You Snooze....You Lose

Last night I was exhausted.

I don't think I've ever thanked God for a Friday with more heartfelt gratitude. Juggling girl's conditioning sessions, GED instruction, and managing the student store alongside regular teacherly responsibilities has my brain and body reeling. When my head finally hit the pillow I was, as they say, dead to the world.

Most nights, that would be just fine, but just a few minutes ago I trekked over to the post office and discovered that my much-needed snooze session came with a price. Apparently, there was a polar bear in town and it was actually right outside my window!

Being dead to the world, I had no clue.

This is my ninth school year in this village. In that time, this is maybe the fourth polar bear that has ventured down from the coast. However, it is the first time that one has wandered among the houses. I heard from neighbors that the outside dogs didn't even bark (smart dogs...they know when to keep a low profile). No one knew the bear was there until one poor teenage girl, walking all alone, rounded a building and found herself face-to-face with what could have been her worst nightmare....only yards away.

Don't worry. The quick-thinking girl jumped into a nearby house immediately. She's fine, though understandably shaken. I heard that the bear was walking toward her as she scrambled into the building. I shudder to think what would have happened if one of our little ones had been in the same position. Would they have had the presence of mind to get away or would they have just stood there gaping or crying, frozen in terror?

Hopefully, we'll never have to learn the answer to that question, but there are murmurings that this bear was not alone (two more sets of tracks have been found), so it's a concern.

Polar bears are not easy for me to write about. On one hand, they are magnificent animals that fill me with curiosity and admiration. I would have been thrilled to see a polar bear sniffing around my window! I think most people feel the same way. I was completely mesmerized by the video about Klondike and Snow (the polar bear cubs that were raised at the Denver Zoo years ago) and I am envious of those who live in the coastal villages where bear watching is commonplace.

Unfortunately, when you live in the Arctic, there is always the other hand to think about. In spite of all the movies and commercials and photographs-in-emails that depict bears as cute, cuddly, fun-loving creatures...or even aloof, independent ones...the bottom line is that they are wild animals with no sense of right or wrong or sentimentality beyond survival. A hungry, wandering bear might prefer to eat fish or a seal, but if there doesn't happen to be any fish or seals around at the moment...a defenseless dog or even a person would certainly be fair game.

That leaves me with very mixed feelings...especially now that one has crossed the line.

The Dark Side of Sunlight

There is nothing more effervescent than springtime sunshine across the tundra!

With daylight hours stretching well beyond ten o'clock in recent days, children of all ages find making hay much more appealing than hitting it.






In other words, there's no time like springtime for staying out late and soaking up rays...even if it drives your parents and teachers crazy!



Yet, however strange it might sound, all that sunshine does have a dark side.

While it splashes itself across the seamless white tundra and packs a visual wallop that demands protective eyewear, sunlight (this time of year) doesn't actually carry that much warmth.

It slyly disguises still-frigid temperatures with its flashy smile and those who are fooled by its brightness often pay a hefty price.



It's still cold.

And no one knows that better than this fifteen-year-old girl who made the mistake of riding a skidoo wearing only warm-up pants instead of insulated snow pants.

Her frostbite wound was painful at first, but is healing well.

Lesson learned...I hope.

A Surviving Story

I write this with trembling hands, unsure of where to begin or what to say. This is what I know.

Saturday morning our school secretary (also the mother of several of our students) packed up her sled and four-wheeler and left for a day of caribou hunting. Fall and spring are prime hunting seasons in this area and Wanda is a caribou hunter.

Wanda was taught to hunt by her father. She is an excellent shot and seldom comes home empty-handed. As a single mother, she has continued to hunt, fish, and gather subsistence foods, teaching her own children similar skills. This is what the Inupiat do. This is their way. Six days ago, Wanda began an ordinary journey that ended today with an extraordinary outcome.

She survived.

Late Saturday night, into the earliest morning hours of Sunday, one of Wanda's daughters realized that her mom should be home...and wasn't. Notifying our local search and rescue unit set an enormous effort in motion. And across the village telephone lines burned an incredible and frightening fact.

Wanda was missing.

I won't try to relay the distress that a thing like this produces. The search and rescue team, mostly unpaid volunteers, spent five nights and five days tirelessly scouring the tundra over-land while a chopper and rescue plane searched from above. A grid was mapped out, evidence was analyzed, prayers were prayed, and tears were shed.

Everyone knew all too well how the story could end. Five nights alone on the tundra, braving temperatures in the low twenties with 20-40 mile-per-hour winds seemed like too much to bear. But no one was willing to underestimate the power of a miracle or the strength of a determined Inupiat woman armed with survival skills and fueled by a will to live...for herself as well as for her children.

