Cottongrass

No, it's not snow, but from a distance it just might fool you.  This was early one morning last week, and, as always, my photo just doesn't do it justice.  One of the first plants to flower when the snow melts is cottongrass.  It's not actually a grass but a sedge -- if that matters to you at all -- but you can see why it's called "cotton."  It's a very common tundra plant, and you tend to find it where the tundra is "tussocky."

Notice how the cottongrass looks like it's growing out of a mound?  Well, it is.  That mound is called a tussock.  The tundra's like a sponge.  Water in the soil can't drain down very far because it hits ice, and the soil's also full of organic material that holds on to the water.  During the summer it can be mushy and even feel like you're walking on a sponge.  When the water freezes in winter, it expands and wedges apart pieces of soil.  In spring when the ice thaws, water trickles into the cracks, eroding them more.  This goes on and on.  Over time, tussocks form because the roots of grasses and sedges hold the soil in place while ice and water form some fairly deep troughs all around them.

Take another look at that first photo.  Does it look like a nice walk through a flat, open prairie?  Think again!  Walking through tussock tundra can be exhausting!  You can either keep your feet in the troughs where it might be softer, wetter with knee high tussocks to clamber over, or you can try to step from tussock to tussock where it's dry and seemingly effortless.  However, the tussocks are just narrow columns of soil held in place by roots, so as you step on them, they wobble.  Frankly, I don't know how the caribou migrate so many miles across the tundra without breaking their skinny legs!

Here's a poem I came across a while back about cottongrass (scientific name = Eriophorum vaginatum).  (It references climate change and the fact that as the tundra dries, shrubs establish themselves where they couldn't before and begin to choke out plants like cottongrass.)

Ode to Eriophorum Vaginatum
By Benjamin Shaw

Walking over Eriophorum,
Watch your step or you’ll fall off ‘em.

Hiking through the Arctic tundra,
Tussocks make me stop to wonder.

How does this sedge survive the snow,
The fire too and yet still grow?

The puff-ball stalks sway in the breeze
And look like real-life Truffula Trees.

Now, should I step upon the mound
Or simply try to go around?

The tundra’s boggy, low and wet
So that dry tuft could help me yet.

But one wrong move could cause a sprain
And aggravate my ankle pain.

A sedge encounter yesterday
Already has me in dismay.

Now if the Arctic grows too warm
The vegetation will transform.

No longer would these tussocks thrive.
Willows and birches would arrive.

And though I curse the path today
And know flat ground would ease my way,

I’d miss that plant if it did stray.
I hope E. Vag is here to stay.

Cottongrass is a fairly iconic tundra plant.  The kids don't usually know many of the plants around here, but they all know cottongrass.  It's just one of those fun, cool-looking plants like dandelions or something.  I had forgotten the poem referenced truffula trees.  That's what I always think of, too.  Truffula trees are the subject of The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss.  Fitting reference in that poem as well since it's a story about conservation.

PSA

This is what I've been waiting to post!  First, some background.  In the old NPS visitor center, the one we used when I first moved here, there was a small corner of a room devoted to kids.  It had games, books, bean bags, etc., and some local kids would hang out with us throughout the day.  Since we just staffed the visitor center during the summer, it was just for June to August, but they got used to coming around.  When we opened the new visitor center -- the Northwest Arctic Heritage Center -- we lost that cozy little kids' corner.  The building houses our offices and has a specific interpretive design, so there was no place to dedicate to kids.  However, we all wanted to make sure the local kids could keep the habit of visiting with us, so we established "kids' hour," from 4:00 - 5:00 every day we're open, during the whole year.  Of course kids come with parents any time, but kids' hour is for the ones playing on their own.  The kids come and go, but there are usually anywhere from 2 to 10 every day.  They look through the exhibit, watch movies, or play games in the lobby.  Whoever is working during kids' hour sometimes has a low-structure, fun, educational activity as well.

Just before we went to Nome, I realized that I needed to get a public service announcement to the radio about our summer kids' programs because we'd be starting up as soon as we returned.  It was a Thursday.  I thought it might be fun to have the kids work on the PSA -- a good experience for them, and it let me avoid the kind of attention I don't enjoy!  So, I started working on a little script in case kids came in that day.  I had about half of it finished by kids' hour, and sure enough, Tharissa and Tari showed up.  Tharissa turned out to be an excellent reader with a strong, expressive voice.  Tari struggled a little, but that struggle actually fit well in the script.  They liked the idea of working on the script.  They even wanted their own copies with their names printed on them.  We practiced for about 20 - 30 minutes before wandering on to something else.  I told them to come back the next day and we would drive to the radio station to record it.  I finished the script for Friday.  Sure enough, they came.  We practiced another 15 - 20 minutes and then went over to the radio station.

Susan Bucknell who does the radio news was super helpful.  She set them up at the microphones and directed them through several takes.  The girls were cute to watch.  Tharissa owned the whole experience, and I hope it might even inspire her in some way.  Tari's a little more timid, but she did a great job.  Susan had to edit and splice the recordings.  She was excited about the PSA and even wants us to do another one later on, but she's also very busy.  She told me she was going to stay late last night if she had to in order to finish it.  I hope she wasn't there too late, but sure enough, I had an email with the mp3 today.  I love how it turned out!  I played it for some folks in the office, and everyone seemed to enjoy it.  Our superintendent even sent it to the Alaska regional director, and he said she really liked it.  So, without further ado, here it is.  Hope you enjoy it.

