Pacific NW

Expeditions

34° RAIN, 33° RAIN & SNOW   2” SNOW

According to the weather log (which we continued after John’s departure), the January snowfall totaled a whopping eighty-nine inches, roughly seven and a half feet!  And it keeps coming!  The overcast, rainy day made for an icy mess.  The general store’s roof was the first to shed and create a massive snow pile.  The force of the snow drop had racked one of the boardwalk railings, but we were able to jostle it back in place. Word came over the VHF radio that the plane was planning to arrive after nearly two weeks delay.  Tired of wondering and talking about whether it would ever come or not, we had pushed it to the back of our minds. Even when we heard the plane overhead en route to Angoon, we failed to believe it would actually touch down here, but hoped it would.  The arrival of a bush plane is always an exciting event, even more thrilling when the plane bears gifts. All were awaiting fresh food and our friends in the bay were expecting Christmas presents.  Suddenly, the plane kissed the treetops over camp, flew right on by us and headed for the lodge. This last part was a bit anti-climatic.  Apparently the pilot didn’t see fit to arrive at our float plane dock even though we had taken such care to clear it for him every day for the last two weeks, in case he should come! We later found out that the airline had decided to land at the lodge dock for the rest of the winter.  Whether this was based on previously icy conditions in the bay (which they’d seen from overhead in past weeks) or the poor condition of our dock, we did not know.

Dave & Anke wrapped up a skiff-load of boxes in a tarp and motored over to our dock in the pouring rain. They helped us to move the boxes onto dollies and we hurriedly moved about camp to avoid soaking them. Pete & I wondered what condition our nearly three week old food would be in.  After delivering Christine’s boxes to her hydro shed, we headed up to the cabin to tear into our boxes.  For nearly $100 worth of goods, there was little to show.  We had paid inflated prices to begin with and the tardy delivery had cost us money in produce gone bad. Among the produce, there was limp, yellowing kale, a few rotting limes and lemons and partially salvageable parsley.  The spinach was a real winner, still looking quite crisp.   I acknowledged the lack of control that’s part of living in the bush if you wish to rely on outside supplies.  The variable weather makes flights completely unreliable.  Weather aside, however, we had a hunch that the flight company had put Baranof on the back burner.

The weather stayed nasty all day long. The rain is eating away at the snow, revealing green again! Only sporadic clumps of snow still cling to the trees. Although I’m lamenting the loss of the winter aesthetic, I certainly don’t miss the shoveling. John’s hot spring fed hose comes in handy to help the melting process along. As part of the continual battle against the snow, Pete sought set the hose up to melt out a wider gap between the cabin and the encroaching mounds stacked next to the picture windows. It had become a bit cave-like in the cabin.  We had a relaxing evening and a fire to properly dry out those hats and gloves that seem forever slightly damp. I’d been craving carrot cake and baked a pan in anticipation having Dave & Anke to dinner tomorrow night. Come evening, there was a definite change in weather. The wind stirred up. Driving rain turned to snow that blew like a hurricane. The roof sheds like crazy all night, bombing the boardwalk below.

34° RAIN, 32° CLEAR   1” SNOW

Indeed, the boardwalks were all a mess, covered with the kind of slop that finds it way into any cracks in your rubber boats.  We removed the snow that we could without endangering ourselves.  Then, Pete worked on fixing one of the snowblowers.  Come afternoon, we headed to the lodge for a routine visit that consisted of checking email, dinner and the double feature of The Daily Show & The Colbert Report.  I used their facilities and took the best Alaskan shower to date, steaming hot and highly pressurized! We remembered our snow blower gas this time around.  Two jerry cans should do us for awhile and, silently, we’re hoping we won’t need much of it at all (we don’t want to say anything aloud and jinx it). The stars were out for our magical row home and the moonlight illuminated white peaks all around.

32° SNOW, 35° RAIN   3” SNOW

It continued to snow this morning on top of last night’s three inches.  We had planned a dinghy trip to the lodge, but the rain began early in the afternoon and made the journey less enticing.  This was our first entire afternoon spent indoors and first break from the snowfall in twelve days or so.  It’s hard to believe that the snow may be tapering off.  Snow bombs continued to unleash all day, but we still wait for the roofs to shed. The combination of rain and increased temps made for sloppy, cement-like piles on the ground.  All of camp will be a slushy mess tomorrow and Pete will be cursing the snow blower.  It doesn’t perform well in this sloppy stuff.

