July-8th-2004, 03:35 PM
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#121
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Surf's up, dude!
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August-21st-2004, 04:27 PM
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#122
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Alaska is an enormous state, but is very sparsely populated, so imagine our thrill that we had four Alaskans on the USA Olympic team. It shouldn't surprise anyone that an Alaskan would make the US ski team or hockey team, but four Alaskans in the Summer Olympics? Yep.
Here is this front page of this morning's paper.
I'll have to post the rest of the story separately. This software is not allowing me to do what I've done countless times in the past. Moné?
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August-21st-2004, 10:30 PM
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#123
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Alaskan is golden
Matt Emmons tops world in prone event
By BETH BRAGG
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: August 21, 2004) A year ago this month, Matt Emmons bagged a caribou in the Brooks Range with a single shot. Friday, he bagged a gold medal at the Summer Olympics in Athens with 70 shots, most of them dead solid perfect.
Using a gun borrowed from a fellow Alaskan, Emmons claimed gold in the men's 50-meter prone rifle competition. He became the fourth Alaskan to win an Olympic championship and the fifth to win an Olympic medal. "It's fabulous. It couldn't be any better,'' Emmons said. "It's a relief. I have been looking forward to this for a very long time.''
Emmons, 23, was a perennial NCAA champion during four seasons at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. After graduating with honors a year ago with a degree in accounting, he made Fairbanks his home.
His UAF connections paid off when disaster struck a few months ago at an international competition. Someone vandalized his rifle beyond repair, and Emmons turned to Amber Darland of Delta Junction for help. Darland -- one of Emmons' college teammates and a near-miss for the Olympic team -- loaned him her gun.
"It shoots better than the one I have,'' he said. "So it's a blessing in disguise.''
Emmons and his borrowed gun will shoot for another medal Sunday in the men's three-position rifle competition. That's arguably his best event and the one that Sports Illustrated projected him to medal in.
Emmons, who became the first American man to qualify for the Olympics in all three rifle events, just missed making the finals in Monday's air rifle competition and finished ninth.
Friday, he fired a near-perfect score of 599 in the qualifying round, hitting the dime-sized bull's-eye 59 times out of 60.
With two shots remaining in the 10-shot finals, he pulled away from a tight duel with Germany's Christian Lusch to win. Emmons scored 104.3 points out of a possible 109 in the finals, which combined with his preliminary score gave him 703.3 points to Lusch's 702.2. Sergei Martynov of Belarus won the bronze.
"I just took my time,'' Emmons said. "I wasn't trying to think about anything else, and I was just trying to shoot well.''
Shooting well is something Emmons does better than almost anyone. He owns three perfect scores in air rifle and a record four NCAA individual titles. And he's pretty good even when he aims at something other than paper targets.
Last summer, he and former UAF coach Randy Pitney went on a hunting trip in the Brooks Range. They came back with a caribou felled by Emmons.
The two men spent much of their trip talking about Athens.
"We never talked about winning; we talked about having a performance good enough to win,'' Pitney said Friday.
And Emmons is the kind of athlete who puts in the work necessary to perform well, said Pat Pitney, Randy's wife and the winner of a gold medal in riflery at the 1984 Summer Olympics.
"He has prepared himself so well, and with such grace in the way he treated people around him,'' she said. "Every step he took he would bring another kid on the team along with him. He had the work ethic. He had the confidence.''
Emmons, who grew up in Browns Mills, N.J., took up riflery at age 14 when an FBI firearms instructor taught him how to shoot. Four years ago when UAF's Melissa Mulloy made the Olympic shooting team, Emmons came close but fell short in his bid to compete in Sydney, Australia.
He now calls that a good thing.
"I wasn't ready back then,'' he said earlier this week. "I had the talent but not enough experience. Now I am ready. I am experienced and knowledgeable enough to win in either event on any given day.''
The Pitneys think Emmons' victory will fuel an already vibrant competitive shooting scene in the Interior. High schools in Fairbanks, Delta Junction and Tok all have programs. Some of the shooters, like Darland, are good enough to join UAF's juggernaut team, which has captured seven NCAA team championships.
"I think just the exposure makes a difference,'' said Pat Pitney, who competed as Pat Spurgin, her maiden name, when she won Olympic gold 20 years ago. "It's not the most well-known sport, so until they see it's an option, they can't take advantage of it. It was my way through (college).''
Randy Pitney said he dashed off an e-mail of congratulations to Emmons on Friday morning, but he isn't expecting -- or wanting -- to talk to him until Emmons' final competition is over.
"He's kind of focused on one thing over there, and he should be,'' Pitney said. "I shot him off an e-mail, a couple of sentences and that was it, just in case he's reading them. But I hope he's not reading much.''
That's because Emmons needs to stay focused for two more days. His challenge between now and Sunday's qualifying round will be to not let the attention distract him.
"I'd say I'm pretty confident,'' Emmons said. "I can't say I'm going to go in and win another gold medal. It's just more about coming off this one and settling down. I'm really looking forward to it.''
Daily News sports editor Beth Bragg can be reached at bbragg@adn.com. Information from Daily News wire services was used in this report.
10,000 METERS: Ethiopian Kenenisa Bekele sets an Olympic record of 27 minutes, 5.10 seconds. CLASSY: 7-time medalist Michael Phelps gives up his spot on the 400-meter medley relay to a teammate
SLIDE SHOW: Follow the links for more on Emmons' day, along with more Olympic coverage.
www.adn.com/links ALASKA'S OLYMPIC MEDALIST CLUB
Athlete Sport Medal Year
Kris Thorsness Rowing Gold 1984 Hilary Lindh Downhill skiing Silver 1992
Tommy Moe Downhill skiing Gold 1994
Tommy Moe Downhill skiing Silver 1994
Michelle Granger Softball Gold 1996
Matt Emmons Riflery Gold 2004
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August-29th-2004, 03:19 AM
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#124
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Youth with fly battles a shark
MIND GAME: With crew acting as his rooting section, teen battles fish for four hours.
By CRAIG MEDRED
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: August 22, 2004) 
Johnny Ellsworth caught a nearly 280-pound shark with a fly. (Photo by TIM HOUCK)

Johnny Ellsworth caught a nearly 280-pound shark with a fly. (Photo by TIM HOUCK)
Click on photo to enlarge | Three hours into a struggle with a giant relic of the Jurassic Age, 16-year-old Johnny Ellsworth of Anchorage finally forced himself to face the possibility that it would be impossible to land a 300-pound shark on a fly rod. "My arms were already shot,'' he said, "and they'd been shot since about the two-hour mark. I said, 'I can't do it.' I said, 'Captain Bob, I can't stand here for another hour, two hours.' ''
Capt. Bob Candopoulos of the Seward-based Saltwater Safari Co. wouldn't buy it. He told Johnny to hang on. He organized the crew of the fishing boat Legend into a rooting section. And somehow the veteran skipper managed to persuade the young angler that humans would prevail in this age-old battle of man against the sea, even if Candopoulos himself had doubts.
"The kid was trembling,'' Candopoulos said. "At four hours, he really started to wonder if he could do it.''
"It's a mind game,'' Johnny said. "That's what it is, and I was losing. It took a lot of encouragement on Captain Bob's part and the crew."
When bone-weary Johnny tried to give up the fishing rod, the crew moved away. They wanted to help, but they knew that if they did, Johnny would lose the honor of the catch. The International Game Fish Association refuses to recognize fish caught by teams of anglers.
So the crew said "no'' and told Johnny to hang in there as the battle between young man and ancient fish raged across the squall-hammered waters of western Prince William Sound in early August.
"It rained.'' Candopoulos said. "It blew. It poured. And then the sun came out. We went through every kind of weather you could imagine except for snow.''
Through it all, Johnny fought the fish. Every time Johnny gained a foot of line, the shark seemed to take back two.
"I never saw anything like it,'' said Candopoulos, a veteran of 25 years at the helm of halibut, salmon and shark charters on the Gulf of Alaska.
A pioneer in the growing Alaska fishery for salmon sharks, Candopoulos has helped catch hundreds, but never before on a fly. He hadn't even entertained the idea until contacted by the editor of Saltwater Fly Fishing magazine. There followed a futile trip to catch a salmon shark on a fly.
Johnny Ellsworth and his father, John, an Anchorage contractor, happened to overhear Candopoulos talking about that affair. The younger Ellsworth became captivated by the idea of catching a shark on the fly.
"The kid turned around and looked at me and said, 'I want to do that,' '' Candopoulos remembered. It was no idle wish for the junior at Pacific Northern Academy.
Johnny picked Candopoulos' brain for information on salmon sharks. He studied fly-fishing. He got Bill England of Mountain View Sports in Anchorage to tie him some 8-inch to 12-inch shark flies on massive 12/0 hooks.
The first try at catching sharks on the fly failed, England said, "because they had the wrong flies. They didn't really know how to fish for these salmon sharks. But Captain Bob said: 'You can do this.' He's a pro.''
So is England, and he had some ideas on fly-fishing for sharks. Others had caught the fish on flies, he said, but only after adding herring to the hook. That isn't fly-fishing. That's bait fishing.
England figured the key to getting a shark to grab a fly was to "make the fly more lifelike.'' So he set out to do that.
What he ended up with was a jointed fly tied both on the main hook and a trailer hook. The arrangement caused the fly to wiggle in the middle.
"It gave the appearance that the fly was almost swimming,'' he said. "I put three or four hours (of effort) in each one and half a chicken worth of feathers.''
The fly is waiting to be named. England considers the handful he tied prototypes. Johnny got those.
