Peak Season

Warning: This post contains a few graphic images.  Small children and vegetarians should proceed with extreme caution.

Season's Greetings Everyone -- Hunting Season That Is!  To be honest, I'm not certain which season has seen the most flurry of activity for us -- fireweed harvest and jelly season, salmon run season, or moose season.  They run back to back to back, and that's how we feel we are running...back to back to back until we are chasing ourselves in circles.  However, the thrill of it all seems to surpass any angst or tiredness we are having. At least on most days.

Moose Camp, Day 1
Sept 2015

Michael headed out two Saturdays ago with King Tom (Lord of the Castle) for moose hunting.  They planned this trip last year when we were staying at the castle, and Michael has been looking forward to it since then!  Tom and Brenda have been here for 20+ years, and Tom knows several great hunting spots.  We just so appreciate his willingness to share them!  They traveled about two hours outside of Palmer toward Glenallen, and set up camp close to Eureka Lodge...along with several cadres of hunters and recreational enthusiasts.  While it was beautiful, Michael said all the traffic scared away any animal for thousands of miles!

They at least saw moose while they were there: 3 cows and a bull the first day (none of which were legal to shoot); a legal bull the second day, but it was too close to darkness for them to be able to track if they did get it.  They tried finding him all day Monday and part of Tuesday before reporting back that they had seen no further evidence of any moose in that area. In addition to that, Michael's 4-wheeler began to overheat (and so did he) from the extreme muddy terrain and mountain climbing they were doing. Exhausted, cold, hungry, and skunked, they decided to pack it in from that spot and try again later this week on one of the rivers.

View from the seat of a 4-wheeler

While Michael's adventures consisted of viewing unbelievable scenery from the seat of a 4-wheeler, our adventures continued here at home.  Perhaps some of you experience the same phenomenon we do...whenever Michael leaves, a fella named Murphy tries to show up, ruining things with his laws.  We decided a long time ago that we do not put stock in Murphy (or his laws) -- choosing to believe instead that "the steps of the righteous are ordered by the Lord" (Psalm 37:23).  We believe that even some of the unpleasant steps are purposeful...and boy have we had to remind each other of that these past few weeks!

As I've shared with you in earlier blogs, we are now in our rainy season.  The day Michael left was no exception.  This rainy, cooler weather has brought about runny noses and sore throats.  I was over it fairly quickly, but it lingered with Ethan for more than a week.  Ahtna noticed, and to her credit, her puppy crazies have abated when he felt his worst.  Puppy love is good for what ails you, and snuggling with her has become one of Ethan's favorite pastimes.  Since he was feeling a bit better the day Michael left, we decided to take a short drive that evening into Wasilla.  We leashed Ahtna, and the three of us jumped into the car to check out a property that some out-of-state friends have recently rented.  They are moving here and asked us to make sure the property was in a good location.  We were familiar enough with the area to know that it was a nice enough neighborhood, but we knew they might have lots of neighbors, so we were going to drive by and have a look for them.  The home is situated in a neighborhood that has several access areas and it is easy to get lost on any one of the unsigned dirt roads -- Arctic Fox, Polar Bear, Grizzly Bear, Grey Wolf, Wolverine -- it's like a terrible corn maze.  And, we promptly got lost. And the gas gauge lit up to tell us we were low on gas; to which Ethan responded, "Mom, we should get gas."  I explained that we weren't really near a gas station, but that as soon as we found their property, we would head home and get gas on the way home.  You know that scene in every horror film where you talk to the characters and tell them how very foolish and dumb they are being...well...insert those comments here, directed at me. Ethan is the protagonist in this story...

Ethan Martin, Protagonist Extraordinaire

The last "official" number I saw said we had 53 miles that we could travel before running out of gas.  We continued driving through the corn maze until an offensive bell began gonging and the gas gauge lit up like a firecracker! "Bong, bong, bong....bong, bong, bong."  I don't think Big Ben in London can ring any louder than the inside of our car! I gave Ethan a wink, pulled out onto the main road and said, "O.K. Change of plans.  We'll head to the Tesoro on Wasilla Fishhook (which is one of the main access roads heading toward Hatcher Pass). We can get gas there...it's closest."  Five miles into that destination, Ethan looked up and said, "Mom.  This is the wrong way."  His voice was only slightly raised, and I reassured him that I knew where we were.  As we passed an elementary school, he immediately turned and said with an even higher pitched voice, "MOM! I know in my gut we are going the WRONG WAY!  We are getting close to Hatcher Pass!"