32° SNOW, 34° SNOW & OVERCAST   4” SNOW

In the early morning, Pete went down to the dock to record the names of the boats, but they had left before first light.  Snow continued to fall while the temps rose over the course of the day to just above freezing.  The trees started to release snow bombs, making a foray into the forest somewhat threatening.  John’s roof was actively shedding again, each thump reminding me of the shoveling in store.  We spotted a marten slinking alongside the cabin, unknowingly framed in our picture window.  Pete tracked its prints to underneath the cabin.  Martens are largely solitary animals and this one had obviously decided to reside in our vicinity for the winter.  He often leaves us a reminder of his presence on top of the cooler or in front of the door.

For brunch, Pete made us perfectly done dutch babies, one of his specialties.  We were low on a few basic items so in the afternoon headed to retrieve drinking water and diesel for our cabin stove.  The snow turned gummy and slippery, making it a challenge to get up the hill with the dolly.  In the end I had to abandon the dolly and walk each of the jerry cans up one by one, working up a good sweat.  Back in the cabin, we watched the snow continue to lightly fall and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon.

31° SNOW, 31° SNOW   6” SNOW

It was hard to force myself out the door, even though it was only a soft, powdery snow.  I cleared the float plane dock, but was still awaiting the major roof shedding event before I would shovel the cabin decks.  With pickaxe and shovel, Pete and I tackled a few gigantic snow piles around camp with hardened under layers.  We dug trenches around John’s cabin to prevent the snow from stacking up against the picture windows.

There was continuous snow today–a white-out in the morning, light snow in the afternoon and wet snow by evening.  It took us by surprise when two fishing fishing boats showed up at the dock tonight.  We knew boats would be passing through in February en route to king crab fishing grounds farther north, but hadn’t expected them just yet.  It was hard not to feel like our bay was being invaded, the bright sodium lights and the loud hum of the generators destroying the peace.

31° SNOW, 32° SNOW   8” SNOW

More snow came overnight and we hit the snow removal in the morning.  Temps that hovered around freezing made the roofs even more precarious and we tiptoed around them.  This was the first day the bay looked clear of the ice sheet all the way out to Chatham.  Gray skies overhead, it seemed a good day to spend indoors at the lodge doing the usual—laundry, internet and dinner.  We encountered much less resistance on the row over this time around.

For safety and the sake of interest, we usually closely skirt the shoreline.  We noticed a spooky sound where we passed alongside towering cliffs, the sound of the roaring waterfall echoing against the rock face.  Dave & Anke pulled out a chicken for dinner and I brought fixings for a root mash, salad (the last one!) and freshly baked brownies.  After dinner, Dave, Anke and Pete played the banjo, mandolin and guitar by the fire!  Once off the dock, we realized that we’d left behind our replenished jerry cans.  Just another reason for a visit in the near future!  We enjoyed a quiet midnight row back to camp.

34° SNOW, 31° SNOW   6” SNOW

We wonder if the snow will ever stop.  It’s hard to achieve any sense of satisfaction when evidence of your former day’s work is constantly being erased.  The shovel has become my extra appendage.  I felt low on energy and motivation today and shoveled sluggishly.  The radio station in Sitka warned the area of a thundersnow.”  We weren’t exactly sure what that meant, but it sounded cool.  In Baranof, the snow came in the form of dippin’ dots,” styrofoam like pellets which fell into great relief on top of a light powder.  A thick layer of slush lay underneath it all.  We’ve started to develop our own snow terminology like the Eskimos.  Baranof lies in a unique snow-filled pocket and our weather reality often fails to reflect the outside forecasts.  John had told us that, as a general rule, we can quadruple the projected snowfall for Eastern Baranof & Southern Admiralty Islands (our closest point of VHF weather reference).  Well, this was certainly proving to be true.  After lunch we set off on our snowshoes and packed a trail through the woods up to the lake.  Due to the heightened snow levels, we were able to scout a new route.  The change of scenery was welcome and we were able to appreciate being here for such an awesome, quintessential winter.

32° SLEET & SNOW, 31° SNOW   7” SNOW

Despite the fallen and falling snow, a morning of recovery” was in order and we allowed ourselves a late start.  A change of activity was needed.  I prepared a breakfast of sausage and oatmeal pancakes and Pete straightened out the house, which has been hard to keep tidy while in crisis mode.  We’ve been necessarily obsessive about snow removal and given to sheer exhaustion by the day’s end.  Back at snow removal this afternoon, the first order of business was dusting off the boat cover and clearing the float plane dock.

