Bright Silver Salmon. Juneau, Alaska. August brings Coho Salmon, aka Silver Salmon, flooding back to the streams of Southeast Alaska. Glistening, powerful fish, I love wading out to fly fish or spin fish in the saltwater channels.
Follow the lives and deaths of salmon if you want to trace the paths of nutrients & energy in Alaska ecosystems. Salmon feed everyone-humans, bears, gulls, eagles, shorebirds, other fish, insects, crabs. EVERYTHING.
And salmon die in the streams after spawning, bringing nutrients to forests and other streamside plant communities.
I thank the salmon when they give their lives to me. Eating these salmon unites me with their lives and the endless circle of my generations and theirs. The salmon and I are one with the landscape.
Auke Lake (Áak’w in Tlingit, literally ‘little lake’). Juneau, Alaska. Beyond the lake low black line of hills, the Coast Range mountains rise above Mendenhall Glacier.
This one day of mirrors and mountains and water remains one of my best memories of Juneau.
Steller’s Jay – 4 Hatchlings just out of their eggs
4 Steller’s Jay Chicks hatched from eggs outside our window yesterday (May 4)!
Steller’s Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri). Juneau, Alaska.
Quick photo taken while female was away from nest to get food.
These are “hatchlings”. They do not have feathers or down, just bare skin.
Their eyes are still closed.
When they grow fine down and open their eyes in a few days, they will be called “nestlings”.
Steller’s Jay perches on our porch, guarding nest. Mount Jumbo (Mount Bradley) in background. Juneau, Alaska.
The male & female built their nest just 60 cm (24 inches) from our window on April 14.
Since then, the female has sat on the nest. She left sometimes to find food, but the male also helped feed her.
We can’t see into the dark nest, and it is highly backlit, so photography is difficult.
I bought a Selfie Stick (my first) that lets me extend my phone to the nest through our window.
I’m using my iphone & a Bluetooth remote trigger.
Uncle Bill and Aunt Kate have new family members!
Steller’s Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri): Cyanocitta is a genus in the same family as crows and ravens.refers tor the deep blue color.
“Stelleri” is for Georg Wilhelm Steller, a German botanist, zoologist, physician and explorer, who sailed with Vitus Bering on his 2nd voyage in 1741, pioneer of Alaskan natural history.
Steller’s name is attached to species as diverse as sea lions & this lovely jay.
The male & female built their nest just 60 cm (24 inches) from our window on April 14.
Since then, the female has sat on the nest. She left sometimes to find food, but the male also helped feed her.
We can’t see into the dark nest, and it is highly backlit, so photography is difficult.
I bought a Selfie Stick (my first) that lets me extend my phone to the nest through our window.
I’m using my iphone & a Bluetooth remote trigger.
CLICK IMAGE Video as I explore a Fabulous Blue Ice Cave. Feel the satin of ice, strangely warm to touch.
Click image for video: This fabulous blue ice cave that I explored in 2017 has vanished. Feel the satin of ice, strangely warm to touch. Look through 1.2 meters (4 ft.) of clear ice. Mendenhall Glacier, Juneau, Alaska.
I mountain biked across frozen Mendenhall Lake in February 2017 to visit this ice cave.
Completely alone in the cave, I had time to sit quietly with the sound of flowing water, surrounded by shimmering blue walls. Eventually, I narrated this short reflection on a place that would disappear forever.
I visited the cave several more times in February, finding crystal boulders of ice that had fallen from the roof.
The cave has completely vanished as the glacier melts and retreats, melted into water that fed Mendenhall Lake and river last summer, an ephemeral creation and ghost of changing climate and rapid glacial retreat.
Over the next couple of Alaska Billy Blog posts, I’ll continue with more photos and thoughts about this cave and the Mendenhall Glacier.
For additional photos and stories, please visit me on Instagram. I post one photo and story each day.
Western Hemlock is the most abundant tree species in Southeast Alaska.
Western Hemlock is the most abundant tree species in Southeast Alaska. It can reach an age of over 1,200 years, a height greater than 70 m (230 feet), and a diameter over 2.7 m (9 feet).
Wind is the primary cause of disturbance in the Pacific Coastal Temperate Rainforest of Southeast Alaska. Wildfires are infrequent and generally small due to the high rainfall, which ranges from 127 cm (50 inches) to over 508 cm (200 inches) per year.
Windthrown Old-growth Hemlock
Storms can windthrow large patches of timber, but in old-growth forest (generally over 300 years old), most openings are very small, averaging less than 0.8 hectares (2 acres). With small openings, the pattern of trees in mature forest is a mixture of sizes and ages.
The Western Hemlock tree in the photo has been broken by wind. Because bedrock is close to the surface resulting in thin soils and shallow roots, trees often are uprooted by the wind. Since this tree broke, we know its roots were strong.
It’s easy to focus only on the beautiful green forest of living trees when we walk in the woods. But both standing dead trees and logs on the ground are extremely important ecological parts of the forest.
Many wildlife species depend on dead wood for food, shelter, nesting, perching, and escape from predators. As you hike through the forest, take time to observe the many forms of dead wood. Look for the evidence of use by wildlife.
