Northern Light Legacy

The definition of "wilderness"

2008-08-23T04:30:00.001-07:00

Dispatch #1 from an East Bay Traffic Jam
by Heather E Meader-McCausland
(reprinted from www.hmmphotographs.com '07)

The other day, in Emeryville CA, I found myself at one of those outdoor malls. There were lots of stores of the usual sort, Gap, Banana Republic, Barnes and Noble, Ikea, to name a few- not to mention a huge movie theater (I think it has around 14 screens), and then there were several big hotels conveniently placed across the street.

What caught my attention however, while I sat in rush hour traffic, were the two street signs: Ohlone Way (the street leading to the mall) and Shellmound (where the hotels were sitting). When I commented about the signs, my sister explained that actually, that area was/is an Ohlone shellmound, which became a toxic industrial sight, and then still later sprouted hotels and stores and movies theaters. But not until the Ohlone Indians were, for the most part, eradicated during the horrors of the European conquest of California.

I have discovered recently that, if you are not in a fit of road rage, you can ponder many things while inching along the street in a car. In my case I pondered the terms and prevailing definitions of ‘environmentalist’ and ‘wilderness’. I thought about forgotten people, disappearing ways of life and about bays and marsh lands, birds and the California grizzlies. I also thought about parks and what it has meant to fight to preserve the land and wildlife of the arctic.

I have always believed that the fight to keep the arctic wild is as much about the people that live there and their survival as anything. Many people seem to forget that 'wilderness', as we know it, has always included people. Unfortunately now, with all the emphasis on wilderness protection, the people in the surrounding villages have often been forgotten – not seen by the dominant culture as important as caribou and wolves.

In this day and age I believe that parks are very important. I want the “wilderness” – the mountains, the caribou, grizzly’s, wolves and the like to have a bit of breathing room without the negative impacts of humans – we are currently impacting enough.

But when I talk about preserving the wilderness I am not just talking about parks and wildlife I am also talking about the people of this region, whose survival is just as important to me as the land and wildlife.

I do not spend much time in the surrounding villages. My arctic home is about 60 miles without roads from the nearest ones. In the Brooks Range, however, that means we’re neighbors. I’m not going to pretend to know the detailed ins and outs of the nearest villages. However, I will say that for the most part things haven’t been easy, young people are leaving, elders are passing away and cultural and economic viability is difficult at best. The simple fact is these villages are a part of this wild landscape and therefore their survival should be an important factor in the “environmental fight to save the arctic wilderness”. Along with the mountains, wolves, caribou and grizzlies the people of the arctic deserve just as much of a chance, and just as much support to survive and thrive in their homes, in their villages and in the ‘wilderness’. As the Outside begins to turn their attention towards the arctic – towards oil drilling, polar bears and global warming – I hope that it will break out of history’s well warn footsteps and begin to see all the different parts of the ecosystem that has been threatened and damaged by the dominant culture’s arrogance.

• To learn more about the Ohlone people whom have streets named after them but are still not recognized as a official federal tribe, see http://www.muwekma.org
• To learn about the forced relocation of the Inuit people in Canada check out “The Long Exile” by Melanie McGrath . This book is incredibly powerful and well written.
• To learn about many issues in regards to Alaska in general, and specifically the native people of Alaska, check out the University of Fairbanks Project Jukebox where you can listen to the oral histories. It is an amazing project. http://uaf-db.uaf.edu/Jukebox/PJWeb/pjhome.htm

How To Keep Track Of Us!

2008-08-22T20:35:00.000-07:00

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Some unique and fascinating facts about Alaska

2008-08-19T18:26:00.000-07:00

The News:
A radio news blip the other day: An armed man on an ATV tried to highjack a car on Giest Road at a red light. The armed man remains at large, he escaped on his ATV after a high speed chase by police.

Community Bulletin on radio: For Sale: One piano, several sled dogs, Ithaca 10 gauge, M1 Grand Springfield. 30.06 and 450 rounds of ammunition. All great condition, call for price.

The Weather:
It’s a fact: it gets so cold in the winter that your tires freeze flat, and it takes a couple of miles of driving to get them round again.*

It’s also a fact that in this last month I have not seen a single car alarm remotely activated (or activated at all for that matter), but I have seen many cars remotely started. It’s a bit un-nerving at first to be talking to a friend and suddenly have the engine of the car next to you rev with no driver in sight. I guess at -40 degrees I’d want my car started and nice and cozy before I got out of the office too.

The Outdoors, People and Animals:
An Alaskan coast guard survey concluded that 50% of man overboard accidents resulted from the victim trying to relieve himself over the side of the vessel. *

Researchers on the northern tundra reported up to 9,000 mosquito bites per minute. At that rate a person would lose half of her blood supply in 2 hours!* (And yes, I live on the Northern Tundra - but I aint never seen them THAT bad).*

As of 2006 Anchorage police and wildlife officials got more annual calls concerning problem moose and bears then they did for hold-ups, bomb scares, liquor violations, escaped criminals, subjects resisting arrest, prostitution and 'illegal aliens' COMBINED! *

The Visitors:
The Anchorage visitor bureau and my friends in Juneau swear that numerous tourists step off the cruise ships and ask “What’s the elevation here?”*

The banker who switched over my account swore that in the summer he gets far too many people from the lower 48 who come into the bank to “cash in US money for Alaska money”.

The Anchorage Convention and visitors bureau reports these actual inquiries from tourists: “How much does Mount McKinley weigh?’ and “When do you turn on the Northern Lights?”*

A Denali Park Ranger reported leading a hike to the top of a small mountain in an area where there were no trails. An apprehensive tourist asked: “If there are no trails, how will we know when we get to the top?”*

The People, Culture and Gov‘t:
In 2006 Alaskans ranked number one in high school degrees, number one in ownership of Harley Davidson motorcycles, number one in the consumption of ice cream and the 2nd highest per capita consumers of Spam in the Nation.*

There is a town in Alaska (to remain unanimous) known for hosting an annual Fourth of July marksmanship match, where contestants fire from within an National Park, across an active airway runway, and across a navigable river. The winners in 2005 were the National Park Ranger and the Tribal Peace Officer.*

(this photo was taken along a main road, acouple hundred yards later it BEGIN)

Snowmobilers breaking trail for the Iditarod Trail Dog Race discovered that if they wired a can of SPAM to their exhaust manifold, they had a perfect hot meal in 50 miles.*

Talkeetna has a festival called Moose Dropping Festival with games and contests that center around the uses of dried moose droppings.*

Environmentalists (presumably in the lower 48) heard about the festival and demanded more information: “How high are the moose taken before they are dropped.” They were prepared to sue.**

Alaska is known for growing the largest Cabbages. The last record was set in 2000 with a cabbage that weighed 105.6 pounds!*

Since 1991 (originally started as a joke) Nome residents take their old x-mas trees and “plant” them in holes in the ice behind Fat Freddies restraunt. In 2006 there were 70 tree’s in the “forest” which also attracted many animals including pink wooden pigs, plywood walruses and plastic flamingoes.*

At Fort Yukon’s Spring Carnival - to be crowned Queen you need to participate in the usual talent show, questions, fancy gowns AND build a fire to melt snow, run in snow shoes and skin a rabbit.**

An Alaskan bank once offered new customers an Iditarod commemorative Smith & Wesson .44-caliber revolver.**

In 1974 Mount Edgecumbe, a massive volcano near Sitka Alaska, started spewing black smoke, the Tsunami alarms were sounded and people were in a near panic when one of the prominent businessmen admitted that he had hired helicopters to drop tires into the Volcano and then set them on fire as an April Fools joke.**

The story goes that Chicken, Alaska was named by a group of miners that found it a great place to hunt Ptarmigan (sorta like wild chickens, sorta) - but they couldn’t spell it so they named it the closest thing the could think of.**

**Moose Droppings and other Crimes Against Nature - Tom Brennan
* The Alaska Almanac 30th Anniversary Edition

The Moose, the Motorcycle and the Tourist

2008-08-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

So, last night as I was coming home from line dancing at the local bar - I was in a damn fine mood, blasting country music and day dreaming about tearin’ up the floor some Friday night… Line dancing has much of the same foot work as Irish and Scottish step dancing (that’s where it originates), and since it’s been far too many years that my messed up ankle has kept me from fancy Irish footwork – I was more than high
on life at 10 pm at night –driving home from the bar in the light of the Alaskan summer night.

But I was not so blissed out that I didn’t notice the car pulled over on the WRONG side of the road. As I cruised slowly by the car I also noticed that a cow and calf were chomping away at the roadside shrubbery. Here in Alaska, by the way, a “cow” is a female moose.

NOW, first a lesson in Alaskan wildlife viewing: On the list of most dangerous animals in Alaska – a cow with a calf may be at the top – maybe behind a grizzly or polar bear with cub, but maybe not. Moose have an uncanny manner by which they uh, destroy, their enemies. A moose, weighing up to 1300 pounds and standing up to seven feet at the shoulders, will simply, when pissed off, get up on it's hind legs (kind of like a horse rearing up) and then pummel said enemy with it's front hooves. I'm not kidding, it'll just pound your pathetic body deep into the permafrost.

