Spring, like an old friend, is threatening to come stay for awhile. After a wild few days of 35 mph winds with gusts up to 55 driving the mercury down to 35 below zero and blowing snow, hats, trash and car doors, the sun came out to play in all its glory. It was around 20 degrees and sunny today. Even the ice on the floormats in my tacoma melted into little puddles on the hard grey rubber, gotta love that greenhouse effect in full sunshine. After lunch and chilling at the skeet range talking shop with Mark, I decided to hop in the truck and go for a drive and listen to the radio. I headed south on the fabled Richardson highway. I wanted to get as far as Summit Lake the site of the Arctic Man festival. The Outdoor Recreation guys were filling me in on the particulars yesterday. Arctic Man, which was prominently featured on one of the episodes of Alaska State Troopers, is the last gasp of winter. Most of the snow has melted everyplace else, but holds on just a bit longer at elevation at Summit Lake around Paxson. Paxson is around an hour south of Delta and the start of the Denali Highway 8. Hwy 8 cuts through to Denali and is wild and remote. Can you say Grizzly bears?!
I drove to enjoy the sunshine and the wonderful countryside that the Richardson highway transects. Mountain ranges galore, no houses, just trees, animal hoof prints and the oil pipeline. Down in the flats around Donnelly Dome, I drove by a yearling caribou calf dead on the side of the highway. Oddly enough, it was fully intact without a scavenger in sight and I made note to check it out on the way back to see if I could see the trauma that would tell me what hit it or how it died. I didn't quite make it to Paxson, I was worried about gas and couldn't remember if they had a gas stationat Paxson Lodge that was open on Sundays in Winter. Being closed due to those criteria isn't really a stretch in this part of Alaska. Either way, I wasn't taking chances and turned around a couple of passes before Summit Lake and drove back. As I hit the flats, my thoughts turned to the caribou calf, and as I approached I noticed the dinner guests had arrived. The ravens had found the carcass, as a special guest alighted atop the carcass. There sat our northwoods friend, Mr. Bald Eagle, big white head blazing in the daylight. The ravens sat around the carcass as the eagle tore at its abdomen reminiscent of the the little bull dog on the bugs cartoon, 'what we gonna do today butch?' Even though the windows were rolled up tight from the chill I still coul hear them squack and the chatter of wings as the scurried when the truck rolled within their comfort zone. The Eagle the last to leave the treasure chest buffet. the ravens went every which way, but old man eagle landed on the top of a nearby spruce and almost yawned as I stopped to get a couple quick shots. (damn, I wish I had a bettery for the good camera!) I swear he was posing, 'now from the side, look regal'. I smiled a bit, thinking how in reality, for all his regality, he's just another raven or buzzard for that matter with a better hair-do. I still like eagles and really all birds of prey, I just don't find the pretty ones any more interesting than the ugly ones these days.
You can see his big white head at the top of the spruce. I wish it was clearer.
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