It’s springtime in Denali. It snowed for three days in a row last week, today is in the mid-50’s, and just a bit north of our office, the Park’s Spring Road Opening Crew is hard at work plowing the Denali Park Road.

I realized recently that my knowledge of this process was woefully inadequate, and that perhaps it was time I find a more suitable explanation than my theory of aliens simply zapping the road with their magical, snow-melting lasers. My quest to discover “How They Plow the Park Road” complete, I now share my findings with you.

The goal is simple enough: remove snow and ice from the 90-mile road. Ideally, the crew reaches Kantishna by around May 18, which yet allows a few days for the last part of the road to dry out before it is opened to administrative traffic. The crew therefore begins plowing around the third week of March. The total process averages about ten weeks and is tackled by two crews, each consisting of three equipment operators for plowing, and two steam crewmembers for thawing culverts.

The plow team relies on three machines to get the job done: a grader with a snow wing, a D7 bulldozer, or “dozer,” and a front-end loader with a 6-way plow. There is also a flatbed pickup that follows carrying extra gear, oils, tools, and a generator: machinery gets plugged in at night in cold temperatures.

The steam team follows the heavy equipment and is primarily concerned with the culverts. By attaching a steam hose to the steam pipes attached to and inside some culverts, the crew is able to run steam all the way through, which helps melt the ice that has frozen solid inside. When there’s no steam pipe installed, the process becomes more of an art form than an exact science, and it’s a lot of work. Much time is spent getting water away from the road to help it dry and avoid structural damage.

Certain stretches of road often see deeper ice and snow levels. Around mile 4.5, there’s a quarter-mile section where crews have seen ice 12 feet deep in the past. Other tricky spots include mile 17 (just past Savage River), mile 40-41 (just shy of our picnic supper stop), and a long stretch just west of Camp Denali, to name but a few. How does one go about removing 12 feet of ice?  In the old days, they drove over it when they could and let it melt, or spread coal ash on it to speed up the process. These days, the dozer uses three ripper shanks—think giant claws (that would humble any grizzly)—to break up the ice so it can be removed by the loader. Recent road projects, particularly at mile 4.5 and in Igloo canyon, have helped significantly in reducing the amount of ice found on those sections of the road.

Toklat marks a significant point in the process for several reasons. First, the timing of their arrival is a good gauge for whether the teams are on schedule. This is also the time to address any equipment maintenance issues. Last but not least, it marks the start of snow country; farther west, snow depths are typically greater than those on the eastern half of the road. Highway Pass often sees drift depths of 12-15 feet, or a bit further west, up to 20 feet. (I might parenthetically add that by park entrance-area standards, this is quite substantial. Skiers and snowmachiners in our east end winter community rejoice at any snowfall exceeding a few inches.)

So with all that snow and ice, does not one wonder how they know where the road goes? Experience. Most of the time they can see an edge or two, but sometimes, they go by feel. The dozer operator is therefore the most experienced member of the team (and also he who has most recently paid his life insurance premium).

Is it dangerous? Yes and no. In much the same way that guides leading hikes in bear country are aware of their situational hazards and take appropriate precautions, so does the road crew. Putting cleats on the dozers helps to reduce slipping sideways, for example. And experience helps operators recognize hazards, such as an “ice lens” that forms on the road itself as surface snow melts and runs down through the snow pack, then freezes on the road surface.

All things considered, it's probably safer than zapping the road with lasers.

Want to read more? Follow the road crew's progress here.

Special thanks to West District Roads Supervisor Brad Ebel for patiently providing all of this information, and also for sharing the bus photo from his own personal collection.




 

Wolves in Alaska represent for some an icon of the rugged north and a land left undisturbed—a symbol so important people will travel thousands of miles and spend great amounts of money to see them.  For others, wolves are viewed as a consumable resource, providing important furs that keep so many people warm in the harsh environments of the arctic and interior Alaska.  And the prevailing political opinion in the state is that wolves are a direct threat to game species such as moose and caribou, so predator control has long been in effect.   With so many passionate views, and politically appointed decision-makers, it is no wonder the state is in turmoil over its wildlife resources.

