More pictures

 The Pool where the "Hot Spring" fills every day.  It is usually at about 105 at all times.

 The moon at about 11pm coming back from the Hot Spring one evening last week.

 From the road looking towards the old Hot Spring Hotel.

 Sunset at 1145pm.

 Along the road headed to the Hot Spring. 

 Along the road away from the Hot Spring.

 The front entrance of Central Corner.

Our Gas station! 

Post office quote!

This was last weeks quote, and the week before was just a simple Aloha!  The Post Master was on vacation in Hawaii.  Must of been nice.  Although we have had wonderful spring weather here in Central Alaska.  I don't think truer woods have been said.  Sometimes we need to mind our speech!

Spring has sprung!

My view from where I work.  Just yesterday there were no buds on the trees and today WOW.  What green color and the sun shining so bright along with the blue sky!  What an incredible sight to behold!  Amazing!

Crooked Creek

 The log cabin circa 1985.  No electricity except when the generator is on.  Great front porch which over looks Crooked Creek

 Crooked Creek

 Jump off.  This patch of ground would be where people traveling by boat that wanted to visit the hot springs would "Jump off " the boat and then wade across to the other side and walk a trail to the hot spring.  Mind you I am guessing, but the hot spring is at least 10 miles away if not more from this location.  Two of her pups.  One in the water and one that is the speed demon. 

 Another view of Crooked creek.

 Birch Creek, which happens to be a faster flowing creek.  Much wider and is on the other side of the property.

 Looking down Birch creek the other way.

 The view from the front porch of the cabin.

 Another view from the front porch and the original cabin that was on the property.  It is slowly sliding down into the creek.

My tour guides son's part wolf dog named Indy.  

Another site I visited was my tour guides home and property.  Her home sits on two different creeks, Crooked Creek, and Birch Creek.  She built an  amazing log cabin in 1985 and has a wonderful view.

Circle Hot Springs

 The Hot Spring  The water comes in in that far corner by what looks like a little shed. 

 This is a picture looking out from the Hotel at different buildings that I guess used to have various shops and crafts available. 

 The front entrance to the Hotel.  To the right was a little saloon that used to be open.

The front entrance to the Hotel.  To the right was a little saloon that used to be open.


On my day off yesterday along with making it to the end of the road I had the opportunity to visit the old Circle Hot Springs and Hotel.  It is for sale, but is major disrepair.  The Hot Springs itself is in the shape of a pool and is used by the locals, but closed to all others.  It is year around about 101-108 degrees. 

Made it to the end of the road!

 Part of the Yukon River.  As you can see the ice broke up and there are still remnants of it along with the debris that was caught up when the river froze over. 

 Some of the debris left behind after the ice broke up.

An old fishing wheel used on the river.

I had the opportunity to go to the end of the road yesterday. Steese Hwy ends in the town of Circle, dead ending into the Yukon River.  The road is long, winding, and gravel.  It is only about 30 miles, but it takes a good hour to get there.  In 2004, there had been a fire that devastated parts of the land on the way to Circle.  Still many of the trees are bare and look like toothpicks sticking out of the ground. On the way back I had the privilege to see a bear.  Upon first sight as we were in a car on the road and it was in the distance I thought it was a dog.  As we got closer I realized it was just a bear running down the road.  Since my tour guide had her puppies in the car they of course began to bark and the bear took off down the hill.  It was brown or cinnamon in color, so it may have been a grizzly bear.  I was unable to get a picture of it.  Here are the pictures I did take on this trip.  Enjoy.  

Birds chirping

I am sitting in my room and it is 1130 P.M.  Listening to actual birds chirping.  It seems strange to hear such a thing this late at night.  I guess they are just as confused by the daylight as my body seems to be.  I had a friend tell me that because of the longer daylight hours that our bodies surge with energy through the day light.  I guess my uncle was right, I can sleep when I'm dead.  I sure do find it difficult going to sleep and staying asleep.

Firey Sunset

This was the sunset on May 15th at 11pm.  It looks like the sky is on fire!  Some of the sunsets have just been awesome.  As you can see we still have no leaves on the trees or green grass.  The locals say when it does happen it will happen quick!  Like one day its is brown and bare and the next its  green and lush! 

Awesome Sunset Picture

This was the sunset on 5/11/2012  at 1045pm.  Just amazing how late it is in the evening for the sun to be setting.  I am still getting used to the late sunsets and early sun rises.  It seems it never truly gets dark in between. 

