Goodbye Alaska

12/31/2014

I leave Cordova in much the same way I arrived: rain sluicing sideways all night at my window, hurled by some hell-bent fury of a wind. It has calmed this morning enough to fly the short hop to Anchorage where I’ll spend NY Eve, likely fast asleep unless the revelry is intrusive. I’ve loved being here; it has been everything I wanted and needed, but I’m ready to go home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would love to have told you about the history here, the copper, silver and gold mines that kindled this settlement and many others up this way; the railroad and the million dollar bridge that used to connect Cordova to the treasure in the mountains; the native heritage and craftsmanship that predates our industrial revolution and invasion of their homeland. I revisited the Exxon Valdez disaster through the scientists at the Prince William Science Center down at the harbor, learned how the herring have not rebounded since that awful day in 1989 when 11 million barrels of crude poisoned these pristine waters and killed so many of the creatures who called it their home. Without the base of the food chain, so many of the other species have lagged behind, still, 25 years later: prized king salmon have never gotten past 20% of their previous numbers, which is reflected in their $40 per pound price.

 

I wanted to share the geography of the Copper River Delta that drains these stark, stunning mountains: it’s so large you can see it on aerial photos from space. When I finally got to hike the 900 vertical feet up the ski hill I could see it 36 miles away, stretching its arms out to the Bay of Alaska. These meadows are home to one of the largest shorebird migrations on the planet, celebrated by thousands of people who arrive every spring expressly to watch. We could have discussed the orcas that sometimes frolic in the bay, and sea otters doing the backstroke just off shore, blinking their long eyelashes beguilingly at me then dunking out of sight.

I logged 25 days this month, 24/7 ER call for 21 of them, but I have not been overworked. It does take some effort to relax when you know you might be called back at any moment, but you get better with practice. It’s a mindset I had for 20 years of private practice. Trauma, infectious disease, chest pain and COPD, rashes and lumps—these are pretty much the bread and butter of any ER roster. Most of the patients I was able to care for here, but I did medevac a handful of critical cases out to Anchorage. And not one dang stitch or minor surgery. I suspect up here they sew themselves up…

I investigated all these curiosities and more, but, I’m out of time in telling the tale. And perhaps you’re out of patience with my meanderings. If not, I will let you know when I’m off on another adventure. Until then, Happy New Year, and I thank each and every one of you for coming along for the ride, and for your comments. Though I have been living alone for a month, you have peopled my world.

MJ