By this August, with flies in hand, he was ready to pursue the sharks. He had the huge 4-ounce flies. He had an 18-weight fly rod made for saltwater fishing in the ocean off Florida. He had the biggest Abel fly-reel he could get. And he had the support of his dad.
Dad volunteered the use of a Cessna 206 on floats to hunt for sharks. Candopoulos figured he had to find a big school to maximize the chances of getting one on a fly. The airplane eventually spotted that school in western Prince William Sound, far to the east of Seward.
At 4 a.m. the next day, Candopoulos, his crew and Johnny boarded the Legend for an hours-long run to the Sound. Once they were there, it didn't take them long to hook a fish. Candopoulos said Johnny barely had his line in the water before he hooked into what the veteran shark hunter estimates was a 500- to 550-pound salmon shark.
"The first shark we hooked was a bigger fish,'' Johnny said. "We hooked it on the surface. It followed the fly all the way up to the boat, and he was swimming around under the boat'' before grabbing the fly.
Unfortunately, Candopoulos said, the hookup didn't last long. About 45 minutes into the fight, the shark threw the hook. Johnny would have to try for another fish. This time he went deep.
"The second one, I was down pretty close to the bottom, like 85 feet or so,'' he said. "You have to get down. All of our flies are from 8 to 12 inches long, and they're all 1 to 4 ounces in weight."
Johnny was using the fly like a jig, bouncing it up and down to entice a shark.
"I actually had the rod over my shoulder, because I was getting tired of jigging it.'' he said.
Johnny felt a tug. He told Candopoulos he thought there was a fish.
"Then,'' Johnny said, "he hit it pretty good.''
Candopoulos yelled for the young angler to set the hooks.
"I gave it two good yanks to set the hook,'' Johnny said.
Deep beneath the Sound, a 279.8-pound shark found out the "prey" into which it had just bitten was biting back, and the fish exploded.
"He started burning line,'' Johnny said. "I've never seen a reel go (around) that fast. The thing was just screaming. He probably took 300 yards of line.''
Six hundred yards of backing remained on the reel, but Johnny did wonder momentarily if that was enough. Normally, Candopoulos would have had the angler cranked down on the drag on the reel, so he could use the power of the boat and its engines to help fight the fish, but that was out of the question this time.
Johnny was trying to land this fish on a 30-pound tippet -- only slightly heavier than many anglers use for Russian River red salmon.
Because of the relatively low breaking strength of the line, Candopoulos said, "I was not sure what I could do with the boat'' to help.
Johnny, who started fly-fishing five years ago and said he now fishes almost every day, wasn't sure how much pressure he could put on the shark either.
"We were using 30-pound test,'' he said. "I didn't know how much that could handle.''
Still, Johnny put the fighting butt of the fly-rod in a rod holder around his waist and leaned into the battle with bravado, pumping the rod back and then trying to recover line with the reel on the downstroke.
"I'd gain a little bit,'' Johnny said. "He'd take more. The first hour, it didn't feel like a very long time.''
After 21/2 to three hours, though, it was a lot different. His shoulders ached. His legs trembled. He wondered how much longer he could last.
"I didn't know,'' Johnny confessed. "We weren't gaining anything. We'd get within like 150 yards, and he'd just go back down.''
Johnny could tell the fish was tired. It had stopped making the blistering, torpedolike runs that had marked the start of the battle.
But every time Johnny and Candopoulos got the shark near the boat, it would simply point its head down and let gravity do its work.
"He'd just go head down and sink,'' Johnny said. "I'm trying to pull dead weight. You can't possibly pull dead weight straight up.''
In desperation, Candopoulos decided they would have to try something different. He decided to move the boat off 300 to 400 yards from the shark to see if it would come to the surface without the boat there.
"This is probably 31/2 hours into the show,'' Johnny said. "My arms are dead tired. I don't think I can reel anymore. We did this two or three times before we finally got him up.''
The battle had been won.
Both Candopoulos and Johnny said they felt a sense of sadness for the fish. It had put up a noble fight, but in the end it had lost. The crew pulled the fish aboard as Candopoulos turned the bow of the boat back toward port.
He thought Johnny had just set the world fly-fishing record for salmon sharks. As it turned out, that wasn't quite the case. The IGFA has yet to establish a fly-fishing category for the species.
"It will set the record for 'all-tackle,' '' Johnny said, and IGFA officials did tell him that the fish was the third-largest of any species ever caught on a fly. But a record for the world's largest salmon shark on the fly will have to await the addition of that category in the IGFA listing of "World Record Game Fishes.''
Johnny said he'd like to get that record, but he's not quite ready to go after it yet.
"I don't know about this season,'' he said, his muscles still aching. "I couldn't do it now. Maybe in a few days.''
Daily News Outdoor editor Craig Medred can be reached at cmedred@adn.com.
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August-29th-2004, 03:22 AM
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#125
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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As many or you already know, I love to fly fish, but this is another matter altogether. All of my flyfishing experience is in fresh water, too. Amazing.
Sure is nice to be able to post as in the past once again.
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September-2nd-2004, 03:49 PM
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#126
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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As many of you know, lots of things grow very large in the Land of the Midnight Sun ... flowers, vegetables, fruits, animals, fish -- even mosquitos. Each year at this time, our State Fair exhibits the largest vegetable and flower varieties grown in southcentral Alaska, and it's always a treat to see which entry makes jaws drop from year-to-year. Often, it's a cabbage or zucchini, but this year it's a squash ... a MONSTER. Don't believe me?
Cinderella's wish
Nikiski man's massive pumpkin steals show
By MEGAN HOLLAND
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: September 2, 2004) 
J.D. Megchelsen of Nikiski, seen between chains, grew a 707-pound pumpkin, which was an Alaska State Fair record. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)

Scott Robb grew this 39-pound turnip. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)

Mike Campbell, state weights and measures inspector, handles a 38.45-pound rutabaga grown by Ron and Louise Coster, who stand in the background. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)
Click on photo to enlarge | PALMER -- J.D. Megchelsen stood beside the livestock and crop barn Wednesday at the Alaska State Fair, surrounded by more than 100 people in awe of the giant pumpkin he had brought with him from Nikiski in the back of his pickup.
Three feet high and 4 feet wide, covered by a quilt and connected to water tubes to keep it comfortable during the trip, the pumpkin's round ribs and peachy sheen looked pretty enough to carry Cinderella herself. Everyone wondered how much it weighed and how Megchelsen was going to move it. How could he possibly get it on a scale? They waited, arms akimbo, and stared.
"On July 9, Thunder Horse weighed 22 pounds," recalled Megchelsen, using the name he's given "his boy." "By August 1, he was over 400 pounds." And at the fruit's peak, it was gaining more than 60 pounds a day, he said.
Everyone knew Thunder Horse was an Alaska record-breaker. The standard fair scale wasn't even big enough to handle it; a dozen people and a forklift were being used to move it; and its baby brother, Boxy, weighed in first, was 504.5 pounds, already breaking the previous record of 347 pounds set by Homer resident David Schroer in 1997.
The difference in weight for the world's largest known squash variety at the fair has a lot to do with new seed varieties, new cultivation methods and even the Internet, Megchelsen said. Pumpkin growers around the world are sharing what they know, making for steadily larger versions every year. Last year, a man in Oregon broke the world record at 1,385 pounds.
As temperatures soared this year, wreaking havoc on some of the state's better known cold crops, such as cabbage, the pumpkin patches thrived, leaving some to speculate: Could 2004 be the year that the pumpkin outdoes Alaska's famous giant cabbage contest?
The giant pumpkin entries are in their infancy, fair crops superintendent Kathy Liska said. "We're going to see more and more of these coming in the future."
"This is something special," fair volunteer Dawn Caswell said. "That's what brings people in, when we have something special."
The agricultural section of the Alaska State Fair is seeing a lot of new things this year. Already, world records for cantaloupe and turnips have been broken. The turnip, weighed in after Thunder Horse, caused shrieks and screams from a small audience. At 39.2 pounds, it broke a 1984 32.5-pound world record, also set by an Alaskan.
But it was the sheer mass of the pumpkin that stole everyone's attention: Bigger than a washing machine, weighing more than a calf and with seeds as big as a silver dollar. People got their cameras out.
"Oh, goodness gracious!" said one spectator when she first laid eyes on it.
"Oh, my God. What if you saw that growing in your yard?" another woman wondered. "It's like Jack and the Beanstalk."
Pumpkin growing has been a garden sport for over a century. Today, every gigantic pumpkin is grown from Atlantic Giant seeds, patented and sold by Howard Dill in Canada. In 1981 Dill set the Guinness record at the time with a 493.5-pounder. Today, that size seems like nothing, he said from his farm in Nova Scotia on Wednesday.
"So many growers are getting involved today," Dill said. "It's getting big in Belgium and Spain, and one of these days the Canadians and the Americans will be looking over their shoulders and saying, 'Watch out. These boys are coming.' "
Dill said 1 million to 1.5 million people are growing the giant pumpkins worldwide. The really competitive growers in the United States and Canada, though, number around 1,000. "They're what we call the big boys, the heavy hitters," he said.
For Megchelsen, who is now a heavy hitter by Dill's standards, growing the record pumpkin took two to three hours of daily time, more than 60 gallons of water a day and a specially built greenhouse with a retractable roof.
"He got the royal treatment." The pumpkin got his name, Megchelsen said, because "trying to grow this plant was like trying to ride a wild horse. He pit his will against mine."
After two hours of gingerly handling Thunder Horse, with fair officials warning spectators to keep away for their own safety, a final weigh-in came. Mike Campbell, a weights and measures inspector with the state, rigged a hanging crane scale usually used in the fishing industry, for the final toll.
"707 pounds!" he exclaimed.
Crop coordinator Liska turned to Megchelsen, "So, what's next year's plan?"
