Wednesday, June 12, 2013
CSA, week 2
The good folks at Rosie Creek Farm are still doing what they can to provide us with what they are able to. I must confess, although I am not disappointed by the small quantities (which I anticipated due to our extremely late spring), I am disappointed by the presence of that purple vegetable that tastes like straw. I used to feed it to my bunnies. I guess I'll have to figure out how to make it edible for humans.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Ugh. Trophy Hunters
The Minor News today featured a human interest story about a Fairbanks man who likes to go to Africa and kill local animals and mount their heads on his wall back home. Much to my delight, most of the comments in response are of disgust:
AlaskaRaven says, "Disgusting and sad story."
Txak says, "Why is this a front page story? Disgusting. This person is nothing but a LOSER with money. I do hope karma comes down on him hard..."
Lou Skizas says, "Yeah... trophy hunting like this is kinda disgusting. Collecting a trophy from an animal you shot for food is one thing, intentionally seeking out trophies is just ridiculous."
A loooooot of comments mention karma.
Wordsmith says, "Wow, big man, killing endangered animals for sport. Hope it makes you feel proud and manly. The karma of those creatures is upon you now and will follow you all your life and beyond. So look at those mounted heads in your home every day and remember this."
It is no secret that many Alaskans hunt, but the ethics of responsible hunting here are the strongest I have seen anywhere. I can count on one hand the number of mounted animal heads I have seen in homes since moving to Alaska in 2007. Actually, I can count on one finger. I also don't eat CAFO meat myself, but as someone who does not thrive on a vegetarian diet, that leaves me to either locally raised domestic animal meat or hunted meat. (I don't really trust supposedly "humane" ranches that I have not personally laid eyes on.) So I have no problem whatsoever with hunting responsibly and humanely for food and using every scrap of the animal, down to the gristle and bones for dogs.
But hunting for sport... noooo. Nonononono I cannot abide it and could probably not even be friends with anyone who does, so poorly do I think it speaks of their character. I have treasured friends who are Democrats and Republicans, friends on both sides of the debates on abortion and the death penalty and immigration. I even have friends who are homophobes, which pushes my limits of tolerance. But to kill another creature just for the pleasure of killing it is something that I think speaks so poorly of that person's character that I cannot even be friends with them.
I've noticed something else. Even among responsible hunters, it's only some types of people who, after getting a moose, measure the width of its antler rack and count the number of points on its antlers. Sometimes they even call the press. "I got my biggest rack ever! 61 inches!" or whatever. It's quite another type who, upon killing a moose, says to himself, "Cool. Meat for the year." and does not give one flying crap how impressive the antlers look.
"This fall, he plans to return to Africa, this time with a plan to get a lioness and a hippopotamus."
Ugh. He's got a list of species he'd like to kill. Sigh.
AlaskaRaven says, "Disgusting and sad story."
Txak says, "Why is this a front page story? Disgusting. This person is nothing but a LOSER with money. I do hope karma comes down on him hard..."
Lou Skizas says, "Yeah... trophy hunting like this is kinda disgusting. Collecting a trophy from an animal you shot for food is one thing, intentionally seeking out trophies is just ridiculous."
A loooooot of comments mention karma.
Wordsmith says, "Wow, big man, killing endangered animals for sport. Hope it makes you feel proud and manly. The karma of those creatures is upon you now and will follow you all your life and beyond. So look at those mounted heads in your home every day and remember this."
It is no secret that many Alaskans hunt, but the ethics of responsible hunting here are the strongest I have seen anywhere. I can count on one hand the number of mounted animal heads I have seen in homes since moving to Alaska in 2007. Actually, I can count on one finger. I also don't eat CAFO meat myself, but as someone who does not thrive on a vegetarian diet, that leaves me to either locally raised domestic animal meat or hunted meat. (I don't really trust supposedly "humane" ranches that I have not personally laid eyes on.) So I have no problem whatsoever with hunting responsibly and humanely for food and using every scrap of the animal, down to the gristle and bones for dogs.
But hunting for sport... noooo. Nonononono I cannot abide it and could probably not even be friends with anyone who does, so poorly do I think it speaks of their character. I have treasured friends who are Democrats and Republicans, friends on both sides of the debates on abortion and the death penalty and immigration. I even have friends who are homophobes, which pushes my limits of tolerance. But to kill another creature just for the pleasure of killing it is something that I think speaks so poorly of that person's character that I cannot even be friends with them.
I've noticed something else. Even among responsible hunters, it's only some types of people who, after getting a moose, measure the width of its antler rack and count the number of points on its antlers. Sometimes they even call the press. "I got my biggest rack ever! 61 inches!" or whatever. It's quite another type who, upon killing a moose, says to himself, "Cool. Meat for the year." and does not give one flying crap how impressive the antlers look.
"This fall, he plans to return to Africa, this time with a plan to get a lioness and a hippopotamus."
