Christmas Gold

It's the Florida Keys, don't ya see?. It's supposed to be sunny and warm. We're supposed to be swimming and fishing and playing in the salt water and hanging out on the beach to get a tan.... Thank heaven for the back up plan, because it has been cold(ish) and windy and rainy and cloudy and relatively nasty for this time of year. Bah Humbug. Fortunately, we understand that when Florida gives you cold, you order something from Alaska for Christmas. What??? This is the general principle involved in the concept of when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, adapted for Christmas in the Keys.

So keeping this in mind, and because I wanted to give it a try anyhow, I called Joe and Mel at Alaska Discount Gold and made arrangements for them to ship me one of their new three pound bags of Willow Creek "paydirt." I told them I would use it as a Christmas present for Marilyn and that I would give the new product a little write up on the blog to let our readers know how we made out. That bag was here almost before I hung up the phone. Talk about good service. Alaska Discount Gold had that parcel in the system within a few hours- not always easy to do in Alaska. And why is it that the US Postal Service can get mail to Florida from Alaska faster than they can get a post card from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh?

This was a big hit as a Christmas present. Marilyn, who wears a button that reads "Gold Digger And Proud of It" on occasion, was thrilled with what came out of the red wrapped box with the bow on it. She always tries to figure out what I have selected for any gift situation. To keep the process honest, she writes her "guess" on a piece of paper and folds it up to make it unreadable by any means. Then I write down in similar fashion what I think she will guess. Both "entries" are then sealed in a security envelope which is opened immediately prior to the opening of the gift. Was she right? Did I give too many clues? Did she eliminate the pretenders by her clever Q&A leading up to the moment of truth? This time, in a word: NO! Her ESP had let her down. This time she thought she was getting a mini, coach sized food processor. I may have set that scenario up as a bluff; who knows? Anyway, it was neither that, nor was it the "Snuggie" I thought she would guess, so I'm declaring victory in this case of a "draw."


But back to the bag of concentrates from Willow Creek. Would the contents of the bag be as exciting as the beautifully packaged "bag of dirt" that popped out of the Christmas packaging? "Away to the window she flew like a flash, tore open the package and looked for the stash".... in English prose: we set up our portable panning trough and hauled out the gear and Marilyn began the adventure of seeing what was in each small and measured portion as she panned to her heart's content. Concentrates can go slowly, so a three pound bag can take a while and make the fun last. She found gold in every "pan," at a pace so as not to lose anything and send it spilling into the safety pan. More often that not, there was a picker that showed up...and a few nifty little nuggets popped their heads into the light of day as she continued.

When the bag was exhausted and the safety pan checked, there was a very respectable amount of nice, clean, shiny, high quality gold stashed in the one oz. vile. Alaska Discount Gold had made good on their satisfaction guarantee. And why wouldn't they? After all they advertise that if for any reason a customer is not happy with their purchase of the concentrates, they may return the entire lot for a full refund. That's a guarantee that's pretty hard to beat, and impossible to argue with. Simple truth for us with our Christmas purchase- Alaska Discount Gold lived up to everything they claimed. Those of you who know gold prospecting will be able to look at the pictures and know how good the results were. For those of you not so familiar with the amount of gold it takes to fill a vile, let's just say this was a pretty darn good deal! Should any of you decide to give their product a try, please tell them you saw them mentioned on Gundyville.

Now if we could just get back to feeling like we're in Florida instead of Alaska- that would be good. Not that we don't love Alaska, just that when you're in Florida it should not feel like you are climbing Denali.

Back In The US of A

There are some days when if you didn't have bad luck you wouldn't have any luck at all. I suppose a day or two like that every once in a while wouldn't be too bad, but it seems like the last half of our cross Canada trek was one day like that after another. I mean: my eyeglasses broke down the middle , my windshield is cracked, my door awning quit working and had to be pulled off the coach, floor tiles cracked when the coach twisted from an excess slope at a campground in a province that is otherwise flat, went to bed one night in a wooded camp site and woke up to find the coach sitting in 8 or so inches of water from overnight heavy rain...and then had the rear axle sink into the soft sand thereby leaning the back slide awning up against a nearby tree that should have been removed a long time ago and damaging it way too much trying to extricate the coach from the heavily wooded campground, which in turn made the slide impossible to open now. Did I mention that the pots and pans are in the closet which cannot now be accessed behind the closed slide? So shopping trips are limited to buying supplies that can be grilled (we can still get at the grill) or eaten raw. Mmmmm. Celery and lunch meat. The Magic Fan ceiling fan crapped out too. Bummer! There's more, but what the heck....

So it feels like "limping home" at the moment even though we are still rolling. At least at this point! All these concerns made the drive by Lake Superior seem less than superior to me. Lake Huron and Ontario much the same.