Daily News reporter Megan Holland can be reached at mrholland@adn.com or 257-4343.
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September-2nd-2004, 03:54 PM
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#127
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The mouldiest of all figs
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Tustin, CA
Posts: 11,249
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The other night we watched Scientific American Frontiers which discussed the thawing of the permafrost.
Can I blame this on Bush?
__________________
Stand clear of the doors
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September-2nd-2004, 04:38 PM
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#128
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by clinthopson
The other night we watched Scientific American Frontiers which discussed the thawing of the permafrost.
Can I blame this on Bush?
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Sure, why not? And while you're at it, Gail Norton, Walter Hickel and James Watt, too.
Don't forget BP, Exxon, Conoco-Phillips, Unocal, Atlantic Richfield and a few others, either.
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September-2nd-2004, 10:33 PM
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#129
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All Ur Base R Belong 2 Us
Join Date: Mar 2003
Posts: 2,697
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My brother honeymooned in Alaska. Said it was phenomenal. You're a lucky man to live there, Ron!
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September-3rd-2004, 03:30 AM
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#130
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Randy, I'm not only very fortunate to live where I live, but to have met Patti and her family here, as well. I'm blessed in both regards, without question.
It's easy for us to become complacent about our surroundings, even in a place as obviously spectacular as Alaska, believe me. Every once in a while, a particular quality of light, change of season or other sensory wake-up call occurs just in time to remind us to look around with greater care and reverence.
Camai~
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September-24th-2004, 01:32 PM
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#131
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Very scary! Now this is an urban bear story, though not an "Urban Legend". I have a drum student in this very neighborhood. Of course, I don't do outdoor lessons, but ...
Pistol-packing hiker kills brown bear in sudden Chugach foothills attack
SELF-DEFENSE: Muldoon man credits reflexes, shooting practice with saving his life.
By DOUG O'HARRA
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: September 24, 2004) 
Gary Boyd, left, a retired Army helicopter pilot, and his friend Dennis Hall spread out the hide of a brown bear Boyd shot with his 44-caliber handgun in defense of his life on the tank trails near his Muldoon home. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)

Boyd holds the paw of the brown bear that charged him on the Fort Richardson tank trail near Muldoon. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)

Muldoon resident Gary Boyd, 57, shot this brown bear after it charged him on the Fort Richardson tank trail near Boyd's home. The bear was apparently guarding a gut pile from a moose legally killed in a bow hunt on the reservation. (Photo by Bob Hallinen / Anchorage Daily News)
Click on photo to enlarge | Muldoon resident Gary Boyd was walking his boxer puppy Wednesday afternoon along the popular "tank" trail in the Chugach foothills north of Campbell Creek when he heard something big crashing through the brush behind him. "I thought it was a moose, but then I saw it was too low for a moose," said Boyd, a former Army helicopter pilot and retired maintenance chief. "I just had time to pull my pistol and spin around."
A massive male brown bear erupted from the forest less than 20 feet away, claws tearing up hard-packed earth as it charged toward the 57-year-old .
The bear, later estimated at 750 pounds, had apparently been guarding the remains of a moose taken in a Fort Richardson bow hunt in the woods about 75 feet off the gravel track used by hikers, bikers and dog walkers.
"I fired the first shot, and I aimed at its shoulders," Boyd said. "When the first shot didn't faze it, I fired the second time, and it turned into the ditch, and I shot three more times, and it went down."
With one shot remaining in his .44-caliber Magnum revolver, Boyd called Anchorage police on his cell phone and walked out a trail to the end of Klutina Street to meet Alaska state trooper Kim Babcock. It was about 12:30 p.m.
Babcock and Boyd returned to the scene and found the bear still alive but unable to move. Babcock finished the animal with a shotgun slug to the heart, while Boyd shot it in the head.
The Alaska Bureau of Wildlife Enforcement trooper said she believed Boyd acted appropriately in defense of his life and was glad he had been armed and had the skill to hit the animal with so little time at such close range.
"He didn't have a choice," Babcock said.
Boyd, who has lived in the neighborhood for 30 years, said he hasn't hunted in about 10 years, but always carries the handgun for protection and has practiced "a quick draw" over the years.
"I feel terrible about having to kill it, but I tell you it was me or him," he said. "I'm glad the instincts and the training paid off."
The incident marked the second time in a few weeks that a bear has been shot along the foothills of the Chugach Mountains by a hiker. On Aug. 25, Tudor Road resident Gabriel Winters killed a black bear sow that he said charged him near the tree line on Near Point.
Through early September, another three brown bears had been shot this summer and fall in Anchorage. Four black bears had also been killed in defense of life and property, and two black bears died in vehicle collisions.
This brown bear had buried the moose carcass under duff. Babcock said she confirmed with military conservation officers that the moose had been harvested and butchered last weekend and reported to authorities.
"It was a legitimate animal," Babcock said.
Military officers who came to the scene told Babcock and Boyd that the area would be posted and closed to further public access. The details could not be confirmed Wednesday evening with Army officials at Fort Richardson's duty office, military police, range control, game wardens or public affairs.
The trail, which extends north from Far North Bicentennial Park through the foothills east of Muldoon neighborhoods, crosses land that Army officials say is off limits to recreation without permission. But residents and others regularly ride bikes, hike, jog and walk dogs along the trail every day.
Boyd said he thought the bear had been reacting at first to his dog, a 22-month-old pup named Katie, as she ran ahead on the trail. Both Babcock and Boyd said they were amazed that someone else hadn't been attacked earlier in the day. It had been a big, mature animal, measuring 81/2 feet, a boar in its prime.
"We hadn't had that bear dead within three minutes when 12 cross-country runners from the high school came by," Babcock said.
"I'm just amazed that he didn't get somebody before me," Boyd added. "I see so many people back here that don't carry a weapon. Someone would have gotten hurt back here or killed."
Daily News reporter Doug O'Harra can be reached at do'harra@adn.com.
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October-8th-2004, 03:57 AM
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#132
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10 Day Disabled List
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Ocean City, NJ
Posts: 2,675
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With a wink and a nod to Ron Thorne!
LA Times article:
HOOPER BAY, Alaska — This Eskimo village sits on the edge of the continent, part shantytown, part suburb, part Wild West. One can't go farther west without stepping into the Bering Sea — and just beyond, onto the frosty eastern tip of Siberia.
No roads lead to Hooper Bay, which is why the modern world has taken its time coming here, and then only in spots. Clusters of plywood shacks stand a short distance from subdivisions of lookalike modular homes. There's no running water, but lots of VCRs and satellite dishes, and computers hooked up to the Internet.
One of the more curious aspects of life here has to do with firearms. Every household has an assortment of rifles and shotguns. When people are hungry, they go out and shoot something, like a walrus in the surf.
Every adult has legal access to guns — except the police.
The elders won't allow it.
The policy — some would call it an edict — isn't written anywhere in the town's municipal code. It has simply been spoken by the gray-haired men and women with faces like carved driftwood who believe that armed officers would only create more trouble.
Hooper Bay is the only known municipality in the United States that prohibits officers from carrying firearms. Police Chief James Hoelscher wants to change that. For the past two years, the chief, half-Eskimo, has tried to convince leaders that a growing town of 1,200 needs a modern police department.
"It's been like pedaling backwards going uphill," says Hoelscher, 28. He has a deep voice and friendly dark eyes that can turn intimidating in an instant. "They [town leaders] think we're still in the days of dog sleds and harpoons."
The debate ebbs and flows in town meetings and wherever else it happens to come up, like the lobby of the post office or the checkout line at the grocery store. It is a passionate, disjointed conflict that signals the larger phenomenon of a traditional people facing the pressures of the modern world, the old confronted by the new.
The two sides are divided according to how they view their community. Those in favor of arming the nine police officers tend to see Hooper Bay as an American town; those against view it as an Eskimo village.
"There are many ways to deal with dangerous situations," says City Administrator Raphael Murran. "If the police had guns, somebody might get shot. Somebody might get killed. Then there would be real trouble."
Hoelscher says the village has already become a more dangerous place.
"We're at a point, with the population, when bad things start to happen," Hoelscher says. "I don't really want to die to prove the point."
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Hooper Bay has been able to hold on to many of its old ways because of its remoteness. The nearest large city, Anchorage, is more than 500 miles away. The town lies on a massive knob of land called the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta, where Alaska's two largest rivers run into the Bering Sea.
From the air, the surface of the delta, which is roughly the size of Utah, looks like a lime-green sponge: flat, endless, grass-covered tundra pockmarked by hundreds of thousands of ponds, lakes and streams.
It is the Alaskan bush at its most remote, and to outsiders, its most inhospitable. Temperatures range from minus 80 degrees in the winter to a humid, mosquito-infested 80 in the summer.
Hooper Bay is the largest of about 50 Eskimo villages in the delta. The only way to get here is by bush plane or boat, and during the winters, by snowmobile, when the delta becomes an ice field.
The town was incorporated in 1965, the same year it got electricity. A sewer system is scheduled to be finished by the end of the decade, if funding comes through.
Local people are drawn to Hooper Bay by jobs and families, and the population has grown by about 50 a year in recent times, Hoelscher says.
More than 40% of residents live below the poverty level, and hundreds receive public assistance. Most of those not employed in government or construction get by on fishing, hunting and gathering.
About 98% of residents are Yupik Eskimo, and many share family lineages. Hoelscher says he is related, by blood or marriage, to one-third of the village. He has had the displeasure of arresting several relatives, including first cousins.
Alcohol is the bane of his department. Hooper Bay, legally, has been dry since 1983. An underground economy has thrived ever since, with bootleggers making home brew and smuggling in a steady supply from the outside.