Ugh. He's got a list of species he'd like to kill. Sigh.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Day hike on part of the Fairbanks to Circle Trail
On Saturday, I joined the Fairbanks Area Hiking Club to hike part of the Fairbanks to Circle Trail. Back in the mining days (late 19th to early 20th century), it was the only way to get in between Fairbanks and Circle, but today the trail is used by recreationalists. I had thought that I'd like to do the entire thing sometime, but now that I've seen it, I'm not sure it's worth my while. 150 miles is probably 10 tough days (assuming a slower walking speed with a full pack), and I'm not sure I'm about spending so much of my precious vacation time to walk and walk through scenery that looks much like that in my own neighborhood.
Anyway, here we are at the start (first two photos by KH). There were 20 humans and 12 dogs:
About half a mile in, I realized that Autumn was no longer with me. I figured that she was up ahead playing with the other dogs, so I picked up my pace to catch up to them, calling her name. At that point, the trail "sweeper" radioed ahead to the trail "leader" that a really concerned-looking husky had come running back. She had caught the dog by its collar and attempted to steer it ahead, but the dog twisted free, clearly determined to go back to the trail head. I guess she thought that Linden and I were there, and hadn't realized that we were up ahead! I cannot imagine what that conversation, limited by interspecies communication problems, must have gone like.
"Hey dog, where are you going? Your human is up ahead! Go THAT way!"
Let me go! My human is out at the car and I need to get back to her!
"Dog! I said, go THAT way!"
Please let me go! You must understand, I have an especial responsibility for my human; she's quite stupid, you see. She's all alone with my equally stupid sister, and I need to get back to them!
When Linden and I backtracked to the car, sure enough, she was there, and ran out to us, her relief obvious. Neither she nor Linden left a 3-meter radius of me for the remainder of the hike.
I heard that that's a common line of thinking with dogs--if they lose you on the trail, they'll go back to the car. It's like they say of humans in a crowd; you should establish a meeting place beforehand and go there, not wander around looking for each other, which makes it too easy to miss each other. The same logic applies in wilderness survival; if anyone knows where you are (which they should, because you never go anywhere without filing a trip plan with someone who remains in town, right???), then you are much more likely to survive if you find yourself a safe place to stay, build a fire and shelter, and stay there, instead of wandering around trying to find your way out yourself. Now that I think about it, almost every story I have heard of a "near-miss" or failed survival situation has the person dying when they try to walk out alone, or being rescued in place. I cannot recall often hearing of rescuers finding a corpse at a camp.
So dogs, they really are smart. Somewhere in the recesses of their doggy brains, which have co-evolved to cooperate with ours, they think, "If I can't find my human, I shall meet him at the car!" And that's what they do.
It was a really beautiful day, neither too hot nor too cold. Still a bit too warm for Autumn and Linden, though, who have baaaaaarely begun to shed their thick winter coats.
Cranberry flowers!
And blueberry flowers!
And dogwood!
Remains from mining are everywhere, from rusted equipment to piles of tailings:
We had a big group!
There was a HUGE fire in 2004 (over 1 million acres burned), and the aftermath is still visible:
YUMMY CHUMMY TIME!!!
Active dogs are the most well-behaved! It's ironic and sad that people who have dogs with temperament problems keep them tied in the yard, which only makes things worse! Doggies need exercise and love!
Labrador tea:
I have tons of this on my property, but this is more picturesque!
We arrive at the FE Gold Camp, which used to operate the old gold dredge. Until just a few years ago, it was a tourist spot, with a nice restaurant and gold mining tours, but now it's shut down, meeting the same fate as my neighborhood's Ester Gold Camp, which shut down its tours around the same time.
E goes beyond Leave No Trace and picks up trash as she goes, even when she has to stash it under her rain poncho!
Round II of snackies!!!
Phew! Are we pooped!
Anyway, here we are at the start (first two photos by KH). There were 20 humans and 12 dogs:
About half a mile in, I realized that Autumn was no longer with me. I figured that she was up ahead playing with the other dogs, so I picked up my pace to catch up to them, calling her name. At that point, the trail "sweeper" radioed ahead to the trail "leader" that a really concerned-looking husky had come running back. She had caught the dog by its collar and attempted to steer it ahead, but the dog twisted free, clearly determined to go back to the trail head. I guess she thought that Linden and I were there, and hadn't realized that we were up ahead! I cannot imagine what that conversation, limited by interspecies communication problems, must have gone like.
"Hey dog, where are you going? Your human is up ahead! Go THAT way!"
Let me go! My human is out at the car and I need to get back to her!
"Dog! I said, go THAT way!"
Please let me go! You must understand, I have an especial responsibility for my human; she's quite stupid, you see. She's all alone with my equally stupid sister, and I need to get back to them!
When Linden and I backtracked to the car, sure enough, she was there, and ran out to us, her relief obvious. Neither she nor Linden left a 3-meter radius of me for the remainder of the hike.