The good news is they often like to tell you they’re pissed well BEFORE they pummel you. This is how a moose tells you to get the hell away: first they look at you (that’s a good time to check your distance – if an animal that big stares at you, you best be doing some thinking about whether you’re pissing it off). If it finds that it doesn’t like what it’s looking at, it may turn broadside to you, -to remind you, in case you’ve forgotten, exactly how damn big an animal it is. Although sometimes it opts out of this obvious reminder. Next, it starts twitching it ears and eventually will lay its ears back. This is comparable to one of those damn-big-drunk-guys at the bar narrowing his eyes and pulling up his shirt sleeves when he hasn’t taken a liking to you or your boyfriend. If the moose gets around to licking her lips (just like the drunk at the bar) you should know that you’re going to find out if the permafrost is really melting.
So, back to the roadside situation, I pulled ahead and did a U turn and pulled into a parking lot across the way. I had just remembered I had my new point and shoot camera with me, but mostly I wanted to watch the tourist.
You see last summer when I was in Juneau, walking around looking at the receding glacier, I noticed these funny signs that said: “DO NOT CHASE THE BEARS.” I thought they were a joke until I rounded a corner to find a crowd of 20 people, armed with video cameras, yelling excitedly and chasing a bear around in circles until they had it sufficiently cornered against a rock. I ran for the Park Ranger, more out of concern for the traumatized bear than the video camera herd. The Park Ranger gave me a look that told me this was probably the 5th time today he’d dealt with this. He called for back-up and rushed out to try to ‘chase’ the crowds away from the petrified bear. Ever since that time I have been more than a bit un-nerved seeing tourists and wildlife near each other.

To tell you the truth though – I don’t know why I really doubled back. Was I really going to try to stop the tourists if they got out and tried to get close to the moose, or would I just figure it was natural selection? The tourists didn’t get out of their car. Instead they pulled a U turn and got right up against the edge of the road, leaned out of the window, and proceeded to yell and bang on the car to try to get the moose to look at them.

That’s when I saw ‘The Stare’. The ears went back, the head lowered a bit, and the tongue began to appear… I was trying to think how this was going to pan out. Was the moose really going to pummel the car? That would be an awesome picture. Would the moose chase the car when, or if, it drove away? Another awarding winning shot.
But just when I thought the moose was going to charge, the strangest thing happened. This incredibly loud, ‘old school’ motorcycle came tearing around the corner and blaring by at lightning speed. The moose, the tourist and I were taken completely off guard. The moose jumped, and with baby in tow, took off for the trees. The tourist banged his head on the top of the door and I nearly dropped my camera. I’m sure the motorcyclist saw the moose, for I saw his head swivel as he went by. Maybe he was some kind of super hero, being called to duty when wildlife was stressed by ignorant, selfish tourists. Maybe he watched the whole thing unfold and then intervened at the perfect moment. Maybe he does this all the time, leaving many people -and moose- asking “Who was that leather clad man anyhow?” Or maybe it was just the best of luck.

In any case, the tourists drove off with bitter looks on their faces, while the mother moose stayed at the edge of the tree line, ears upright with a young one glued to her side. I sat on the hood of my car (plenty far away) and watched, pondering what a strange collision of worlds we are in now.

Walking In Two Wolrds

2008-07-26T18:08:00.001-07:00

I’ve discovered a new season in my life, a yearly or bi-yearly occurrence that’s full of excitement and stress, it happens as I transition to Northern Alaska from California and when I transition to California from Northern Alaska. I liken it to riding out the rapids at Whiskey Rock while rafting from my cabin back to Bettles, AK. The river might be calm and steady but you always know, to get to Bettles, you have to go through those rapids that bubble up at Whiskey Rock. Those rapids are always so intense and surprising simply because they are like nothing else on the river. They are their own experience all together.

My life is like that now, I know that there is an intermedial between these two worlds I live. I can’t shift from cement and the loud fast paced world of Oakland, to the silent, slow and meditative world of Northern Alaska without there being a bit of an upheaval both physically and emotionally inside me.

My life moves now in the spaces between two worlds. This is the season that I speak of. It is neither transition nor settled. It is it’s own spatial reality.

I speed along highways at 70 miles an hour - all to comfortable swerving between other metal boxes also catapulting themselves along at 70 miles an hour. But my mind is elsewhere it‘s creating lists in my head: gear to buy, questions to ask, subjects to research... I say them out loud like a mantra trying to not forget items on the list before I can get to a place to pull off and jot them down on a piece of paper I’m bound to lose in the cracks between the seat. Someday, some city person will find them inside my sister’s car and wonder why she has a partial recipe for fried porcupine.

N. Alaska calls me; I pick up the phone and stumble across their pauses and slow speech like hitting yield and stop signs I had forgotten existed on a well traveled road. I talk over people and assume too much, I’m too loud and ask too many questions, I yap on about the newest gadgets and forget that the old ones have been working for centuries - it seems I have forgotten to ask ‘why’ before assuming I needed such a new fangled thing…I want to wash myself of the cities influences, it will do me no good when I go North. I want to hit the off switch - I’m embarrassed. But I do not even know that these influences are there until I stumble upon them through the eyes of others.

There is no off switch there is only remembering and absorbing how to adjust to a vastly different world, and I’m ashamed to be learning this again.

Their words, far away and in another cultural language, start to rein me in, bring me home:
I try to slow down as we speak of things that make no sense in my reality here in my city life: radio freq.‘s., scopes, bullet weights, ice, water levels, hunting regulations and controversial park service funding. We speak of moose and wolf populations, caribou routes…we speak of salmon runs and whose flying what planes now. We speak of bear sightings and whether or not they’ve gotten into the cabin. I fidget with pencils - tapping them on my knee’s between scribbles, feeling more important with every tap. As if every tap emphasizes and legitimates my stress, which then emphasizes and legitimates my reality and the importance of me going home. This is truly a ‘society‘ thing. I don‘t feel this need when I am up North. And than I remember how after being at the lake for a year I noted how fidgety everyone was when they first arrived. Tapping, messing with their hands, jerky movements, swiveling heads, loud footsteps and tripping over everything. I stair at the pencil and wonder if I’ll be that noticeable and how long it will take to calm this personally un noticed agitation.

It’s 4am and I can’t sleep - I’ve been drifting in and out - snoozing maybe. Disconnected thoughts wash over me. I’m remembering having lunch in Berkeley with my brother Jay a few months ago, I’m at the diner, and I’m trying to eat all my French Fries. I ask him if he knows any secret blue berry patches as I mop up the ketchup with one of the last French Fries. We start talking about berries and flowers and he’s talking about the sun on the mountains and which area is more green and lush because of it. Back in bed, that thought leads me to remembering my mom’s ‘directions’ to my brother Dion’s cabin. A cabin he built the year he died, at age 17. Directions that take you over the mountains to the other valley. A trip Ryan and I tried, and 3 miserable days later, failed. We failed because of a storm but we also failed because of exhaustion, exhaustion because we had chosen a route that led us into the battle grounds of willow thickets and ice cold creek water. It was obviously not the right route. My mom’s ‘directions’ were too simple - they were splinters of memories that we all tried to piece together: she had told me she remembered wild flowers, she remembered going up the creek behind the rock where the eagle’s nest, she remembered waking up with the creek on the left - but she didn’t remember climbing any mountains. At the time, I questioned her memory - non of that made sense. The right side was too steep, she couldn’t have been there and I saw no wildflowers on either side. I’m dreaming about the wildflowers, wondering about the blueberries, thinking about the flowers and berries we didn’t see on that trek except right in the beginning before we had descended into that awful creek bed, before turning towards the mountains. “Descended” is the word that jolts me out of snooze land. I perform some kind of acrobatic flip out of my loft, boot up Google Earth on my computer with one hand and grab a pencil and the Topo maps with the other.

It’s 4am and I’m back in that cold wet mountain creek bed fighting willows and trying to get a perspective. I zoom out to a raven’s height, no, higher even to a planes height - and I look down. I’m flying through a valley with the aid of a digital topo map taking shape and changing as I move around the computer screen. I think about the height of the mountains, I look at the topos on my lap, I think about the angle of the sun in June, I think about mountain passes and peaks, of wildflowers and my families reality that was based in a mountainous world that is never flat. And then I remember there is a difference between physical mountains and topo mountains. As Sam Wright would say: “The map is not the territory.” and for a moment I’m right there, gliding through the valley and over the pass in a reality created by the combined factors of my memory, my mom’s words, Google Earth and the crumpled and warn topo maps.

And then there it is blazed across my mind, that route we missed. It all suddenly makes sense, the angle of the sun, the flowers, the creek on the left, yep - right past the steepest part they must have headed up, around the peak to the saddle. In a world that is not flat - it would never be considered much of an incline. Just life. To me, it was a mountain. To them, they hadn’t taken the vertical cliff route - so it wasn’t THE mountain - it was just the route.

