Transitional Spaces

Generally, I have an almost non-existent relationship with passive entertainment. Your typical couch potato activities, that is. I’ve never owned a TV, never paid for cable, don’t play video games or spend time on social media. At one point in my life I used to watch a lot of movies, but that was a long time ago. This past year, the year of binge watch marathons worldwide, I’m pretty sure I saw less than 10 films, and only fractions of seasonal shows. I can’t even remember the last movie I watched, but don’t think it was in 2021.

This past winter, however, I’ve developed an unsought YouTube habit. Not sure how or why it started, but it’s the truth, and I’m coming clean. It usually creeps up on me at the end of each day, around 9 p.m. By that time my brain and body are shutting down, but it’s not quite time for sleep. Can’t read anymore, already exercised out, played all the guitar I could muster… And out comes the phone, that awful little bugger. Often, the routine will start off well-intentioned. Initially, I’ll usually try to be somewhat productive. The first video or two will be in Spanish, or have something to do with music. Eventually, I’ll make my way into comedy. Try to get in a few laughs before bedtime. If motivated, I might start that off in Spanish as well—Carlos Ballarta, La India Yuridia, Alan Saldaña—if I can understand 80% of the jokes and catch a few in-the-know Mexican culture references I feel pretty good about it. Failing motivation, however, it’s usually into some Bill Burr, maybe a bit of Chappelle. Straightforward no-nonsense calling out of cancel culture and conservative conspirators alike. The truth is in the middle—if either one of those two things exist—and the reality really isn’t funny at all, but at least these guys can make us laugh about it.

But then, almost inevitably, comes the slide. I don’t often go down the recognized YT Rabbit Hole, but the algorithms have me figured out the same as everyone else. I usually manage to maintain some kind of category focus, but that’s about the only semblance of self-restraint I can claim. There is commonly a slight shift from one type of comedy to another, maybe over to a night-show monologue. You know, get a little daily news in. No less slanted or biased than any network these days, so might as well go with the lighthearted version. After that, about the time I really should be getting into some teeth brushing, what has apparently become a guilty pleasure/curious nemesis takes hold. Sometimes for a couple of videos, sometimes for a whole string of them. I’ve yet to remain captive past midnight, but it’s been close.

I think it all started with cop videos. As in real ones. The body cam captures of crazies, criminals, and constant haters, and all the people and seedy situations police officers deal with on a regular basis. Why or when I started watching these channels, I’m not exactly sure. Perhaps it was searching for another side to a now popular narrative, or maybe it was some really good clickbait. I do have this to say, however, I would recommend watching a couple hours of these videos to everyone.

I’m guessing most of us have a fairly ambiguous view of police officers, they’re good when we might need them, but defiled if they’re holding us personally accountable for something—spoiling our fun or slowing down a commute. Watching certain versions of the news these days sees them constantly demonized, and it is both acceptable and prevalent in pop culture to portray cops as a united enemy to be opposed. And violently opposed at that. There is even blather about defunding departments and eliminating entire forces. Which is why, I would suggest, that before considering joining into any of those conversations a person should sit down and watch some YouTube. Afterwards and during, one might consider what society would actually be like without any means to enforce the laws that most of us agree allow our world to function. That is without the thousands of decent men and women who work at a thankless and potentially fatal occupation dealing with entitled assholes and violent criminals alike. Certainly caused me to soften up a bit. I know I wouldn’t want any part of that job. While fully aware that significant issues exist within the system, and across all strata of our governmental organizations, I can still be thankful for the majority of the people that volunteer to serve in them.

The channel I found myself viewing most is created by a man who goes by the intentionally ironic mark of Donut Operator. Donut, as far as I can tell, spent several years working as a police officer, though now seems to make a living from his YT channel and streaming himself playing video games on Twitch. What a wonderful time to be a creative entrepreneur. Anyways, most of Donut’s videos feature footage from incidents ranging from traffic stops to deadly force encounters. In each episode Donut attempts to objectively assess the actions of both officers and offenders, as well as to address prior and current viewer comments regarding the prudence of decisions the officers make, along with the training and procedures they might be following in doing so. As in, why did an officer shoot a crazed addict who was charging them with a broadsword instead of using a Taser or verbally assuaging the danger. The range of scenarios officers may come across is baffling in scope, as are the outrageous and entirely unrealistic demands for non-lethal force against very lethal threats.

