Beauty Is Skin Deep

Alaska is beautiful, containing millions of acres of absolute wilderness. Disparages cast by Into the Wild be damned; should one have the sense and the skillset, it is certainly possible to wander into the boreal forest, erect a cabin, and enjoy contended isolation eating moose until the end of your days. Squatter cabins scattered throughout the Tanana stand as testimony to this reality. Even in a civilized metropolis such as Tok, residents live almost completely free of rules and regulation. In fact, working hard not to freeze is really about the only thing required of citizens in Alaska.

Bluebird skies have reigned over Tok these past weeks, and days are quickly growing long. Temps have soared into the high 30s, and the cabin’s roof has sloughed its shroud of snow. One thing I’ve noted here is that temperature truly is relative. Standing outside on a sundrenched 25 degree day is downright pleasant. It doesn’t even require a coat, as long as one has become accustomed to habitually donning the Alaska state uniform of long underwear.

Officially its fire season, but that is a hard concept to take seriously when two feet of snow still covers the ground. Even so, it appears that spring arrives like a freight train around here. I am guessing that I will step out of the office at quitting time one day to find the aspens have put on their leaves since morning.

In an effort to simplify, I’ve taken to spending Sunday afternoon baking my own bread. The first attempt was disastrous; what I created was more akin to a brick than a loaf. This last attempt met with greater success; the dough actually rose, though not much. Next time we’ll try going with less flour and more kneading.

So far my greatest joy in Alaska has been the abundance of dog mushing. I have been to several races and had opportunity to act as handler for several dog teams. At the Tok Race of Champions, I deserted my newly acquired mentor, a local native named Tom Denny, to assist a team of Siberians from Anadyr Kennels. Once the premier sled dog, Siberian Huskies have become the bastard children of competitive dog sledding, dethroned by the faster hound crosses. Anadyr runs Siberians exclusively, and even though their team finished last at the Race of Champions they were the apple of this Siberian lover’s eye. I can foresee an Anadyr dog running with the By Dog team in the future.

The most wonderful thing about dog mushing in Alaska, beyond the sheer abundance of it, is the incredible support. The native village of Tanacross is little more than a handful of homes surrounding a community hall, but they laid out a spread at Friday’s musher dinner that put to shame every potluck I’ve attended in the Lower 48. Nearly the entire village population was on hand to give the collection of local and professional mushers, many of whom enjoy world class status, the warmest welcome possible, though I harbor a suspicion that most of them were only there for the after dinner bingo session.

Yes, it is beautiful in Alaska, but there is a lot more to the place lurking beneath it's grand façade. Nonetheless, it’s gorgeous outside at the moment and the dogs want to run, so let’s leave that part of the Great Land buried beneath winter's melting snow for now.