In a typical year, the department will handle about 40 gun-related incidents, and dozens more involving other weapons. The majority of those incidents involve suspects who are drunk or high.
Hoelscher recalls an incident that happened July 14. A local man beat his girlfriend, who went to the police. Before officers could respond, the man, inebriated, called the department on a VHF radio. He knew the officers, and they knew him. He was 21 and a convicted felon. He barricaded himself in his house and said he would shoot anyone who came near. He dared officers to come get him.
The officers stayed put. They now cite the incident as an example of the inability to do their jobs because of a simple lack of weaponry. "Like a bear with no teeth," as one resident described the department. Had the officers been armed, they would have had more options, including, but not necessarily, confronting the man. Or so the argument goes.
Town leaders, however, use the rest of the story to support their view. The morning after the incident, officers went to the man's house and arrested him in his sleep. The officers found four loaded rifles and shotguns on the floor around his bed. What could have been a deadly confrontation, town leaders point out, ended peacefully.
Officer Dan Decker says that in his five years as an officer, he has been shot at four times, once when a man went on a shooting rampage in the middle of town. The man even shot at the police building. Officers ran, hid for cover and waited until an armed state trooper arrived to arrest the gunman.
The nearest troopers are based in Bethel, more than 150 miles southeast. It takes at least two hours by plane for troopers to arrive in Hooper Bay. With fog, it could take days.
"We've responded to calls in the villages where there are 20 long rifles in the house," says Sgt. Perry Barr, the trooper who flew here the day of the rampage.
In its 45-year history as a state, Alaska has had 42 officers killed in the line of duty, many of them in the bush, most by gunshot.
"Everyone out there has guns. It's odd to me that they won't let the officers have them," Barr says. "I tell you this: I don't ever want to go on a call where an officer has been killed because he couldn't protect himself."
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In a ramshackle house on the edge of town, elder Joe Bell, sitting like a smiling brown statue in a flannel shirt, explains the town's refusal to arm their officers: "The elders say 'no,' " Bell says. No further explanation is offered or deemed necessary. An elected council administers city business, but when it comes to the most important issues, the elders have the last say.
Generally, elders are people in their 60s and 70s, although the title refers more to people who've lived longer than everyone else around. Many elders don't know their exact ages.
Like Bell, some elders speak a little English; many don't. Or won't. Some are old enough to recall the days when the Eskimos of the delta were nomadic.
Until the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the Native people lived in extended family groups that followed the fish and game during spring and summer, and returned to fixed encampments during winter.
Most of the communities became permanent villages within the past 50 to 100 years, as clans were forced by the government to settle in one place. The 1890 census found 138 people living in 14 sod houses in what is now Hooper Bay. Hooper was the last name of a naval captain who claimed a nearby island for the United States.
"These micro-urban environments are artificial creations, and the people are still trying to figure out how to live together in this situation," says Darryl Wood, an associate professor at the University of Alaska's Justice Center in Anchorage. Wood has done extensive studies on law enforcement problems in Native villages.
Wood says Hooper Bay is evolving from a loose-knit village to something closer to a modern American town, and that it is "very wise" of the community to carefully deliberate something as potentially divisive as armed police.
Traditional Eskimo communities had no equivalents to police officers, says anthropologist Mary Pete, a Yupik Native who lives in Bethel. Pete said conflicts and disagreements were settled within family clans, usually by the elders or by the most influential couple in the group.
Someone who committed a transgression, such as stealing food, would be subjected to rituals in which clan members would ridicule him in song. Humiliation was an effective punishment in a culture that regarded saving face as paramount, Pete says.
More serious transgressors could be ostracized. Life was a constant struggle on the delta; clan members depended on each other to survive. A person who was ostracized would be left on his own, which could mean death from any number of causes, such as starvation.
The concept of outsiders enforcing societal laws — as when a state trooper flies into a village to make an arrest — was viewed with suspicion, even resentment. This is reflected in the Yupik words for "police officer." One word, tegufta, translates to "the person who takes you away." Another word, qillerqista, means "the person who ties you up."
Many Yupik Eskimos believe it's bad enough to be forced to tolerate the occasional tegufta. Having armed officers in town, says teacher and lifelong resident Maryann Nukusuk, would be tantamount to "giving a gun to one family member and telling him to keep watch over other family members."
"It's too intimate, too interrelated here," Nukusuk says.
If an officer were to shoot or kill someone, Nukusuk and other residents say, that officer could become a victim of another Eskimo custom: revenge killing by other family members. But what if an officer were killed? "It's the job they chose," she says.
Nukusuk acknowledges that violence happens in town, but she says the true Yupik way is to do everything possible to keep the peace, even if it means an unarmed police officer negotiating for "hours and hours and hours" to defuse a confrontation.
Back at his house, elder Bell concedes that times are changing, and that the delta is changing along with them. Just last spring, on May 31, three teenagers went on a four-hour shooting spree in the tiny Eskimo village of Stebbins, about 180 miles northeast of here, which by delta standards qualifies as next door.
Hooper Bay was abuzz for days with the news. Comments were made to the effect that the outside world was on the town's doorstep.
Bell, reflecting on the incident for a few moments, says Chief Hoelscher will probably get his way, and that the town will most likely have armed police.
"Someday," Bell says, smiling. "When all the elders are gone."
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October-9th-2004, 11:13 PM
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#133
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Thanks for posting that article, SinginSumo. Issues such as this can and often are very devisive in our Native villages. Collisions over cultural differences are nothing new to many of us.
It's interesting to note that most Alaska Native villages do not use the word police, but rather Village Public Safety Officers, probably for good reason.
It's always been curious to me that some of the same elders who eschew police officers having weapons to protect themselves in a potentially volatile enviroment with lots of guns, knives, harpoons and illegal alcohol and drugs, are at-home with their satellite dish, 4-wheel offroad vehicle and snowmachine, while their grandchildren enjoy PlayStation and Xbox machines. It's a study in contrasts for me.
Among other things, the artisans of Hooper Bay are renowned for the beautiful basketry. Here's a fine example, along with some dance fans (note the beadwork) and a photo of the Yup'ik lady who created them, schoolteacher Clotilda Stone.
Clotilda Stone
COILED BEACH GRASS BASKET - Yup'ik
DANCE FANS
Last edited by Ron Thorne; October-9th-2004 at 11:14 PM.
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October-20th-2004, 05:31 PM
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#134
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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| Article Published: Sunday, October 17, 2004 |  |
Wired moose
By TIM MOWRY, Staff Writer
It's a bird. It's a plane. No, it's a bull moose hanging by its antlers from an electrical power line in the middle of the Alaska wilderness. In one of those only-in-Alaska stories that will shock even the sourest of sourdoughs, a trophy-sized bull moose was accidentally strung up in a power line under construction to the Teck Pogo gold mine southeast of Fairbanks. The moose apparently got its antlers tangled in electrical wire before workers farther down the line pulled the line tight about two weeks ago.
The moose was suspended 50 feet in the air when workers, recognizing something was wrong, backtracked and found it.
The moose was alive when it was lowered to the ground but was later killed when officials from the Alaska Department of Fish and Game decided against tranquilizing it to remove the wires because they were worried the moose, already stressed, would die and the meat would not be salvageable as a result of the drugs.  |
| | Photo courtesy of City Electric Inc. BIZARRE INCIDENT--A moose hangs from a power pole near the Pogo Mine on Oct. 5. | | | |
The incident happened Oct. 5 at about 40 Mile Pogo Mine Road, which leads to the gold mine about 80 miles southeast of Fairbanks.
"It's just an unbelievable story," said Gabriel Marian, president of City Electric Inc., the contractor erecting the power line to the mine. "The only unfortunate part is we had to shoot the moose.
"It would be more of a feel-good story if we had let it down and it ran off," he lamented.
The moose reportedly had an antler spread of 62 inches, a trophy bull by Alaska's big game standards, though Dave Davenport, a technician for the Alaska Department of Fish and Game in Delta Junction who handled the original call on Oct. 5, is still in the process of finding the antlers, which are state property.
"I haven't seen the antlers," said Davenport. "I'm in the process of trying to get City Electric to turn over the antlers."
The prevailing theory is that the moose came across the sagging and swaying wires and, in a testosterone-filled moment, decided to challenge the power line to a fight, as bull moose are known to do during the rut, or mating season.
"My guess is he was in full rut and probably seen that line moving out there," and decided to fight, said Marvin Pickens, line construction manager for City Electric in Anchorage.
Workers didn't know the moose was tangled in the line until they tightened it and detected a problem.
"There was nobody there to observe this happen," said Marian, noting that workers were much farther up the line when they tightened it.
Crews can lay up to five miles of line at a time before tightening it with a giant hydraulic winch, said Pickens. It's similar to stringing fishing line through the eyes of a fishing pole, he said. The line is pulled through leaders on the crossties at the top of the power poles and then winched tight with as much as 5,000 pounds of pressure, he said.
"As you're pulling, it constantly droops up and down," said Pickens. "My guess is that he was right in the middle of one of the sections when it got pulled up."
The moose, which probably weighed in the neighborhood of 1,200 pounds, was likely suspended in the air for only a matter of minutes, said Marian.
"They figured it out right away," he said. "It was just kind of hard to pull and it didn't feel right to them, so they went out and investigated."
The moose actually was tangled in what is known as static, half-inch cable that is strung up next to the power lines to serve as a lightning rod, said Pickens.
"I've been in this state 28 years and I've never seen anything like that," said Pickens. "City Electric has been in business for 52 years and never had an incident like this.
"I can't see how it could happen but it happened," he said.