Yet, after so many days without a trace, brave faces were beginning to weaken. Eyes glazed over as fatigue and fear of the worst crowded in. Rumors proliferated causing spirits to soar then quickly crash against the harsh reality of truth. People of the North are not strangers to this. They have lived for centuries with the vicious bite of the elements at their heels. Death is a part of life, but not knowing is an added burden that no one can be prepared for.

Where is the line between delusion and hope? And who has the right to draw it?

Thankfully, Wanda's family and this community won't have to answer that question after all. This afternoon Wanda was found, not only alive, but in good shape. She was exhausted, sore, wind-burned, possibly a little dehydrated, but conscious and talking and walking on her own two feet.

Her survival skills had served her well and left her with a story to tell. This is what the Inupiat do. This is their way...but I'm not sure anyone expected such a powerful and beautiful end to this particular tale.

This is a surviving story. One that was lost has made her way home.

And for that...we are all incredibly grateful.

Cold-Hard-Fact #4

Contrary to popular belief, zero isn't necessarily nothing.

It may be a big, fat nothing when speaking of money or calories, but in reference to temperature, zero isn't nothing.  It's definitely something.   

Around here, we call it warm.

On a day like today, when the mercury hovers in the zero range, kids will actually say, "Oh, man, it's warm out!"  And they'll head off to school or toward a favorite sliding hill wearing short pants and a light jacket or no jacket at all.

According to the airport weather station, our temperature spiked considerably overnight from negative 25 up to zero and it has remained there throughout the day.  All that warm, moist air paired with a relatively stiff wind created just the right conditions for a full day of misty sideways snow.

(which explains why the duck photo, above, looks so blurred)

Wind from ENE (060 degrees) at 21 MPH (18 KT)
Visibility  3/4 mile(s)
Sky conditions  overcast
Weather  Light snow mist
Temperature  0 F (-18 C)
Windchill  -22 F (-30 C)
Dew Point  -4 F (-20 C)
Relative Humidity  84%

During most of our winter and spring, the snow is amazingly dry.  It may come down wet, but cold, arid air pulls the moisture away fairly quickly, leaving a fine powder that is great for sliding and cross-country skiing, but not so great for building snowmen or snowball fights.

Zero snow is very different.  

As I walked to the post office a few minutes ago, I grabbed a handful of snow to see if it would pack.  Piling up in the "toasty" zero-degree air, the snow was still wet enough that it began to melt in my hand and I was able to form a small, walnut-sized chunk of ice.  

Not exactly an impressive snowball, but it's better than nothing....which is what I would have held in my hand if I had tried the same thing yesterday.

Cold-Hard-Fact # 3

Anything that can freeze, will freeze...regardless of sunlight.

Could that be Murphy's Law of the Arctic?  

If it's not, I think it should be.

The sun has returned with amazing swiftness and magnitude.  In spite of quite a few blizzardy days, we have seen more blue sky in the last week or so than we've seen since fall.  There is every reason to believe that tomorrow's Vernal Equinox will arrive as a white, eye-squinting splash across the snow-covered tundra, though warmth probably won't be a part of the equation.

In spite of increasing sunlight, temperatures have remained in the negative twenties to forties for, well, weeks and weeks.  And that has presented some problems in the housing department.  It comes as no great surprise to anyone, I'm sure, that plumbing and prolonged cold just don't mix well.

Back in January, one notorious section of pipe running under the four-plex (where I currently live) developed an ice plug.   If you're thinking that this is starting to sound just plain gross, you're absolutely right.   (Lindsay's blog documents January's experience as it occurred).

Last night, unfortunately, the system froze up again.  Ugh!

This is the second winter that this particular section of pipe has frozen and last night, for the second time this winter, we were faced with it again.  Needless to say, this pipe is developing a rather nasty reputation.  After all, having your own sewer back up into your house is bad enough, but having other people's sewer overflow your toilet and gurgle up into your bathtub?

  

That kicks the disgust factor up a notch!  Don't you think?

Now, these pipes are not regular, run-of-the-mill sewer pipes.  They are a part of a specialized system that works on a vacuum controlled by a station centrally located in the village.  The pipes are completely encased in about six inches of heavy foam insulation and have electrical heat traces running through them to prevent ice from forming.  They're designed for the challenging conditions of this region and most of the time they work very well (insert Tim-the-Toolman's grunt of approval here).