The wolves have endured a series of blows this winter, beginning with the untimely death of perhaps their greatest advocate in the state, Dr. Gordon Haber. As an independent researcher, Haber spent the better part of four decades closely studying and advocating for the wolves not only in Denali National Park, but elsewhere in the state. 

In early March, the State Board of Game ignored requests from the National Park Service and its biologists, many wildlife and conservation groups, and numerous local citizens to reinstate, and even slightly enlarge, no-take wolf buffer areas located immediately adjacent to Denali National Park. The wolf buffer, which has been in place for the last six years, would have continued to prevent wolves within it from being hunted or trapped.  Park boundaries, while drawn on maps of the area, are obviously not recognized by wildlife. NPS managers are tasked with managing for healthy wildlife populations, which can be difficult to do when park animals regularly cross its boundaries. In Denali, once those animals leave the park, they are on state land where wildlife is subject to intensive management for the greatest possible game species yield (moose & caribou).  Park managers have long recognized the buffer area as important habitat for Denali National Park wolves straying beyond the park boundaries in pursuit of winter caribou. Not only did the Board of Game disregard this information as a viable concern and vote to eliminate the Denali wolf buffer, the Board also instituted a six-year moratorium on considering the issue again.

The Alaska Department of Fish and Game has drawn attention in the last week for a couple of controversial moves. As part of Fish and Game’s intensive management for maximum yield of the Fortymile caribou herd and moose in the eastern Interior, the agency is using fixed wing aircraft to spot wolves and then returning in helicopters with gunners to shoot them. They hope to remove and kill 185 wolves through the efforts of trappers, hunters, private pilots and the state, leaving about 100 wolves remaining in the control area. While this is controversial in itself, last week the State’s team killed an entire pack of wolves just outside of Yukon Charley Rivers National Preserve, including two wolves collared for research by the National Park Service. Fish and Game had agreed beforehand that it would not kill wolves collared by biologists from the Yukon Charley Rivers National Preserve, and then afterwards said they killed the wolves wearing radio collars by mistake.  

The second controversial ADF&G issue involves the appointment of Corey Rossi to be the new Alaska Department of Fish and Game’s Director of the Division of Wildlife Conservation.  Given his lack of a college degree or other qualifications necessary for even an entry-level biologist position within the Division, a group of 40 former agency biologists are crying for his removal. They cite concerns regarding his lack of scientific background and the potential move the Division is heading regarding managing Alaska’s wildlife—a move away from the standard of science-based management, and toward a simplistic abundance management model where the single, overriding objective is maximum production of wild game meat. Thus far, the Commissioner of Alaska Department of Fish and Game is standing by his leadership choice.

What does all this mean for Alaska and it’s great wealth of wildlife? What does it mean for those who are non-consumptive wildlife “users”—those who rely upon wildlife for tourism, photography, and as indicators of a healthy ecosystem? The answer isn’t simple or clear, and will likely be a moving target as politics, appointees, climate change, public views, and other factors evolve over time.   For now, despite the hostile environment wolves and other large predators may experience elsewhere in the state, Denali National Park, and other national parks within Alaska are sanctuaries where nature’s food chain remains un-manipulated (at least while the animals stay within the boundaries). Denali continues to be one of the best places for viewing wolves in North America, a place that illustrates there are economic rewards in watchable wildlife, and where we as humans might be reminded of what is truly wild.

This past week has been busier than usual but is emblematic of the activities this Camp Denali year-round staff member partakes in during the dark, cold winter months.

My name is Martha McPheeters. I am a Naturalist Guide in the summer and the Personnel Coordinator in the fall, winter and spring. Right now it is hiring season. My work life is full of interviewing potential staff, setting up in-person interviews, checking references, revising last years hiring documents and deciding who will work at Camp Denali/North Face Lodge during the upcoming summer.  The rest of this blog is about my non-work hours.