I heard that that's a common line of thinking with dogs--if they lose you on the trail, they'll go back to the car. It's like they say of humans in a crowd; you should establish a meeting place beforehand and go there, not wander around looking for each other, which makes it too easy to miss each other. The same logic applies in wilderness survival; if anyone knows where you are (which they should, because you never go anywhere without filing a trip plan with someone who remains in town, right???), then you are much more likely to survive if you find yourself a safe place to stay, build a fire and shelter, and stay there, instead of wandering around trying to find your way out yourself. Now that I think about it, almost every story I have heard of a "near-miss" or failed survival situation has the person dying when they try to walk out alone, or being rescued in place. I cannot recall often hearing of rescuers finding a corpse at a camp.
So dogs, they really are smart. Somewhere in the recesses of their doggy brains, which have co-evolved to cooperate with ours, they think, "If I can't find my human, I shall meet him at the car!" And that's what they do.
It was a really beautiful day, neither too hot nor too cold. Still a bit too warm for Autumn and Linden, though, who have baaaaaarely begun to shed their thick winter coats.
Cranberry flowers!
And blueberry flowers!
And dogwood!
Remains from mining are everywhere, from rusted equipment to piles of tailings:
We had a big group!
There was a HUGE fire in 2004 (over 1 million acres burned), and the aftermath is still visible:
YUMMY CHUMMY TIME!!!
Active dogs are the most well-behaved! It's ironic and sad that people who have dogs with temperament problems keep them tied in the yard, which only makes things worse! Doggies need exercise and love!
Labrador tea:
I have tons of this on my property, but this is more picturesque!
We arrive at the FE Gold Camp, which used to operate the old gold dredge. Until just a few years ago, it was a tourist spot, with a nice restaurant and gold mining tours, but now it's shut down, meeting the same fate as my neighborhood's Ester Gold Camp, which shut down its tours around the same time.
E goes beyond Leave No Trace and picks up trash as she goes, even when she has to stash it under her rain poncho!
Round II of snackies!!!
Phew! Are we pooped!
Friday, June 7, 2013
My CSA begins...
The good folks at Rosie Creek Farm informed us that the record-late spring and slow thaw will make for a lean beginning to the season. Nevertheless, I welcomed my greenhouse-grown salad greens and braising greens.
Lunch right now:
Yum!
Lunch right now:
Yum!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Well, here's a new one
People Outside generally characterize Alaska as more wild and rustic than it is, photographing bearded men in filthy Carhartts, yards piled high with junk, dirt roads that are sprinkled with potholes. None of these depictions are inaccurate, but they are definitely unbalanced. Today I've learned that Volkswagen chooses to portray Fairbanks like this:
Oooooohkay, Volkswagen. Clean, well-maintained streets; a charming, derelict-free downtown; clean, fresh-scrubbed young 'uns who sleep in makeup (?!?); giant deciduous trees; a lone caribou...? I'm told that the ad was shot in Vallejo, California, and I appreciate that they found a "Noble" street in Vallejo. I have to admit, I'm a little touched that for the first time I can recall, we are being portrayed as more civilized than we are!
Also, I sincerely hope that they left that sign, "Welcome to Fairbanks, Alaska" on some highway in California!
The Minor News, Alaska Dispatch, and the screamingly funny Mudflats also both offered commentary on this commercial:
Volkswagen takes a ride in the Land of the Midnight Somewhere Else
VW Takes Road Trip to Fake Fairbanks
Faux Fairbanks appears in new Volkswagen Beetle ad
Oooooohkay, Volkswagen. Clean, well-maintained streets; a charming, derelict-free downtown; clean, fresh-scrubbed young 'uns who sleep in makeup (?!?); giant deciduous trees; a lone caribou...? I'm told that the ad was shot in Vallejo, California, and I appreciate that they found a "Noble" street in Vallejo. I have to admit, I'm a little touched that for the first time I can recall, we are being portrayed as more civilized than we are!
Also, I sincerely hope that they left that sign, "Welcome to Fairbanks, Alaska" on some highway in California!
The Minor News, Alaska Dispatch, and the screamingly funny Mudflats also both offered commentary on this commercial:
Volkswagen takes a ride in the Land of the Midnight Somewhere Else
VW Takes Road Trip to Fake Fairbanks
Faux Fairbanks appears in new Volkswagen Beetle ad
Monday, June 3, 2013
Consolation photo
This is NOT Mademoiselle La Bumblebee, whom I'd been stalking with my camera for twenty minutes. But it posed nicely:
I want to photograph a bumblebee soooooo badly. Oh well.
Here are the girls digging up choice pieces of dirt and eating them:
Does anyone know why they do that? I buy them the best, most reputable kibble brand, and supplement with other stuff. Are they still short something that is found in dirt?
I want to photograph a bumblebee soooooo badly. Oh well.
Here are the girls digging up choice pieces of dirt and eating them:
Does anyone know why they do that? I buy them the best, most reputable kibble brand, and supplement with other stuff. Are they still short something that is found in dirt?
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