Our first look at Lake Superior:

There were literally thousands of small lakes in addition to the "Great" lakes too. Below is a look at the GPS passing through Ontario- more water than land or so it seemed.


Back in the USA, nothing had really changed as far as the conditions I just told you about- BUT, it felt a little better to be in the homeland. Help is much closer here, or so it seems, than it is in rural Canada. Right now- that's a good thing. We crossed the border at Niagara Falls, put the concerns behind us for the time being and headed off to see the falls. Parked on the US side, walked across the Rainbow Bridge ( you'll see from the slide show why it's called that) and strolled along the Niagara River to the Canadian or Horseshoe Falls as well. Then down the canyon wall to the river to ride the Maid of the Mist into the spray, the fury of the base of the falls. What a ride!




I'll close today with a slide show of the stroll by the falls....

Amber Waves of Grain

Saskatchewan and Manitoba are one big wheat field- at least from what we saw crossing Canada on Rt 1 and flying right along. Flat. That is except for the place we parked in a couple nights back, which was a downhill slope just steep enough that the coach couldn't level out properly and we did some damage to tile and trim when the slide outs wrenched putting them out...and then immediately right back in. Too late, but nothing to stop us or put us at risk, so on we go.


If you check out the Provinces Visited map you will see we have now added Manitoba and also Ontario where we landed tonight at Anicinabe Park on Lake of the Woods. In contrast to the recent provinces we have visited, Ontario is more like the Canada I know from the past. Big trees, lakes everywhere, rich greens and dark blues under a pastel blue sky- very beautiful. Below is the view out the front window of the rig at our first stop in Ontario. Had a nice walk down to the lake- boating, fishing, snorkeling, swimming all going on down at the lake...


The rest of our journey through Canada will be around the area of the Great Lakes and we are really looking forward to that.

Dino-topia

We had hoped to visit the Royal Tyrrell Dinosaur Museum on our last day in Alberta and Drumheller, but the museum had just moved to its winter schedule (closed Monday) and since it turned out to be a little further from our campground near the HooDoos than we realized, we decided we could not fit it in Tuesday morning before continuing on. Instead we walked around town, which is loaded with dinosaur replicas of all shapes and sizes. There are plenty of fossil shops, other museums of a lesser stature that the Tyrrell, and other attractions. They have a neat suspension bridge nearby so we took a walk across that and the Red Deer River. Neato. A couple stills and a slide show to mark the occasion.

I told Marilyn to get out of the way of the T-Rex, but would she listen???



Then on to Saskatchewan today. Another province added to our Canada map. Looks a lot like the prairie states so far- hot and seemingly very dry as well. Nothing in particular to write about yet....

HOO DOO: You Think I'm Fooling?

There are some days when, if it weren't for bad luck, you wouldn't have any luck at all. Yesterday was pretty much one of those days. An RVers nightmare, the electronic door awning left open over night refused steadfastly to retract in the morning as we prepared for departure on a day that called for a run of about 6 hours. Now running down the road with an awning out is not the best of ideas. In fact, it's about the worst. Passing trucks, crossing bridges, passing close to telephone poles just doesn't work with the awning out. It'd be like an eagle with a 6 foot wing span trying to fly full speed into a pigeon coop. Not good for the eagle or the pigeon coop. It was a Saturday. Four hours of trying everything to get that awning back rolled up failed to produce a solution. And even though we found two RV repair services within a possible emergency commute- one had another job he could not leave, and the other guy had, get this, a sick horse, and wouldn't come out. What are the odds? So with little else to do, we got out the installation manual for the awning and DE-INSTALLED it- cut the wires, removed the mounting screws and slid that baby right off the track. Tied it all up, threw it in the car and off we went. We had started to get ready to depart at 6:30 AM. By 12:30PM we were on the road. Stress went along for the ride! Got in late, so the pull through we had reserved was gone, the power was 30 when we had pretty much planned on 50 amp. I know there are gonna be days like this, but I've had my quota for the year now, so.....

Which brings us to the destination for today. Drumheller, Alberta. Home of the Hoo Doos. An early and different form of VooDoo - where the evil spirits were believed to have turned into rocks. They call this the Badlands of Canada and for obvious reason. But the hard hat, soft sandstone rock pillars are everywhere and in every size and stage of development. Was it the Hoo Doos that gave us trouble with the awning? Who do, I say Hoo Doo you think you're fooling?




And since it was close, we opted to drive just a bit further down the road and visit the famed Atlas Coal Mine. There was a very interesting outdoor museum walk of old coal mining equipment, something on the order of what I think is planned for the new museum in the works for Chicken Gold Camp. It was great. We had a trip planned to the dinosaur museum on Monday, but the brochure says it will be closed that day, so we'll just have to see if we can still fit that in...or if the Hoo Doos have their way with us one more time!

A Bad Day For Glass...