First to set the scene, it is NOT dark or cold by interior Alaska standards as this February week unfolds.  The most recent snowfall and sub-zero temperatures were in January and it is now late February. The minutes of sunlight each day have been increasing steadily since the winter solstice so that now we have nearly 11 hours of sun-above-the-horizon time each day.  At Solstice we had 4 hours of sun-above-the hypothetical-sea-level-horizon time. The light comes rushing back at 4-7 minutes per day. From the beginning of this week to the end, the amount sun-above-the-horizon time has increased by nearly 49 minutes.

Friday: On certain Fridays after work I join the Women’s Ice Hockey Team in Healy, AK to scrimmage. Today is the tenth day of above 32-degree temperatures and the outdoor rink is a big puddle. Hockey practice is cancelled so I head home.

Saturday: The DERT bags (the newly organized Denali Emergency Response Team) execute a practice search and rescue. Sixteen of us show up at 10 AM and pretend to find four skiers buried in an avalanche at some distance from our meeting point. With the rescue complete, the DERT retreats to 229 Parks Restaurant and Tavern to debrief the experience.  Many participants suggest improvements for next time.... the real rescue we hope will never happen.

Sunday: Sunday begins with brunch at my cabin. We eat artichokes that a California friend mailed to me after listening to me complain about the scarcity of the vegetables in the interior of Alaska in the winter. Brunch is followed by a ski trip up Riley Creek in Denali National Park on no-wax skis. My preference is waxable skis but today the snow underfoot has been thawed and refrozen maybe 10 times making proper wax selection impossible.

In the evening, I put my books and homework into a pack and walk over to a neighbor’s house for Physics Class.  This small group of older women who had Math or Physics majors in college have been getting together weekly to take an online Physics course from MIT. Actually that was last winter, this winter we have become less formal and choose topics of mutual interest to research. Tonight we are making telescopes from cardboard toilet paper tubes and lenses we acquired from broken cameras, broken magnifying glasses and toys. We find ourselves flummoxed by the need for a parabolic mirror. In the process we discover that collectively we do remember the equation for a parabola and how to calculate the focal length of the mirror we do not have.

Monday: It is still above freezing so I go for a bike ride to Carlo Creek on completely bare roads. Then I move firewood from a tarp-covered heap to my now half-empty woodshed.  I wonder if wood-burning season is half-over.

Tuesday: Today is cooler, a high of 20 degrees and we’ve had a whiff of snow greatly improving the ski conditions. I go for a six-mile ski on my waxable skis.

Wednesday: Now there is an inch of new snow and the temperature is 10 degrees. I hook up a neighbor’s dog and skijor for nearly three hours covering more miles than I could ski in the same period of time. (Skijor means to use a dog to assist a cross-country skier. The dog and the skier wear harnesses and are connected by a length of rope.  The skier provides propulsion with skis and poles while the dog pulls.)

Trudging home in the evening, the snow has the unmistakable and satisfying squeak that accompanies sub-zero temperatures. I get home and sure enough, it is 4 below zero.

Thursday: I attend my weekly Tai Chi group in Healy. This group learned a Yang style short form in 1999 and has been meeting weekly ever since to read from the Tao Te Ching, do Shibashi and practice the form.

Friday: Three more inches of snow have fallen. Yippee! A friend asked if I would be willing to exercise her sled dogs while she is gone. This friend, Nan Eagleson, former Camp Denali guide, is going to “town” to guide Exploritas (formally Elderhostel) trips to the Fur Rondy and the Iditarod dog sled races. I love mushing dogs and this afternoon I hook up Nan’s six mellow, aging sled dogs and go for a run. There is nothing quite so thrilling or quite so Alaskan as riding the runners behind eagerly pulling dogs.

In the evening there is a dessert potluck to kick-off Winterfest. (I did find time to make cookies.) Winterfest is a three-day celebration of winter for those of us living just outside the eastern boundary of Denali National Park.  The keynote address this year is given by our very own Jerryne and Wally Cole, the owners of Camp Denali. They give a wonderful presentation that starts with baby pictures of Celia Hunter and Ginny Hill, the founders of Camp Denali, and end with baby pictures of their grandchildren, the potential inheritors of Camp Denali.

Closing: Perhaps these few paragraphs will give the summer guest to Camp Denali pause to re-consider the inevitable question that year-round staff answer repeatedly, “What do you do all winter in Alaska?”