But it’s no longer the cop videos that are the draw, they’re just how I got to the next place. The place I’m in now. Even with Donut’s admirable sense of humor and objectivity, the negativity of each situation on his channel quickly becomes a draining experience, even if it does create a sense of empathy for what a lot of officers routinely go through. Realizing this adverse reaction—that of the negativity, not the empathy—however, makes the decision to watch what I’ve been habitually watching somewhat confounding. The name of the channel I’m now hooked on is Active Self Protection, and I obviously ended up there through the benevolent auspices of the algorithm. Like watching people get shot? You’ll love this next suggestion. The thing is, I don’t think I particularly enjoy witnessing or even imagining violence, though somehow find myself captivated by this particular channel (which features nothing but violent situations), and its host, John Correia (pronounced similar to the country in Asia).

The format goes like this: we see a snapshot of a real-life encounter which inevitably involves a person, or multiple people, attempting to violate the rights of another person, or persons—generally a robbery, mugging, car-jacking, kidnapping, etc., though occasionally a road rage incident, bar fight, etc.; the preview is followed by a brief intro of the day’s topic by Correia and a short advertisement by his sponsors, usually makers of pepper spray, targets, ammo, gun holsters…; after the ad we get to the footage, which usually comes from one or multiple angles taken from security or dashboard cameras; following the video, Correia introduces the lessons viewers might take from each incident, often while replaying and reviewing the tape. Once again, these are all real incidents, most of which happened fairly recently. And people, real people, often die violently—almost always by gunshot—in the encounters.

The videos are generally not as horrific as they may sound—though a couple of them most certainly are. And really, all of them should be. Human beings are killing other human beings. They are killing them out of greed, out of spite, out of anger, and in order to survive. And we’re allowed to watch endlessly. We are desensitized to the violence, immune to the telling of these age old stories, and buffered perhaps by the poor quality of the often audio-free videos. We’ve seen it all before so many times on the screen, hear about it every day in the news, so none of it seems all that real. In order to make the scenarios more palatable for dissecting key learning points, Correia himself incorporates humorous euphemisms. The ‘good guys,’ when killed, ‘sadly didn’t make it.’ The ‘bad guys,’ when terminated, take ‘the room/asphalt temperature challenge,’ depending on whether or not they die indoors or out. The winner of a gunfight, we’re always reminded, is ‘the first one to get effective shots into the ‘meaty bits’ of their opponent.’ You should also keep in mind that when a gunfight starts, ‘You have the rest of your life to get shots on target.’ And then there’s John’s FIBSA Factor, the ‘F— I’m Being Shot At’ which often ends an encounter by sending perpetrators fleeing whether they’ve been hit in the meaty bits or not. Curiously enough, they usually run either way rather than dropping dramatically to the ground as Hollywood might have us believe. Like chickens with their heads chopped off, many of the mortally wounded criminals manage record sprint speeds before eventually keeling over.

A good portion of the videos hail from Brazil, which comes out seeming like a terribly dangerous place to live or travel as a result. Many amusing comments may be read pertaining to viewers’ newfound averseness to vacationing there. Ironic, of course, when one realizes that almost all the other videos come from the United States, and that this is exactly how we’re viewed by the rest of the world. Somehow this fact doesn’t seem to register with most of the folks commenting. Perhaps because we’re so used to it now, and perhaps because the incidents are often referred to by which state they come from rather than being attributed directly to our country as a whole. As of a couple of weeks ago, the US, in slightly over three months of 2021, has already ‘tallied more than 12,000 gunshot deaths… and 150 mass shootings in which four or more people were killed’ (The Week). Over 23 million guns were purchased in this country in 2020 alone. Some would have you believe that more guns equal less violence, but that clearly isn’t the case. Others call for the banning of guns entirely—an incredibly impracticable scenario given all the guns that are already out here. What’s the answer then? I really don’t have any clue.

