Homer, McCarthy, and Kennecot
(posted from Prince William Sound Community College, Valdez, AK)
(This post covers 10-12 August, 2008)
-----------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, 12 August-
We had one of our coldest nights of this trip last night—38 degrees--- but an early sun rise put us in the mid-Forties by the time we finished breakfast.
We drove the remaining 12 miles to McCarthy over some of the roughest road of the trip— minefields of potholes and more potholes, all steep-sided and water-filled. It was miserable but do-able if driven very slowly— under ten miles per hour.
The town of McCarthy is not at the end of the road, it’s actually beyond the end of the road. The road ends at a river- the Kennicot. To visit McCarthy, you walk across a footbridge and either wait for a shuttle van ($5 per ride) or walk the half-mile into town. We parked at the national park’s remote visitor’s center and walked the half-mile to the bridge, then the half-mile into McCarthy. Labashi was hungry so we tried a little lunch-counter-style shack called ‘The Potato — God Fod’ (someone had painted over the other two ohs). Though it was only ten in the morning we shared a delicious pulled-pork sandwich and curly-fries and I had a very good Kahladi mocha.
We then walked all of McCarthy in about ten minutes. It’s dirt roads, tiny little ramshackle houses, a saloon, an old hotel, a ‘mercantile’, and several storefronts for guiding and flightseeing businesses. About 75 people live in McCarthy, most of them younger. Somehow, it works. I make it sound depressing but it’s actually interesting.
In the flight-charters shop we asked about prices and they ranged from $95 per person for a 35-minute flight to $210 each for 90 minutes. When I asked whether I could walk to the air-strip, the guy said we could take the Kennecot shuttle as far as the airstrip for free, get a good view of the mill and glacier, then walk back. The Kennecot shuttle is another $5-per-ride van ride, this time five miles up the valley to a massive abandoned copper mine and processing mill. There are 70 miles of mine passageway in the mountains behind it. The Kennecot mill took a $100 million dollars worth of copper out of these mountains. The National Park Service now owns many of the buildings and is slowly restoring them.
We took the guy up on his offer and loaded into the van, telling the driver to drop us off at the airstrip. After what seemed like a long ride I asked the driver how far it was yet to the air strip—I had thought it only a mile total. He had forgotten about us and right around the corner was the Kennecot mill. He sheepishly said we were free to look around the mill or come back with him to the airstrip. Lucky us!
We walked the mill for the next hour and it fascinated us to watch the workmen rebuilding the old mill and to try to imagine the hustle and bustle all around and through these buildings in their working days. And the view is spectacular. The icy-blue glacier hangs in the mountain and its moraines fill the valley in front of us. Another glacier lies in the distance and the river winds toward the horizon.
We took the shuttle back to McCarthy and Labashi was hungry again (Ok, I didn’t object). We once again relied on The Potato to give us something good—and it didn’t disappoint. We shared a Thai Peanut Wrap, again a winner.
We walked back to the van, again watching for bears. We had been hearing stories of the townspeople seeing black bears in the soapberry patches near town. And there were soapberry patches everywhere.
We then headed back out the McCarthy Road and declared today a good one. We really enjoyed eccentric little McCarthy and the Kennecot plant.
The trip back the McCarthy Road was immensely improved. Last night we had seen two road-graders parked near Long Lake and they had been working all day. The worst of the potholes were gone. Great!
Our good mood lasted until mile 33 when we had another flat. This time I felt the steering feeling go less responsive. I stopped to check and the tire was losing air as I watched.
We first tried something else I had picked up at a Wal-mart—the Fairbanks Wal-mart in this case. In preparation for the trip up the Dalton, I bought an Ultra-Instant Tire Inflator-Sealer. It’s a can of compressed gas with a foaming sealer-adhesive inside. You plug it in to the tire valve and let it pump in the foamy adhesive gunk while also putting some air pressure in the tire. Then you’re supposed to drive for 1-3 miles and the pressure is supposed to continue to build, pumping the tire up to near-normal.
Well, it only partially worked. It did pump the tire up enough for me to drive very slowly but when I checked the hole, there was still foamy adhesive (and air) leaking out. I put the jack under the frame and was about to unbolt the wheel when I thought I may as well try a plug. The plug did its job and we were soon underway again, another lesson learned. Forget the inflator-sealer. Stock up on tire plugs.
We drove on to mile 17.5 and stopped there for the night. If the tire has a problem this is a good place to wrestle the spare out from under the van. And if we need it the tire shop will be open by the time we get there in the morning. And this is a free campsite with a great view!