It seems like our gigantic windshield luck done run out! For three years now we have been roaming the hemisphere with only a few repairable dings and chips- all fixable with today's glass technology. We've repeated stories on Glass Magnum out of Whitehorse, Yukon Territory who has a technology unrivaled in this day and age for repairing chips and even large cracks in windshields. But on a clear and dry day, and on a clean and dry road, a small car threw a rock at us that first chipped the windshield, then, as we watched in absolute horror, send a crack across our left side windshield at the rate of about an inch every 10 minutes or so. It was kinda neat to watch at the same time it was an ohhhhh nooooo momen. What shall we do? Rural BC, Canada- not likely o find help here! But then Marilyn saw the sign.
"Stop" she yelled.
"What, is there an emergency?"
No, just a sign for windshield repair in a small town on the side of a building reading "Space For Rent."
What were the odds? Who cares, frankly?Good fortune is good fortune... and that is what we MAYBE had. The cell phone worked. What are the odds of that here? Poor. But it did.
"Are you in business? We are on Rt 16 by your sign....."
"Yes, I can see you..."
Within minutes Cory Jackson CiCi Auto Glass Repair, Vanderhoof, BC, CA was at our service. All we had to do was pull around the corner and we were there..... He did not have the advanced technology of Glass Magnum, but at this moment that did not matter in the slightest and he was hot on the job within a minute or two. The crack was stopped from progressing to the point where it could become dangerous. We breathed a sigh of relief. Whewwwwwww. Even his wife and baby came out to supervise the job on the grand windshield. Then with less that an hour of delay, we were once again on our way.

x

Now if this was the only thing to report about glass, I would not have selected this topic for today. But you see, shortly after we pulled out of there, we noticed another crack working its way across the other side of the windshield. Where this one came from we have not a clue! But there it was...and here it is. End game for the both windshields in the long run- but hopefully they hold up til we are back where replacement is a more than reasonable option.

And even a second crack in the windshield may not have prompted me to write about this, excepting my eye glasses decided to break right down the middle as well...and this for the second time, their having been laser welded in California a while back. Backup pair? Sure. Laser welded also. Uh- oh! Notice the trend here. Pretty much all down hill?

Nope. We are crossing the Canadian Rockies. Past Jasper, and the scenery is a-ok whether your windshield has some cracks, or your eye glasses are falling apart or not. Mt. Robson is the highest point in the Canadian Rockies at over 12,000 feet...and here we are cruising on by. Is it any wonder the glass can't cut it, so to speak?

There were lots of pictures that we could have stopped to take along the way. But this was a long day anyhow and we are bookin' it back to PA once again.

Gun & Run

Now that our visit to Hyder is accomplished, we are in gun and run mode as we travel, for the next four days or so. So sleep, eat, and drive - make up pretty much the entire day's itinerary, although today we pulled over by the Skeena River for lunch and took the time to pick another dehydrator full of rose hips for this winter's vitamin C tea drinks. It was rainy all day, heavy at times, but when we find such a nice crop by the roadside, we try to take advantage of the discovery. Luckily for us, the bushes are almost always untouched when we find them. Apparently there aren't a lot of people who pick and save them. Boiled for a short time and then steeped overnight, they make a delightfully earthy beverage which is excellent hot or cold. I love the "tea" they produce, but the whole process is nice as the drying and dehydrating produces a sweet and very pleasant aroma that wafts through the coach for the several days it takes to dry each batch. The hips, or berries, can be sun dried as well, so we move the dehydrator to the shower stall, and under the skylight, right next to our traveling herb garden while we travel for the day, and then plug them back in at the end of the day's travel. Each night the coach fills with the warm scent of the drying berries, and oh how sweet it is!

The hips come in all shapes and sizes, and even the color can vary from species to species of wild rose, but the basic color is red when they are ripe and ready for picking, although pink and orange are to be found at places as well. When we have our crop stored for the season, we will have collected hips from Chicken Alaska all the way back through New England. We actually still have a few giant hips from the Canadian Maritimes left over from last season. Think of it as an International blend or an All States blend. Delicious no matter what you call it....

Alaska Fix

We dropped down in British Columbia and then headed west back into Alaska, crossing at Stewart, headed into Hyder. We were looking for a final "fix" on all things Alaska- bears, glaciers, salmon. This time we are here at bit late- at the very end of the chum salmon run in Fish Creek, so the bears are few and far between. The area is a coastal rain forest, so you can pretty much guess what the weather has been like. A hoped for return visit to the magnificent Salmon Glacier will have to wait for another time. The visibility is not adequate to make the venture up the mountain. But damp weather does not necessarily dampen spirits. If you were to visit this place, and decide to stay in whenever it rained, you would pretty much be "in" all the time. So here's a couple stills from our visit and then a slide show to follow.