But the real question here is: Why am I watching this before turning in for the night multiple times per week? Why is this what I end my evenings with when I’m too tired to focus on anything else? I guess I’m unsure of that myself, and often swear that I will cease this behavior, but sometimes can’t resist the enticing titles that continue to pop-up: ‘Store Owner Takes the Fight to Robber;’ ‘Two Armed Men Stop Knife Attack Cold;’ ‘Guard Forced to Shoot Angry Patient…’ Do I not already know that the world is fraught with peril? That good and evil are locked in eternal battle? That there are profuse numbers of wicked people waiting for opportunities to do harm? That there are guns and bad guys and boogey monsters everywhere? Is it that I like to see karmic justice delivered to criminals? Which happens, but not always—plenty of victims die as well. Do I like to imagine myself a hero? Or pretend that these videos will provide a sense of readiness in case a similar scenario occurs in my own life? I don’t even ‘keep my tools on’ me (i.e. carry a gun around everywhere I go) which is one of the top lessons of every video.

The answer to that question is also that I don’t really have one. But I think it has a lot to do with Correia himself, and the lessons he provides in each video. Each one is analogous to fostering a holistic lifestyle of awareness and introspection. Correia encourages viewers to think about what they would do in each situation. His channel might even be viewed as an acknowledgment that there is evil in the world, and that we must live alongside it. Correia promotes preemptively identifying our values in order to let them guide us in the event of danger. What is worth dying for? When is compliance a better strategy? Where should you draw the line as far as that compliance is concerned? In what instances might you step in to assist someone else? When shouldn’t you? He talks about what it means to be a moral and ethical defender, and praises those who are able to reduce a threat appropriately and without undue amounts of force. In many of the videos he cautions against letting our egos get the better of us—‘Don’t start none, won’t be none.’ He counsels letting go of reactionary behavior and walking away from unnecessary aggressions.

Common chair partner at Ski Land. Worth those 1000 words. Bout all you need to know about that place.

Correia’s brand is built around the ASP acronym, and features a snake’s head as its logo. He admonishes viewers to ‘cover their ASP’ at all times, and promotes proactive measures to ensure physical and emotional fitness. The letters stand for Active Self Protection, but also double as the guiding principles that allow us all to be better prepared for the unexpected in life: Attitude, Skills, and a Plan. I appreciate the simplicity of it all. Be confident. Always work at improvement. Know what you’re about.

Correia also covers the tactical aspects of each scenario and highlights the need for increased diligence in certain situations, namely transitional spaces. While we should always be attentive to our surroundings, even in what we might consider to be safe zones, we put ourselves at greater risk as we travel about in the world around us. Vigilance is recommended. These spaces may be represented by thoroughfares and parking lots. Always go to ATMs (‘Accessories to Muggings’) inside of buildings. And so forth. This too, I think, can be applied to the larger scale of life. Seems like the transitional spaces can last for years even as we move about looking for a safe environment, our happy place. It’s imperative then to be able to distinguish the good guys from the bad guys. To be able to identify threats and deal with them appropriately. To remain aware. Stoicism is an endorsed form of compliance, and we must accept much of what life visits upon us—though there is also time for action and self-preservation. It’s also significant to realize that sometimes bystanders are there to help you out. Even more important to know that you can help someone else out. And finally, when life suddenly spirals into chaos, we must recognize the wisdom of Correia’s guidance, ‘Attitude is Everything.’

Honestly though, I really need to just go to bed when I’m supposed to.

Speaking of transitional spaces, the day I got back from the trip down south it started snowing and didn’t stop for days. Then it warmed up and all that snow started to melt. And then it got really cold for a while and all that melted snow turned to a whole bunch of thickset ice. For days the roads were about as treacherous as they can get. A few places even shut down for a minute, but for the most part it was business as usual, though more cars in the ditches than ever. And after that, it got crazy nice. From -20 on Saturday morning to 50 something on Sunday afternoon. And it stayed there for two full weeks. Days of glorious sunshine and brilliant blue skies. Gorgeous spring weather and all kinds of snow for all the things. Perfect conditions for just about any winter sport you can imagine, but no need for bundling up. Quite the opposite, in fact.