Dang Internet

Well once again the internet has been a issue.  Now it has been 5 days since I have last posted, and have see some beautiful sunsets at 1030pm.  I will share them with you all soon.  Once I get the pictures emailed to myself.  Ha..  Anyways, I still hope everyone is enjoying reading as I can post.  Life in Central is just beginning to pick up.  More miners arrive every day!  And the price of gold drops a little more every day.  I guess we shall see who wins that battle.  Good night everyone.  Pictures to follow if I can keep the internet on my side for the next couple of days!

This weeks Post Office quote.

Truer words have never been printed.

America

It's funny the mind of an Alaskan.  When speaking of the "lower 48", they always refer to it as America.  As if they are not a state within "America".  Alaska is its own country to some of these guys.  When I tell them I'm from Texas, I always get the comment made that, " you know Texas would be the third largest state if they cut Alaska in half".  One thing about Alaskans, they are proud of their state, or country if they were to have it their way.

My first wild life picture

On my walk to the Post Office a Grouse was walking in the other direction.  The locals say it good eating!  Earlier in the week I actually saw two grouse chasing each other in the restaurant parking lot.  

Tipping

I am very appreciative of any tips I receive.  It is the thought and practice of some that if they have extra money it is not for a tip, but yet another "drink", but for others it is their thought that if they don't have enough for a tip that they should not drink.  JB, whom I spoke of earlier, says that his father taught him that if he didn't have enough "fun tickets" to leave a tip then he should not drink!  Either way I still treat everyone the same even if they leave a tip or not.

Duck Farts

The shot drink of choice in the bar is a mixture called Duck Farts.  It is 1/3 shot of Kahlua, then carefully down the inside of the shot glass you pour Caroline s Irish (like Bailey's) another 1/3 of the glass and then top it off with Crown Royal. It looks layered in the shot glass.  So one of the regulars we shall call JH, says ducks can't fart!  They don't have a butt hole. If they did they would sink because they would not then be water tight!

Fun Tickets

One of the regular customers, who happens to live next door, comes in everyday for breakfast and either lunch or dinner and of course drinks.  We shall call him JB.  JB loves to drink Crown on the rocks.  He will only drink as long as he has enough "Fun Tickets".  Fun tickets being cash.  He is, in his words, "the only sane one in town!".  Apparently, he is the local apothecary and dispenses the "happy" pills to the locals and makes sure they are taking their "happy pills".  This summer he says he is going to hang his shingle out at his house to do some counseling of the towns people.  This is just one of the many characters that I serve on a daily basis! 

Snow on the first day of May

 The view from outside my building.

 The building I live in.

 Untouched snow among the birch trees!

 Snowy lane.

 Old mining equipment covered in snow.

 The road to Fairbanks.

1045 pm and still light enough outside for a walk to the Post Office

This weeks Post Office Quote

This weeks quote posted in the Post Office in Central Alaska.  Whomever posts them has a pretty good perspective on life!  May 1, 2012.

About the Sam McGee poem

A man, Captain Jd, came into the bar one day and shared with me this poem that he recited from memory.  The next day he returned to the bar and gave me a copy of a cd that he had made with various poems from Robert Service that he recited to music and also gave a little history.  Very interesting.

Re-posting of Sam McGee.

Poem: The Cremation of Sam McGee

(an abnormal way of getting warm in the freezing conditions of a Canadian winter as expressed by Robert Service)

The Cremation of Sam McGee

by Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

—Word Info image © ALL rights reserved.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;

Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.

—Word Info image © ALL rights reserved.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

Rain, rain, and more rain

It continues to rain today which the locals say could be bad.  Since the snow is just melting the ground is saturated which if the rain continues could cause flooding.  We definitely have pooling in the area.

Sweet rain

This afternoon it rained a little bit, and when I walked out the door this afternoon the air smelled refreshed and renewed.  Such a different smell from Texas or Indiana away from the city, industry, pollution etc.  The smell is sweet and inviting.  If I had been off I probably would of taken a walk in it as it was not a hard rain.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

The following is a poem recited to me by one of the summer residents of Central Alaska.  Captain JD.  In all it takes 8 minutes to recite this poem he shared with me.  The day after his recitation of this poem he brought me a cd that he had made with various other poems of Robert Service where he is the narrator. I tell you there are some characters here.  Hope you all enjoy the poem.  Its quite interesting.  

Poem: The Cremation of Sam McGee

(an abnormal way of getting warm in the freezing conditions of a Canadian winter as expressed by Robert Service)

The Cremation of Sam McGee

by Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

—Word Info image © ALL rights reserved.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;

Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.

—Word Info image © ALL rights reserved.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.