I think
I’m going to have to start telling this story a little bit out of order. Or rather, it’s already time to stop thinking
of this as a day-by-day chronology, and start looking at big-picture topics. I know I've only been in Alaska for six days, but still.
First,
an overview of the two days before the drive to Coldfoot:
On May
11th, the morning after I arrived in Fairbanks, Joe and I were
driven to a cultural museum by one of our direct supervisors, Jenny. When we got there, we also met Bryant, our
other direct supervisor within the BLM.
Shortly after, the four of us went upstairs to a conference room where
we met several others who’d be working with us in Coldfoot, but more
importantly at that moment, there were bagels and cream cheese and coffee.
I’m not
sure who was there when we got there, and who arrived after, but altogether I
met Bob, an employee of the National Parks Service; Chad and Jacklyn,
volunteers with the National Parks;
Kristin, employed by the Fish and Wildlife Service; Ryan and Sarah,
volunteers with Fish and Wildlife; and Linda and Ray, and Walt and Kathy, two
pairs of volunteers serving as campground hosts at Yukon River Crossing and
Marion Creek, respectively.
We were
all there for a marathon training session; the topics included the purposes and
activities of each represented agency, the mission of the Arctic Interagency
Visitor Center, and the experiences of and issues faced by the various people
who have lived in or visited Northern Alaska, including modern day oil
companies and native peoples, as well as tourists and travelers.
I can’t
really make that training session sound interesting, or the one that followed
on May 12th. Not without
relating my own experiences to shore up the information that you can read
anywhere else. However, the topic of the
day on May 12th was driving the Dalton highway, which we did as a
group on May 13th.
So
before we drive the Dalton highway, let’s finish up in Fairbanks. At some point on the 11th, Joe and
I were issued a vehicle by BLM.
Essentially, we signed a form (I think we probably did, anyway) and Kelly
handed us the keys to a big, ruby red Chevy pickup. (I really wanted Ruby Red to be our call sign
on the CB radio, but apparently we don’t do that sort of thing in the federal
government.) With our new wheels, we
were able to get our own meals around town, go grocery shopping, and get from
the barracks to the training sessions on our own.
We had
a couple meals on base. Dinner was $8
and was only served from 18:00 until 18:45; we were served fettuccini alfredo
with shrimp, grilled zucchini and squash, and… memory fails me. Probably bread? Definitely a dessert. My plate was full and I got a salad as well. I was probably thinking that it would be one
of my last big meals, and I wanted to make sure I had some greens and fresh
tomatoes.
Our
breakfast on base was $6, and probably less healthy. Cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash
browns, and all of it greasy and delicious.
Oh, and some kind of pita pocket filled with all the stuff I mentioned
before, plus salsa. Most importantly,
there was coffee.
On the
11th, we took our truck to a grocery/everything store called Fred
Meyer. It’s like a Walmart, and
Fairbanks has two of them, and a Walmart.
We were there to stock up on food to last us through the first four weeks
of our summer. Kelly told us to ask for
the bush delivery department, which…
Hang
on, yeah, I should just mention that grocery stores in Fairbanks have bush
delivery departments. They do not
deliver bushes; they pack up deliveries of food that are being sent on small
planes to the bush. Just so we’re clear
on that.
Anyway,
I asked someone at the meat counter about the getting boxes for bush deliveries
for our own groceries for our long drive ahead, but he informed us that
department was closed for the day. However,
he had tons of cardboard boxes we could use that he was just going to collapse
and recycle. So he wheeled out a cart of
empty boxes, and we selected two each, the ones with the least visible chicken
blood soaked in, and filled up our carts with the cheapest pasta, rice, beans,
Ramen, hamburger meat, hot dogs, frozen vegetables, canned tuna, and many other
high-calorie, low cost foods we could find.
Joe splurged on pork chops. I
made sure I got a big jar of ground Folgers.
Joe’s
cashier asked him where he was going.
Mine didn’t, but I told her anyway.
She seemed amused by my excitement about it, but not really that
interested.
The
other interesting outing was to the Large Animal Research Station in Fairbanks,
or LARS. LARS is at least partly
maintained and operated by a woman named Emma, who is a friend of Jenny. Emma gave a group of us a tour of the
facility, which runs a little bit like a small ranch. But the animals here are kept alive, and also,
they are caribou, reindeer, and musk oxen.
I have pictures of this place on my phone, but my phone and computer
aren’t speaking to each other, so they are locked here with me for now.
To wrap
this all up, by the evening of May 12th, Joe and I had most of our
luggage in our truck, along with a couple boxes full of food, and some more in
a freezer at the BLM building in Fairbanks.
We’d been briefed on how to safely drive the Dalton Highway, we had a
satellite phone (“sat phone”) and bear spray, and knew how and when to use the
CB radio. I’m pretty sure our dinner was
burgers at Carl’s Jr., which Joe confirmed is exactly the same thing as Hardee’s.
Next
post: the Dalton Highway. There will be pictures.
Thanks
for reading!
-Rob
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