Rare Finds

Still hopeful amidst patches of green without red...

RARE FINDS. Ahhhh, my friends. It's been a little while. I've realized of late that saying, "I hope this finds you well," is a bit of an insensitive phrase. Amidst world leader chaos, natural disaster chaos, and potential unique-to-your-family chaos, "well" becomes quite subjective. So I say, "I hope this finds you moving through the world with as much grace as you can muster," and I thank you for taking time to read this. Believe it or not, the Earth still lives and breathes reasonable seasons and adventures and hopes up here in Alaska... which is why I love to share it with you.

Today a crew of us strolled along a lake-side trail attempting to pick low bush cranberries. Always the story teller, I began, "When we first moved up here, I was really good about making posts to my blog... everything was novel. But now Alaska is home, Alaska is the norm, so I really need to be inspired. There has to be a series of events that tie together in a nice little bow that make me say, 'Ha! I could write a blog post about all this!!'" We were hiking farther and farther, tin pails making hollow clinking noises as they swung back and forth from our frost-nipped fingers, and it became clear that the berries were not going to be easily found. The normal patches of waxy little green leaves were there, but not a single red ruby was attached. For whatever reason, this cranberry picking venture was going to be more challenging than anticipated, and the satisfying pluck of firm round goodness would be a rare find indeed...

A BOOT. Back at the beginning of June, our family invited a friend of Indigo's, Emerson, to join us on a backpacking trip to the Caines Head area along Resurrection Bay. You, my dear blog followers, have been here before - the Charging Snails hiked this same trail a few years back, before Team Leslie lived in Seward. Par for the course, it was raining on us yet again and we picked and slipped and dripped our way down miles of beach, hoping for a start of summer miracle.

Rain? We mock you!

After a surreal period of time in the mist with a whale exhaling in a noisy but beautiful show a few dozen feet to our port side, the sun did come out and we were treated to a glorious 24 hours of bluebird amazingness. Indigo and Emerson increased their pace, led us through verdant rain forest, and enthusiastically helped set up camp along a creek near the beach.

We have arrived!

While the grownups dove into the box wine and relaxed in the sun, the kiddos mucked around in the creek until they scrambled up the embankment with a find: A boot. And not just a discarded hiking boot with a flopping sole... this thing was old. A closer look at the leather stamp near the top revealed that it was 84 years old to be exact!

I spy really handy valuable info about this boot!

What followed was one of the more authentic history learning moments ever. Indigo and Emerson had just wrapped up a "Seward History" unit as part of their elementary school studies, and their ideas about the boot were free flowing:

"The Lowell Family homesteaded near here - maybe it belonged to one of them..."

"Or maybe it was someone stationed out here at Fort McGilvray during WWII..."

"This area was logged back then too - maybe it's a logger's boot..."

Then came the debate of why a perfectly good boot, probably hard to get in Alaska almost a century ago, would be left behind to begin with. A tentative peek and grope into the far reaches of the toe confirmed that no part of the owner was there - phew.

In the end, we decided to hike the boot out (each person taking it for 2 miles, even Steven) and bring it to the Seward Community Library Museum to get their take on it. At our appointment several weeks later, the Resurrection Bay Historical Society museum curator interviewed Indigo and Emerson, thoroughly examined the boot, and was legitimately excited about the find. She gently wrapped it in archival acid-free paper, lowered it into a labeled box, and had us sign paperwork agreeing to loan it for display in the museum, after the rest of the Society members reviewed it.

Indeed I got a call from someone a few weeks later with an update: The good news was that the Society was interested in the boot and wanted to send a group out to the site of the find to explore and potentially find other artifacts from the same historical context. The bad news was that we had removed an object from State property and as such, it needed to be handed back over to the State. Argh! Foiled! So the boot is currently awaiting further review, and with some luck, will be loaned back to the Society so its story and its discovery by local kiddos can enrich our little town's museum. Stay tuned!

A FOSSIL. So this particular "rare find" is not our own, but one of our young friend's here in Seward. To say that Kai is a budding scientist would be putting it lightly. Kai explores, discovers, and understands the workings of the world about as well as any of us can. And this summer, he, too, found something old. Something ancient actually.

While on a family day at the beach near Homer, Kai noticed an unusual rock. He had found small fossils on this beach before, and thought this might be a piece of petrified wood... until he noticed it had teeth. Come to find out, Kai had discovered a 10 million year old fossilized jaw of a mammal called a tapir, possibly the only mammalian fossil from that time period ever found in Alaska. Wowzers.

Kai and his fossil.

I spy teeth!

Homer News covered the story and if you're interested in knowing more, you can read it here.

A BABY WALRUS. Yup. A baby walrus. I admit the initial finding of this incredible creature is a sad one. According to a June 20th post by the Alaska Sea Life Center here in Seward, 

The calf, estimated to be about 2 weeks old and weighing 55 kg (120 pounds), hauled out onto a gold mining barge several miles outside of Nome. The crew returned to Nome for the night and found the animal was still on board the next day.

The article goes on to explain the rescue and transport of the baby walrus to Seward where a team of scientists and caregivers quickly went to work. Dr. Carrie Goertz, ASLC staff veterinarian, shares,

“Walrus are incredibly tactile, social animals. Calves typically spend about two years with their mothers, so we have to step in to provide that substitute care and companionship. This includes round-the-clock physical contact and care from staff.”  

So Team Leslie has been able to pop down the street to the Sea Life Center throughout the summer and fall to watch the baby walrus heal and grow! Indeed, for a long time he needed to have a human cuddle him 24/7, to mimic the contact and attention he should have gotten from his walrus family in the wild.

Who knew a baby walrus could be so freakin' lovey dovey!?!?!

Even though the baby walrus recovered from his early life ordeal amazingly well, it was never in the cards for him to return to the wild; as the Sea Life Center explains, 

Due to the high level of maternal investment in the wild, walrus calves are not candidates for release following rehabilitation.

So this past weekend we went to say our goodbyes to the baby walrus. Word on the street is that he will be traveling to SeaWorld Orlando to join another baby walrus, also born in June 2017, and begin to form the necessary bonds with his own kind. Safe travels, baby walrus!!

A BABY BELUGA. Our frequent visits to the Sea Life Center won't be stopping any time soon though. Why not, you ask? "Baaaaaa-beee... Baluuuuuuuga..." Early in October the Sea Life Center got another rare find. This time, a male beluga whale calf stranded along the Cook Inlet. He is currently in critical condition with three or four people giving him round the clock care. With some luck, a future blog post will feature the smiling fellow. Wish him luck!