As we drove in we noticed a dog running about and eventually checked his tag and saw that he was from the milepost 15 area (his tag said ‘McCarthy Road, Mile 15’. But he seemed confused. Eventually Labashi came up with the theory that he had crossed the high trestle-bridge carrying the McCarthy Road over the Kuskulana River at milepost 17 (just before our pullout) and he was afraid to go back. She walked him back across the bridge and as they neared the far side, the dog made a dash for familiar territory. Good deed for today. Check.
We spent the rest of the evening blogging and reading.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Monday, 11 August-
We slept well but woke very early and decided to look for wildlife as we drove out to the hard road. We were underway by 0600 and saw a ptarmigan as we left our site at Lower Ohmer Lake. Since it was only 8-1/2 miles to the hard road, we drove back each of the side roads, hoping to spot something on the move. At Upper Skilac Lake we saw more ptarmigans--- a half-dozen or so--- and more snowshoe hares (we had been seeing them all through the Refuge). At Hidden Creek Campground we just came out to the stop sign as a large bear ran across the road. This one was dark brown in color and crossed the road in about three seconds.
On the hard road we headed for Anchorage, some 108 miles away. At Tern Lake we stopped at the salmon viewing area and took some pictures of the bright-red sockeyes. The air was cool enough that we could see our breath so we didn’t tarry.
As we left I noticed a forest road at the back of the parking area. The sign had a forest-road number and said ‘Old Sterling Highway’. Well it may have been old and it may go toward Sterling but it was no highway. At first it led through tall pines and may have been wide enough for two vehicles to pass very close but then it narrowed. We passed several places where a vehicle could turn around so I figured I’d just keep going—I could always back out to the turnaround. This went on for another mile of leading me on, all the time narrowing, now to the point where one mirror, then both were pushing aside vegetation and the overhead branches were getting low enough to sweep the roof. We had a few mud-holes but they weren’t bad—but then again I wouldn’t want them any deeper. The turnaround-spots ended and we kept going—we’d just have to back out further if nothing showed up. The right side dropped away and we had a steep slope—better watch out for soft spots. Finally, after we passed a wider spot in the road at the top of a hill, we found the road dropping steeply and could see muddy ruts at the bottom. It was time to say enough-is-enough. And we didn’t see a thing in there—it was too overgrown. But still an adventure. What a ‘highway’!
Our drive through the remainder of the Kenai Peninsula led us through sweeping views in morning light; it looked very different now.
As we neared Anchorage we noticed a dozen vehicles at the pullout called Beluga Point and that made us look closer. There in the river were belugas. They were traveling in groups of three or four and all we’d see would be a good, long view of the white backs and sides lit by that pretty light from behind us. What a sight to see them in the foreground with Turnagain Arm stretching into Cook Inlet off in the distance and the steep snow-topped mountains to our right and behind us.
We buzzed through Anchorage and turned for Palmer. This area is the Matanuska Valley and Alaska’s largest agricultural area but there’s not a lot of evidence of it here along the Glenn Highway. Before long we started seeing snow on the peaks on the far side of the Matanuska River and the road narrowed to two-lane. We then had several hours of nice driving with one interruption—a long road-construction delay. But once past the delay we drove through very interesting country. After viewing the Matanuska Glacier, we had arctic-like vegetation on the right in muskeg-and-lakes zone with steep mountains in the far background while on our left, the land sloped and therefore drier and much of it covered in aspen and larch.
At Glenallen we turned south toward Valdez. But within a few miles we saw the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park Visitor’s Center. It was now about 1600 and we had been driving since 0600 so we were looking for our place for the night. But once we saw the introductory movie for the national park and saw the weather report for the next several days, we decided we’d go into the park. Today was sunny but tomorrow overcast-and-showers and the next day rainy. If we went this evening, we’d get the best views and tomorrow might be okay for most of the day.
Wrangell-St. Elias is the largest of the national parks but is difficult to visit. There are two roads into it, both dirt. The Nabena Road is the rougher of the two and has washouts and stream crossings requiring higher-clearance vehicles. The McCarthy Road is 62 miles of old railroad bed leading to the old copper-mining mill at Kennecott and nearby McCarthy.
We were 40 miles from the latter and it was almost 1700 already but the evening was so nice and we were re-energized by the views of the massive snowy peaks in the distance.