A pair of photos showing the moose hanging by its antlers began circulating on the Internet on Thursday. The first time Davenport saw a picture was Friday.
"Nobody told me he was hanging 50 feet in the air," said a surprised Davenport.
"That's one heck of a meat pole," he quipped. "No bear is going to get that moose."
State wildlife biologist Tom Seaton thought it was a hoax when he first saw the photos.
"If you believe in UFOs you might believe in this," Seaton said on Thursday.
After being told the photo was authentic on Friday, Seaton was still skeptical. "I still find it hard to believe," he said.
Fish and Game information officer Cathie Harms' first thought when she saw the picture on Thursday was that it was computer-enhanced.
"I thought somebody did a Photoshop thing," said Harms.
When she found out it was real, Harms still had a hard time fathoming it.
"Absolutely bizarre," she said. "It's unbelievable the combination of factors that came together for this to happen. That moose was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
It's not uncommon for bull moose to challenge inanimate objects to a battle during the rut when testosterone has taken over. Most Alaskans have seen pictures of bull moose with swing sets, tire swings, lawn chairs and Christmas lights tangled in their antlers at this time of year, said Davenport.
"We've had them running down the main streets of Delta with shirts and pants hanging from their antlers after they get caught up in clotheslines," he said.
Likewise, both Davenport and Harms have seen moose that died after getting tangled up in old telegraph wire that is strung through the woods.
Karl Hanneman, manager of public and environmental affairs for Teck-Pogo, called Davenport with the news. Hanneman had gotten a call from City Electric on Oct. 5 informing him "they had a problem" and he called both Fish and Game and the Alaska Bureau of Wildlife Enforcement in Delta Junction.
Davenport talked to Hanneman about two hours later and made the decision to have City Electric workers shoot the moose, based on reports he got about the animal's condition.
"It was in pretty rough shape in talking to them," said Davenport. Tranquilizing an animal at that point can be deadly, he said.
"If they're really wore down, they'll succumb to (the drugs) and die," Davenport said. "Then you can't salvage the meat because of the drugs in it."
The meat was salvaged and donated to a local resident, he said.
City Electric workers did everything they could do to try and free the moose once it was lowered to the ground, but that proved impossible, said Marian, the company president. The moose was thrashing about trying to free itself, posing a threat to anyone who got near.
"They did their best to untangle it, but there wasn't any possibility of doing that," he said.
It remains to be seen how quickly the photos will spread on the Internet but there's little doubt they will be a big hit, ADF&G's Harms said.
"It's going to go nuts," she said.
Now that the news is out and photos have hit the Internet, Marian is worried animal rights groups will get involved.
"There's going to be people who figure we've done something wrong," he said. "There's no way we would ever have done this on purpose.
"This was a phenomenal surprise to everybody," Marian said.
News-Miner outdoors editor Tim Mowry can be reached via e-mail at tmowry@newsminer.com or at 459-7587
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Last edited by Ron Thorne; October-20th-2004 at 05:38 PM.
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November-8th-2004, 01:07 PM
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#135
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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I was delighted to discover the following article in our morning newspaper yesterday. Mariano is a friend of ours, having met in college when we studied art together with the late William Kimura. He's quite a complex, extraordinarily creative character, as you'll soon see. Mariano was also one of our sponsors when I worked in jazz radio.
Symbol seeker
UAA professor's art immersed in ideas shrill and playful
By DAWNELL SMITH
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: November 7, 2004) 
Mariano Gonzales is experimenting with mask-making using computer-generated images. Simulated depressions and projections in the printout make the self-portrait seem three-dimensional. (Photo by Jim Lavrakas / Anchorage Daily News)

Gonzales' "Four More Years" is a propaganda-style poster showing Defense Secretary Rumsfeld, Vice President Cheney and campaign adviser Karl Rove. Gonzales left out the president; he doesn't think Bush is in charge.

In Gonzales' "Osama bin Jackson," a computer image of a $20 bill shows Andrew Jackson with Osama bin Laden's eyes. Below it, a collage of images includes, from left, mushroom clouds, corpses from the Wounded Knee massacre, a gun pointed at an Indian woman's head and New York's World Trade Center in flames on Sept. 11, 2001. (Photo by Jim Lavrakas / Anchorage Daily News )

Much of Mariano Gonzales' recent work begins with computer-generated images. In his home studio in Peters Creek, masks he has been experimenting with hang on the wall. (Photo by Jim Lavrakas / Anchorage Daily News)
Click on photo to enlarge | Mariano Gonzales pulled up an old barber's chair and leaned over a sleek glass desk to peer into his computer screen. A gag hand made of rubber sat to the left of the monitor, a clunky black phone to the right.
He paid five bucks for the phone at Value Village. The same 1930s model appeared in "The Matrix," he said, and he recently saw another that went for $90 on eBay. When it rang, it sounded as strident as a school bell, and as he lifted the receiver, it looked heavy and dense, a crude ancestor to the digital dynamo with which he makes art. Gonzales is an art professor at the University of Alaska Anchorage who embraced the digital age in the late 1980s, though he started his creative life like most any other artist -- first with pencils and paints, then printing ink, metal and film, and ending up with pixels and paper.
Working within the digital world allows him to "immerse in ideas rather than getting wrapped up in materials," he said.
Julie Decker, co-owner of Decker/Morris Galleries and a member of the Alaska Design Forum, knows Gonzales and his evolution from medium to medium well.
"He's the classic artist in that he's an experimenter," Decker said. "He experimented when he was working with metal forms when he started out, and he was experimenting (with technology) ages ago, before anyone else was really thinking about very much about digital media.
"Artists don't like rules; they like to play with materials and manipulate them to see where they can go with them, how far they can go. Mariano has a great combination of technical skills and an imagination that won't quit. I think he likes to play, and that sense of play is really necessary if you're going to be successful as an artist."
Yet while his work is suffused with playfulness, it's a serious sort of play, and when expressing his ideas, he relies on an ancient language of symbols that "have a power we cannot quantify," he said.
In "Four More Years," one of his pieces in which seriousness and playfulness meet, Gonzales put American flag armbands on Vice President Dick Cheney, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld and campaign strategist Karl Rove in a propaganda-style poster that recalls images of the swastika-wearing leaders of Nazi Germany. He left President Bush out of the frame, he says, because he doesn't think Bush is in charge.
The poster was displayed in an alumni and faculty show at UAA, and though Gonzales abhors and avoids the marketing part of the art world, he sold a handful of them and probably could have sold more.
Visually shrill, the symbols pull no punches.
"The flag is kind of an easy symbol," said Gonzales, who wears suspenders with his blue jeans. "It's a versatile symbol. Usually, you only get complaints when you destroy or damage or disfigure a real flag."
The armbands and the rigid poses of the characters work as symbols too, bouncing meanings off one another, but Gonzales also uses these images in his more playful and wry work. One early piece toys with the structure of the board game Chutes and Ladders, replacing the slides and rails with skulls and snakes.
"Skulls are another easy symbol," he explained. "They're versatile and can mean many things, but on the surface they only mean one thing."
Pick one: death, darkness, the inevitable -- the capsule that holds your brain. Whatever your choice, a skull catches the eye, provoking a visceral response. Gonzales uses them for all those reasons, but his love affair with skulls began when, as a boy, he coveted cheap plastic skull rings.
Now 53 years old, married and with six adopted children, a couple of dogs and an indeterminate number of cats, Gonzales still surrounds himself with skulls, plus a tin can of cicada shells here, a couple of skeletons there, a skull ring wrapped around the fleshy finger of the gag hand on his desk.
With a master of fine arts degree in metalwork, he can satisfy his yen for skull rings with works of art rather than trinkets. The ring on the rubber hand is his most recent creation: a gold band that sports a fossilized ivory skull the size of a thumbnail in its center, with an emerald on each side.
Skulls show up in his art, on his walls and in what he wears, but more personal symbols clutter his studio, a cozy but ample space with a black-and-white checkerboard floor. Stacks of ornate picture frames fill the space between tables and cabinets; professional portrait lights stand in the corner, framed by the aforementioned skeletons -- two of them, life-size. Paints, brushes and tools spill over several tables; boxes litter the center of the room, shoved away from his usual pathways.
On the long wall opposite his computer station, 4,000 or 5,000 record albums stand on edge on long shelves, among them "Cher's Golden Greats," "Urszula," "Los Panchos," "The Elton John Band Featuring John Lennon."
Sometimes Gonzales drops a 78 on his vintage Geisha gramophone. Sometimes he logs into eBay, looking for parts to use in building his own gramophone. Sometimes he plays his albums on his weekly radio show, "The Sound Dig," which airs from 10 p.m. to midnight Mondays on KRUA 88.1 FM.
Founded as a jazz show, "The Sound Dig" now follows a themed format. A few weeks ago, Gonzales played vile cover tunes, and last week, he did a pre-election show called "Lies, Prevarications and Bombasticies."
POLITICS AND INSPIRATION
Soft-spoken and deliberate, Gonzales speaks his mind. He loves jazz, cats, clocks, road trips with his family and John Waters films, though he hasn't seen "Pink Flamingos" yet. He hates complacency, complicity and neoconservative ideology, though he thinks it gives him good material for art. "The current administration is inspiring artists to come out and say something," he said. "Terrible administrations give us great art. Otherwise, we're looking at our belly button and expecting everyone to be interested in it."
Just months after the 2001 terrorist attacks, Gonzales threw himself into the ideological fray with a series of three-dimensional paper sculptures he calls "calaveras," or skull shapes. "La Calavar" refers to the skeleton of death, the principle symbol in the Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico. It represents the dead as playful because they intend to mimic the living, not terrorize them.