I’m lost somewhere between kicking myself for my arrogance and stupidity and jumping for joy and egotistically wanting to brag to a cement world that would stair back at me with empty eyes. And that’s when the truck came. It was 5 am by now or maybe 6am, the early shift of rush hour traffic had moved into the nearby freeway. I was in that cold wet valley tho - trying to find a route up to the saddle that would help me get back to my brothers cabin. When the truck went blaring past I lost all sense of my self - for several long seconds I experienced the split between two worlds as exactly that - a sharp split. My mind registered the sound with physical adrenalin - lost in that valley in N. Alaska that kind of noise would only mean that something dangerous was occurring. A bear roaring at my back? A rock slide? Landslide? A moose charging? A plane crash? Sitting in my apartment one hand frozen on a computer keyboard another on a topo map, a pencil clutched in my teeth - my senses were torn from the far north at warp speed to my little apartment in Oakland.

Just like the occasional icy white water drenches at Whiskey Rock, I’ve come to understand that this is my new life. I am unlike my parents in not wanting to leave ‘civilization’ behind and just as their dedication to isolation brought them challenges, my dedication to not turning my back on ‘civilization’ brings and will bring it’s own challenges.

And so it is that I am trying to walk in two worlds and sometimes, it is clear, that these worlds will walk over me instead.

Helpful info for sending mail to Heather

2008-07-25T21:09:00.000-07:00

My address:
Heather Meader
P.O. Box 73
Bettles Field, AK 99726

•Small boxes are better – they are easier to cram into planes, snow mobiles etc.

•Package well – they will be tossed, jammed, dragged and possibly dropped out of a flying plane by the time they reach me.

•If you’re sending stuff between September and May make sure it can freeze. The back of a snowmobile or the inside of a Cessna 185 plane is NOT climate controlled.

•Put liquids in plastic bags incase they open.

•Package fragile stuff with newspaper so I don’t have to burn plastic and because its fun to read.

•If you can put things in reusable containers or ziplock bags please do.

•Keep in mind it could be months before I get it – no perishables or small children please.

•If there’s nothing fragile write: “OK to Airdrop” on letters and packages in case they get a chance to drop it out of a plane when they fly by.

•Magazines are fun!

•Letters are even better!

•Don’t be afraid to tell me about the messed up news stories – don’t worry it won’t depress me anymore then I already am. I’d rather find out while I’m out there then all at once when I come out.

•Please don’t send a lot of food or treats in one package – space them out. Although I love getting treats – I’ve recently found that when I get too much all at once then I get overwhelmed. It’s like I’ve just been teleported into a Co-op or Safeway. For example if you want to send me chocolate, send me one or two bars not a whole box.

•If you have come across some money and want to buy me something special that would be helpful out there, for Christmas or just for fun, but are at a loss as what to buy. Check www.wishcentral.com and enter my first and last name: Heather Meader-McCausland. There’s small stuff like mosquito repellent and really expensive stuff like a nice cozy parka. There’s everything from books to toys to survival gear. You don’t have to buy it from the specific stores like Cabela’s, REI or Amazon.com – in fact I highly suggest you look around – especially with the REI gear. They are so over priced. If you purchase something on the wish list please ‘reserve it’ on the website so that other people know not to buy it.

•Cotton and non-cotton socks are always nice.

•Powdered WHOLE milk is also always nice as well as peanut butter.

•Bulk orders of basic staples such as flour, rice, noodles, Peanut Butter, Milk, Sugar etc. etc. are always very much appreciated. They can best be purchased through Span Alaska www.spanalaskasales.com Last I checked you needed to order at least $100 worth of food – so it is probably best for several people to go into an order together.

•If you can ditch the packaging please do.

•I always try to write back. But please don’t be offended if I don’t write back or I write something very short. I have an injured shoulder that screams at me when I write letters and I need it to be happy so I can be out there and so I can work when I’m back in ‘civilization’.

•Keep in mind the mail delay when sending letters or waiting for a response. It can take several months for me to get your letter. Even if I read it and write you right away, it can take several months before I see a plane to send it out on. Yes, that means it might take up to 6 months to get a response, even if I write the letter the next day!

The Future, a message from Heather Meader

2008-07-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I am returning back to the cabin in a few weeks. This is a time of many new challenges and changes, one of the most prominent being that I will be returning alone. I will be spending the winter (and possibly longer) living at the cabin as well as in Bettles or Fairbanks where I will be going to school online when I‘m not at the cabin. I suspect spending part of winter in town will be a very different experience - pipes to freeze, furnaces to break…plenty of adventure to be had!

After returning in 2007 I determined that I couldn’t leave my Alaskan home permanently. I couldn’t just walk away, deny its importance to me, start a new life and say : “Well, that was a cool adventure”. It had gotten back into my blood with such a fierce love and such a fierce passion - I couldn’t turn my back. It was too much a part of me, no longer layered and lost by the daily distractions of ‘civilization’.

The fact is, this beautiful valley holds my first memories and has always remained, first and foremost, my first love and first home. For me it is the place where everything -the land, my family, and their ideals- shaped so much of who I am. And because of this the world out there makes sense in a way that no other place has made sense to me.

One of the main differences between my parents and me is that my return is not based on a rejection of society. Although I have plenty of problems with the state of the world, I am not returning to the wilderness to try to remove myself from society and my friends and family permanently. Instead, I am trying to walk in two worlds. As much as that land is part of my heart and soul, so are my family and friends and the “landscape” of this “civilization.” Because of all this, I’ve decided to attempt to split my time between the two places. This return will be the beginning of this new life.

Lots of people have been surprised by this decision and have had a hard time understanding how and why. First, I think it’s important to note that many people split their lives between two places. Whether it be people who choose to have a part time home in Hawaii, Florida or Paris, or whether it be people who commute long distances in planes and cars for work. The idea that people can live or have homes in two places is not new to our society. Choosing to spend your time in a home in the arctic is a bit unique, I suppose, but to each his own.

To do something like this takes work and creativity. Deciding to do this meant trying to build a new way of life, and a way of sustaining that life. Because of this I have chosen to go back to school (online) for Graphic and Web Design, a job I can take most anywhere (although not all the way out to the cabin - thank God!). With these job skills I can work in Bettles, Fairbanks and California. Deciding to go public with my photography as well as talks and showings of Year of the Caribou was also part of that decision.

Another important aspect of my return is the realization of how much more Northern Light Legacy can accomplish with one of the family members now on the land consistently. Our goals to take care of the cabins, rebuild the old ones, and to gather information about my parent’s way of life has been, and will continue to be, easier through the consistent presence of one of us living there. Not to mention that a more consistent involvement on the land will also help in understanding more intimately the political forces that affect the landscape and life out there.

How my life on the land unfolds in the future still remains to be seen. Presently, I’m focusing and working on the immediate needs of restoring the cabins. Hoisting 25+ logs onto 10’ walls with me, myself and I will possibly be a very challenging endeavor for this spring or summer - but not impossible. (I take great comfort in the solitary life of the miners and trappers and what they accomplished). Of course, I would much prefer to be working alongside one or two other people on these projects. However, finding the right people to work on these projects is not always easy. I need a person to be skilled in many outdoor and building areas (or at least be an open and fast learner). He or she needs to be compatible in personality and work habits. It’s no fun to be trapped in the wilderness, swinging axes with someone you don’t get along with! And finally they need to have the job flexibility and financial ability to travel to the Interior Arctic for several months.

I am lucky enough to know several people whose skills and personality would be great for the job. Finances, however, are the single, largest issue that holds them back from assisting me with the cabins. With their help, I have no doubt that I could finish the Creekside cabin (Check out my website www.hmmphotographs.com for pictures of the Creekside) and possibly restore the “Old Study”. What would help us at this time is donations, sponsorship or frequent flyer miles to get one or more of these people up to the lake for spring or early summer to help with the restoration projects.

If you would like to donate towards helping the restoration of the original cabins please contact my mother, Elaine McCausland, at elaine@northernlightlegacy.org. Any questions in regards to the restoration projects can be directed towards myself at heather@northernlightlegacy.org. Please be patient, I’ll most likely be back on computer contact by December.

In the longer term future, as we rebuild the cabins and continue to turn the place back into a home again, we have also discussed possibly using the land to support short term visits. In particular, I have considered bringing children, students and/or photographers out to the land…to experience a world that is probably quite different from much that surrounds them. But at this time it isn’t the season for such plans. Now is the time to learn from, and to help take care of, a land that sustains me and has sustained my family. I have much to learn there still.
I am not sure of the length of time that I will remain in Alaska so I, of course, welcome any letters or care packages to help with the ‘wow, I am really all
alone out here in this land of endless snow and silence’ feeling that I am bound to have now and than (Please see the updated document titled: How to Write Heather for details)
So, for all of you that know us, and for all of you that have been following these updates, I welcome you to a new chapter!

If you haven’t already, check out our new websites http://www.northernlightlegacy.org/ (where you can buy the DVD of Year of the Caribou) and http://www.hmmphotographs.com/ (where you can see pictures of my life out there). If you know of someone who would like to receive these updates please refer them to our website we they can now sign up for them directly.

I hope you enjoy the most recent updates and I wish you all the best in the rest of the summer, fall and winter.

- Heather Meader

Thoughts On Culture Shock: Part 2

2008-07-25T21:03:00.000-07:00

The real complex culture shock really didn’t hit me until about week after landing in Oakland. It was all a strange adventure until it became home and then the strangeness became stronger and the adventure lessened quickly.

I had already experienced the strangeness of driving while in Fairbanks and Juneau and now it just seemed that there was no real definition between 45 mph and 70 mph, it was all just unworldly fast and felt like a dream.