We were on the McCarthy Road by 1830. But at mile 12.5 we came upon two young guys with not one but two flat tires. As I passed I asked if they had everything they need and one said they sure could use an air pump. Thus we met Sven Johnson and James Heuser. Sven was driving an old Mercedes station wagon with badly worn tires. They had apparently changed one only to have a second puncture.
Once they got used to the novel idea of my 30-year-old manual tire pump and exercised it a little, it became clear the hole was too big to just pump up the tire and dash for Chitina and the tire shop. I had an el-cheapo tire-plugging kit I had bought at Wal-mart last winter in Florida so we gave that a try. When that appeared to work we plugged the other one too but both had very slow leaks. But it would work for the trip to the tire shop. At that point Labashi served pink lemonade all around in celebration.
Sven, we learned, is from Talkeetna and his buddy James is visiting from Ohio. Labashi had them sign her log book and Sven took the opportunity to thank us. But if it hadn’t been us, it would have been someone else.
We continued east on the McCarthy, sometimes through short washboard or pothole sections but comfortable enough at 20-25 miles per hour. We checked a possible informal campsite – a very nice large pullout-- at mile 17.5 but decided we should go on— let’s try the railroad trestle at 30. But that didn’t work so we thought we’d try a fishing lake at mile 45. And from that point our options kept getting smaller and smaller and it was almost dark. Finally, at 2130 we found a large pullout which allowed us to get off the narrow road far enough. We had a quick supper and went to bed.
We had enjoyed the views but the massive peaks we had seen in the distance as we approached the park had all but disappeared behind closer, smaller mountains. The only wildlife we had seen was snowshoe hares.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sunday, 10 August-
We had planned to visit the Pratt Museum today but it wasn’t open yet when we arrived at 0900 so we went to the Alaska Islands and Ocean Visitor’s Center again and continued our visit of yesterday.
We then drove to the ferry terminal to get an idea of costs for ferry trips in the Alaska Marine Highway system. I see the trip from Haines to Bellingham (Washington)—the famous Inside Passage-- would cost us over $2000 (!!!!).
But I also see the Haines-to-Skagway ferry ride is $111. That one would pay since I’d otherwise have to spend about $300 to drive around to Skagway and then backtrack from Skagway to the Alaska Highway to continue on. Hopefully we can get a ferry ride there.
After the ferry terminal we shopped at the Safeway for supplies and I took advantage of their free wi-fi connection to check mail and update the blog.
We then once again drove to the Pratt but while in the parking lot remembered we had seen a poster about a 1300 lecture at the Islands and Ocean Center—and it was almost time.
We thoroughly enjoyed a lecture and slide show about the Pribilof Islands by Jeff Dickrell. Jeff’s specialty is history and he did a terrific job of recounting the history of the hunting fur-bearers (sea otters and fur-seals) by Russians, then Americans, then Japanese. It’s not difficult to understand the rush for the furs when you understand this point: a single sea-otter fur (and later the fur of the fur-seal) was worth (on the Chinese market) the equivalent of a year’s pay to a sailor.
It was also here that we learned about the devastation of the sea-bird populations by artic foxes and by rats. The arctic foxes were imported and released on the Aleutians for fox-farming, i.e., growing foxes for their furs. Rats were in some cases released for the foxes to eat and in others were inadvertently introduced to an island by a shipwreck. An arctic-fox eradication project has been going on for 40 years --- one island a year --- and has been successful. A rat-eradication project has more recently been started and it’s as yet unclear whether complete elimination of rats on an island is even possible.
The natives of the Pribilofs and the Aleutians in general were treated badly, particularly in 1942 when the Japanese invaded the far reaches of the Aleutians and even bombed Dutch Harbor. Because the natives had not been ‘conquered’, as had the Indians of the Lower 48, there were no treaties and they did not fall under the Bureau of Indian Affairs but rather under the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. The Service removed the people from the islands but had difficulty determining what to do with them and the results were predictable. In some cases, community death rates were as high as 25%. And in some cases the young men were forced to hunt fur-seals in the very areas where they were told it was too dangerous for them to live and subsist—and all the fur profits went to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. This went on as late as the 1960’s!
We took a short walk to Beluga Cove and decided it was time to leave Homer. We never did get to the Pratt but we were nevertheless ready to go. We drove north for several hours, back to the same campground (Lower Ohmer Lake) in the Kenai Wildlife Refuge. As we neared the campground turnoff, Labashi spotted a black bear but I didn’t see that one.
After supper we blogged and read and watched for loons and bears across the glassy-smooth lake.