I salute everyone who has taken great photographs of bears. If there is anything harder to photograph I for one do not know what it would be. They are just plain difficult! Mine always seem to blur a bit, even when shooting at my fastest speed. Light always seems a bit wrong. Contrast poor. I'll keep trying; meanwhile here's what we have for now....

Bear Glacier


Salmon in the turquoise side water at Fish Creek spawning grounds

Old "Griz" looking for a salmon dinner
We look for a "yesterday caught" halibut lunch at THE eatery of choice in Hyder- The Bus

Slide Show:

The Final "That Was Then"

We left Chicken via the Taylor Highway and back down the Alcan this year, headed for Hyder and the real deal Bearville. But two years ago we ventured off across the Top of the World Highway and crossed the mighty Yukon at Dawson City after wrapping up a marvelous and very thorough tour of Alaska- the part you can see "On Wheels." Here then are the posts that wrapped up the journey in 07....That Was Then:

Behind The Blog: Circumstances are different to some degree but it struck me head on how the last in the season feelings of leaving Alaska came around one more time...

I'm tempted to say we were a one trick pony this year in Alaska, staying only in Chicken, prospecting only in Chicken, sightseeing only around Chicken. But in actuality, we spent the entire summer revisiting our past trip to Alaska...around the campfires, at the panning troughs, over dinner or a beer on the deck at the Outpost. We could compare notes with guests, make suggestions to hesitant travelers, assure those who feared to venture where they needed not to fear. We had been there, had done that, and hopefully helped a lot more people to be able to say the same after their trip this year. Alaska In Review

Gold That Tastes Like Chicken: If you never read another one of my posts from Alaska and Chicken in particular, please read this one. Things were very well in focus when i put those words to press...and nothing has changed.

Travel By Top of the World: There's a reason they call it the Top of the World. The view seems to go on and on for ever. Why they call it a highway? That might be a different story. The Jack Wade historic Dredge pictured has not regrettably been dismantled, but here's one last look at the the way things were on Top of the World.

Down At Dawson: A look at the end of the top of the World and the high kicking Diamond Tooth Gertie

Cruising The Cassiar: A look at what's just a head for this year's trip

West To Alaska? Just grin and "bear" it...

Well, that's about it for this final install on the series from two years ago. Thanks for riding down memory lane with us. Nice to have you along!

Flapped Those Wings and Flew The Coop

The cold moon over Alaska has come full four times since we came to the great state for the second time. Another season comes to a close and it is time to fly (flew) the Chicken coop. It was a busy three plus months and sad to see it come to an end but this here coach was not built with the idea of spending the winter in Alaska - so off we go back towards the south and the lower 48, but not without a final wrap up from Chicken, and some interesting stops on the way back "down."

We all shared a couple final salads from the greenhouse. No cold snap claimed anything other than a cucumber plant or two that were growing with scant protection under the plastic but outside the greenhouse proper...


As for the fabled Gundy Mountain - not much remains of the mountain itself, it having been torn down by miners the likes of us intent on finding what was hiding under those layers of overburden but on top of that black diamond basalt. For our part, I suppose we have become the "man who would move a mountain for an ounce of gold" as we took only slightly more than that from our "claim" but every flake, every nugget, no matter how small, holds a special place in our hearts and our "collection." There is always value to what you work hard for and no exception here! So here's a final look at "The Great Wall of Chicken" as Gene named our diggings. We will surely miss "the wall," and Gene as well. We logged a lot of time looking through our good looking material....



A Great Horned Owl stopped by on his way back south as well to see what was going on in camp- oh, and maybe munch a bunch on some snowshoe rabbits and a few squirrels.

The sides went up on the log cabin for the museum, but we didn't get to the point of putting the ridge poll up, so no sod roof to show you for now, maybe another day and another time, who knows?



And the Boys To Men saga of the Tok Boys I started earlier took a short and sweet twist as their day jobs kept them busier than their "golding" and I never did get to shoot the rest of the story I was working on; so for now, all I have is this abbreviated slide show. Tok Guys: You're the best. We loved every minute of your contagious enthusiasm around camp. You rock, dudes!



So for now, I guess that is "The End" of the story from Chicken. (oh, she's probably gonna kill me for this!!!)

As you read this, we are headed a bit further south on the Alcan and then south on 37, the Cassiar Highway enroute to (hopefully) see the bears feasting on salmon in Hyder. As communications are not so hot in this next leg of the journey, you can use the live Google Map to approximate where we are and what we're up to. I'll update it as best I can. I only took the route so far on that map for now, but the intention is to drop south in Canada, then head east, crossing Canada and visiting at least three more provinces along the way. Then drop down into the USA at NY, taking in Niagara Falls (slowly I turned, step by step) before heading back to PA from whence this mammoth venture launched. We will have added nearly 10,000 miles to the odometer since May by the time we get back there. That's a whole lot of driving, a whole lot of adventure, a whole lot of life!

