Snowmachine Outing

 Hey Tribe,

Ever spearfished for pike through the ice?  Until this past weekend, I never had and I'm not sure I can say I have yet.

In the wee hours of the morning, our friends and TheFather and I all met in a dark, snow-filled parking lot and sleepily unloaded snowmachines from trailers and loaded sleds with gear and passengers.  Our destination: a remote frozen lake 17 miles away, accessible only by snowmachine or airplane.  Our mission: spearfish for pike.

But first, we have to fix a broken pull-start.

It took our group roughly an hour to complete the journey.

Perhaps it could have taken less time, but the bumps along the trail caused us to occasionally stop to re-adjust loads.

There's a small human somewhere in that load of gear.

We also re-adjusted passengers.

The kids mutinied and made their dad ride in the sled. 

The sunrise wasn't too bad though.

Our primary objective of spearfishing was hindered by our inexperience, though one pike was indeed speared, and our group ended up catching 9 of our 10 pike via tiny jigging poles brought along as an afterthought.  We pondered methods for improving our spearfishing capabilities while roasting hot dogs over a slightly too smoky bonfire that burned down into the snow, but didn't make much of an impact on the 3 foot thick ice.

TheFavoriteGirl showing off her catch.

In the late afternoon, our return journey was going well and uneventful, until TheFather's snowmachine suddenly lost power and died right in the middle of the trail.  We sat, momentarily locked in motionless silence as our friends left us in their snowdust and became small dots on the horizon.  Then, we checked on the mechanical things that are checked in such cases, but could not persuade the old Tundra to cough back to life.  Happily, luckily, by some miracle, I had cell reception and was able to summon our group back for a rescue mission.

Broken Tundra gets a ride home on top of a sled as part of our "sled train" full of gear and people.

It was a slow journey home.  To make things more interesting, daylight faded quickly and chunky snowflakes began to fall and obscure our vision.  Machines were overloaded with gear and people and several shuttle trips were required to get everyone and everything back to the once again dark parking lot.  But we made it.  Plans for next year's trip are already in the works, because these people are determined to spear themselves some pike.

Avalanche Certification

 Hey Tribe,

Allow me to introduce you to a certified Avalanche SAR dog: Fly.

Superhero pose

Yep, this weekend our brave girl confidently loaded into the snowmachine sled and was hauled up the mountain to begin her search for simulated avalanche victims.

Ready to begin!

After being given her search command, Fly flew across the snow and pinpointed the location of a human hiding deep under the snow's surface in a small cave; after I marked the location, Fly was off running up the slope and out of sight before I could even attempt to keep up with her.  When I did manage to glimpse her again, she was eagerly searching and moving her way across the jumbled snow before she stopped in the middle of seemingly nowhere and told me she'd located another human under the snow.

Eyes on the prize - goggles cut snow glare, block blowing snow crystals, and just look cool.

Here is a low image quality video of Fly making her second find.  Love her happy face as she peeks in to see the person!

After the safety and support volunteers had dug the "victims" out from their snowy depths, Fly and I were congratulated on passing the evaluation in just 6 minutes!  We then loaded back into the awaiting snowmachine sled and zoomed back down the mountain so the next K9 team could take their turn.

I ended up relieving one of the volunteers and was hidden in a snow cave for the last K9 team.  It is a strange feeling to be buried under the snow and I'd have to say I'm not a fan of the experience, but we do it for the team and we do it so that our efforts may one day help bring a loved one home.

My view: before being buried

My view: while being buried

My view: after Team Bandit made the find

This is Fly's third discipline of certification: she is already certified to be deployed for Scent Specific Wilderness Area live find searches, as well as Human Remains detection.  However, just because we passed our evaluations and are certified, that doesn't mean our training and practice are complete - no, we will continue to hone our skills and practice, practice, practice, because learning and improving should never cease.  

Fly poses with the gear we use for avalanche work - beacon, shovel, and probe not visible.

There is a misconception that to become an Avalanche dog, one just signs up for a class and then takes a test at the class' completion and, voilà, you have an Avy Dog, so I just want to clarify that this is not how it works, at least not here in Alaska.  To be a deployable SAR dog unit, Fly and I are members of a SAR team with other dog handlers and members.  We train together weekly (often twice a week).  We take classes (paid for out of pocket) about first aid, human behavior, wilderness survival, weather, navigation, crime scene preservation, disaster preparation and building structures, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  We buy our own gear (which is expensive).  When there is need for our services, we are deployed solely through our Alaska State Troopers - we can't just go rogue and jump on missions whenever we feel like it - laws and liability come into play here.  Search and Rescue work is a lifestyle, not just a title to be earned for a piece of paper to frame for your wall, a brag post for your social media, or a feather for your cap (though with all the work we put into it, those things are nice, I admit).  So, before you start searching the internet for the closest "sar training class," understand that is not really how it works, and be honest with your desires, ability, time, and truthfully your pocketbook.  

My teammates packing up gear after 7 hours of SAR work today.