As most of you know, Hatcher Pass is one of his most favorite places on Earth.  His certainty (but really the tone of his voice) immediately hit MY gut, and I pulled off the road immediately.  By now, the gonging was driving us insane, so I shut the car off, and we prayed it would start again.  I pulled out my trusty cell phone and Google maps to give us some perspective.  "No service." Of course there was no service!  More scary movie insertions by the armchair quarterbacks here...  I looked at Ethan, and he said, "Mom.  I know we are going the wrong way.  We need to turn around to get to that gas station."  By now, we had driven quite a ways since the gas gauge warning light was illuminated.  I had no idea how much further the gas station was.  It was nearing dark, and if we did run out of gas, I knew we had at least a 5-mile or more walk -- in Alaska -- without protection -- Michael had all the big guns with him, and my gun was at home.

Needless to say, I turned around, and prayed we made it to the gas station.  I was a little panicked.  Ethan, however, was as calm as a cucumber, saying things like, "What's the worst that can happen? We'll just call Alex or AAA or we'll walk to the gas station.  Ahtna will help us get there.  Don't you recognize where we are now, Mom? We're almost there."  And suddenly, there it was...gleaming like a lighthouse amid the storm...the Tesoro gas station...the one you all would clearly recognize from nearly every episode of Alaska State Troopers!  I didn't care if it was currently being robbed...we were saved!  As I pulled into the parking lot and situated the car at the pump, the car sputtered it's last gas fume.  Having re-fueled the car (and us with caffeine -- per Ethan's request), we left again, found the rental property, updated the family, and headed for home.  We just kept thanking the Lord for getting us there (on faith and fumes), and it felt so good to finally get home and lay down to rest.  We were (well, I was) emotionally exhausted!

Rest would be fleeting, however; the caffeine and sinus drainage did not mix so well, and poor Ethan spent the remainder of the night/early morning throwing up.  Gross, I know...but life.  Then, of course, there was no sleeping because the dog was awake and whining to know what was happening. When they both finally went back to sleep, I got ready to head to church to teach our Sunday School class, and left Alex with the sick and tired.  I was thankful for Sunday afternoon, when I could rest just a tad.  Alex headed to church and work, and left us all resting well.  Since Ethan was still a bit puny, I helped with his normal Ahtna duties.

As I headed down the stairs to get Ahtna's leash, she did something she has never done.  She saw that Murphy fella peddling his laws at the front door and tried to beat me to the landing.  In doing so, she clipped my legs right out from under me, and I tumbled like a rag doll.  I landed partially on her -- so she'll not do that again!  But I landed mostly on my right arm and back.  Poor Ethan -- to the rescue again he came (I told you he was the protagonist in this story!) -- taking the dog out and helping me back up the stairs.  After a couple of hours of continued swelling, arm pain, and finger numbness, we decided a trip to the doc's was probably in order to rule out a break.  Oh wait...it's 7:30 p.m. on a Sunday night...the doc isn't in...that means an ER trip. Blechhh!  Three hours and a lifetime of ER stories later, we came home.  I was slingged up but not broken! Yay for not being broken!

Given the nature of my injuries (i.e. they look like defensive forearm wounds), how and with whom I presented to the ER, and the story of how I got my injuries, it was actually a blessing that Michael WAS moose hunting -- he had an alibi.  I think they would have sent a police officer and a social worker to the house had he been there.  Poor fella, they thought badly of him, and I had to keep telling them, "Seriously...I really did fall down the stairs, and I'm seriously not afraid to go back home.  I want to go back home.  There's no place like home!"  Given both of our previous work experience on domestic violence task forces and on developing ER protocols, I NEVER thought one would actually be used on me!  Yikes!

Fall Foliage, Sept 2015

After all that, Ethan and I decided Monday that we weren't going anywhere!  We spent the day working on our studies, trying to move a bit to get over stair stiffness, and just generally recuperating. Tuesday evening, Michael and Tom called it "a hunt," and decided to come on home. As they were packing it in from not seeing any wildlife, Ethan noticed the first snowshoe hare of the season munching happily on clover in our side yard.  Armed with his .22 and earplugs, he stepped onto the back deck to "bag our dinner."  After a couple of nervous "re-positions," he took and aim and fired.  I've never seen an animal jump that high, and then it scurried off into the underbrush.  Ethan did everything he was taught in his Hunter Safety Course: he secured his firearm and tracked the rabbit. Sadly he tracked it right into a huge tree stump that split off into multi-directional burrows -- each longer than his arm.  He had to leave it, knowing it had been wounded.  It was an interesting time of discussion later that night, as he prayed for that rabbit not to feel pain or to suffer.  He has the full realization that if we are going to eat animals, they must lose their lives; however, we are grateful that he is a compassionate hunter and doesn't want to prolong their suffering.