It began to sleet and we kept an eye out for any shedding decks.  In some places, the snow is stacked many feet above our heads.  We devoted the afternoon to widening a long tunnel created from a combination of snowfall build-up and snow blowing.  While I trimmed down the sides of the snow hedges with my shovel, Pete came along with the snow blower to clean up the mess.  As we took a hot tub tonight, we watched the snow continue to fall and were better able to appreciate the beauty of it from this vantage point.

32° HEAVY SNOW, 32° SNOW   9” SNOW

We’re in full damage control mode,” Pete shouted at me with his ear protectors on as we crossed paths, he wielding the snow blower and I the shovel.  The statement rang with excitement and urgency.  From sun up to sun down, we dug ourselves out of the mounding snow.  Overnight we received 8” and it was still snowing in the morning.  As the piles grow, the job becomes more strenuous.  Wrists, neck and back are feeling the strain.  The snow now towers over us and along the boardwalk above John’s cabin it has nearly created tunnels, narrow corridors that we struggle to keep open.  The cabin roofs have yet to unleash their tremendous loads.  Most of the cabins weren’t designed with winter in mind and shed directly onto a deck instead of onto the ground.  This is bad for the deck, as it takes the brunt of the force, and also creates more work for us!  We won’t risk putting ourselves on the decks under these massive, looming loads until the roofs have let go.  Unfortunately, the boat cover couldn’t handle the weight of the overnight snow load and it now bears a huge rip near the bow.  Despite the rip, however, the cover is still doing its job of keeping the decks largely snow-free.  We were relieved that the snow had tapered off by the afternoon.  Most of the bay is free of ice now, save for a patch over by the salt lagoon.  This is a reminder that we’ve transitioned from an extreme ice kingdom to a full-blown snow kingdom.  The winter of 2012 does not disappoint!

33° SNOW, 32° SNOW   10” SNOW

The loud thud of snow landing heavy on the boardwalk below jolted me awake throughout the night.  I slept on edge.  Snow sloughing off the metal roof means that temps are on the rise!  There was a fresh 6” on the ground this morning and a snowy sky.  We found ourselves getting buried, the snow closing in on the cabin!  A mini-avalanche had nearly taken out the thermometer, and we had to dig it out of the snow to record numbers for our weather log.

It was a wet day, one that required woolens underneath heavy-duty rubber rain gear.  Despite the weather, we had no choice but to find our way over to the lodge to fetch our re-supply of gasoline.  Dave had the siphoning system up and working again and had kindly filled our jerry cans.  We decided that an overland expedition to the lodge was unwise with all the fresh snow that would require us to pack a new trail, and the real possibility of an avalanche overhead.  The VHF announced an avalanche advisory” for Sitka and the surrounding area today.  Trinka, our dinghy, was called to expedition duty and had one of her most exciting adventures to date.  We channeled the spirit of Ernest Shackleton as we broke through an ice sheet in order to reach the lodge.  We’re sure that few people have ever rowed around the bay in these conditions and we felt like quite the explorers!  Chatham Strait was eerily dark with snow and we plied through thick snowfall in the bay.  We stayed close to the shoreline in order to more easily forge our way through the looser bits that had been broken off with the motion of the tide.  Today claims the highest and lowest tide of the year!  Pete rowed slow and steady, looking for openings where the ice would more easily give.  He felt like he was slugging through slush pudding.  We fell just short of the dock, and triumphantly arrived at the rocks at low tide and tied the dinghy off, knowing that we’d have to keep an eye on the rising tide.  Dave & Anke, not expecting us in the midst of this weather event, greeted us at the front door.  Anke had spotted us as she filled the bird feeder on the front deck.  We enjoyed a warming cup of coffee and a quick email check.  With no time to waste as the snow continued to pile, we were off with our gas, laundry, sprouting seeds and turkey broth courtesy of Anke.  The snow cleared on our way back and we arrived back at camp ready to shovel.  In the afternoon it snowed 1” in an hour, a bit disheartening.  I liked the aftermath, though, a clear, pastel colored sky.  The boat cover is taking on heavy loads these days and it is a real chore to remove all the snow!  On the upshot, this is the first day Privateer is free of ice on the waterline.

A long hot tub was in order to soothe the muscles.  I do enjoy all the physical activity, as long as I can avoid injury.  At the onset of the shoveling, I frequently woke up in the morning in a panic, my hands asleep.  This lasted for a good five days.  Now that muscles have emerged in places where there were none, the condition has abated.

We were downright exhausted and headed early to bed.  Pleased with our work, we congratulated ourselves on keeping camp damage-free and looking sharp.  More snow is in the forecast for the whole week, so we’ll need to replenish our energy reserves before morning.  This is shaping up to be an epic snowfall and we’ve got our work cut out for us.