Gonzales has played with these themes in pieces like "Osama bin Jackson," a calavera about the size of an open textbook that features an image of $20 bill with Osama bin Laden's eyes plugged onto Andrew Jackson's face. Below that, a collage shows a tableau of human terror: Two mushroom clouds he calls "the Twin Towers of Hiroshima and Nagasaki" give way to a pile of corpses from the Wounded Knee massacre, which then bridges into an image of a revolver pointed at an Indian woman's head, which itself bursts into the flames of the World Trade Center.
A mob of ideas floats within that paper hanging, but in creating it, Gonzales mostly wanted to remind people that the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon weren't the first acts of aggression against Americans on American soil.
This piece and others showed at Kaladi Brothers Coffee Co. in late 2001. Much of that work delved into layers of meaning and political commentary, but Gonzales also poked fun at his own relentless desire to make art with a statement. He titled one calavera with decorative patterns "Sometimes a Calavera is Just a Calavera."
This folding, cutting and gluing of paper to exacting measures creates depth and builds masks, skulls and structures from the two-dimensional world of the computer screen. Advances in printer technology mean Gonzales has more and more papers and inks at his disposal.
"It's a pretty rich medium," Gonzales said, holding up a 3-D sculpture of his own rumpled face. "What really gets me, I think, is that it's so light and ephemeral and you can just crumble it up and throw it away."
You can also carry and build it anywhere in the world. He wants to put his work online someday so people thousands of miles away can download and assemble it. As he sees it, this democratization of art could circumvent the need for merchandising.
The computer, then, becomes both a source for the artist's materials and ideas and a place to which they can be returned -- a dialogue, if you will.
"Art is a communication, visual and emotional," he said. "Why bother if you're not communicating with people?"
With the computer and Internet, "you can wander around a huge store of images. Sometimes it leads you to an idea, or sometimes you have an idea and you need to find the parts and pieces."
Though he was featured in Decker's book "Icebreakers: Alaska's Most Innovative Artists," Gonzales doesn't do many shows now. He doesn't go to First Friday events. He finds openings and calls for proposals tiring, though the Anchorage Museum of History and Art, Loussac Library, the Alaska State Museum and other institutions include his work in their collections. He loathes the idea of making his work conform to someone else's specifications. His last museum exhibit was in 1989, and though he does a show every few years at the International Gallery of Contemporary Art, he sees most venues as safeguards for safe work, and safe work is not what he aims to do.
"Mariano is not an artist with a huge ego who is out there all the time saying, 'Look at me! Look at me!' " Decker said. "He's pretty quiet about his work.
"The sort of fanfare usually associated with an exhibition seems to be contrary to an artist's temperament, really; these are people who are exploring something that's pretty sensitive or who have sensitivities that keep them from putting themselves out there in a more direct or superficial way. That's definitely him."
THEATER POSTERS
Gonzales has, however, found a regular niche in which to display some of his images: Cyrano's Off Center Playhouse, perhaps the best and most accessible venue for anyone wishing to see his work. He began creating posters for Eccentric Theatre Company productions about four years ago and considers it steady, satisfying work that forces him to meet deadlines and produce work that people will see. He takes each job seriously, rigorously. He reads scripts and talks to directors for the right visual cues. His older work often incorporated actors in the frame, but his poster for ETC's latest production, "The Laramie Project," suggest humanity through environment.
The wistful, hopeful snapshot of a big blue sky and dense white clouds over a worn rural fence evokes the essence of what Matthew Shepard might have seen before he was beaten into a coma, said Sandy Harper, managing director for Cyrano's. The poster caught the play's tone so poignantly that the set designer used it as a guide for creating the final scene.
Other posters look more theatrical, such as those for "Proof," "Act" and "Hamlet." Virtually all of his poster work for Cyrano's hangs in the venue's sitting room, halls and bathrooms.
"His posters, although you maybe see a Mariano flavor to them all, each one is unique," Harper said.
The work certainly gives Gonzales focus, and perhaps it even alleviates some of his tension over world affairs. But someday, when the political tide changes and time allows, he wants to do a huge paper sculpture, perhaps 10 by 20 feet, with religious imagery, "something with lots of surface detail, but when you stand back, it comes together."
Something that people can see and admire without considering the process by which it got that way -- like the skeleton of an ancestor unearthed bone by bone.
Reporter Dawnell Smith can be reached at dsmith@adn.com.
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March-10th-2005, 09:48 PM
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#136
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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As many of you know, the Iditarod Sled Dog Race began last Saturday. For those of you who may want to follow the progress of The Last Great Race, here's a link which provides daily updates, photos and more.
Race officials were stunned today by the withdrawal of former five-time champion Rick Swenson, his first withdrawal in 29 starts. He was a top contender this year.
Bumpy Trail
Rachael Scdoris drives her team through bumpy muskeg Monday about 15 miles south of the Finger Lake checkpoint.
(Photo by JIM LAVRAKAS / Anchorage Daily News)

Image No. 4 of 62 | Published: March 10, 2005
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May-23rd-2005, 03:14 AM
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#137
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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I had hoped to provide the full story of this amazing discovery, as reported by Josh Niva, the young man who wrote the story about my JC project connected with SinginSumo. Things on the internet were acting up tonight, so I decided that some exposure was far better than none at all. Needless to say, describing this story as "amazing" is a bit of an understatement.
New Delta rhythm for Bush teens
Photo by BOB HALLINEN / Anchorage Daily News
Mamie Ulak, grandmother of Blood Family member
Jaye Ulak, walked uninvited onto the Cama-i stage
to tell the audience how proud she is of him.
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June-22nd-2005, 11:45 PM
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#138
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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100 years of fun in the Midnight Sun!
Summer Solstice occurred yesterday. That's not really news. However, it takes on some special significance in the Land of the Midnight Sun, especially in our Alaska Baseball League. Some of the finest college baseball players in the country travel north each summer to play baseball and experience the many pleasures of an Alaskan summer, including this 100 year old tradition ... The Midnight Sun Baseball Classic.
In Fairbanks, a baseball game begins at 10:30pm on June 21st, sometimes not concluding until 1:30-2:00am ... without the aid of artificial lighting. The same is true for Anchorage and other locations, though it all began in Fairbanks.
In Anchorage, our sun will "set" at 11:42 tonight, then rise again at 4:21am.
Play ball!
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June-23rd-2005, 07:17 AM
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#139
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holier than thou
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Cape Cod
Posts: 8,706
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Cool. Here on the Cape we have a similar baseball summer league, comprised of top college players. No midnight sun games, though.
Check it out.
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June-27th-2005, 09:51 AM
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#140
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Registered Osprey
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: DC (Taxation Without Representation)
Posts: 8,887
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New York Times Magazine
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Wild Night
By CINTHIA RITCHIE
The mosquitoes were the size of toads. At least that's what I say now. But they were big that summer, huge and hungry, swarming everything that moved. It was the mid-80's, and Anchorage had yet to be invaded by the big-box companies and the yuppie stores: Gap, Old Navy, Banana Republic. It was still smallish and homey, a place where neighbors brought over homemade muffins when you moved in. You could let your dog run loose; you could accidentally leave your wallet on the bus and someone would mail it to you one week later, with all the money intact and a small note taped to the side: ''Found this on the midtown bus and thought you might miss it.''
My boyfriend and I were out on the Resurrection Trail, sloshing through a dreary rain that showed no hope of letting up. I trudged behind him, complaining about the cold, the rough terrain, the way the mud splashed inside my boots. Just three weeks earlier, I moved here from a small desert town in Arizona, and I thought of myself as a gritty outdoors woman. I was used to dodging lizards on sandstone trails. Once, I had even been chased by wild pigs outside of Tucson. But this much green made me nervous. I felt claustrophobic, caged and as if we might walk forever and never reach our destination.
''Slow down,'' I screamed. ''My legs are shorter than yours.''
But he picked up the pace, his rifle thumping his hip in a way I found particularly annoying. To retaliate, I lagged farther and farther behind, my hat lost, my hair flapping my forehead. By the time I arrived at camp, the tent was set up and coffee was boiling over a miserable fire. We ate macaroni and cheese in damp silence. Even the dog knew better than to bark.
Later that night, after the rain stopped, I woke to an urgent slapping, as if something was trying to claw its way into the tent. I smacked my boyfriend awake.
''What's that?''
He perched up on one elbow.
''Skeeters,'' he said, and fell back to sleep. I lay in that dim summer twilight, the tent swaying and puckering from mosquito assault. Nothing could get me to go outside. Nothing.
But an hour later, I was rubbing bug dope over my face because I just had to go out. I don't know why. It was still light -- a haze that reminded me of childhood naps, and of how resentful I had felt at being ordered to sleep. I unzipped the tent flap, and at first the mosquitoes made me cower. The air smelled damp and sweet; the sky coated the trees in lavender shadows that were moody and undeniably beautiful. I headed for a nearby ridge, mosquitoes flying inside my mouth and stinging the tender areas around my eyes.
And then I saw the bear. It was snorting around the far corner of our campsite. I don't know how long it had been there, if it had been watching me or if it cared. I froze. This bear looked nothing like the glossy photographs in nature magazines. It smelled bad too, dark and spoiled, like rotten hamburger.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I stood paralyzed, as mosquitoes feasted on my neck and shoulders and the bear rooted around our campfire. Its awful face poked into the ashes, huffing from its nose.
Finally, it gave one last bellowing snort and lumbered off into the woods. I stood unmoving. I had wet myself. When I finally mustered the courage to crawl back into the tent, I huddled inside my sleeping bag, sobbing and picking at my swelling bites.
The next morning we broke camp and headed home early. I tramped through a chilling rain, too exhausted even to complain. I felt disillusioned and defeated. Alaska had flattened my resolve in one night.