The intensity of sounds, however, really didn’t hit me till I was living in Oakland. Up North I had become accustomed to the different sounds - there weren’t a lot of them and they weren’t layered very thick. If I didn’t know a new sound it was cause for curiosity and/or concern. Here in the city however, sounds were different. There were a ton of them and there were lots of layers. I couldn’t identify many of them and some that I could identify seemed alarming.

I’d walk down the street to the lake in downtown Oakland and hear the sounds of traffic on the freeway ¼ mile away, the sounds of cars on my street, the sounds of busses two streets over, then layered on that I’d hear a bird or two, someone’s music and then someone else’s music, several people talking and two people yelling, layered on that an airplane and a helicopter, a siren, a car door closing, the wind in the trees… Every sound was so clear - too clear and piled on top of each other. My mind, not used to these sounds, jolted forward and back - trying to register each one, trying to stop and think. My body naturally would follow suit. It was hard to hold a conversation, hard to walk without pausing every other step, hard to listen and comprehend. The speed and amount of sounds was too much. My mind would quickly go into over drive and within an hour I felt utterly physically and mentally exhausted.

Food became difficult as well. After a year of dreaming of foods I couldn’t have I found I didn’t want any of the foods around me. I would wonder around the supermarket and look at all the glossy packages. But they didn’t register as food - they were more like pages in a magazine. Nothing made sense - where was the food, y’know food? Not the flashy processed stuff. I no longer really remembered what some of those things tasted like and I couldn’t register, as hungry as I was, whether I REALLY wanted that particular item.

When I ended up in the produce section my mind seemed to explode. I remembered the Weins flying in on x-mas eve, running towards our cabin as fast as they could and bursting in the door with a package wrapped up. It was fruit! They had traveled all the way from Fairbanks during a time when we had about 3 ½ hours of light (just enough to get to us and back) and had hand delivered to us fresh fruit in -30 degree weather. It was quite an accomplishment. I remember I could only eat half an apple at a time, it was overwhelming and did a number on my stomach…but it was damn good! Now here I was in a produce section the size of 2 or 3 of my cabins. There were so many apples - all different. I remember I called Ryan, I was in tears. It was all to noisy, there was too much fruit, it was too bright, people were walking too fast, no one looked at me or said hi, I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t decipher the sounds, I couldn’t think - nothing made sense anymore. What felt vaguely familiar now was discombobulating and all crashing down on me. I suddenly felt fiercely a lone and utter lost in a way I had never felt up north.

I was so much more happier with that basket of apples than when I was standing in a sea of them.

During those first months, I spent a lot of time wondering how far we had come.

Have our bodies adjusted to all that incoming “noise” - so that it is truly normalized? Or are we, deep down, in a constant state of adrenalin and reaction - trying to take in more than our bodies were designed to compute?
It is now a year later and I’m preparing to return to my Northern home. I know that I’ve adjusted to much of this world here. If for no other reason than that I’ve spent much of my life in ‘civilization’ so my adjustment ’back’ should be easy - yet I still feel that I am not as comfortable and confident as I once was in this ‘society’. I suspect much of it is due to my resistance to allowing my mind and body to forget the north. To turn my back on that reality is like turning my back on part of who I am - but allowing myself to be remembering two worlds at once means that I am probably forcing a bit of ‘culture shock’ to remain reacting in an uncomfortable state of awareness instead of escaping into a tunnel of denial…

Heather's Reading List

2008-03-09T01:56:00.000-08:00

Many People have asked me what books i have been reading or would recommend, so i'm going to start listing some that i found interesting. At a later date i'll add some descriptions to the list. Hope this is helpful.

1.Ordinary Wolves by Seth Kantner (no, it's not about wolves) – Written about a family that lived much like mine in the Bush of Northern Alaska. Seth’s main character grows up white and in the Alaskan Bush living off of the land due to his parent’s choices and ideals. This story is partially autobiographical.
2. Books by Nick Jans i.e. Tracks of the Unseen, The Last Light Breaking and Grizzly Maze – Nick writes beautiful books and essays and also is a wonderful photographer and person. He has also lived out in Northern and South East Alaska teaching in the villages, writing and photographing.
3. Four Seasons North by Billie Wright – Billie and Sam Wright moved to Northern Alaska after seeing my parents film. Billie’s book is about their first year in the Bush. Sam’s is more philosophical.
4. Koviashuvik by Sam Wright
5. Shadows on the Koyukuk, an Alaskan Native's Life Along the River - Sydney Huntington as told by Jim Rearden. An amazing story of a Koyukukon man who has spanned the generations between a time when the natives of the area lived mostly off the land hunting and trapping, and the current time when most people are leaving the villages to find work
6. The Long Exile, A tale of Inuit Betrayal and Survival in the High Arctic by Melanie McGrath. The Inuit people are both in Canada and Alaska. This is the tale of the forced relocation of the Inuit people to a desolate part of Canada, where most of them died of starvation etc. The forced relocation was took place so that Canada could claim that land as Canadian soil.
7. Books by Velma Wallis i.e. Bird Girl and the Boy that Followed the Sun, Two Old Women and Raising Ourselves: A Gwich'in Coming of Age Story from the Yukon River. Velma Wallis is Athabascan and her first two books are rewrites of traditional Athabascan legends. Her third book is a heart wrenching story of how the influence of white people, and thus the destructive repercussions of alcohol, affected her home village.
8. Sadie Brower Neakok: An Inupiaq Woman by Margaret B. Blackman. This book is a fascinating book about the first Magistrate in Barrow. Sadie’s life story straddles two worlds. Her mother was Inupiaq and her father was the northern most trader. Sadie grew up learning the traditional ways of her people as well as the dominant white people’s ways. As a teenager she was shipped off to SF to go to school and it is amazing to hear her stories of her first experience with car rides, electricity etc. Her return to her village as a social worker and magistrate is a window into a world that most of us would never have a chance to see.
9. One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey by Sam Keith and Richard Proenneke. Richard went out into the wilderness and built a log cabin at age 50 and then he stayed till he was 80. His book is short, sweet and simple and will send you off day dreaming about living your days out in a log cabin within minutes.
10. Alaska Wilderness: Exploring the Central Brooks Range by Robert Marshal. A Classic. Robert Marshall was the founder of what is now known as the ‘conservation movement’. He was (both in memory and in person) a major factor in securing park lands in Northern Alaska.
11. Vanishing World – the endangered arctic (photography book) by Mirelle De La Lez and Fredrik Granath. An incredible photography book of the coastal arctic, the best I’ve seen.

New websites and DVDs!

2008-03-08T23:07:00.000-08:00

Hi!
Just wanted to let you know that we have two new websites. Heather Meader has now put her photographs up on the web. These photographs were not able to be posted on the blog while she was out in the wilderness. Her photographs show the stunning landscape of the Brooks Range Mountains - including brilliant Northern Lights, ethereal snow-scape's and dazzling foliage. Please take a look - we think you'll enjoy what you see. www.hmmphotographs.com

We have also created a website for Northern Light Legacy. The website talks about our family, our history and ideals, the film and our future projects. You can now order the DVD's of Fred and Elaine Meader's film Year of the Caribou and donate directly on the website. www.northernlightlegacy.org

March 2008 Returning to ‘Civilization’ : Part 1

2008-03-08T21:13:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone!
This update is a long time coming. For a while now I’ve been writing various blog updates in my head (and some have even been pretty good!). But, each time I sat down to write I found that I couldn’t put my experiences into any kind of perspective. My experiences were just that – moments in time with very little cohesion. I guess I thought that ‘culture shock’ meant that sounds would be loud and traffic fast and within a month I would be back to my good ‘ole ‘civilized self’. But battling culture shock was not that simple. I think it is only now that I am starting to feel semi comfortable in my old societal role. I was not aware, at the time, exactly how much my life up north had affected the core of who I am - not just my senses. I’ve felt so lucky to have Ryan to speak to as we both readjust to a world that doesn’t seem as normal as it once did. Although he lives hundreds of miles away we talk often and I find some comfort in the fact that our minds and bodies have reacted similarly over the last 6+ months.

This blog will be the first of (hopefully) several that speak about my thoughts and feelings of adjusting back to living in CA. I believe it was Steinbeck who said: “I can’t write hot on a subject, it has to ferment.” I wouldn’t consider this blog fully fermented by any means, but I fear that to make a fine fermented blog it might take years.

My initial return to ‘society’ was discombobulating and overwhelming but yet exciting and adventurous.

While at the lake I wondered often what it will be like to return to ‘civilization’. What would be the first thing I would want to eat when the possibilities were endless? What would be the first thing I would want to do when I could drive in an hour the distance that it took days of hard hiking to accomplish?
When I first arrived back in Fairbanks, I immediately sat down on the sidewalk and took in the assault of sounds and smells. It was all very strange, like waking up from a dream or going into a different dream. It felt like deja vue –like a strong far away memory that I couldn’t exactly remember the details of but that I somehow knew had occurred.

Therefore, I was mildly amused to find myself craving two very specific things that seemed so meaningless when my options seemed so limitless. I craved a milkshake and a new book to read. Strangely these cravings didn’t seem like minor cravings they seemed guttural - I would have got up and walked 10 miles to get them (luckily my friend had a car, so it took me 20 minutes).

