Thursday December 24
I woke up about 4 this morning. I can see getting up so early tomorrow morning but Kari and I already have this years present, a well here at the asylum.
It is 25 degrees at 6am, we have gained 2 minutes since the solstice. It should really ramp up pretty fast. If I remember correctly we will gain 6-8 minutes a day in a couple months, then the curve will start to flatten. By June 22 we will be headed the other way again. Looks like our chances of a white Christmas are pretty good. We have had over 4 feet of snow this winter. It has flattened down a bit, but will stay with us until May.
3 barrels of fuel followed me and my snow machine home from the landing yesterday so all of our storage is full. Next I will start hauling propane as soon as Bonnie and Clyde are both empty. They are our 100 gallon 440 pound bottles. I named them to keep track of our usage. Number one and two would just be too simple. I have a 220 pounder named Earl that is still full.
Tuesday evening Kari and I were packing the landing strip and Roger came by headed down the trail from Skwentna. He asked if I wanted to make a fuel run in the morning. I wasn’t too excited about it, but Kari quickly said, sure he wants to go. Must be something about being together in a 16 x 30 cabin for several months. Anyway I really wanted to go…you know, make hay while the sun shines, or in this case make gas while the snow flies.
We got up early Wednesday morning. Kari fixed a nice breakfast of sausage, eggs, and toast. Fixed is an Appalachian term, you don’t make or cook food, you fix it. I guess the eggs were broken and needed to be fixed. Actually Kari broke and froze the eggs several months ago.
Machines are fueled, sled loaded with three empty barrels, warmed up and ready to go. It is warm, too warm, 32 degrees. Kari is going to have coffee with Myra again. I guess they didn’t get there discussion about husbands finished during our last trip on Sunday morning. On the river trail to Rogers I could feel my machine sinking in the snow a bit, slipping the track a little. Overflow, keep moving, now is not the time to stop. It isn’t bad but something to think about. There are other spots along the trail that are known to be bad when the conditions are right for overflow.
Roger and I talked it over and decided to go. If it is too bad we will turn around and come back home. There were about a dozen spots of overflow along the way. Nothing too long. The trail is flat, the best I can remember. The morning is beautiful. I’m riding with my helmet open and my jacket unzipped. I stopped to take a couple photos of the sunrise. I could see the purple mountains majesty but no amber waves of grain.
I made a couple stops to pick up dog booties from the dog teams training for the Iditarod. The dogs wear booties secured by Velcro. They are a throw away item. During the race a team will go through several thousand. I take them home to our dogs. They love them. Kind of like the Goodwill of doggie boots. No they don’t wear them. They carry them around the cabin. They are like their favorite toys. Anyway I was a good doggie daddy and brought them home a few for Christmas. I even brought Kari a few too. It feels so good when you give, no matter what the gift is.
Anyway keep moving. In the back of my mind I’m thinking of the return trip. The temps are up, the overflow will be getting worse, and I’m adding 1200 pounds of weight to my sled. We cruised on into the landing in good time. Filled the drums and we were headed home after the 1 hour pit stop. The trip back went smooth and quick. The overflow had increased but not a problem. Roger peeled off again at Fish Lakes Creek and I headed home to Silty Slough. I’m in the cabin at 4:30. Good trip seven and a half hours. I figure that I need to haul about 30 loads this winter to get the material I need up here for the addition to the cabin.
We have a few freightdog internships available, poor pay, hard work, long hours, ok accommodations, beautiful scenery, excellent food. Inquire within.
I need to take a nap before I “fix” some cornbread for dinner.
I told you it was an asylum.
From the Silty Slough, stay safe and healthy, my friends. Merry Christmas!!
Thank you Lord for your many blessings!!
I’ll be in touch.
The View from the Outhouse 