It was days of getting out and getting after it. Waking up each morning and greeting the sun. The standard doses of fresh air and exercise, plus welcome regimens of Vitamin D therapy. Lots of day trips and multiple modes of transportation/recreation. One of the highpoints was a day with Emilie, Jim, and a few of Emilie’s sled dogs for a marathon distance skijor from her cabin at the top of Murphy Dome, down down down to the pipeline and the Chatanika River, along the river for many miles and then all the way back up the big hill. The morning was a bit harrowing with less than desirable conditions due to overnight freezing. Some sketchy descents, and a handful of falls for everyone but the dogs. The afternoon, however, was magnificent. Once we hit the pipeline it was nothing but sunshine and slush the rest of the way. The temperature was hovering around 60 that day, about enough to melt a person after a Fairbanks winter, and after lunch we all had to strip down to our skivvies to finish out the rest of the day. Even that layer proved too constricting for Jim, who bucked it all the way down and courteously hopped in the back of our line. Thankfully, no severe burns were accrued in the following hours, and the dogs pulled like champs in helping us back up the hill. A big outing for Jim and myself, a casual day in the life of Ms. Emilie.

There were also a couple days of snowshoeing around Wickersham Dome and a perfect three-day weekend—t-shirt snowboarding on Saturday, super-fast skate skiing on Sunday, and the season’s first float trip on Monday with Emilie and Becky down the Delta Clearwater, the only ice free section of water around. Well, mostly ice free, I got to hop out and ride a big floe down the Tanana for a few minutes, which was actually more stimulating than it sounds. Fun facts: first mosquito bite on April 20th, first cloud of mosquitoes encountered two days later (even though still in the 20s most nights!), and then all the sudden one more full day of winter and snow on the 30th. So now back to transitioning with a little Alaskan reminder of the impermanence of all things. Those sure were some amazing days though. Warm memories, you might say.

Bonus Track: Clay Pigeons. I heard this song for the first time ever a couple days ago. Originally by a singer/songwriter from Texas named Blaze Foley, it was also recorded by John Prine. Both artists use a technique called Travis Picking for the song, and both versions are worth a listen, or lots of them. Maybe I’ll get there one day, but for now just sticking with some chords. The most basic ones. Like the rest of life, a work in progress.

May Meltdown

Another month in the Interior, and a complete transition from one world to another. Having been up a winter without an Alaskan summer, and many summers without an Alaskan winter, it all finally makes sense. Traveling from the outside in always seemed such an abrupt event that adjustment was an undertaking. Living from one season to the next, however, witnessing the lakes thaw, and the rivers break up, and the trees budding one week and rematerializing decked in green the next, both body and mind undergo a similar shift from dormant to fully alive. The 20-hour days and the 60° temperatures—so amazing when one can tangibly recall 100° down the scale—inject an insistent energy into everything around. It is good to be alive.

COVID has not yet had the dramatic impact on human health here that it has in so many places around the world, though the economic repercussions of weeks of lockdown and the crisis as a whole have only just begun. The Alaskan economy relies heavily on summer tourism, and there will be incredibly limited visitation this year, leaving many without work or an annual income. At the same time, there is trepidation concerning opening the state back up to visitors, as closing the borders prevented an initial spread of the virus, though may have only delayed the inevitable once travel resumes. Life as a whole seems to be moving back to the way it was before, however, or whatever the new normal might look like. Businesses have been okayed to reopen, with minor restrictions, the sun is shining, and Alaskans have reemerged from the confinement of both winter and quarantine. As for myself, I’ve been back at work for several weeks already, and consider myself incredibly fortunate to have employment in the outdoors (or at all, for that matter), as well as considerable chances to explore my surroundings. So much to see and do, and summer has only just begun. A few of those lived opportunities from the past several weeks:

Round-a-Bout. The last part of April and early part of May (something akin to spring, I suppose, or mud season in the Rockies) were a bit of a weird time for electing outdoor activities. It was skiing on the remnants of groomed trails some days, and running on a select few dry paths on others—or even both on the same day. It was slush, ice, miles of standing water, and lots and lots of mud. For the most part, trails were too muddy to walk or drive on, but also not snowy enough to travel. The rivers were melting off, but with huge ice dams creating lethal hazards in unexpected places, hence no early boating. A state of limbo. But it was also a time to get out and get going, time to do something, anything.