Okay, I didn't intend to throw a wet blanket on this celebration post, but now you can better appreciate how much time and energy went into this certification and why I am so proud of our Fly girl!

Spring Sunshine

 Hey Tribe,

That first day of Spring feeling is wonderful, isn't it?!

Except this is Alaska and it is most definitely still winter here.

Fly and I were deployed for a SAR mission this past weekend and we absorbed copious amounts of vitamin D while braving negative temperatures.

The snow here is still about 3-3.5 feet deep and Fly had her work cut out for her while swimming through the powder.

Swimming is an accurate description, because she somehow managed to remain relatively afloat on the surface of the snow, while our K9 teammate floundered and sunk in the deep snow like he had an anchor tied to his tail.

Why is this?  Our Lab, Shepherd, and Aussie friends all seem to drown in the snowy depths; weight doesn't appear to be a factor, since Fly weighs more than an Aussie.  I wonder if it has to do with body shape and fur structure?  Fly is shaped a bit like a tugboat or icebreaker ship that is designed to pop up out of the water and ice and her double layered fur, which easily repels snow and ice, maybe provides loft in more ways than one.  I am extremely curious about why/how Fly seems to cruise snow better than other breeds; being a breed of nordic origin, she is literally born for snow.

Mentally and physically tired though after her hard work.

We were able to stop off and do some sightseeing on our drive home.  Alaskan volcanoes sure are majestic as they sleep, aren't they?

Closer towards home we were stopped for road construction, but the view and that Spring sunshine made it tolerable.

Rex Turns Two

 Hey Tribe,

My baby boy is 2 years old today!

Rex had quite the year last year:

He worked on his impulse control in all settings to become Farm Dog Certified titled and earned his Canine Good Citizen title.

Rex learned new tricks during our time in quarantine and collected a Trick Dog Novice title.

I got a bit of road rash and a black eye and Rex learned to not suddenly run full speed when on a leash.

He became a brand ambassador and model.

Rex made friends who tolerate his pervasive puppy craziness, including SAR teammate, K9 Sally (his Sal Pal), and our new Icelandic fillies, Frelsi and Soley, who romp and stomp with our joyful boy.

He was plagued with panosteitis, poor guy, and was super sad to not be able to do a lot of fun activities in early summer. 

But we made up for it with adventures when he was feeling better.

Despite a lot of time off because of the pano, Rex made nice SAR progress and developed a solid final response for when he finds the scent source he is searching for; he officially became part of the team last month.

Rex showed us that he loves to run and chase and is going to excel in lure coursing sports.  We discovered this in late summer, so he only got to compete once before the season ended, but he's off to a good start!  He is an amazing athlete and we had such fun touring around Alaska with the kickbike.

He also loves that sled dog life!

I can tell his body is maturing, though his brain and personality sure aren't: he is widening and broadening in the chest and head and that thick fur hides some serious muscle.  He is keeping his tail curled more often than not now too!

Lastly, Rex has thoroughly loved all things snow - snow is his greatest delight!

We had a great year together.

For his birthday this year, Rex got a new Lamby: he LOVES his Lamby and will squeak it endlessly until the squeakers die and then he rips a hole in it and enjoys pulling out all the stuffing.  He brings me his Lamby to toss into the air for him to catch and we play tug with it and when he is done playing, he puts it in my lap for safe keeping.

Happy 2nd birthday, Armando Salazar Da Villa Saloia, the Pirate King, my sweet baby boy, Rexy.  We love you!

Hoar Frost

Hey Tribe,

Clear skies in the winter means cold weather here in Alaska and with that comes hoar frost - or "horror" frost as I thought it was called when I was a child, named for how horribly cold it is when this type of large frost forms.  Sunshine is a precious commodity coming out of winter's deep darkness and these cold, clear days cause Alaskans to bundle up and bask in the light - even if it isn't warm.  Hoar frost is a magical consolation prize for venturing outside into negative temps and the KBDs and I were richly rewarded this past week.

Several inches of fresh snow caused the kicksled to bog down a bit on the trail we used to access the Knik arm, but we worked up a sweat and journeyed through the snow-laden woods out to open flatland to look at the ice floes.

Have you ever gasped aloud when seeing an unexpectedly beautiful sight? I did when I gazed across the expanse at the majestic Chugach mountains with a cloudy scarf swaddling their treeline and saw the fog rolling up from the open water channels.

It was stunning.

The KBDs had a good frolic while I stood there gaping at the scenery trying to keep my fingers and my cell phone warm as I took dozens of photos.

At the beep of their collars, the dogs ran back to me and posed for some glamor shots before dashing into the frost laden grass and reeds to hunt for mice.  Little mouse prints covered one particular section and I agree that it seems a nice place to have a home if I were a mouse.  

The Karelian hunters were unsuccessful, as far as I know, so I gave both dogs treats for again coming to me when I called them and we clipped back into the kicksled for our return journey.

One day soon we will return to this place of frosty beauty to spend the entire day luxuriating in the sunshine and savoring the frost before wind and warm temperatures whisk it into Spring.