I'll leave you with this sign we photographed in Haines Junction, Yukon Territory as we left Alaska and ask you this question: Do you think those "Block Ice" Souvenirs will all be melted by the time people get them home????



Tonight from Teslin Lakes, Yukon Territiry, adieu.

To be continued....

Just Touching Bases

Wanted to do some blog work the last several days but not able to because someone in camp was eating all the bandwidth with whatever they were doing on line. Computer was slow to NO... so nothing got done. The problem seems to have been corrected as today things were back to the dependable normal we usually have here in camp. All is well, season winding down. Mining portion of the summer finished strong so once again "sticking to it" pays in the long run. Hopefully more real soon- But NOT tonight!

August Roundup

Busy, busy, busy! Time is flying with camp projects, mining activities, sight seeing - leaving no time for the weary. But here's a roundup of things going on the first part of August. A bee-keeper rolled into camp a short while back. He was shutting down his 11 hive operation for the season and taking the last hive and the remaining bees out for a ride in the back of his pickup truck. It gave us all a chance to grab a plastic spoon and take a taste of the fireweed only honey product he produces directly off the honeycombs. Pretty neat- for us that is. But for the bees it's a swan song as they do not winter well here. Actually they really don't winter AT ALL here. Alaska has few if any honey bees as you know them in the lower 48. What hives operate here do so by importing bee colonies annually, shipping them via plane (they cannot cross Canadian borders via vehicle transportation) and dealing both with high cost and high rate of loss owing to cold and altitude during transit. For the bees, this is the "final flight" of the season. When the honey truck (as opposed to the honey wagon which is not the same thing- trust me!) has finished its rounds, most of the bees will have blown out the back and will fall to the mercy of the weather as Fall, then Winter approaches fast here. Already nighttime temps have dipped below 30 and soon they will plummet beyond the bees' ability to survive. The Flight of the Bumblebee will become the Plight of the Bumblebee and only a season's worth of honey in a jar will remain to attest to their ever having been here at all. That- and these photos...



While bee season was drawing to a close, caribou hunting season was just opening. The fast and furious three day season brought many many hunters to our camp which they then used as a launching point for hunting the entire area. Caribou hunted in this area are those of the "Fortymile" herd, so called from the name of the river system and the mining district of the same name and historically very significant to many aspects of life in Alaska. Hunters brought all size and manner of ATV with which to carry themselves and their gear into the deep woods for the hunt. And for that matter, the hunters themselves arrived in all sizes and manner. One in particular caught my attention and while it would have been easy to plaster the post with pictures of hunters, their gear and the game they took out with them, I decided to go with HER to tell the story. Seven (and a half, to be exact) year old Dawson rolled into camp at the close of the season with her dad. One of the largest caribou racks I saw this season was strapped to the bike and the back of the truck they arrived in.

Half jokingly, OK all jokingly, I asked the pint sized hunter, "Did you shoot that big caribou?"
"Yes, sir."
"For real?"
"Uh huh."
"All by your self? With a rifle almost as big as you?"
"Well, daddy knocked it down with his shot, but my shot hit it in the lungs and made the kill..."

"Dad, can I please take her picture with the antlers for the blog I write? Maybe we'll just make her famous?"

"Oh, she's already famous, they named a city in the Yukon after her- Dawson City."

Some hunters are successful in the hunt but some are not. Maybe because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or more aptly the caribou were in the right place at the right time. Who knows? But there is always some poor frustrated hunter out there who can only answer the challenge of a non moving target and takes out a road sign or two in frustration. I thought this 40 mph sign taking a hit in the Fortymile herd range was the perfect way to make the point. What a trophy, Mighty Hunter!

Now about the time all this was happening, another season was coming right up. Lou and her sister Debra were getting ready to celebrate Papa Gene's birthday, and while there was only one candle on the cake after that delicious salmon and halibut meal, I'm thinking it was celebration number 88. Always upbeat, full of vim and vigor, Gene helps out all around camp and his time here with us was real blast! Here's a little slide show from the celebration dinner...



But while day time temps remained pleasant enough for an occasional outdoor dinner or get-to-gether, the nighttime temps started to indicate a change of season in the air. Same thing happened back in Maine but not this ealry and not this extreme. Temperatures at 27 degrees the beginning of August - brrrrrrr. That called for emergency (however temporary) plastic covering of the cold frame part of the greenhouse complex (make it sound big, don't I???) Think of it as "hurry up cold frame emergency procedures..." Hardly air tight, certainly not pretty, but adequate none the less and as of this writing, everything is still producing the way we intended.


