Category Archives: Dan Branch

Dry Crunch

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Looks like our recent drought is going to deny us a colorful fall, at least along the banks of Gold Creek. The heart-shaped cottonwood trees have gone directly from green to dead brown. Many are covering this little used spur trail. In a normal September, any leaf that falls to the ground turns to soft mush. Today our feet crunch through the recently fallen.

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I try not to worry about our rainless rain forest and just enjoy the noise. Why should the kids in New England have all the fun. Shafts of sunlight enrich the red of a few of the forest’s dogwood leaves. When one of the thirty-mile-an-hour gusts stirs the forest, the dogwood leaves flash their pink undersides.

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Party On

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Looks like the party is over little dog. Aki and I just crossed Fish Creek , which now appears to be empty of salmon. No eagles roost in creek side trees. We can’t even spot the pair of squabbling ravens that usually patrol the creek’s gravel bars.

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The kingfisher that guards the pond is still here. When it spots us, the little bird flies off to give the alarm. It is time, I think, for the land to go to rest for winter. Then two silver salmon, sides spawning-red, leap about the surface of the pond.  An eagle screams. The party is still on.

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The eagle doesn’t bother Aki. She stares at the water as if willing the salmon to jump again. When they don’t she trots around the pond to where the trail climbs onto a low dike. There, a great blue heron surprises both of us by flying out of a nearby tree and settling onto the limb of a spruce just twenty feet away.

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Aki seems glued to the spot on the trail where she first spotted the heron. When I call her she looks in the big bird’s direction as if to say, are you crazy, that thing is ten times my size. I could tell her that the heron hunts small fish, not small dogs. But from past experience I know that she won’t move. I’ll have to carry her to the perceived safety of the woods.

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Aki Wins

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Aki charges ahead on a side slope trail through the woods. But she agrees to wait with some impatience, when I am slowed by the narrower bits, especially those that form the lip of a precipice. I could be mad at the little dog. We are only on this bluff trail along the lower Mendenhall River because she had refused to walk any further on the flat beach path.

 

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We had to pass through an old growth forest to reach the beach. The little dog threw on the brakes just after we left the woods. Our presence had scared off a large raft of mallards that had sheltered during the night on a nearby side channel.  Maybe the ducks’ noisy exit spooked my poodle-mix.  As I carried Aki down the beach, more ducks and some shore birds panicked into flight. With my arms full, I could only watch them move out of the camera range.

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Only one eagle watched us pass from the very top of a spruce tree. When I set Aki down so I could photograph the big bird it looked down with what appeared to be distain.  Picking up the recalcitrant pooch, I carried her past the eagle tree and around the rocky outcropping that blocks beach passage when the tide is high. More mallards and a large cloud of gulls flew off.

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To give the little dog and the birds a break, I brought Aki to the edge of the woods where a steep path leads to a trail made by those who needed to access the beach at high tide.  The trail passes through a weird sculpture garden of eagle trees, mushroom covered stumps, and boulders wrapped in the snake-like roots of trees that had grown up over them. Aki didn’t mind walking under eagle trees or stepping over white splats of their guano or the feathers they shed while taking flight.

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Fireweed

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We just said goodbye to two of other’s humans at the airport. They will be back in a few months. Now we are on a trail that traces the outline of the runway. It’s noisy with jets and prop planes taking off and landing. Some of the prop planes have floats that allow for water take offs and landings. One of these is just lifting off from the floatplane lake, carrying mail and passengers to one of the rain forest villages without a runway.

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The ebb tide has reduced the river and exposed large sand bars. An adult bald eagle lands on one of these. It starts to head over to a dark object and then stops, acting like a burglar afraid of being caught in the act. It freezes until we move, starts again and then stops when we stop. After a minute of this the eagle slow walks over to the dark spot, which turns out to be a fish, wraps in its talons, and slowly lifts skyward.

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All the trailside fireweed plants have gone to seed. Most of their seed down still clings to their stalks, ready to ride on the next strong wind. While I try to take a picture of the white down complimenting the red and orange fireweed leaves, Aki tears down the trail after another of her humans. Then she turns and runs full speed back to me. Sometimes all four of her tiny feet are off the ground.

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Greeters and Watchers

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Aki has dragged two humans along with her on this walk to Nugget Falls. It’s too early in the day for the sun to illuminate the falls. Random shafts of light do reach the glacier and the top of Mt. McGinnis. A trickle of retreating tourists pass us as we near the falls. They all smile. Some are happy to see an animated stuffed animal trot up to them. Others are excited by have been so close to the falls. Many are thrilled to have seen a mountain goat.

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We spot the goat in seconds. It is relaxing on a rocky bench on the other side of the falls. Like Aki does when she wants to rest while on watch, the goat keeps its head up, hams and chest on the rock, and its front legs stretched out toward us. It seems a very ungoat-like pose. While I watch the goat watch me, Aki bullets across a large sand bar to check out three cruise ship tourists who stand near the water’s edge. She then visits everyone else on the sand bar before returning to her humans.