============== END OF POST =============
(posted from Prince William Sound Community College, Valdez, AK)
(This post covers 10-12 August, 2008)
-----------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, 12 August-
We had one of our coldest nights of this trip last night—38 degrees--- but an early sun rise put us in the mid-Forties by the time we finished breakfast.
We drove the remaining 12 miles to McCarthy over some of the roughest road of the trip— minefields of potholes and more potholes, all steep-sided and water-filled. It was miserable but do-able if driven very slowly— under ten miles per hour.
The town of McCarthy is not at the end of the road, it’s actually beyond the end of the road. The road ends at a river- the Kennicot. To visit McCarthy, you walk across a footbridge and either wait for a shuttle van ($5 per ride) or walk the half-mile into town. We parked at the national park’s remote visitor’s center and walked the half-mile to the bridge, then the half-mile into McCarthy. Labashi was hungry so we tried a little lunch-counter-style shack called ‘The Potato — God Fod’ (someone had painted over the other two ohs). Though it was only ten in the morning we shared a delicious pulled-pork sandwich and curly-fries and I had a very good Kahladi mocha.
We then walked all of McCarthy in about ten minutes. It’s dirt roads, tiny little ramshackle houses, a saloon, an old hotel, a ‘mercantile’, and several storefronts for guiding and flightseeing businesses. About 75 people live in McCarthy, most of them younger. Somehow, it works. I make it sound depressing but it’s actually interesting.
In the flight-charters shop we asked about prices and they ranged from $95 per person for a 35-minute flight to $210 each for 90 minutes. When I asked whether I could walk to the air-strip, the guy said we could take the Kennecot shuttle as far as the airstrip for free, get a good view of the mill and glacier, then walk back. The Kennecot shuttle is another $5-per-ride van ride, this time five miles up the valley to a massive abandoned copper mine and processing mill. There are 70 miles of mine passageway in the mountains behind it. The Kennecot mill took a $100 million dollars worth of copper out of these mountains. The National Park Service now owns many of the buildings and is slowly restoring them.
We took the guy up on his offer and loaded into the van, telling the driver to drop us off at the airstrip. After what seemed like a long ride I asked the driver how far it was yet to the air strip—I had thought it only a mile total. He had forgotten about us and right around the corner was the Kennecot mill. He sheepishly said we were free to look around the mill or come back with him to the airstrip. Lucky us!
We walked the mill for the next hour and it fascinated us to watch the workmen rebuilding the old mill and to try to imagine the hustle and bustle all around and through these buildings in their working days. And the view is spectacular. The icy-blue glacier hangs in the mountain and its moraines fill the valley in front of us. Another glacier lies in the distance and the river winds toward the horizon.
We took the shuttle back to McCarthy and Labashi was hungry again (Ok, I didn’t object). We once again relied on The Potato to give us something good—and it didn’t disappoint. We shared a Thai Peanut Wrap, again a winner.
We walked back to the van, again watching for bears. We had been hearing stories of the townspeople seeing black bears in the soapberry patches near town. And there were soapberry patches everywhere.
We then headed back out the McCarthy Road and declared today a good one. We really enjoyed eccentric little McCarthy and the Kennecot plant.
The trip back the McCarthy Road was immensely improved. Last night we had seen two road-graders parked near Long Lake and they had been working all day. The worst of the potholes were gone. Great!
Our good mood lasted until mile 33 when we had another flat. This time I felt the steering feeling go less responsive. I stopped to check and the tire was losing air as I watched.
We first tried something else I had picked up at a Wal-mart—the Fairbanks Wal-mart in this case. In preparation for the trip up the Dalton, I bought an Ultra-Instant Tire Inflator-Sealer. It’s a can of compressed gas with a foaming sealer-adhesive inside. You plug it in to the tire valve and let it pump in the foamy adhesive gunk while also putting some air pressure in the tire. Then you’re supposed to drive for 1-3 miles and the pressure is supposed to continue to build, pumping the tire up to near-normal.
Well, it only partially worked. It did pump the tire up enough for me to drive very slowly but when I checked the hole, there was still foamy adhesive (and air) leaking out. I put the jack under the frame and was about to unbolt the wheel when I thought I may as well try a plug. The plug did its job and we were soon underway again, another lesson learned. Forget the inflator-sealer. Stock up on tire plugs.
We drove on to mile 17.5 and stopped there for the night. If the tire has a problem this is a good place to wrestle the spare out from under the van. And if we need it the tire shop will be open by the time we get there in the morning. And this is a free campsite with a great view!