So yes it's been pretty busy around here. Always the day to day stuff to keep up with and of course there's always a pocket of gold up in them thar hills that needs finding, but there are long range projects in the works as well. Pedro Dredge is slowly being readied to float to its new position perched overlooking the panning troughs, and we've started building a new log cabin as part of another project to be reported on at another time, but Mike, a consummate collector of all things mining related and Chicken mining in particular, has begun to realize the dream of creating a museum on property. It's fun to be even a minute part of that realization. Old Chicken may yet live again through the display of his collections of machinery, buildings, equipment, articles, antiques and just plain cool junk - as one less than proper antique dealer once displayed on his signage. To that end, he recently acquired and moved an old miners shed from the nearby Bygland Claim. I have been fascinated by that building for two years as I drove past it on daily trips to and from Myers Fork Claim of Chicken Gold Camp. Old. Dilapidated to some degree. Fascinating in every regard. Now it's here..and already it is breathing new life with the TLC it has already received. From the ingenious use of a bucket loader turned fork lift, to its delicate moving proposition, its site preparation and resettling, this has been yet another addition to the now in-full-progress development of the museum to be. Here's a look at the transition of the old shed:












I suppose I could keep going with news from August, but here's the deal: I started all this today at 11:00. Photo management, slide show production, uploads, writing, organizing, what have you...and here it is after 7:00 already- non-stop blog production from Chicken, Alaska. There are places in the world where this could certainly have been done faster. But I'm not there, am I? So that's it for now from Chicken. The cluck stops here!

Splish! Splash!

It sounds more like a bath on a Saturday night than a mining term, I know, but "Splashing" is just that. Splashing refers to "running and gunning" your operation to make use of extremely limited supplies of water when highbanking or dredging. You dig a hole to give yourself as much of a body of water as you can- then you run your equipment until the water supply is nearly spent. Then shut down and wait for the supply to replenish itself- however long that may be. At one point we were running ten minutes and then shutting down nearly an hour for the uptake hole to fill back up- and that was after a day of digging out the hole in the first place. And of late, that's exactly what we have been doing here in Chicken. Streams went nearly dry there for a bit. Now of course, Rainmaker Choan has sent us rain, ice, sleet, hail and has things running fairly well again for the time being. Thanks. I think! Although this 27 degree business in the beginning of August has GOT to stop, Rainmaker!

Below is a look at one of the creek crossings on Myers Fork. The rocks are usually under water. But only a trickle was barely running a couple days ago. Fortunately it is a bit better now and we hope the drought is ending, or at the very least easing up a bit. As of the day this picture was taken, you could cross the usually ice cold stream in your sneakers. No boots necessary! That is for sure not always the case.



But splashing is not JUST a mining term either. With temps high (not now, but a few days ago) the moose were gathering in the ponds that still held water and drinking and bathing to keep cool. This cow and her twin calves were at a roadside stop (moose style) on the Taylor Highway just outside of camp a couple days ago. Moose lovers: here's your slide show!



But splashing was definitely NOT happening in this odd looking RV that came by camp the other day. The Condo RV, looks like half bus and half hen house, so I suppose its showing up in Chicken was not all that out of character. Mike and I gave panning lessons to all 18 "inhabitants" who each have their own berth in the back of the big rig and a bus seat in the front. Is there a shower in there? Nope. Is there a bathroom in there? Nope. Just lots of stops as needed along the way. I asked one of the tourists on board (all German visitors) what it was like to sleep in those tight quarters. She answered that it felt a bit like sleeping in a coffin. Oh, yuk! Not for me! Mike asked if she could hear everyone else snoring at night. That was an affirmative. Way too up close and personal for me. I'll catch the Greyhound thank you very much...

For those wondering, those are dredge line buckets on a sled in the foreground.

That Was Then Again

It's all about the moose right now, but two years ago on the spit in Homer, Alaska it was all about the salmon and the eagles. We took a day trip to Seldovia as well and it was all worth another look to be sure: Salmon On The Spit

S'More Friends: Big kid Marilyn makes friends with the triplets in the Prevost next door on the Spit in Homer and the gang whips up some campfire specialty sweets!

Cold, Wet, and Clammy: We take our "clam gun" and head out onto the flats of Ninilchik stalking the wild Alaskan Razor Clam and come back with a heap o' good eats!

It does my heart good to be recalling these special moments from our 07 trip. Sure hope you are re-enjoying the adventure as much as we are....

Riding Chicken Ridge

Been hot! Been dry and getting drier by the day. There are some days when you just can't prospect in a particular manner of choice because there isn't enough water running in the creek. I have a friend (yes, you "Choan") that I call "the rainmaker". Usually she sends us way too much rain and it got to the point where we had to tell her "Enough already!" Although now, Joan, you need to quit holding out on us because time is running out big time and I NEED the water in the creek if there is to be even a chance of completing the appointed mission of gold acquisition for this summer. So now, going the other way please: "Enough already! And yes, it IS a no win world at times and first we want it one way and now we want it another way, but after all, YOU are the rainmaker, so please to get with the program!

