Settling into mosquito alley...

5.28.05
Motherlode Cabin, Camp denali

My ankles are itchy from mosquito bites, the back of my neck is sunburned, and I’ve got a bit of a headache, and it’s 10:39 pm and looks like afternoon right now. The are a small network of ridges just in front of my cabin in the forefront of the view, a slice of Arctic tundra, with shrubby plants and the occasional lone spruce, growth stunted by the weather... AND a hint of a rainbow cresting just above this first horizon. The backdrop of the view has clouds sitting at about 10,000 ft. the afternoon light reflecting off the west ends of the plumes, darkness on the bottoms, giving a unique perception of their depth and grandeur. Sitting underneath the clouds are the bottom slopes of the Alaska range, snow and glacier and rock, a different world just twenty miles away. This view changes everyday, it could stay the same, but still wouldn’t get old.
Hard to believe a week has gone by already, time truly is relative, and perception changes as we adjust to the daylight, new work schedule, and life in this little wild undeveloped slice of Alaska. The insular sense of this community and ecosystem erodes the attachment to country, state as other distinctions become more important. All staff have finally arrived at camp, and we’re in full preparation mode for guests to arrive, while at the same time catching up with friends from last summer and acquainting ourselves with new faces. The specialness of the community is apparent in witnessing the connections and friendships that are built here and last over the winter. We seem to be relating to each other as if we just left a couple of weeks ago. Also the conflicts and frustration that come hand in hand with those deep connections! I have the pleasure this summer of sharing a cabin with Luc, a returning naturalist from Gaspe, Quebec whose sense of humor, and quirky nature has combined well with my personality to give our cabin a relaxed and easy feel. We live one of the uppermost cabins here at camp, out of the way, with a homey porch, and a little wood stove.
Us old hands in the kitchen has been busy getting our kitchen ready to go for guests, feeding staff delectable meals, and training a new fleet of cooks. Right now, honestly it’s not such interesting stuff, as we’ve haven’t reached the stage of planning our menus and getting down to the fun and inspiring cooking. The pleasantness of just being here, and enjoying the natural setting is so joyfully overwhelming my senses that cooking is secondary. Today was my first day off since arriving, and I hooked up with four other staff on a day off to hike the ridge just southeast of camp, and inspiring six hour hike, mostly off trail. As is typical of Denali hikes, we navigated several drainages, thick brush, swampy tundra and a plethora of newly hatched mosquitolings eager to have their first meal. We combined climbing and contouring the features to eventually gain access to our desired peak, some 1200 ft. above camp, where we lunched atop a small promontory above a patch of snow destined to soon melt. The views were spectacular as the Alaska range launched out of the tundra to the south. The view of Camp Denali was a great perspective of it’s position just tucked in the hillside, just a spattering of buildings dwarfed by the immensity of mountains, valleys and rivers which seem endless here. Our hike down back to Camp was enjoyable, though a bit rushed as the desire to flee from the bugs spurred us on to reach Camp, the showers, and the late afternoon nap providing that vital bridge of time to reach dinner.
That’s all done and I’m in bed, dinner was super, and tomorrow it will be my turn to conjure up the flavors for the evening repast, so therefore I must acquire the necessary rest. So adieu, your friend ,
Kenny