Looking back now, however, my supposed odd cravings made a lot more sense then I realized at first. While we were up there – fat was one of the most important items. We were constantly aware of how much fat we had and how much we needed to put in the food. In a world of lean meat and basic staples fat was the key to our survival. The milkshake, then, was the perfect example of living turned luxury. Looking through the lens of about the last year and half of carefully watching and rationing sugar, flour, salt and above all else FAT, it felt like true riches to pour that much whole milk (not even powered), sugar and chocolate into one drink - my body enjoyed every moment of that fine creamy shake like no other shake before.

The book made sense as well. Books for us, represented knowledge of course and was our key to learning many important skills, but just as important they also represented friends and community. We spoke of the books we were reading as if we spoke of actual people: in agreement, in disappointment, in awe, in frustration and in gossip. I absorbed books like I have never absorbed the written word before. With nothing to distract me, the words seemed to create their own reality in parallel to mine. Even today, when I’m feeling lonely, I take down one of those many books I’d read about people living in northern Alaska and carry it around in my bag. It’s like hanging out with an old friend, I can read it’s words and it’s as if I called a friend and heard her babbling on about the life we shared together up north. I suppose in my new land of East Bay CA cement and traffic and people who never look at you – those books have become my secret security blanket, dragging them from one place to another, if for no other reason than to remind myself that multiple realities exist in the same time frame, and that where I am now is not the only reality inside me or anyone else for that matter.

After I got my hands on my milkshake and book I pretty much holed up in my friends cabin right outside of Fairbanks, and tried to let sounds and smells and electrical heat and hot showers (that I enjoyed thoroughly) and people, come back into being part of my daily reality.

And so there I was, a mere 48 hours after leaving the Brooks Range. Car sounds would send me flying out of the sleeping bag thinking a plane was landing on the lake – only to find me standing in the drive way in my long underwear with no lake or plane in sight. The taste of foods and spices was so overwhelming that I lost my appetite and there were many foods I couldn’t digest well anymore. People’s body language was no longer as clear to me and I spent far too long in confusion. Driving in cars felt as unreal as watching TV – I couldn’t figure out a single sane reason to be hurtling down a street in a metal box at 50 mph. I dreaded the phone, no longer familiar with its tennis match communication style. Things seemed strange and discombobulating but yet I felt healthier, stronger, more grounded and happier then I’d ever felt. I felt like I could do anything, that the future was endless in possibilities if you had a good plan and worked hard and paid attention to your surroundings. I suppose I felt empowered. I had nearly a year and a half of hard work, thinking, dreaming and planning and I had had very little societal influence of what is possible and not, of what you should be and shouldn’t be…without the constant barrage of societal opinions in the form of media, friends, family, government, schools etc. my mind, heart and body did something it had never done before – it simply lived, because living is what comes naturally when we aren’t battling the constraints of the correct way to be in ‘civilization’.

“The individual has always had to work hard to avoid being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try, you will be lonely often and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high for the privilege of owning yourself.” - Nietzsche

Spring/Summer '07

2007-08-13T09:48:00.000-07:00

The long and warm days of spring made travel easy and enjoyable and in April friends of ours: Ed, Carrie and her son Toben arrived via dogsleds and snowmobiles.

Heather eagerly learned to dive one of the dog teams, careening over the snow and crashing across overflow in utter glee. But, of course, not before putting her ego in check by falling off the sled in the first two seconds.

A few days later while Heather and Ed took the snow machine on a two-day trip to the nearest village to pick up building supplies, Ryan and Carrie took one of the dog teams north in search of caribou.

What started as a leisurely dog-sled ride culminated in Ryan finding himself clinging to arctic shrubs with mouth, hand and foot while climbing a steep snow covered mountain for a better look at the valley. Unfortunately, after following the completely erratic caribou trails all day, Ryan found himself peering at an ice-covered mountaintop, unscalable and without a caribou in sight.

It was wonderful to see Ed and Carrie again and to meet Toben. And we’re looking forward to hunting, dog-sledding, fishing or just plain hanging out with them again.

After Carrie, Ed and Toben left, we were tempted by fresh caribou tracks within a few miles of the cabin, and headed north on foot, again to see what we could find.

After hiking for 15 miles and being surrounded by crisscrossing trails in every direction we returned again exhausted and unsuccessful.

It is hard to explain, however, the humbling feeling of awe that overtook us standing - two small dots - amongst mountains and valleys crisscrossed with trails, dug up patches of lichen and smooth beds of melted snow where they had slept less than 24 hours ago.

Caribou have for many been the mysterious animal of the north, appearing by the thousands at one moment and disappearing the next. This valley is but one of many that has at times heard the clicking of their hooves.

To us, it was exhilarating to stand within the invisible presence of these animals, to be part of their mystery, to know that they were ‘just here’ and could be anywhere. To know that at any moment we could enter a spruce forest and see the flash of thousands of antlers or crest a mountain and see a sea of tiny dots moving across the landscape. Wilderness should never be expected to act or perform to appease the desires of humankind, that is for zoos and circuses to try to contend with. And thus, for us, to enjoy the caribou (and through them wilderness), is to be in love with their mystery and to feel honored to be part of it, to feel that our presence among the signs of their recent absence is as much a part of them as to be among the flash of their antlers.

As the sunlight neared the 24 hour mark in mid-April we decided to try our hand at snow camping.

We made camp on a small knoll surrounded by tundra and went off to explore one of the mountain streams. Although we found nothing but a solid sheet of ice, we heard for the first time in about 7 months, the rush and tumble of water as it flowed under the ice. It was hard to walk away from the creek- it seemed at any moment the water would bust through and the silence of the snow-covered world we knew would disappear.

Alas, the camping aspect of the trip was far less enjoyable. By 9 pm having been hankered down in our sleeping bags for some time due to the tundra’s lack of wood and our lack of interest in extended twig fires, we decided to cut our 5-day trip a bit short. And after one too many times of rolling off the tarp into the snow we determined ‘short’ to mean returning home at first decent light.

That night between the faint darkness colored by the pinkish clouds of sunrise/sunset, we saw our last burst of northern lights. Lying on our backs on the arctic tundra, we watched our ‘winter light’ dance and swirl into the midnight sun of spring and summer.

Soon after our snow camping experience the winter landscape started changing at a rapid speed.

The small creek nearest us broke with the sound of a jet plane and we watched in awe as walls of snow, ice, rocks and mud forced their way down the creek-bed towards the lake.

Soon the warm midnight sun turned the larger creeks into channels of overflow and rotted the edge of the lake ice creating small pods of water.

Gathering our drinking water became a challenge as the lake ice was rotting (and becoming not safe to walk on) and the creek and shallow lake water was full of mud and silt.

Heather standing on ice cake

Ryan caught our first fish in 7 months on a warm sunny day from a hole in the lake ice. It was wonderful to have fresh fish again! (Does it count as ice fishing if it’s 65 degrees out?) During the break-up of the lake we had a continuous stream of visitors.

It started with a handful of seagulls that landed in the small pool of water along the shore. The gulls were quickly followed by what seemed to be every duck the world over and amongst all the ducks came 18 trumpeter swans.

The ducks, swans, terns and seagulls all shared the small melted areas of the lake and chased off any last remnants of the winter silence with their continuous clatter.

For a while a young bald eagle was sighted in the nearby trees. In fact, at one point the eagle even made an attempt at carrying off a rather upset swan.

The lake broke up with ‘booms’ and cracking and grinding sounds that went on for weeks. Eventually larger and larger pieces of ice broke off until it was just a sea of ice cakes.

During the end of May a stiff north wind blew all the ice sheets south and out of sight – leaving us for a moment to look upon the large body of shimmering water. However, by the next day, the wind had changed and the ice came back to our shore grinding and crashing and melting quickly into the rising lake water.

As spring melted into summer we watched the sudden growth of new life: we enjoyed many long awaited willow and fireweed salad; watched the young gray jays learn how to make fewer crash landings into nearby branches; and enjoyed watching the not so sneaky young grouse with feathers still sticking out in random ways.

As the young squirrels ventured out for new territories, the cache and its valuable chocolate stash as well as the cabin became battlegrounds. At one point, Ryan entered the cabin, unsuspectingly, to find a flying ball of fur make a defensive leap for his leg before making its escape out the door and to a nearby tree to chatter endlessly at us.

On May first, with less time needed for firewood gathering we switched gears and began working on a small cabin to replace the one that Heather’s father built many years ago (and is now falling down).

We worked diligently through May and June where the especially hot summer kept the temperatures near eighty degrees most of the day (and our days are 24 hours!).

Only a few logs short of completing the new ‘creek-side cabin,’ we switched gears again at the end of June. Between summer thundershowers we began taking off the roof of the old main cabin in hopes of salvaging some of the logs for the creek-side cabin.

We are happy to say that the creek-side cabin is a ‘true bush cabin’ all of its logs have been taken from fallen or standing dead trees.

During the end of June we also took a several-day hike along a creek leading deep into the mountains. It was on this hike that we discovered the first ripe blueberries and marveled at an albino mosquito.