Bunny Foo Foo comes
to dinner...

Rabbit stew preparation

So imagine our surprise when Little Bunny Foo Foo came hopping through the clover the next morning for breakfast -- sporting two perfectly spaced pierced ears!  Literally, all she needed was two dangley-hoop earrings from my jewelry box, and she would have been sporting 80's vogue fashion! Michael was able to fully dispatch it with the pellet gun, and we had rabbit stew over rice for dinner Wednesday evening.  And...Ethan and his Daddy finally had a hunting story that no one would believe, but that was completely true! They had bagged the same rabbit on two separate days and provided food for their family.  As they cleaned our small game, Ethan had an epiphany that I think few realize unless they grew up or currently live on a farm -- whenever meat is on the table, an animal has had to die.  It is truth, but it is not something that we often vocalize.  And we wondered why that is.  Not that we had some grand revelation about it, just a thought really.  A thought that continued for the next few days...

Michael and Tom decided to have another go Thursday morning on the river.  We awoke at 3:45 a.m. and headed to the castle at 4:15.  We took Ethan with us because Alex had class all day in Anchorage.  The plan was to leave the castle at 5 a.m. and be floating on the river by sun up.  The morning was cold and rainy...and I don't mean just a little sprinkle...I mean a full-on thunderstorm with raindrops the size of your hand!  Tom told us, "We may just go for a joy ride this morning."  We hit the road and by the time we were 30 minutes outside of Palmer in the little town of Sutton, they called off the river float.  Wet, tired, and frustrated, we returned home and promptly all went back to bed.  When we awoke (at 11:30 a.m.), the sun was out and it was a gorgeous fall day!  Since Michael had taken vacation time for the moose hunt, he said, "I really don't want to spend such a nice day inside."

Headed North for Moose Scouting

So...off we went heading north toward Trapper's Creek, Talkeetna, and Denali.  Many moose have been spotted in that direction, and Michael was hoping to glimpse one that would be legal and one that we could help with.  But it was not to be... after searching in vain for a couple of hours we made our way to Nancy Lake State Park just to "look around."  Ethan and I had heard about Nancy Lake as a great canoeing area, but because we don't routinely travel in that direction, we kept forgetting about it.  The summer season is all but complete here, and we found a plethora of canoes, but none available for use.  The lakes were absolutely gorgeous, and the forests are already covered with a carpet of yellow leaves.  We hiked into one of the public use cabin areas where they are rebuilding a cabin.  It felt as if we were truly the only people on the planet.

Nancy Lakes Recreation Area, Sep 2015

Ethan dubbed this area "His Cathedral"

Hiking to the Public Use Cabins
Peak Leaf Season, Sep 2015

Rebuild of Cabin #1 at Nancy Lakes

Grouse at Nancy Lake
Sep 2015

Newest AK Competition
"Stick Throw 2015"

Michael spotted a grouse on our way out of the park, and after missing it with a rock (firearms are not allowed in the park), he and Ethan took to throwing sticks into the branches of trees to try to knock it down.  Since moose hunting has been scarce, I think they are both trying to make do with the abundance of small game to provide for our family.  After 15 minutes of competitive Alaskan stick throwing, and me laughing hysterically at their efforts, they finally had dinner for us.  Grouse is a very lean, darker meat, with no fat at all.  I know the old adage is "it tastes like chicken"; well, grouse takes nothing like chicken.  It tastes like venison.

Dipped in a Season Flour and Smothered in Onions
"Tastes Like Venison"

And, so, our adventures continue, with one Alaskan resource at a time.  In the span of three days we feasted on hare, grouse, and salmon, and thanked the Lord for His provision.  Even though this hunting season has not turned out at all like we planned, we trust that the Lord knows what we have need of.  Most recently we are thankful that His plan has included spending time together as a family, learning new information and skills about small game animals, and "making memories" in the Last Frontier.  Many thanks for your continued prayers for Alex and Andrew.  They both continue to excel with the Lord's help, and we are so proud of them!

Stay tuned for future escapades!  Tom and Michael have been out yet again, and we went moose hunting yesterday!  But more about that in the next blog!  Much love to you all!

"...for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask."
Matthew 6:8b