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Aki Gets Her Walks

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Aki wasn’t pouting yesterday when her humans returned from a whale watch trip. She expressed excitement, not consternation as we opened the front door. As promised, I took her on a proper walk through the troll woods. Wind rattled the yellowing cottonwood leaves, ripping a few from their home tree. But no breeze rippled the waters of Moraine Lake to spoil the reflection of Mt. McGinnis.

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This afternoon we head out to the end of the road as a small craft advisory kept fishing boats off the water. The little dog has three humans today to herd. She gets us safely across a muskeg meadow and then down onto a breach. It’s high tide. Water almost covers the beach gravel. Aki trots along the bordering beach grass, avoiding surf surging over the gravel. After her humans sit on the beach, Aki settles by my side, enjoying the way the sun warms her tight, gray curls.

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Girl Scouts and Whales

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It’s 7:30 in the morning. Aki has had barely enough time to wake up. We are taking a short walk through the neighborhood. The little dog needs to relieve herself before her humans leave for a whale watching adventure. She takes her time, stalling over scent left last night by our local black bear. Aki knows what is in store for her and she is not happy. As her humans are walking out the door, the little poodle-mix hears me promise a proper walk later in the day. She shrugs and sulks into her kennel home.

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The whale watch boat leaves Auk Bay with a load of girl scouts aboard. It bounces into Saginaw Channel and over to Barlow Cove where we see our first humpback whale. The young women scream and dash around the top deck, letting their pony tails stream flag-like behind them. They cheer when the boat digs into oncoming waves. They scream and point each time the whale announces that it has surfaced by expelling a plume from its lungs.

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The up and down motion of the boat makes it difficult to photograph any of the whales we will see on this trip. After managing to secure one or two decent tail shots I sling the camera over my shoulder and just enjoy the show: the excited children energized by wind and waves, clownish Stellar sea lions, and diving whales.

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We Could Be in Italy

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It could be the ruins of an Italian villa if not for the wild Alaska plants that encroach on its portico. Devil’s club leaves in fall color fills in for the Mediterranean sun.  Drooping limbs of an elderberry take the slot that grapes would in an Italian garden. But there is no wine manufactured here in these remains of the Treadwell steam plant.

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Aki wants to stay in the woods that have grown up around the ruins. I would rather check out the beach. We compromise and hang about in the woods for a bit longer before slipping through a barrier strip of beach grass and drop onto Sandy Beach.

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One of the resident bald eagles, it’s feathers all ahoo, sulks on top of the old ventilator shaft. Two local ravens snatch up dog treats on the beach. With round nuggets in their beaks, they strut across the sand as if posing for a “Raven Brings Light To The World” sculpture. Once the first raven tricked a shaman into releasing the sun from a bentwood box so it could illuminate the land. These two ravens have much lower expectations. They just intend to enjoy a free meal in the light won by their ancestor.

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The Lucky Ones

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Our unprecedented September sunny spell continues. To take advantage of it Aki and I head out to the Rainforest Trail. It might seem an odd choice given how little of the morning sunshine will reach the forest floor. Only those shafts that manage to slip through a hole in the canopy will illuminate the understory.

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Since the earth’s orbit around the sun changes daily, sunlight hits different plants every day. This means most of the berry bushes along the trail will never bath in direct light even if clouds never block the sun. Since the number of overcast days far exceeds those that enjoy direct sunshine, only a rare few forest plants will have their moment in the sun. Aki doesn’t place bets on this sunshine lottery. Bright light hurts her eyes. Her nose works just fine in the shade.

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We drop down the forest trail to the beach where a gull is harassing a harbor seal near Shaman Island. Their lack of hands with opposable thumbs makes seals sloppy eaters. Bits of the salmon captured by the Shaman Island seal fly off as the seal clamp down on it. Normally a cloud of gulls would be harassing the hunting seal. But this morning, for some reason, only this lucky one gets to enjoy the leftovers.

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Coming on to Fall

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The air seems different today—colder and carrying more dampness than a sunny summer day.  Aki and I are climbing up toward Gastineau Meadows. Dew clings to everything with texture. Tiny drops of it even hold on to the slick surface of ripe berries. Chasing a scent, the little dog waded chest deep into trailside grass. Now her curly fur is dark with dew.

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Large skunk cabbage leaves are on their last legs. Soon they will collapse into brown mush. But this morning they still retain a yellowing beauty. The time of oranges and reds are here. Orange highlights brighten the dying meadow grass. Wine red leaves shelter red high-bush cranberries. In the green top of a pine, a scolding blue jay records our movement toward the Treadwell Ditch Trail.

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