Click here to listen to PSA

Tharissa and Tari at the radio station

Nome -- Summer 2011 Training

I think it might be safe to finally say that I've made it over the hump of my recent work frenzy.  I spent so many extra hours but successfully accomplished everything that needed to be done.  Education supply room beautifully organized and ready for use by seasonal employees...check.  Seasonal training...check.  First Junior Ranger program...check.  I'm more ahead at this point than I have been the last two summers, so I'm hoping that translates into a more regulated work schedule and more time to get out and about.  It's a short season, so just like the plants and ground squirrels, I want to take full advantage of it!

There was a fair bit of time scheduled into our seasonal training in Nome for sightseeing.  I also made it out to jog most of the mornings I was there, so I covered more of the town than I ever had before.  Here are some shots of this-n-that from this trip.  Most of these were taken on my iPod, so sorry for the crummy resolution.

Chukotka-Alaska Inc., 514 Lomen, Nome AK

One place you have to go when in Nome is to the Chukotka bookstore.  There are probably millions of things crammed into this little trailer.  It's so tight in there you have to suck in your gut before you turn around so you don't swipe something off of the shelf behind you!  The proprietor is somewhat illusive about his own story -- especially once he finds out you're a fed -- but he was either born in Russia or in AK to a Russian family.  Everything in the store is either Alaskan or Russian.  He has books, native crafts, furs, beads, collector pins...you name it.  The truly special thing about the store, though, is the proprietor himself.  From the time you walk in, he starts talking and stops when you walk out the door.  He'll find out who you are and what you're doing in Nome first.  If you're just looking around, he'll start talking about random things, the latest news or some story of his own.  As he sees what things you pick up or inspect, he'll start telling you stories about that item.  Everything has a story.  You can be absolutely quiet, and he'll fill in the whole space with stories.  It's a fun experience.  I've visited this place each time I've been to Nome.  He has acquired a new, more central and spacious location, so I wonder if the next visit will have as much charm.  I get the feeling, though, that if he has extra space, he'll just fill it up too.

Driftwood trees with cool burls

Nome is as treeless as Kotzebue, actually more so.  They do have a great supply of driftwood on the beaches, however.  This person who has a fish camp somewhere near Safety Sound east of Nome has found some driftwood trees with very cool burls and made a sort of lined driveway from them.  It probably looks better in person.

Those little brown dots are muskoxen

Itchy muskoxen

Again, I apologize for the poor resolution in these photos.  I kept forgetting to charge and/or carry my real camera, and the iPod doesn't have a great one.  Each time I've gone to Nome I've seen muskoxen.  They're fun to watch no matter how often you get to see them.  This time of year they're getting hot and trying to get rid of their bottom layer of hair -- called qiviut -- by rubbing on anything they can find.  Utility poles make good scratching posts!  It's fun to see them walk around.  The long guard hairs that make up their top coat sway back and forth as if they're wearing a skirt.  Beautiful creatures.  The calves are possibly the cutest baby animals ever.

Wooly lousewort

Touted as another ice age relic, the wooly lousewort.

Just a pretty view

What does Nome have that Kotzebue doesn't?  Among other things, topographic relief.  They have mountains nearby and three roads that take you up to about 60 (I think) miles out of town.  They don't connect you to any other place, but you can get closer to some country...places to hike and see things.  I like the quirkiness and native history of Kotz, but I'd love to have this landscape nearby.

Anvil Mountain

Training finished on Saturday, but we travelled on Bering Air which has no service between Kotzebue and Nome on the weekend, so Sunday was just a day off in Nome.  That afternoon, four of us on the Kotz staff went for a little hike up a hill just outside of town.  It was about 1000 feet up, and we covered a good horizontal distance, but I don't know how far.  It was a good little hike, but it was the perfect day for it.  Amazingly, just the day before, the temperature had reached around 80!  This day, however, was just slightly foggy and down in the 40's.

A view from the anvil

It was a foggy day, so not a great picture, but this is a view of Nome from the top of Anvil Mountain -- looking south towards the Bering Sea.

White Alice

These structures are part of the White Alice communications system set up in the 1950s to improve communication in Alaska, and they were integrated into the Cold War early warning system.  There's also a White Alice structure in Kotzebue (different than these -- I don't understand the specific function of them) that is in operation of some sorts.  It's locally called "the golf ball" because that's what it looks like from a distance.  These in Nome are, I believe, not used, and it looks like they may be starting to take them down.

White Alice

Sacred gravesite

Between the anvil and White Alice, I saw these grave markers.  I wondered why and how someone would be buried at the top of this hill...then I saw the fresh marker.  It says, "Hoppy the Frog."  I'm sure it was a sad, solemn ceremony for some child that took place at this site, but I had to smile.

Wood stave pipe

Back at the bottom of Anvil Mountain, I spotted this piece of pipe running across a stretch of ground.  I had never seen a pipe made like an ice cream freezer!  I briefly looked into it, and apparently there were quite a few places that used wood stave pipes in the early 1900's.  These would usually carry water, sometimes sewer.  What I don't know is if this pipe was carrying drinking water down to Nome or if it was part of some mining irrigation.  I thought it was pretty intriguing.