A Saturday in KIVLs.

We’ve been rained in pretty steadily for the last few days. More than a few, really.  Although I’ve not taken official account, I’m pretty sure that it’s rained at least for a portion of the day for more than the entire past week. A couple of our bouts of poor weather have gotten a little grumpy even. The ocean is making its way eerily close to the rocks. The wind is howling and the rain keeps things interesting. There have been breaks in the weather from time to time. Kids of all sizes come out in droves, all sporting the widest variety of water boots and waders. You’d think that the novelty of water would wear off while living on a narrow spit between a lagoon and the Arctic Ocean but every puddle has to be played in. After all, these are just normal kids.

This morning I tried to sleep in but my internal clock wouldn’t let me get past 6:30 a.m. without rolling over and checking on things. Outside I could here a heavy rain pelting the trailer house. The sound of foul weather made it easier for me to stay tucked under the covers and drift back to sleep.

By mid-morning the rain had stopped and although it was overcast and chilly, at least it wasn’t unbearable anymore. At about noon, I headed out for a walk. My new flannel is thick and cozy but outside, the northwest wind ripped right through it. As I rounded the north end of the village on my usual route I spotted another camera crew in the midst of a groundbreaking interview with a local. I stopped and gawked as 2 white women and a white cameraman got the footage they came here for. I didn’t feel awkward staring for a minute. I like to know what’s happening on the Rock as much as the next guy. It’s still odd for me to see other Naluagmiu.

I wrapped up my walk and eventually made some headway in my classroom.  Copies were made and partial lesson plans drawn. But by about 2 o’clock I needed to get outside again. I hunted down Leah and easily convinced her that today would be a good day to work outside and wrap up our fencing project for her hounds.

Facebook blew up the other day with some cracked-up idea of a National Dog Day. I miss my hounds, Gunner and Raider, almost as much as I miss my kids. Here on the Rock I’m comforted by Leah’s pups, Trudy and Bowser. These boys are growing fast and needed a “run” to stretch out and be off the leash. With the crazy amount of village dogs around here it’s just not very feasible nor is it safe to unleash the St. Bernard and Pyrenees. And so today I added the top panel to their makeshift kennel. I shored up a few bolts here and there and am really proud of the way it turned out. The dogs love being able to run around, even if it is just between the 2 trailers.

Buried, solid, w/ a locked gate... not too shabby- if I don't say so myself. 

While working in the “backyard” I became increasingly annoyed with a problem I noticed weeks ago. There is a collection bin for trash that is used by all of us in Teacher Housing. The bin has been overflowing since before I got here. There’s trash spilling out on to the ground, which isn’t actually that much out of the norm for Kivalina but nonetheless, it bothered me. The school has a maintenance worker whose job it is to collect and take care of trash. So far, he’s derelict in his duties. So I mentioned to Leah that when she returned the toolbox to Tom (Zoe’s Husband), she should ask if we could use the school four-wheeler and trailer to make a run to the dump.

If I knew it was going to be that easy, I would have asked a long time ago. Jon, Leah and I each headed in to our trailers to fetch heavier clothing for the “open road”. Our Adventurous Saturday was about to get more exciting.

I’m glad I wore gloves. The trash was ripe. We filled the trailer in no time and had barely scratched the surface of emptying the receptacle. None of us had been past the cemetery and that’s really, only about halfway down the runway. The dump is another half a mile north, past the end of the runway. I’m not sure what I expected of the Dump on Kivalina. I’ve been to the dump in the lower 48 before. I even remember making runs to dump fish guts when Grandma owned the resort. For some reason though, I was caught off guard when the Kivils Dump came in to sight.

There were pop cans everywhere. Paper trash blowing in the wind. Seagulls by the hundreds. A crow the size of a small Cessna. We passed a dead dog and I’m almost positive that it had a gunshot wound. There were diapers. Shoes. Potatoes. – I mean, it was the dumpiest dump I can recall. Up ahead we spotted a fire - which was good news and meant that we wouldn’t have to start our own if we could get upwind of it and add our collection to the smoldering pile of discarded waste.

Not as bad as burning sh*tters in Kuwait - but close.

It took us two overflowing trips to empty the bin at Teacher Housing. I’m glad my colleagues were such great sports and kept a positive attitude through an otherwise uncomfortable situation. We made the most of our afternoon adventure and laughed exponentially more than we complained.
I mean, this is Kivalina. What is there to be upset about?

Jon & Leah dumping the trailer juice.

After pulling out of the dump the three of us decided to take a little unauthorized jaunt to the north. We actually hoped to make it to the North Channel but our gas supply ended up cutting our run short but not before we got a little more excitement.

With Jon and Leah riding sidesaddle on the back rack and me at the helm, we were clipping along the beach at a pretty steady pace when I started to notice tracks in the sand. I kept the throttle pinned but slowly wove back and forth trying to check the nature of the tracks while still maintaining speed. Our heavy rain from this morning hadn’t touched these tracks…they were fresh.

BEAR TRAX!!!!!

Although we never caught up to him, I was glad I earlier decided to uncase my firearms and holster my Smith & Wesson. After seeing the size of those footprints in the sand, I won’t go to the dump without one.

Probably just enough to piss off a bear.