As we drove in we noticed a dog running about and eventually checked his tag and saw that he was from the milepost 15 area (his tag said ‘McCarthy Road, Mile 15’. But he seemed confused. Eventually Labashi came up with the theory that he had crossed the high trestle-bridge carrying the McCarthy Road over the Kuskulana River at milepost 17 (just before our pullout) and he was afraid to go back. She walked him back across the bridge and as they neared the far side, the dog made a dash for familiar territory. Good deed for today. Check.
We spent the rest of the evening blogging and reading.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Monday, 11 August-
We slept well but woke very early and decided to look for wildlife as we drove out to the hard road. We were underway by 0600 and saw a ptarmigan as we left our site at Lower Ohmer Lake. Since it was only 8-1/2 miles to the hard road, we drove back each of the side roads, hoping to spot something on the move. At Upper Skilac Lake we saw more ptarmigans--- a half-dozen or so--- and more snowshoe hares (we had been seeing them all through the Refuge). At Hidden Creek Campground we just came out to the stop sign as a large bear ran across the road. This one was dark brown in color and crossed the road in about three seconds.
On the hard road we headed for Anchorage, some 108 miles away. At Tern Lake we stopped at the salmon viewing area and took some pictures of the bright-red sockeyes. The air was cool enough that we could see our breath so we didn’t tarry.
As we left I noticed a forest road at the back of the parking area. The sign had a forest-road number and said ‘Old Sterling Highway’. Well it may have been old and it may go toward Sterling but it was no highway. At first it led through tall pines and may have been wide enough for two vehicles to pass very close but then it narrowed. We passed several places where a vehicle could turn around so I figured I’d just keep going—I could always back out to the turnaround. This went on for another mile of leading me on, all the time narrowing, now to the point where one mirror, then both were pushing aside vegetation and the overhead branches were getting low enough to sweep the roof. We had a few mud-holes but they weren’t bad—but then again I wouldn’t want them any deeper. The turnaround-spots ended and we kept going—we’d just have to back out further if nothing showed up. The right side dropped away and we had a steep slope—better watch out for soft spots. Finally, after we passed a wider spot in the road at the top of a hill, we found the road dropping steeply and could see muddy ruts at the bottom. It was time to say enough-is-enough. And we didn’t see a thing in there—it was too overgrown. But still an adventure. What a ‘highway’!
Our drive through the remainder of the Kenai Peninsula led us through sweeping views in morning light; it looked very different now.
As we neared Anchorage we noticed a dozen vehicles at the pullout called Beluga Point and that made us look closer. There in the river were belugas. They were traveling in groups of three or four and all we’d see would be a good, long view of the white backs and sides lit by that pretty light from behind us. What a sight to see them in the foreground with Turnagain Arm stretching into Cook Inlet off in the distance and the steep snow-topped mountains to our right and behind us.
We buzzed through Anchorage and turned for Palmer. This area is the Matanuska Valley and Alaska’s largest agricultural area but there’s not a lot of evidence of it here along the Glenn Highway. Before long we started seeing snow on the peaks on the far side of the Matanuska River and the road narrowed to two-lane. We then had several hours of nice driving with one interruption—a long road-construction delay. But once past the delay we drove through very interesting country. After viewing the Matanuska Glacier, we had arctic-like vegetation on the right in muskeg-and-lakes zone with steep mountains in the far background while on our left, the land sloped and therefore drier and much of it covered in aspen and larch.
At Glenallen we turned south toward Valdez. But within a few miles we saw the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park Visitor’s Center. It was now about 1600 and we had been driving since 0600 so we were looking for our place for the night. But once we saw the introductory movie for the national park and saw the weather report for the next several days, we decided we’d go into the park. Today was sunny but tomorrow overcast-and-showers and the next day rainy. If we went this evening, we’d get the best views and tomorrow might be okay for most of the day.
Wrangell-St. Elias is the largest of the national parks but is difficult to visit. There are two roads into it, both dirt. The Nabena Road is the rougher of the two and has washouts and stream crossings requiring higher-clearance vehicles. The McCarthy Road is 62 miles of old railroad bed leading to the old copper-mining mill at Kennecott and nearby McCarthy.
We were 40 miles from the latter and it was almost 1700 already but the evening was so nice and we were re-energized by the views of the massive snowy peaks in the distance.