It was also amazing to follow the winding creek up as it carved its way deeper and steeper into the mountains.

Unfortunately, we were unable to make it over the pass and into the next valley as we planned due to a sudden weather change.

And so, after practicing our techniques of fire-starting in the rain for nearly two days, we returned back, the way we came, wading through the shockingly cold and suddenly swollen creek.

Although we would have liked to make it to the other valley, there was also a feeling of admiration that there are still places that can make you feel so small.

Now that it is the light of summer the berries and flowers are dotting the landscape. Heather is already setting the jars aside for a (hopefully) good batch of blueberry jam.

As we also slowly begin to lose our daylight, Ryan is making his plans to leave Alaska and return back to Humboldt County, California this fall while at the same time, towards the middle of July, Heather’s longtime friend, Adam, will visit to enjoy the land and continue work on the cabins.

Heather is also eagerly looking forward to a visit by her mother, Elaine, and then to seeing friends and family over the holiday season this winter.

Once again, both Ryan and Heather would like to thank their friends, family and other folks who have sent them mail and packages (we received our first mail in 3 months just the other day!).

We hope everyone is well and healthy and enjoying their summer.

Winter Blog Update

2007-04-21T15:05:00.000-07:00

0 PIC OF NORTHERN LIGHTS

As November ticked by, the sun hung lower and lower on the horizon as the land became quieter and quieter. At times it seemed it was only us and the grey jays that were left in this immense land. We were struck by the silence and stillness- nothing seemed to move and our footsteps seemed to echo off the mountains.

On November 19th, the sun rose above the mountains for a mere 2 minutes before sinking out of our site for the next 2 months. Over those two months our indirect light shrunk until we reached the darkest days. During this time a pale bluish light began to bathe our world around 12 pm and began to creep way at 3 pm- giving way to stars.

Without direct sunlight, changes in our visual environment were drastic. We could no longer tell whether the trees sported green needles or black twigs until we were close enough to touch them. The subtleties of color disappeared with the sun. Shadows were non-existent, making our trails in the snow disappear quickly from view. During the days when the snow fell and the clouds seemed to touch the edge of the lake, we experienced ‘white outs’ where the horizon would disappear and sometimes our equilibrium and depth as well.

But where the lack of sun flattened our world, the moon, stars, and northern lights made up for it. The moon literally replaced our sun, casting long shadows and lighting up the landscape. Our world became defined more by nightscapes and with all the light bouncing off of a world cloaked in snow we rarely experienced true darkness.

In December, we were lucky enough to be hiking on the frozen lake, when at midday we looked up to see the large bull moon rising. The moon rose straight our of the north over the Brooks range mountains and began its full 24 hours circle above us.

Our arctic winter will be represented by memories like that forever.

The dreaded cabin fever never got to us. Instead we both fell in love with the calm, quiet, routines of winter life.

We went outside everyday to gather wood and water and look for the tracks of what little critters had passed by recently.

Our long nights were taken up with board games and popcorn, reading, writing, knitting and learning to play the harmonica (Thanks Stacy!). Ryan read the whole Harry Potter series and Heather read all of Sherman Alexie’s short stories and the two of us plowed through over 50 books, from hunting and building, to Native and Arctic history, to Tolstoy and Steinbeck.

On December 22nd, we celebrated Christmas, Chanukah, and solstice. It was the darkest day of our year and we eagerly awaited the sun.

Breaking the silence and stillness of December 24th, we were visited by Richard Wein (from the family of bush pilot pioneers) who once flew Heather’s parents. Richard and his son-in-law swooped down like a modern day Santa and brought us a Christmas basket full of fresh fruit, cheese, chocolate and the Fairbanks Newspaper! It was wonderful to see them and to eat fresh fruit after so long! Thanks Richard and Sally!

Several weeks later, after a bout of bad weather, our faithful pal Max and his lil’ plane came bumping down our homemade runway laden with mail and gifts!

We had a wonderful evening opening packages and mail from friends and family, and felt more than a little bit of homesickness. On New Year’s we drank rootbeer in the middle of the lake to watch the northern lights bring in the new year.

Ryan also celebrated his birthday in January and Heather made him a chocolate cake covered with donuts and promised to finish a pair of slippers she was knitting him. We had a grand time and got thoroughly sick to our stomachs from ingesting too much sugar.

In January with no sun to warm the land, the temperatures dropped significantly, hitting days as low as -47 degrees.

We were surprised to see how fast our bodies adusted to the lower temperatures and had a good laugh at what we once called cold.

Although the air in the cabin was kept cozy warm, the old arctic joke that if you drop a pencil in winter you have to wait ‘til it unfroze in spring to pick it up began to apply as the door, floor, windows and walls began to freeze.

This was a time of many little surprises such as buckets of water left on the floor that froze solid- not to mention the now slick splash puddles around them, or when Heather closed her eyes to rest them from the wind, and then spent the next several minutes picking ice off her eyelashes so she could open them again, and of course everything plastic shattered. Heather went through two tripods and was only saved by mass amounts of duct tape and string.

Then to keep things interesting we had a spike in temperature hitting plus 20 degrees and sending us out in the snow with buckets of hot water. Our bodies, so recently adjusted to negative degree temperatures, thoroughly enjoyed our rustic showers.

In January we also experienced our first sunlight which bathed the land for 2 brilliant minutes.

It was strange how incredibly impressive its return was after its absence had become so ordinary.

That night we celebrated with a bonfire and a bottle of our own homebrew: DEAD VOLE ALE.

But even with the sun back the temperatures would not follow suit. After a warm first half of February, we met the cold again with temperatures of -40 degrees for ten straight days.

In February, Heather also joined Max in his little faithful plane for a quick jaunt to Bettles to take care of some business. She immediately contracted every flu bug in town (and there were surprisingly many) and returned gratefully to her bed cursing the germs of society loudly.

As we begin Spring the sun is returning quickly, we gain about 45 minutes of sunlight a week and currently (Feb. 22) can read a book @ 9:30 pm.

Soon April will come bringing us 24 hour daylight and the melting of ice and snow.

With the warming temperatures and long days our world is making drastic changes. Our once silent and still environment is quickly giving way to the flurry of animal life, fresh buds and new leafs and the sound of water. The speed at which things are changing is mind-boggling.

We hope all is well with our friends and family and thanks again, so much, for the wonderful gifts and letters.

(No cabin fever, but Heather did make snow people to keep us company.)

(Drinking water being melted on stove after it froze during a cold night.)

(Heather sits weighing mail for proper postage in order to reply to all of our letters.)

Winter Update

2007-02-21T19:32:00.000-08:00

Hello out there beyond the snowbank!

In a couple of months we'll be updating this blog with stories of our winter. But right now we wanted to say a special thank you to all those who have sent us letters and amazing care packages. Our taste buds have been thoroughly spoiled and it was wonderful to hear of your lives out in society.

Because of everyone’ s generosity we are plenty stocked with tasty goodies for many a coming month. Therefore we are taking down the old care package list.
If suddenly it pops back up you'll know that the battle with the neighborhood squirrel was lost and the little booger managed to "capture the flag" by making off with all our chocolate bars.

But have no fear! we have been busy building barricades; playing with metal @ negative degree temps while dangling off the back of the cache. Great fun.
And so, as we dare each other to stick our tongues on the new barricades, while claiming that cabin fever doesn't exist , we would love to receive notes, letters and rants about your lives in the Outside.
However, if you send us letters about your wonderful time in the Florida Keys or other such place, we expect complimentary tickets to be included as compensation for your outright cruelty.

If you are just itchin to send us a care packages we always welcome:

sony Memory sticks and compact flash memory sticks of all sizes so we can continue to get images out on the web.

journals to keep our pens moving and life documenting

and of course we always welcome gifts of basic staples: Sugar, flour, powdered milk, oats, tomato paste, baking soda, noodles and rice.

If you are thinking of buying bulk food you may want to drag a few friends along and buy direct from Span Alaska Sales www.spanalaskasales.com; they will deliver directly to our PO Box.
Once again thank you to everyone for all the wonderful letters and packages. We hope everyone is doing well and having a wonderful winter.
- heather and ryan

End of September through November

2006-12-18T15:33:00.000-08:00

Sept.

Our adventures in Bettles culminated in a chartered flight over the Arrigetch peaks thanks to two new friends we had made: Lance & Roger, hunters all the way from Michigan.

The Arrigetch peaks were an amazing sight. Sheer face granite peaks reaching skyward with spectacular pinnacles, glaciers and tiny turquoise lakes. Tyler, the pilot, skillfully weaved in and out of the peaks and alongside the sheer faces of shiny rock sometimes 3,000 feet tall.

It was a wonderful and awe-inspiring last flight before we settled down into our cabin for winter. If Roger and Lance are out there reading this, Ryan and I thank you immensely and it was wonderful to have met you.

After our great sight seeing adventure we landed home, on our glassy arctic lake on equinox.

It was amazing to realize that although we were far away from many of our friends and family, and although our daylight would soon quickly dwindle, today, our day/night was the same everywhere. It was a good way to start the next season.

As if to signal the new season our temperature dropped to near freezing our first day home. With the change of temp. we celebrated the end of all the bugs that had plagued us this summer and fall.