But no mining; no problem! Trail riding. So we headed out of Dodge (that would be Chicken Dodge) to ride the Chicken Ridge or at least the first 8 - 10 miles of it. Venture further away as time and comfort permits. First we headed down to the valley to see the Mosquito River below camp. Low water, but beautiful none-the-less. Clear. Cold. Then headed down the Taylor Highway for a mile or so until the trail headed off and up the hills to the ridge itself. First through heavily treed forest. Then through a section of burnout from the 04 fire- still mostly unrecovered excepting for the fireweed. Eerie and beautiful surroundings all at one time. Moose on the trail, the road and even in the burnout stands. Vista views of the Mosquito where we had launched our ride only an hour or so ago. Perspective changes with elevation. Macro and micro combine to provide the full picture of the time and place. Here's a little sample of the ride up Chicken Ridge:

Moose Airlines

A ride down to "Chicken International" Air Strip almost any day of the week, any hour of the day will provide a good opportunity to visit with one of the local "flight attendants" - a moose! Not sure if there is any organized airline other than the private planes and choppers that come and go from here, but for sure if there are, they should be named "Moose Air." If I were talking about a real airline (which I'm not) what would the flight attendants wear? Goofy hats with big ears and antlers? Furry brown costumes with long beards, knobby knees and hoof shoes? Who knows! The point here is that whenever a plane does come or go there is nearly always a moose standing by to meet and greet. If they are in the brush or the ponds that line the far side of the runway, I think that's pretty cool. But if they decide to wait for the next scheduled arrival mid runway, then I hope and pray I am so not on that flight. If a bird in the engine forces a plane to land in the Hudson River, where on earth does a plane wind up that smacks into a moose upon touchdown?

Anyway, we took the quad down to the strip on a quiet morning, and sat as close as we could for nearly a half hour just watching and listening in the otherwise silence to the moose wading around one of the ponds and munching vegetation. If you've never had the opportunity to be this up close and personal with a munching moose, maybe I can help you out...assuming of course that at some point in your life you went down on the farm and fed a carrot to a horse out of your open outstretched hand. Well, the moose sounds a lot like the horse chomping on the carrot- only add the sound of doing so at or below the surface of the water. Sort of a combo of chomping down a carrot and bobbing for an apple at the same time. If there are no other sounds at the time, this is a perfectly symphonic sound of nature and a joy for the eyes and the ears all at once. I can't do sound on the slide shows yet, but what I tried to do was shoot a relatively unencumbered and unedited series of the moose migrating around the pond and having a splendid time doing lunch. She kept tabs on us, but never really paid us much attention and we made a point of being quiet and leaving her to enjoy the meal and the cool water in relative peace and harmony. So imagine the sounds as best you can...and watch the flight attendant for moose air take a lunch break....

A Dredge named Pedro

Chicken Gold Camp is home to the gold dredge that once pushed its massive barge like body up and down these valleys capturing the gold that was lodged below in the most of the time frozen ground below it. Originally named gold dredge #4, it was renamed to reflect the name of the first creek it was designed to mine: Pedro Creek (when it was apparent that another company operated another dredge that was also designated as number 4). Personally I think in this day and age it is better to have a name instead of a number anyway. Unless of course you have the number that happens to be the next winner of the mega lotto in which case it is better to have the number and keep your name out of matters at least for a while.

But Mike Busby invited me to accompany a group on the on-site tour a couple days ago, and what a great tour it is! Mike's lived and mined in these parts for 30 plus or minus years and he's just plum full of all kinds of information a person would just be loving to learning about if gold or anything to do with it is right up there on your list of things you are interested in. It's not my intention to give the history of the dredge here, just a look at the enormous by relatively simple piece of machinery that helped to tame the goldfields of Alaska and the Yukon, and for that matter, many other placed in the world as well. You can look at the Gold Camp web site for a summary article on the dredge which also provides a link to a very informative article with a lot more "meat" that Mike authored. It's an amazing piece of machinery and what it could do in the worst of climates and conditions is a marvel to behold.


Here's a slide show from the tour:

"great" Grandparents

Certainly I had some wonderful time and experiences spent with my grandparents as I was growing up. They were "great" grandparents. Not the twice removed variety; no, I just mean to say that they were great people of great character. They were simple and hard working. They were caring and loving. Something I did not get from them was a love of travel. For the most part they stayed close to home and if they even went on vacation type trips of any substance I don't remember them. Just that one semi annual trip to Philadelphia on the train with my maternal grandmother to do some Christmas shopping via the Kris Kringle Express. I thought of that as an adventure, yes, but more like an outing, although I suppose all things grow from small seeds planted.