Like so many of the features of the forest, the values of dead wood also create high quality fish habitat.
CLICK PHOTO TO VIEW VIDEO: Nugget Falls cascades into Mendenhall Lake; Mendenhall Glacier in distance
Nugget Falls roars into Mendenhall Lake, Juneau, Alaska. Follow the creek as it flows into Mendenhall Lake (frozen), and you can see the foot of the Mendenhall Glacier in the distance.
The snowy peak prodding the blue sky is Mount Stroller White (1,570 m; 5,150 ft). The forested ridgeline in front of Stroller White that ascends to the left is one of the shoulders of Mt. McGinnis (1,289 m; 4,228 ft).
Nugget Creek arises from Nugget Glacier, flowing down a valley that separates Mount Bullard (1,288 meters; 4,225 ft.) from Heintzleman Ridge. My IG Post from 11/27/2017 shows me on cross country skis with Mount Bullard in the background.
A dam and a 198-meter (650-foot) long tunnel were constructed by the Treadwell Company during the heyday of early hardrock gold mining in Juneau. This hydroelectric facility provided electricity from 1912 to 1943, just one of a number of hydroelectric plants that put Juneau at the forefront of early industrial use of electricity, including electric locomotives.
Nugget Falls is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Juneau along with the Mendenhall Glacier. It’s also one of our favorite 30-minute hikes of exceptional beauty and the power of the waterfall.
CLICK PHOTO for video of Juneau Icefield from Helicopter
Video-Juneau Icefield viewed from Astar 119 helicopter just above Taku Inlet, probably over Norris Glacier. The helicopter pilot is our son, Rion Hanson. Although named the Juneau Icefield, it extends 140 km (87 mi) north to south and 75 km (47 mi) east to west, making it the 4th largest icefield in the Northern Hemisphere.
Era Helicopters has a dog sledding camp on the icefield for summertime tours, with access only by helicopter. I’ve flown over different parts of the icefield during the last 40 years, and it remains one of the most astoundingly beautiful places I’ve seen. At its thickest, the ice is 1,400-meters (4,590 ft.) deep!
While valley glaciers like the Mendenhall, Eagle, Herbert, and Taku Glaciers near Juneau flow down close to sea level, the vast ice field is completely invisible from saltwater and cities.
Fog rises as the Mendenhall River flows out of Mendenhall Lake. The water is clearing up now that winter is setting in. Kate Troll, Nellie the Sheltie, and I skied around the shoreline of Mendenhall Lake to the outlet where the Mendenhall River originates.
Glacial rivers change radically from summer to winter. With summer warming, the melting glacier greatly increases the river flow, making the Mendenhall River a whitewater rafting destination for tourists. Silt from the glacier turns the water an opaque gray, and rafters can hear the hiss of silt against the rafts. In winter, flow is much less, and water more clear.
Mendenhall Glacier also causes jökulhlaups (an Icelandic term), glacial outburst floods. Meltwater builds up under the glacier, trapped by ice dams. When the ice dam melts away or breaks, the water bursts out, causing the Mendenhall River rise to flood stage very quickly. These jökulhlaups have become more predictable with sensors placed under the glacier to monitor water build-up.
Mendenhall River & Mount Bullard (1,288 meters; 4,225 ft.) behind Bill Hanson. I’m standing about 6 meters (20 feet) above sea level.
Kate Troll, Nellie the Sheltie, and I skied around the shoreline of Mendenhall Lake a few days ago to the outlet where the Mendenhall River originates.
A little over a century ago, we would have been under the ice of the Mendenhall Glacier in this spot. Today, the glacier is 3.5 Km (2.2 miles) away and receding rapidly. Sometime in the next few years, it will no longer touch Mendenhall Lake, and icebergs will disappear.
Snow was beautiful, but has now given way to light rain. I’m thankful that I skied when the skiing was wonderful. Like many other places in Juneau, we treasure the beauty of our landscape—a new, magical view with nearly every kick of the skis.
We tried skiing on the lake and ran into slushy overflow beneath pristine fluffy snow. First job – scraping ice caked on our skis. Second—adjusting plan to ski the shoreline. Kate and I both have waxing skis. Mine are about 45 years old (!)—Fisher Europa 77’s—sort of like driving a steam-powered car—heavy and long, but still have camber and metal edges, so I like them fine.
Our home sits on a steep hill above the saltwater, so we don’t have a back yard. I grow a few veggies in 0.9 x 2.4 m (3 x 8 ft.) box beds in our driveway.
2017 Bill Hanson with Carrots and Golden Beets from Box Beds
To make room for snowplowing, I move them back from the road. They’re around 1,000 kg (2,200 lbs.) each so it takes a bit of finagling with a floor jack, pvc pipe, a couple of heavy pry bars, maul, and heavy rope.
Moving Garden beds away from snow plowsTools for moving 1-ton garden boxes. Floor jack, heavy pry bars, maul, and heavy rope. PVC pipe-see other photos.
2017 Box Bed with Beets and Carrots
Fortunately, @katetroll is very strong. The two of us can hand push, coax, pry, and torture the beds into safety adjacent to our flower garden. With lots of travel this year, we moved beds during the first snowfall of the year.