Although our moose hunting was unsuccessful, we did find success in hunting grouse, snowshoe hare and after reading many glowing reports in the wild game recipe books, squirrels.

In line with the history of this land and our own beliefs, we made a point of trying to use all the parts of the animal we could: tanning hides and using the brains to help with the process, boiling the scraps and bones for soup…

On October 1st, we woke up to the first snow covering the ground and celebrated with a dried veggie sushi party! On the 8th, eight grouse descended upon our cabin from all sides to happily pluck away at the grit. The actual cabin and homesite is a designated “No hunt zone,” so we just stood by in utter bewilderment.

During Ocboter we also harvested some large trees that had fallen over in last winter’s blizzard.

After an exhausting two-mile canoe ride, pulling two 20’ logs behind the canoe. Heather walked the next four logs back home, wearing waders and occasionally having to stop to break through the ice forming on the edge of the lake.

By the time we hauled back the last two logs several days later, the temperature had dropped significantly. The freezing temperature gave us extra trouble, freezing the ropes before we could tie them and freezing our mittens to the metal canoes.

In the end, it was a wonderful feeling to have the logs home and ready for next summer’s cabin building.

Ryan eating chocolate chip pancakes in bed to celebrate the cook’s day off!

October 26th was our first subzero party with the temperature dropping down to –4 degrees. We enjoyed chocolate cake and homemade party hats.

On October 31st we celebrated Halloween with a haunted house, trick-or-treating and Halloween feast that included a bottle of orange soda saved for just such an occasion. On two fine sunny days in Oct. and early Nov. we hiked up two of the nearby peaks to get a fuller glimpse of the surrounding Brooks range dressed in snow.

The highlight of our first hike was our fast descent using our rears as sleds on the snow covered shale slopes.

Our second hike held even more breath taking views, which were well earned after fighting steep sloped knee deep snow to get there.

On Nov. 3rd, the lake completely froze over making eerie and loud noises as it buckled and cracked and re-froze into a thick solid sheet. The arctic environment is clearly settling in to its winter world.

The sun no longer peaks over the mountains and instead we are graced with hours of sunrises/sunsets without the sun. Darkness sets in around 3:30 pm and within a few hours the northern lights, moon and stars light up the night in such a bright way that you rarely need a flashlight.

The temperatures hang around –20 degrees now and are promised to go much farther down.

We spend our time outdoors getting firewood and water and taking walks.

Indoors we are cozy and warm surrounded by the humming of the wood stove, the flicker of candles and lanterns and our stacks of books and projects.

Ryan & Heather's Fall Update

2006-11-11T14:23:00.000-08:00

August-September 2006

Fall has come to our home, turning the landscape into bright splashes of orange, yellow & red & dropping the night temperatures into the 20’s.

Darkness has also crept into our nights bringing with it sparkling stars, the immense fall moon & amazing green, red & purple northern lights that dance across our sky.

We have been spending most of our days preparing for winter by gathering firewood & cranberries. And with the fresh north wind, the trout started jumping & we filled up the last of our pint jars with fish to help supplement us during the winter months.

Of course we have also taken a few days off to do a couple of last hikes along the ridges.

It has been breathtaking as usual to look over this vast colorful wilderness. Hiking the ridges & looking out to the far away peaks & valleys has also been fascinating as we have begun to read about the surrounding area, the land & ecosystem, the native people & the old mining & fur trapping communities that dotted this rugged landscape.

September began with our first bear visit. While we were busy jarring fish one evening Heather stepped outside to take a piss. She had barely gotten her pants down to her ankles when she heard a large snort & looked up to see a small grizzly, about 25 feet away, tear off into the bushes.

During our first week in September we also received our first mail delivery.

It took two sleds to pull up all our letters & packages. After all the mail was brought into the cabin we spent all day reading letters & munching on treats!

It was so nice to read the newspapers & get all the wonderful food people sent! Thank you!

Thanks also to everyone who sent sinus infection cures. It looks like the nasty sinus infection is getting under control.

In the middle of September we joined friends Ed, Carrie & Emil to go moose hunting down the river.

We had a wonderful week, first hiking the valley looking for moose, then climbing a mountain to look for sheep & then later floating for five days down the river looking for moose again.

We had an exceptionally warm September. The temperatures have been in the 60’s and 70’s and instead of snow & ice we’ve had sun & rain.

Because of this, moose hunting was bad this year. We, like many others, floated into town empty handed.

We did, however, have a wonderful trip & even had a couple of stories of the moose that got away. Or rather, the moose that wouldn’t step out of the willows & instead won in a stand-off with patience & the encroaching darkness.

We arrived in the nearest town, or as we’ve taken to calling it “the big city” (Pop. 31), in time to attend our first city council meeting which lasted 30 minutes & consisted of setting policy to stop people from joy-riding on the snow plow.

We took our last hot shower for the next year, ate a three-dollar handful of grapes & prepare to take the last, last plane back up north.

After we are dropped off, the float planes will fly to Fairbanks signaling the end of fall & solidifying our isolation as even the nearby town’s airport won’t be flying planes our way ‘til next summer.

Ryan & Heather's Second Message

2006-10-30T08:15:00.000-08:00

July 2006

On July 13^th Ryan’s dad flew out amid a Humboldt County style torrential downpour. We had a wonderful time during his visit and greatly appreciated his help in moving the cast iron cookstove through a cabin window and up the hill. We also appreciated and enjoyed the benefits of his successful skills at fishing.

His help was also immensely important as Heather had managed to bring a stubborn sinus infection with her from Humboldt County. Although various antibiotics and home remedies have been tried her sinus infection still lingers. Luckily, it’s more of a nuisance than anything and doesn’t cause too many problems in the daily work on the land.

It seems we have also brought Humboldt’s rain as the Brooks Range has had an exceptionally wet summer.

In between the bouts of rain we’ve gotten days of sunshine allowing us to explore the lakes coves, the nearby hills and to hike up one of the mountains to look back at our cabins, mere dots in this vast wilderness.

It has also, on occasion, been warm enough to swim in the lake. A term the arctic folks usually describe as: A lakeside streak and then a quick plunge. The plunge is usually followed by one or more swear words and a quick exit of the water. At times, however, the water has been warm enough to stay in for a few minutes. Actual laps, however, have yet to be completed.

Animals have been a bit more active recently. “Morris,” the young awkward moose, has tipped over our canoe at least once and has been seen having dinner at a nearby cove. The squirrels, birds, rabbits, etc… have also been very active reminding us that summer is ending as the young go out on their own now and everyone seems busy either preparing to leave or gathering food for winter.

We’ve been lucky enough to have eight loons on the lake, four of whom are babies. It’s been fun to watch the young learn to dive and to hear them learn to make the famous eerie loon calls. At this point the young loons sound more like a combination of a cow, a cat and an adolescent boy trying to learn to yodel.

We’ve been busy as well since the berry and mushroom season seemed to appear out of nowhere. We’ve enjoyed blueberry pancakes, cakes, muffins and syrup. We also jarred some for the cold winter months.

Mushrooms have accompanied almost every one of our meals for a week now and we dried a couple dozen for later as well.

We’ve also been busy getting the cabin ready for winter. We “snugged” up the door against winter drafts so well that it takes about two full body yanks to open it. We also added a large rustic deadbolt onto the inside of the door. We are both sleeping a little easily now knowing that a curious bear can’t just nudge the door open with its nose.

We’ve also re-chinked about half the walls with moss for insulation and secured the windows for winter as well as built a woodshed...

...and a sawhorse.

Heather has fallen back into her old addiction of photography. Sorry, you’ll have to wait a year to see if there are any good shots.

Ryan’s been busy becoming a world class chef on the often temperamental wood stove.

August 2006

August started off with snow on the distant mountains. The nights are now quickly getting colder and darker and the bearberry leaves are starting to turn red. They will soon be followed by others until we are surrounded by a blast of color as intense as the dropping temperatures.

We saw the moon for the first time mid-August but ithas yet to be dark enough to see stars or northern lights. Although summer is still here it is obvious that fall is quickly creeping up the doorstep.

We’ve had no visits from the bush pilot in over a month (and thus no mail as well). We did hear that there was a prospector on the south end of the lake. I guess within the first week after his arrival he had the bad luck of his partner high-tailing back to society, leaving him alone with mining equipment that broke soon after and the endless company of a harassing black bear (which explained the random gunshots we heard in the middle of the night). Of course it was raining the whole time as well.

By the time we got around to stopping by he had left. So far we haven’t met the famous black bear.

We have, however, met just about every mosquito and black fly in the area. It seems they are trying to use us as their main feeding ground. Somedays our shirts are nearly black with flies and mosquitoes crawling all over them.

We expect only darker and colder nights and more brilliantly colored fall days. Hopefully soon our nights will be full of streams of northern lights as well.

We have now settled into the rhythm of our life here and wonder often how life is going out there in society - we would love to hear updates! We would gladly trade, to the first person who sends us one, a jar of blueberries for a jar of blackberry jam.