But to be sure, there were no cross country trips, no flights to Europe, no explorations to the Caribbean Islands, no safaris, no summer long trips to Alaska. That was beyond their means and perhaps beyond their dreams- I really can't say. And while I loved them dearly and can't think how I could possibly have loved them more, I find myself increasingly pleased with grandparents who take their grandchildren on trips (I know my parents did that with my own son). Not because they are doing something "more" or something "better" but just because they are making family time and memories that are the kind of experiences that last a lifetime and foster the kinds of adventure that can be life changing.

We've had quite a few grandparent/grandchild visitors at Chicken Gold Camp, from Grandpa Gary and Grandson Josh who teamed up to find the largest nugget ever found here by a recreational miner (as far as I know), right up to this soon to be eighth grade granddaughter who arrived a few days ago to take panning lessons for a short while and didn't leave until days later after some really serious success at the panning trough. I gave them their first lesson...and it was off to the races. From that first peek at a speck of gold at the bottom of the first pan- the fever was on, it was infectious and there was joy and laughter for several days to follow. What a wonderful world of adventure these grandparents are able to open for their legacy. Was there more to this adventure than just gold fever? Would you think a young girl catching her first ever King Salmon (32 pounds) on the Kenai River sounds impressive and memorable? Or getting to steer the glacier tour boat LuLu Belle out of Valdez through icy waters on a whale watch excursion to be pretty special? Just a few of the glimpses into the world grandparents are opening for their grandchild.

This youngster was a real joy. Bright. Happy. Eager to learn and quick to pick up on what worked and what didn't. She was having the time of her life! And I don't mean "The trip of her life." Because with experiences like these under her belt, the world will call to come and see more and more as time and circumstances allow. Much more likely this is the first of many, as opposed to the one and only. I hope she knows and underdstands what a marvelous gift her grandparents have given her...and I told her as much. Little sister is on deck for next year and she's talking California here I Come. No problem. There's gold there too!

Thank you guys for staying with us in Chicken, You were great guests. Great Grandparents! We enjoyed your stay as much as we hope and think you did. Oh and one more thing: Go Wildcats!

The Plural Of Moose, More On Good Looking Material, and a Piece of History Rolls Out of Eagle

I know. The plural of mouse is mice. The plural of louse is lice. So you're thinking the plural of moose should be what? Mice? Meece? Nope. Just Moose. One moose. Two moose. A whole lot of moose, which is really the only point I'm trying to make here. There are a lot of Moose in Chicken. I know how that sounds wierd, but it's true. And lately they have been showing up just about everywhere. In Camp. On the claim. By the side of the road. In the pond by the air strip. And even strolling leisurely down the landing strip itself. I guess it's just a good year for moose. In the plural that is to say. Lots of moose!







Claim Director Gene and I are working side by side mini claims up on Myers Fork. The water is pretty low at the moment- there is (are) more moose than water at the moment so there is much anticipation on what will show up for "color" when we can start running again. Overburden is being moved. Bad looking material being thrown to the side. Good looking material being readied to run. But what of good looking material? Even in side by side holes in the ground, the "look" can be drastically different. So, the question becomes: Is one "good looking material" better looking material than the other. While that remains to be seen (we'll see how it all "pans out") the difference in the appearance of the earth as we excavate it is a most fascinationg part of the exploration for gold. And while we wait to see what will eventuslly come out of the ground- in the meantime we can enjoy more and more of our good looking material.




A piece of history rolled out of Eagle today on the back of a flatbed and not under its own power. At first I thought maybe it was an RV belonging to someone who failed to heed the "soft shoulder" warning on Top of the World Highway and wound up on the "bottom" of the world highway. But instead it turned out to be an old bus that just happened to be in the village of Eagle when the ice was unleashed from the mighty Yukon River during Spring breakup. This should give "Spring Break" a new face for sure. No. The bus was not in an accident. It had simply been crushed by a block of ice as it overflowed the river bank and headed into the village. I thought it funny to look at for a moment, then thought of how sad it actually was- this memento of an event , a time, a place, where lives and history both were changed forever by a single wave of the wand by Mother Nature. The bus is headed for recycling in Fairbanks. The people of Eagle are back home struggling to rebuild ...or have moved away to try their luck in some other place. The bus is but a sign of the times in Alaska.

And Two Years Ago, this time:

Exit Only: A look at one of Alaska's most popular glaciers

IDIDARIDE: A tourists first hand look at "mushing" behind a team of sled dogs

Kenai Fjord Cruise: A whale of a tale, uh tail- oh heck, lots of marine life and plenty if ice...

Sockeye It To Me: we ride um, rope um, catch um on a fly rod

The Gold Metal: a look at the gold from the early part of our first trip to Alaska

That about wraps up another post from Chicken headed into the end of July. It was hot today- well into the 80's. It will still dip into the high 40's tonight, but even that will seem warm and is perfect for sound and restful sleeping. And actually, that sounds pretty good to me right about now....