(These are the components of the vacuum system that can be seen from outside our building.  The monitor indicates whether or not the heat trace is working properly, etc.)

It's something of a mystery that this particular section of pipe continues to freeze and it's a mystery that will not be solved until summer when the snow is gone, allowing maintenance workers to gain access beneath the building.   

Until then, we try to prevent ice from building up by using hot water and not sparingly so.  Hot water is used for washing all clothes and we are encouraged to wash often to keep a flow of warmth in the system.  I even use hot water when brushing my teeth which probably doesn't make much difference, but I'm not taking any chances!  

Thankfully, we have a great maintenance crew that knows how to handle this recurring problem.  Yes, the coffee creamer can is standard equipment 

(I asked).

They work in collaboration with maintenance guys from the city and use a nifty little machine that snakes down the pipes and shoots hot water into the plugged area, clearing the ice.  








Let me tell you, after breathing the aroma of sewer for a day or two... 

...maintenance guys are my heroes!

Cold-Hard-Fact #2

There is a reason they call it frost bite.

Okay, so as I write this our weather is -43 F with a slight easterly breeze of 5 mph. That gives us a windchill of 63 degrees below zero. School was canceled (for students) on Monday because of similar temperatures and today seems to be shaping up the same way.

I always have mixed feelings about canceling school because of low temperatures. We do live in the Arctic, after all. Can we really afford to give up on educating children every time it's really cold? I am one of those teachers who hates to see kids lose momentum and missing a day here or there can definitely lead to a stall. Moments in school are precious and my fingers often have to be pried away from time on task.

On the other hand, I absolutely understand the need for caution. The potential for frost bite, especially with children who aren't particularly mindful of such things, is a real danger. On several occasions I have developed blisters on my fingertips (like the one in the photo) even while wearing gloves! Thankfully, the blisters have healed quickly leaving little more than peeling skin to attest to my pain. Not a big deal compared to some of the injuries I've seen lately.

Forty below seems to be the magic number (click the link for Clare's excellent description).  It's the only common point on the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales.  Barring the escalating effects of wind, forty below is forty below whether you live in Alaska, Canada, Siberia, or even Antarctica.  It's like the Bermuda Triangle of the thermometer.   Once that threshold is reached or crossed, strange things begin to happen to both man and machine.  

A few years ago, the insurance company that covers our school district vehicles declared that it would not continue coverage if the vehicles were used while temperatures were -40 or colder.  So, on the coldest days of the year, vehicles are placed in heated garages, planes don't fly, and if someone feels the need to get out, it's their skin...quite literally.

Meanwhile, dedicated faculty and staff haunt the corridors of an empty school, secretly thankful for the windfall of extra time for getting work done.  And my sister, who lives down around Fairbanks, is out getting video of her own kids experimenting with bubbles at 40 below.  I thought some of you might enjoy seeing one of the weird and wonderful effects of extreme cold.

Cold-Hard-Fact #1

What goes up must come down and sometimes it's a bumpy landing.

I took this photo from my porch about a week ago. Not terrific photography, I know. The light was spare and it was in the -30's at the time, so I didn't spend a lot of time trying to get a better shot.

It always amazes me when I see airplanes this enormous on our tiny, unpaved air strip. I had heard, a few days before, that a plane was blown off the runway while landing, but I hadn't realized when I took this photo that this was the plane.

When I got to work the next day, I asked about it and was told that the airplane I'd photographed was a cargo plane that was hit by a 40 mph crosswind just before touchdown. Remember that really windy day I mentioned a while back? That was the day.

As the pilot attempted to land, the right wing dipped suddenly causing the wheels to edge off the air strip onto softer, unpacked snow several feet below. And that drove the prop on the far-right engine into the ground. Ouch!

My photos were taken several days after the accident, days after tireless crews worked with machinery on-hand to haul the aircraft back onto the air strip for assessment and repair. As I understand it, they used bulldozers to pull the plane and a front-end loader to move/remove the damaged engine.

A big thank you to Mel, our plant manager, for donating the following photos from the airport.

Several vehicles were being used as light sources while the work was going on. I am astounded that they were able to do all of this under such challenging conditions.

Notice the engine sitting on the ground!

Being off the road system, this village depends on air transport for just about everything. This particular aircraft was carrying building materials and possibly furniture. It could just as easily have been carrying fuel, a completely different scenario. Thankfully, no one was injured in the accident. In fact, I don't think the cargo was seriously damaged either.

It seems we were blessed with an uneventful ending to what could have been a tragic tale.

My hope is that we never take that for granted.