to. Like play with fire. As part of motorboat training we had a chance to actually use a fire extinguisher on a fire, not just talk about it. Granted the fire was in a wheelbarrow, but the experience was exciting none the less. We were able to ignite flares as well. Oh what fun.

Today marked the end of motorboat training, with a knot-tying exam, a throw-bag throwing test, and a comprehensive written test in addition to the fire extinguisher exercise. I am happy to say that, while I was not a particularly stellar motor boat operator, I am now officially certified to operate a government boat. WooHoo.

My time in Alaska has included a number of firsts for me. Of course, this is the first time I have visited this wild and woolly place, where in Anchorage my long hair and beard and drab attire allow me to blend into the crowd. I flew in a float plane for the first time. I have seen many bird species for the first time. I have operated a power boat, squeezed the trigger on a fire extinguisher, and ignited a flare all for the first time. While my first brown bear sighting may not have been the first in my life as I visited Yellowstone as a child, it was the first that I remember. Speaking of childhood, this seems to be not my first but my second.

20060518 Motor Boat Training

Today was a day out on the water. The attached photo is me geared up for the occassion. I am wearing three sets of longjohns, goretex rainpants, two polypro shirts, a long-sleeved shirt, goretex/fleece vest, parka, float coat [the orange jacket, a pfd], ear-flap hat, gloves, boots and socks. I felt like the Michelin tire man but I needed it all. Rain spit most of the day, but we could see snow falling in the distance.

The day challenged many people and perhaps me as much as anyone. Prior to the day's training I had never operated a power boat in my life. The skill tests were:

We had to run the boat up to a buoy close enough for someone to reach out and touch it, but the boat could not touch the buoy.

We ran at full speed toward three buoys place in a triangle. As we passed between two buoys aimed directly at the third, the instructor pointed to the direction we must veer to miss that third buoy.

We had to run a slolom through a series of buoys placed in a straight line.

We had to slowly navigate within a pentagon of buoys about three boat lengths across, describing a pentagram with the boat by traveling forward, then back, then forward, then back, then forward once again. The boat could not touch a buoy nor travel further outside the pentagon than half a boat length.

We had to retrieve an unconscious person from the water [an instructor in a dry suit] and get them into the boat. This was a team exercise. The instructor is about 6'4" and 220#.

An intense day to say the least, jumping right into skill tests when I had no feeling for the tiller, the throttle, or really anything about any of the three boats used in the tests. Can you say FOCUS?

By the way, we put a thermometer in the water this morning to find out what we swam in on Tuesday--33 degrees fahrenheit!!!