We were on the McCarthy Road by 1830. But at mile 12.5 we came upon two young guys with not one but two flat tires. As I passed I asked if they had everything they need and one said they sure could use an air pump. Thus we met Sven Johnson and James Heuser. Sven was driving an old Mercedes station wagon with badly worn tires. They had apparently changed one only to have a second puncture.
Once they got used to the novel idea of my 30-year-old manual tire pump and exercised it a little, it became clear the hole was too big to just pump up the tire and dash for Chitina and the tire shop. I had an el-cheapo tire-plugging kit I had bought at Wal-mart last winter in Florida so we gave that a try. When that appeared to work we plugged the other one too but both had very slow leaks. But it would work for the trip to the tire shop. At that point Labashi served pink lemonade all around in celebration.
Sven, we learned, is from Talkeetna and his buddy James is visiting from Ohio. Labashi had them sign her log book and Sven took the opportunity to thank us. But if it hadn’t been us, it would have been someone else.
We continued east on the McCarthy, sometimes through short washboard or pothole sections but comfortable enough at 20-25 miles per hour. We checked a possible informal campsite – a very nice large pullout-- at mile 17.5 but decided we should go on— let’s try the railroad trestle at 30. But that didn’t work so we thought we’d try a fishing lake at mile 45. And from that point our options kept getting smaller and smaller and it was almost dark. Finally, at 2130 we found a large pullout which allowed us to get off the narrow road far enough. We had a quick supper and went to bed.
We had enjoyed the views but the massive peaks we had seen in the distance as we approached the park had all but disappeared behind closer, smaller mountains. The only wildlife we had seen was snowshoe hares.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Sunday, 10 August-
We had planned to visit the Pratt Museum today but it wasn’t open yet when we arrived at 0900 so we went to the Alaska Islands and Ocean Visitor’s Center again and continued our visit of yesterday.
We then drove to the ferry terminal to get an idea of costs for ferry trips in the Alaska Marine Highway system. I see the trip from Haines to Bellingham (Washington)—the famous Inside Passage-- would cost us over $2000 (!!!!).
But I also see the Haines-to-Skagway ferry ride is $111. That one would pay since I’d otherwise have to spend about $300 to drive around to Skagway and then backtrack from Skagway to the Alaska Highway to continue on. Hopefully we can get a ferry ride there.
After the ferry terminal we shopped at the Safeway for supplies and I took advantage of their free wi-fi connection to check mail and update the blog.
We then once again drove to the Pratt but while in the parking lot remembered we had seen a poster about a 1300 lecture at the Islands and Ocean Center—and it was almost time.
We thoroughly enjoyed a lecture and slide show about the Pribilof Islands by Jeff Dickrell. Jeff’s specialty is history and he did a terrific job of recounting the history of the hunting fur-bearers (sea otters and fur-seals) by Russians, then Americans, then Japanese. It’s not difficult to understand the rush for the furs when you understand this point: a single sea-otter fur (and later the fur of the fur-seal) was worth (on the Chinese market) the equivalent of a year’s pay to a sailor.
It was also here that we learned about the devastation of the sea-bird populations by artic foxes and by rats. The arctic foxes were imported and released on the Aleutians for fox-farming, i.e., growing foxes for their furs. Rats were in some cases released for the foxes to eat and in others were inadvertently introduced to an island by a shipwreck. An arctic-fox eradication project has been going on for 40 years --- one island a year --- and has been successful. A rat-eradication project has more recently been started and it’s as yet unclear whether complete elimination of rats on an island is even possible.
The natives of the Pribilofs and the Aleutians in general were treated badly, particularly in 1942 when the Japanese invaded the far reaches of the Aleutians and even bombed Dutch Harbor. Because the natives had not been ‘conquered’, as had the Indians of the Lower 48, there were no treaties and they did not fall under the Bureau of Indian Affairs but rather under the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. The Service removed the people from the islands but had difficulty determining what to do with them and the results were predictable. In some cases, community death rates were as high as 25%. And in some cases the young men were forced to hunt fur-seals in the very areas where they were told it was too dangerous for them to live and subsist—and all the fur profits went to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. This went on as late as the 1960’s!
We took a short walk to Beluga Cove and decided it was time to leave Homer. We never did get to the Pratt but we were nevertheless ready to go. We drove north for several hours, back to the same campground (Lower Ohmer Lake) in the Kenai Wildlife Refuge. As we neared the campground turnoff, Labashi spotted a black bear but I didn’t see that one.
After supper we blogged and read and watched for loons and bears across the glassy-smooth lake.
============== END OF POST =============
posted by Bezabor&Labashi | 23:59
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