Still, even then, during that cold and long hike back to the trail head, the seduction had begun, almost invisible at first: the touch of birch leaves against my neck, the feel of mud on my bare knee when I fell, the kiss of wind on my face.
Twenty years and countless hikes later, I've come to understand that hiking Alaska's back country is like suffering through a first date. It's uncomfortable at times, even painful, but also hauntingly provocative. Walking for hours without passing another person makes you feel as if you've shed your skin and become part of the rocks and ridges.
When we got back to Anchorage, I took a Magic Marker and counted my mosquito bites: 121, 122, 123. I patted each one possessively. They were my battle scars, my penance and my initiation into a world where bugs swarmed and bears reeked and the sky stayed stubbornly light all summer. I thought of the purple light of the woods, the smell of the rain, the look of the mountains on the drive home: wild and stark and boldly primitive. I thought of all this, and I itched until my eyes watered, and I couldn't stop. It was maddening, that itch. It was irresistible and glorious.
Cinthia Ritchie lives in Alaska, where she is a features writer and a columnist for The Anchorage Daily News.
Last edited by bluenoter; June-27th-2005 at 10:00 AM.
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June-27th-2005, 07:19 PM
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#141
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Unfocused User
Join Date: Apr 2003
Location: Somerville, MA
Posts: 4,841
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by Ron Thorne
In Anchorage, our sun will "set" at 11:42 tonight, then rise again at 4:21am.
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What's that playing surface? Astro-tundra?
Your post reminds me of summertime in my hometown of Marquette, Michigan. Marquette is located fairly far north (as far as the contiguous 48 go) and is also shoved over to the western end of the Eastern Time zone despite being due north of Chicago, so there's a bit of late daylight to go around. Sunset midsummer is around 9:45-9:50 PM, with a lot of twilight to go after that.
Anyhow, the city softball leagues scheduled three games per evening (sans lights): 5:15, 6:45, and 8:15, so the last games wrap up around 10:00, with plenty of light still remaining. Takes me back.
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June-28th-2005, 12:17 AM
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#142
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Alaska League Baseball
Quote:
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Originally Posted by bostontricky
What's that playing surface? Astro-tundra?
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Good guess, bt. The field in the photo is Growden Memorial Park in Fairbanks, and their infield areas are Astro-Turf with natural grass in the outfield.
I believe that the other parks in Kenai, Palmer and Anchorage are all-natural. And, most parks have stunning views for the players and fans alike. Here's a shot of Hermon Brothers Field in Palmer, 50 miles north of us.
The Anchorage field is Mulcahy Stadium, a bit tired but very nostalgic and fan-friendly. Here's a view from the grandstand.
I played ball in the old Mulcahy Park before it was torn down to make way for the new downtown fire station. I loved that old field.
Anchorage has two teams in the Alaska Baseball League, the Anchorage Glacier Pilots and the Anchorage Bucs. The Pilots and Bucs have each been National Baseball Congress World Series Champions many times, as have other Alaska teams, most notably the Fairbanks Goldpanners.
Former players in this six team league reads like a Who's Who in MLB, from Wally Joyner to Tom Seaver, Bump Wills, Chris Chambliss, Dave Winfield, Jeff Kent, Jason Giambi, Barry Bonds ... even Satchel Paige, both as a pitcher and coach.
Baseball in Alaska is short, but very sweet.
Last edited by Ron Thorne; June-28th-2005 at 12:18 AM.
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July-1st-2005, 08:14 PM
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#143
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Seeing is believing!
Click on this link and watch a very unusual short video. I'll just say that a young moose became very bold recently in Anchorage.
So did a black bear. Check this out!
Bruin's burglary unsettles residents of Hillside
STUCKAGAIN: Blackie runs off before man wielding sword finds it.

Tyler Saupe holds the sword he grabbed off his bedroom wall after he came home Tuesday evening and found that a black bear had broken into his family's Stuckagain Heights home. The bear tried to leave by the window behind him, tearing the screen and knocking over a lamp and planter. (Photo by JIM LAVRAKAS / Anchorage Daily News)

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By DOUG O'HARRA
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: June 30, 2005) Maybe the black bear visiting an Anchorage Hillside home Tuesday afternoon didn't slurp any porridge or nap in any beds. But the wayward bruin did rip a couch, tear window screens, bust a planter, sample sandwich rolls and lay a great, ripe pile on the living room's polished oak floor.
Bill Saupe likened the bear burglary of his Stuckagain Heights home to a sort of "Goldilocks in reverse."
His 21-year-old son, Tyler, who discovered the scat and destruction, said the incident was no fairy tale.
"I saw the bear poop on the floor and I was just kind of like, 'Oh, my god, there's a bear in the house!' " Tyler said Wednesday afternoon. "I put my hand down next to it to see if it was warm."
Hundreds of people have reported bears raiding garbage in Anchorage neighborhoods this summer, and nine black bears have so far been shot, captured or struck by vehicles. Compared to most of these incidents, the Saupe bear encounter was a strange one, with no obvious explanation.
Bears rarely break into Anchorage homes, though they will waltz through open doorways or into garages, especially if they smell food, said biologist Rick Sinnott with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game.
"Any time a bear breaks into a house," his said, "that's kind of crossing the invisible line where bears shouldn't be."
As a result, this bear will be killed if it shows up again, he said.
"I guess I do worry that now the bear has been in there and had a taste of food that he might be inclined to come back," Saupe said. "I think, all things considered, we were fortunate that it didn't do more damage and nobody got hurt."
The Saupes built the house 10 years ago and say they make a point of good bear habits: no garbage stored outdoors, grill locked up, no summer bird feeders. Bill Saupe said he saw a bear in the yard a few evenings ago. Water from cleaning sockeye salmon had been dumped in the grass last week, Tyler Saupe said.
On Tuesday, a window overlooking the deck was left open because some carpets were still wet from a cleaning. A fan ran on the stairs.
Tyler Saupe, a 2002 East High School graduate on summer break from college, returned about 6 p.m. from a shift on a framing crew. After he saw the poop, he dashed downstairs to his bedroom and armed himself with a short medieval sword and a curved dagger, both hanging on his wall as collector's items.
Tyler Saupe wasn't sure he would need to do battle. Maybe he'd just have to chase it away, he said.
"I definitely would have done something," he said. "He's definitely a bear, but I'm a 190-pound 21-year-old. It would have been interesting who would have gotten the best of the other. I definitely would have stood a chance."
His father doubts it.
"I told him how -- and I think he recognized it in retrospect -- how stupid that was and how ineffectual his weapons would have been," he said. "But I'm glad the bear was gone."
Tyler Saupe said it appeared as though the bear pushed through the window screen on the back deck, leaving a paw print on the wall, then circled through one room after another.
It ripped a screen and knocked stuff over in the living room, including Tyler's framed high school graduation photo. It sliced the couch and ripped another screen in the study but didn't disturb a music stand or computer. In the kitchen, it scattered hoagie rolls and scratched a stainless steel toaster. But it ignored tomatoes, fruit and a loaf of gourmet bakery bread.
Later that night, after the poop was cleaned away and the Saupes were making sausage-and-ham pizza, Tyler and Bill heard the family's two dogs barking from a backyard kennel.
A black bear, possibly the same one, was lurking by the woodpile. The two men banged on a wash tub, and it skittered up a tree.
A few minutes later, it dropped to the ground and fled into the woods.
Tyler said he was disappointed. This time he'd gone for his paint ball gun.
Daily News reporter Doug O'Harra can be reached at do'harra@adn.com.
Copyright © 2005 The Anchorage Daily News (www.adn.com)

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August-25th-2005, 02:16 AM
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#144
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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We Got Hammered!
I've been through some pretty severe storms, including several hurricanes in southern Florida and Hawaii, but nothing in Alaska in the summertime like what we witnessed on Monday night. At least not on our property.
In this morning's paper, there was a satellite photo of the storm system which nearly covered our entire state. Unbelievably huge! Most hurricanes are within the 200 mile wide category. This storm stretched for 1000 miles, top-to-bottom.
A satellite image of the storm shows what looks like a hurricane covering the entire state. But hurricanes are typically 100 to 200 miles wide, said National Weather Service meteorologist Bob Hopkins. This storm was more than 1,000 miles from north to south. National Weather Service
We're lucky that we have power, a roof and many other things. A very large (12" dia.) white birch tree came down over the power line serving our house, but didn't take it out, thanks to a willow tree which broke its fall. Another giant Cottonwood tree (60-70ft.) is uprooted on the back of our property and about to come down. Debris is everywhere.
A cottonwood tree dropped in the front yard of a home on Oklahoma Street in Muldoon. Photo by JIM LAVRAKAS / Anchorage Daily New
That's about the size of it . . . literally.
We had emergency crews from our power company using chain saws to relieve the pressure on our power line at about 1:45 this morning. It's still intact, but the service conduit pipe on our roof was severely bent by the impact of this huge tree falling on the line. Damn!
Now we have to endure the expense of a tree company coming out to clean up other potential hazards, as soon as they're available.
Richard Raynor drags the top of a 65-foot spruce tree out of the middle of Zodiak Drive on the Hillside on Tuesday. The tree came down in his yard when winds whipped the neighborhood. "We don't normally get high winds here," he said. "But we got them today." Photo by JIM LAVRAKAS / Anchorage Daily News
Outages blow through Southcentral
WIND: About 26,000 customers lost power; one house hit by falling tree.
By TATABOLINE BRANT
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: August 24, 2005) Thousands of dwellings from Anchorage to the Valley lost power Tuesday after a rare summer windstorm tangled trees and power lines across Southcentral Alaska.