We want to thank the many people who have sent us packages and letters. If you are interested in sending us packages or mail, you can send them to:

Heather Meader and Ryan Emenaker
P.O. Box 26073
Bettles, AK 99726

This is the old list- please see the new list on the Winter Update post ~~Of course we always welcome:~~

~~chocolate and other goodies~~
~~news of Bush’s newest wars, etc…~~
~~socks~~
~~stamps~~
~~black tea~~
~~non-perishable salsa~~
~~dried fruits and veggies~~
~~sinus infection cures~~
~~books/info on the history of Anaktuvuk (the village) and gold mining in the Brooks Range~~

We have also found that: oats, flour (white or whole wheat), sugar (brown or white), toilet paper and vinegar, although less interesting, are used constantly. Gifts of these items, large or small, are also of course always welcome.

We would especially like to thank Heather’s amazing sister for working so hard to get news out and supplies in in time for winter. We would also like to thank Elaine, Heather’s mom, for her wealth of knowledge, her help with the supplies, and for being the go-between with the doctors regarding Heather’s sinus infection.

In addition, anther big thank you goes out to the friends in Fairbanks for their help and open doors as well as to Tim Miller for translating our scribbles and putting them on the blog.

2006-08-02T14:30:00.000-07:00

The Journey Begins...

Ryan & Heather's 1st Dispatch

2006-08-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

After spending a week gathering together last minute supplies with the help of dear friends in Fairbanks heather, Ryan and his dad, Randy flew into the Arctic by bush plane on July 3rd. Although Kurt, the bush pilot, said he had seen a female griz and cubs the week before, all the cabins were intact and, except for some large paw prints in the sand, there was no sign of the furry visitors.

July 4th, Ryan, his dad, Randy, and heather, got right to work. They lifted the 100+ lb cookstove thru one of the windows of an older cabin, put it on a plastic sled and push/pulled it up the hill to the new cabin. Now the new cabin is cozy and ready for winter with a heat stove and a cookstove inside!

Throughout the next few days the three of them worked on organizing the cabin and cache (where the food is kept out of reach from the bears) and building new shelves and countertops for the cabin. Even with all this "work" there was plenty of time for adventure and exploring. Ryan and his dad hiked up one of the mountains as well as up the valley to the North. They explored an old miners cabin where Ryan and his dad tried unsuccessfully to strike it rich paning for gold! Apparently the former prospector took all the gold.

Spring has been late this year and the birds, animals and plants are just now waking up. The beloved mosquitos aren't too bad this year and heather and Ryan are only averaging a couple hundred bites a day! Swans and loons have arrived at the lake now and an eagle was spotted. Beavers are busily dragging branches, slapping water and building a fine beaver lodge nearby. Ryan and Randy were even lucky enough to get a brief glimpse of a wolf walking along the shore.

With Randy now safely back at home in California, Ryan and heather are settling into their new life. And they're busy taking advantage of an abundant berry season - the last fresh produce they'll have until June! With many more tasks to complete its hard to remember that its equally important for Ryan and heather to enjoy the remaining summer time. Fall and its freezing temperatures will set in by September.

When Fall arrives Ryan and heather will have little or no access to mail through the Winter months so if you've been thinking about writing or sending a care package now's the time to do it! Contact northernlightlegacy@yahoo.com for more shipping information.

Northern Light Legacy

2006-06-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

Northern Light Legacy is committed to preserving the heritage and vision of the Meader Family's wilderness life in arctic Alaska. For nearly two decades the Meader family lived in a mountain valley 80 miles above the arctic circle and 200 miles from the nearest road. Beginning in 1959, Fred, Elaine & Dion Meader made a life off the land, hunting migrating bands of caribou and making their home, furniture and much of their clothing from the materials of the land. In the '70s the Meader family produced a film, entitled, Year of the Caribou, to share the beauty of the arctic and express their vision for living in harmony with the community of the wild.

After the deaths of both Dion and Fred Meader in the mid-late 70s, Elaine Meader returned to civilization and raised her young girls, Heather and Dawn in Northern California. Wanting to join a healing profession, Elaine pursued her education and became a psychologist. The wilderness land continued to be home to friends who sought the wilderness experience and to the Meader women who returned several times over the years. Now as adults, Heather and Dawn are inheriting this wilderness way of life and working with friends and supporters to continue their parent's vision.

The Meader family, friends and supporters that make up Northern Light Legacy have pledged to rebuild the wilderness cabins by hand, work to protect the surrounding wilderness from commercial development and mining, and re-distribute the Year of the Caribou film so others can experience the beauty of this wilderness. This blog provides an overview of Northern Light Legacy projects including the Year of the Caribou film, the cabin rebuilding, and Heather Meader's return to wilderness isolation with her partner, Ryan Emenaker.

We invite you to join with us in our vision of continuing this legacy and sharing the message of life in connection with the wild. Your contributions to Northern Light Legacy support the basic supplies, like tools and building materials, needed to preserve the cabins and support life on the land. Your gifts also help fund the epilogue for the Year of the Caribou that will help us bring this legacy into the dialogue of our time. We offer our heartfelt appreciation for all donations.

Donations may be mailed to:
Northern Light Legacy
P.O. Box 551254
South Lake Tahoe, CA 96155

Rebuilding the Log Cabins

2006-06-05T01:42:00.000-07:00

The last cabin built by Fred and Dion Meader with freinds in 1969.

The old cedar logs are beautiful but the cabin is unusable due to weather damage and age.

A new cabin is born. Old and new friends come together to help Elaine, Heather and Dawn build a new main cabin in 2002.

The crew replicated the old log cabin not only in design but also in technique, using only simple hand tools: axes, saws, chisels and augers.

Heather Meader carefully balancing herself as she hand drills into the ceder logs that will support the roof.

The new cabin completed just before freeze up, September 2002.

Year of the Caribou Film

2006-06-04T20:45:00.000-07:00

Year of the Caribou is a feature-length film that captures the magnificent beauty of the artic wilderness and documents how the Meader family survived in wilderness isolation. Year of the Caribou was shown throughout the country in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, inspiring a generation in search of an alternative way of life. In the ‘80’s the film was distributed by the Cannon Corporation both nationally and internationally under the title, The Alaskan Wilderness Adventure.

In Fall 2000 the Meader family regained the rights to Year of the Caribou. With many hours of careful work Elaine, Dawn and Heather Meader began the process of restoring the vintage film for re-distribution. In the lab the brittle film was spliced back together and transferred from 16mm to 35mm and finally to digital and video. Elaine, Heather and Dawn then began showing the film and speaking about the past, the present and the importance of wilderness preservation.

Year of the Caribou is once again available for purchase. To purchase a DVD please visit www.northernlightlegacy.org or mail a check or money order for $30.00 to:

Northern Light Legacy
P.O. Box 551254
South Lake Tahoe, 96155-0024

Going Home

2006-04-30T15:36:00.000-07:00

Summer 2006: Four seasons in the wild

Heather and her partner Ryan will move into the new cabin and prepare to bed down for an arctic winter of 60 below and 24 hours of darkness, then brace themselves for the ice melt and a breathtaking spring and then, finally, to experience the 24 hour summer light. They also hope to finish rebuilding the old study that Fred Meader had once built for Elaine. Through this experience Heather hopes to understand more fully what this world once was: intense and beautiful wilderness, and how our present world can best interact with it. She also hopes to take this time to understand and experience better her family’s passion to isolate themselves from society in this breathtaking wilderness.

Ryan and Heather are now making plans to return to the Lake for 15 months. Now for the big questions: how many pounds of rice, flour, sugar, etc. do you bring up for a year? What books will sustain you through a cold dark winter? Remember, there is no electricity, no phones, no computers, no roads...but there will be beauty, solitude and the northern lights! Wish us luck!

You can get updates on Heather and Ryan's journey via emails from Northern Light Legacy. Please email northernlightlegacy@yahoo.com if you'd like to be added to their email list.

Photo Collection

2006-03-07T21:31:00.000-08:00

Present Day

Elaine, Heather & Dawn Meader atop a nearby mountain.
Solstice 2001

Elaine Meader, now in her 70's, returning to the lake.

Dawn Meader enjoying the view from the roof of the new cabin.

History

Fred & Dion Meader in the early years. Circa 1962.

Elaine & Fred Meader with Heather in hand made caribou parkas. Circa 1975.

Fred, Elaine, Heather & Dawn Meader just before Fred's passing, 1977.

Wildfire 2005

2006-02-27T23:21:00.000-08:00

Summer 2005: Lightning Fire

In June we received news from Alaska that a forest fire, sparked by a thunderstorm, had been quickly racing down the mountainside a mile to the South of our cabins. Friends from Fairbanks quickly flew in and heroically stationed themselves on the property to protect the cabins. By this time the fire engulfed over 2500 acres and burned most of the valley and mountains at the south end of the lake. After battling with the state bureaucracy for some time, smokejumpers finally arrived to tempered the blaze. However, the fire was not extinguished and hotspots continued to threaten to jump the burn lines on our northern side. In mid-July Heather and Dawn flew in to relieve half of the fire crew, learn the difficult art of "reading" smoke, and continue the hard labor of clearing brush and dead trees from around the cabins.

By Fall, the fire, although cresting the edge of the mountain overlooking the cabin, had begun to quiet down and the cabins remained untouched. The cold weather and snow of winter have hopefully put the fire to rest forever, although in the arctic it is possible for fires to live under the groundcover all winter only to come back and surprise you in the spring. We are hoping for no surprises!