Chapter X - The Wild Frontier (December 2022)

CHAPTER X

The Wild Frontier

(December 2022) 

            We’re approaching our 18-months in Alaska. And they haven’t gotten old — those

frequent reminders that this really is a wild frontier. The moose still play a role in that

feeling. You drive down the road. And there’s a cow with her calf.

            Or, I’m hiking in a nearby woods. When I encounter this cow moose on the trail.

Devouring leaves ahead of winter fast approaching. (We meet moose a couple times a

month on average, I’d say.)

            The moose and I have a long look at one another. Then, deciding to avoid

confrontation, I turn back the way I came. But next thing I know that moose is running

down the trail after me.

            Startled. I jump behind a tree and reach for my bear spray. But the moose

just gives me the eye, and trots on by.  Far more interested — I realize — in a dog now

coming our way.

            And now it’s the dog who’s startled. Then, stared down by the moose, the dog goes

bounding away. And the moose continues foraging for winter.

            The number of cars crashing into moose is staggering. There are about 800 moose

killed by auto in Alaska every year. With about 120 of those kills in Anchorage alone.

            All the more reason not to be an idiot. And flee the cops in a high speed chase on your motorcycle.

            Bears are a big part of the local scene. Most of them don’t mind humans, or bother

them. But they proliferate up here. And things get nasty when we invade each others’

space. Last Spring one of our soldiers was killed, and another badly mauled, when they ran

into a mother grizzly with two cubs.

            Recently a gal got swatted — but not much hurt — by a black bear on a trail we

often hike.

            Hunters and campers have run-ins with bears.

            A mother bear and her three nearly grown cubs were “euthanized” after they settled

into a local neighborhood and wouldn’t leave. Five bears were put down when they hung

about an Anchorage homeless camp. None of these bears had hurt anyone. But when bears

get too cozy with humans things can turn dangerous.

            Earthquakes are common up here. The most famous — the “Good Friday” quake —

hit Alaska in 1964. It was 9.2 on the Richter scale and lasted nearly 5 minutes. A big chunk

of Anchorage sank in the ocean. The ensuing tsunami and earth slides did massive damage

to several towns. And 131 people died.

            There’s been no quake that powerful since. Thank Heaven. But Alaska lies on the

Aleutian Trench and fault line. And stout quakes and tremors are a regular thing. In 2018,

a 7.1 quake hit Anchorage (with injuries and property damage, but no fatalities). We’ve felt

several “seismic events” during our mission. We often get news flashes like those below.

            Dodgy. That’s a word we learned in England. Meaning risky, shaky or hazardous.

Earthquakes give Alaska a dodgy feel. As does the air traffic.

         So much of Alaska is accessible only by plane. Kids in high school can get their

pilots’ license — and a lot of the characters flying planes seem pretty dodgy. As do the

planes themselves. Alaska has roughly 100 plane crashes per year. With headlines like

these common:

            This list of wild dodgy things in Alaska is long. Much of the world has lovely

beaches. The Anchorage Area has deadly mudflats.

            And, for some reason, the Alaska frontier seems to draw crazy people. There’s a set

of apartments right behind where we live. One day not long ago, the cops and firemen arrive. Sirens 

blaring. One of our neighbors in those apartments has asked someone for a cigarette. They told him no. So 

the fellow set the apartment building on fire.  I took this photo of the aftermath.

            Some months ago a nice young Army soldier at JBER, named Jesse Barrientos, was

baptized and joined the Church. A few weeks later he’s riding down the highway a few

miles from where we live. His friend is driving, and Jesse is in the front passenger seat.

When some nutcase on the overpass starts shooting at traffic. One bullet hits the car of

Jesse and his friend from behind. The bullet passes through the headrest of the seat Jesse’s

sitting in. And lodges in Jesse’s left shoulder blade just below the neck.

            As of this writing, dear Jesse has had surgery. And it’s not clear whether there will

be permanent damage.

            Here’s a picture of Doll, Jesse, and a friend from the ward. Along with a news article

about the incident.