Gusts as high as 80 mph whipped through Anchorage, kicking up litter and leaves and, in Muldoon, toppling a tree onto a house. No injuries were reported.
The three electric companies serving Anchorage and the Valley estimated that at least 26,000 of their customers lost power, although the actual number of people affected is likely higher because sometimes, a customer -- such as Fort Richardson, which lost power Tuesday -- represents more than one person.
About 7,500 Chugach Electric customers lost power at various times Tuesday, according to company spokeswoman Patti Bogan. As of 5 p.m., 200 to 300 customers in the Huffman, Spenard and Muldoon areas were still dark, she said.
Eleven crews were working on the problem, walking or driving along power lines in the neighborhoods to check for tree snags.
"We're finding a lot more damage out there than we thought," Bogan said.
Farther north, roughly 18,500 customers from Eagle River to Palmer lost power for about an hour and a half after a tree in the Powder Ridge area north of Eagle River fell into a high-voltage transmission line, said Mike Pauley, spokesman for Matanuska Electric Association.
Municipal Light and Power spokesman Gary Fife said about 300 ML&P customers lost power temporarily, including Fort Rich. The wind, he said, "is giving us quite a heck of a time."
Structural damage in Anchorage appeared to be minimal, although Carol Stroup said she was given quite a start when a tree fell on her Muldoon home as she was drinking her morning cup of coffee.
Stroup said she was looking out the window in the 1700 block of Kodiak Street, marveling at how hard it was blowing outside, when suddenly she heard a snap and a tree in the front yard landed on the house, covering the window with leaves.
"I was just amazed," she said. "It was just like slow motion. You didn't have time to do anything."
All in all, the windstorm did not unleash the kind of havoc the city saw during the March 2003 windstorm. Lake Hood manager Andy Hutzel said Tuesday's winds prompted "nothing out of the ordinary" at the busy seaplane base.
The 2003 storm, which tipped 18 planes at the lake, shut down the international airport nearby and tore up buildings across town, taught everyone to stay on their toes, Hutzel said.
"We had quite a few planes damaged then. Now as soon as we get these southeast winds at 35 to 40 knots, everyone's starting to come out immediately without us calling them."
Daily News reporter Tataboline Brant can be reached at tbrant@adn.com or 257-4321. Reporters Zaz Hollander and Katie Pesznecker contributed to this story.
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November-5th-2005, 02:18 AM
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#145
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Excuse me, but where else would you find a photo such as this within a metropolitan area of North America? Yesterday, on the front page, we saw two bull moose squaring off with their racks entangled in a Fall rutting display.
A bull moose jumps a fence after browsing in a garden
Nov. 1st at 14th Avenue and "I" Street near downtown.
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November-5th-2005, 02:28 AM
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#146
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Here's the photo to which I referred earlier of two bull moose locking horns. Again, this was well within our city ... in a park.
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November-7th-2005, 04:14 PM
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#147
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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They're everywhere, they're everywhere!
A bull and cow moose silhouetted by headlights during morning snowfall were
worth capturing on video for one motorist, who waited for the animals to cross
Raspberry Road near the entrance to Kincaid Park.
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November-12th-2005, 03:14 PM
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#148
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Registered User
Join Date: Mar 2003
Posts: 8,641
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OK Mr. Thorne...what's your take on this?
Alaska's Governor Gets Sleek Jet
Critics Say $2.6 Million Aircraft Is Unusable on Many Airstrips
APAlaska Gov. Frank Murkowski, elected in 2002, faces low approval ratings in state polls.
ANCHORAGE, Alaska (Nov. 11) - Critics have dubbed it "Bald Ego," "Murky's Turkey" and "Incontinental Airlines," but Alaska Gov. Frank Murkowski finally has the sleek executive jet he says he and other state officials need.
The $2.6 million Westwind aircraft, equipped with a leather sofa, burgundy carpeting and a flush toilet, arrived this week in Anchorage and will replace a no-frills turboprop used by previous Alaska governors for official business.
Critics say Murkowski's jet is unusable in much of rural Alaska, where runways are too short and made of gravel or nonexistent.
Murkowski press secretary Becky Hultberg defended the purchase, saying the Republican governor believes that "this is an aircraft that Alaska needs as one of the most aviation-dependent states in the nation."
Alaska, which has a $30 billion oil-wealth savings account, is in better financial shape than most U.S. states. But the jet purchase has been cited as one reason for the former banker's low approval ratings.
Polls show him to be the nation's second-most-unpopular governor, topped only by Ohio Republican Gov. Robert Taft.
"Bald Ego" was the winner in a name-the-jet contest held by an Anchorage radio station. Runners-up included "Murky's Turkey" and, in a reference to the governor's complaints about the lack of a bathroom on the turboprop, "Incontinental Airlines."
Elected governor in 2002, Murkowski, a Republican, served as U.S. senator from Alaska from 1981 until 2003.
11/11/05 18:41 ET
Copyright 2005 Reuters Limited
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November-13th-2005, 12:05 AM
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#149
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Happy 50th, Alaska!
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Anchorage, Alaska
Posts: 16,982
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by Mike Schwartz
OK Mr. Thorne...what's your take on this?
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Don't get me started, Mike!
I'll be kind and state that he's a complete and utter jerk, who's always had his own interests above his constituents. We didn't like or respect him as a U.S. Senator, and he's done far more harm as our governor.
Once Gov. Murkowski had a "woodrow" for a jet, nothing would stop him, including public outcries.
Patti and I heard a few more suggested names for the governor's new plane today, including. . . Arrogance One and Nepotism One. Frank's daughter, Lisa, now occupies his former seat in the U.S. Senate, thus the latter choice.
He'll be strongly challenged if he decides to run again, especially within his own party. That's a very good thing!
Here's a local take on the issue from The Anchorage Daily News.
State's new jet could touch down today
TURBULENCE: Critics have contended the $2.7 million plane isn't needed.

The Westwind II executive jet recently purchased by Gov. Frank Murkowski on behalf of the state has a new paint job that differs from the one in the photo. ( Courtesy Aircraft Marketing)
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By SEAN COCKERHAM
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: November 8, 2005) JUNEAU -- Alaskans might want to look up if they hear the sound of a jet airplane in the next few days: It could be the governor traveling in the state's new executive ride.
The state on Monday took possession of the $2.7 million Westwind II in Lincoln, Neb. The jet could arrive in Alaska as soon as today, state officials said.
The acquisition caps more than a year of political controversy, with Gov. Frank Murkowski insisting on the jet despite widespread opposition from other politicians and the public.
Murkowski and the Alaska Department of Public Safety will both use the nine-passenger aircraft.
Murkowski spokeswoman Becky Hultberg said she could not say when the governor will start flying on the Westwind. She referred such questions to Public Safety Commissioner Bill Tandeske.
"The governor could make use of the aircraft immediately if there is a need. ... It would not be unreasonable to assume he may be on the jet within the next couple weeks," Tandeske said in an e-mail.
Tandeske has said his department can use the jet to hightail it to emergencies or, more routinely, to transport prisoners to a private prison in Arizona that houses Alaska's excess inmates.
Tandeske said in an interview Monday that the jet will make its first prison run to Arizona soon. But he said that for security reasons he couldn't give specifics on that.
Critics have argued loud and often that a corporate jet is too luxurious for convicts or the governor. The 1984 Israeli-made Westwind II has a cream leather divan, burgundy carpeting, a cabin stereo system and a flush toilet -- unlike the state-owned turboprops the governor currently uses.
Murkowski has argued it makes sense for a state as big as Alaska to have a jet for public safety as well as to save time as he frequently travels on state business. The maximum speed of a Westwind II is listed at more than 500 mph.
Jet opponents, questioning the jet's utility, say it couldn't handle short gravel runways in the Bush. The Public Safety Department said it would fly people to regional hubs where they could get other transportation to smaller locales, just as troopers do now with the turboprops.
Murkowski first tried to get the jet last year with $2 million in federal Homeland Security funds. The federal government said no.
The Republican governor then included state money to lease a jet in his budget proposal to the Legislature. Republican-controlled subcommittees in the state House and Senate took the money out of the budget, saying their constituents opposed the jet.
Murkowski said he would get the jet anyway using his powers to move around state funds. Legislative Democrats tried to get no-jet language into the budget in a final attempt to stop him. But the majority Republicans refused to go that far.
The state signed a contract this summer to buy the jet from O. Bruton Smith, a North Carolina auto-racing tycoon. It has been owned by the Land's End catalogue company, among others. The jet has been in Nebraska for renovations and inspections over the past few weeks.
The state added police/emergency radio capability and a cold-weather package for the Alaska climate that includes an engine heater, said Dan Spencer, administrative services director for the Public Safety Department. It also added a seat belt for the toilet seat, as required by law for takeoffs, Spencer said.
Spencer said the state also made some minor repairs, like replacing rivets.
"Rivets are $800 a pop. ... Nothing on a jet is less than $800, as far as I can tell," said Spencer, who is in charge of paying the bills.
Spencer said the state has put about $95,000 into the repairs and upgrades.
That's on top of the $2.6 million purchase cost and the $97,600 for training four Alaska State Troopers pilots to fly it. The state is paying the jet bills using a line of credit with Key Bank. The state plans to sell one of its King Air turboprops to raise a half-million dollars or so to put toward the cost.
Daily News reporter Sean Cockerham can be reached at sockerham@adn.com.
Copyright © 2005 The Anchorage Daily News (www.adn.com)

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November-13th-2005, 07:49 AM
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#150
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holier than thou
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Cape Cod
Posts: 8,706
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I'm not trying to be funny, but wouldn't a helicoptor have made more sense? Mybe they're more expensive?
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