I didn’t know anyone when I moved here only a couple of months before the beginning of all this, though thankfully I met a few people just before things started shutting down, and was lucky enough to have one quarantine companion to socialize with during the ordeal. Not sure what life would have been like otherwise, and don’t care to imagine complete isolation for the duration of all those days. The importance of friends has never been more pronounced. Anyways, right before going back to a regular schedule, we headed south for a few days and ended up making a big highway loop from Fairbanks to Delta to Glennallen to Palmer, Talkeetna, Denali, and back. A round-a-bout on a significant portion of Alaska’s limited road system, in other words, the 2,4, 1 & 3, or the Al-Can, Richardson, Glen, and Parks Highways respectively—though the numbers are rarely referred to and the names change confusingly along the way. The original intention was to travel the Denali Highway, which is in reality a 130 miles of dirt road on the south side of the Alaska Range, but we only made it in about 20 miles from either side as several feet of snow prevented through travel. Even that early in the year, however, the daylight was abundant, allowing for lots of sightseeing and plenty of hiking around. Highlights were moving through a wide variety of terrain and weather conditions—bone dry mountains on one side and pure winter on the opposite; hikes up Donnelly Dome, Lion’s Head, along the Matanuska in Palmer, and down to the Nenana River in a couple different places in Denali; witnessing huge chunks of ice crashing their way down the Susitina and Chulitna Rivers; lots of wildlife including groupings of moose grazing together and a quick glimpse of a wolverine crossing a dirt road; and amazing views of Denali from multiple vantages.

Drove the loop in the center. Line through the loop is the Denali ‘Highway’.
Donnelly Dome looking south.
To the north.
Hours long sunset illuminates the Mat Valley.
Nenana below Dragonfly Falls
Nenana overlook
Denali from the ‘highway’.

Delta Clearwater. Finally, after weeks of waiting to get on some moving water, the opportunity presented itself with an overnight on the Delta Clearwater. The original plan was to float the Chatanika, but hot temps and excessive melting created flooding throughout the area, so last minute research revealed another local run which proved to be the perfect spring float and testing run for the little ‘pack raft’ I plan on using for the summer. There are two commonly run trips on the river, both of which begin about 12 miles from the confluence of the Delta Clearwater and the Tanana. Each trip involves floating those miles of the Clearwater and then joining up with the Tanana. The shorter run, which I chose this time, ends with a mile float down the Tanana, followed by a one-mile paddle up a side stream to Clearwater Lake. The second option is to continue another 18 miles on the Tanana and end up at a bridge just outside of Delta Junction, something I certainly hope to get in before the end of fall. Both are also amenable to a bike shuttle, which is always an awesome way to deal with logistics. The Clearwater itself is a bit more developed than I’d imagined, with lots of summer cabins along the banks, though has its wild sections and certainly lives up to its name with crystal clear water revealing school after school of fish swimming below. There was also lots of waterfowl, along with a great campsite and sunset, a couple well-timed rain showers, and more of a wilderness feel the last few miles.

The PR 49. Not as classy as a canoe, or as comfortable as a raft, but holds plenty of gear and easily fits in the back of a Camry.

Tanana. My next couple days off (full weekend warrior mode (though with Tuesdays & Wednesdays as weekends)) I paddled 56 miles of the Tanana from the Pump House in Fairbanks down to the town of Nenana. I left at noon the first day and arrived around 5 the next, and got incredibly lucky with a steady downstream breeze and the push of some high water current. Could have been brutal otherwise, as the Tanana is a massive river (the largest tributary of the Yukon) which can be miles wide, and slow moving as it meanders through multiple braided channels for the majority of the time. The highlight of this trip was definitely the island camp which I found at exactly the mileage I’d hoped for after an afternoon of steady paddling. A small flat sand patch surrounded by mounds of driftwood, with an excellent view of the Alaska Range in the background.

Tanana Valley
Rusting relic. Old Tanana riverboat.
The get-out in Nenana.

Up Close. Hard to not be effusive when detailing the amount of potential in this area of the state. Summer seems to hold even more prospects than winter, with an abundance of hiking, climbing, biking, boating, etc. all within an hour’s drive. There are trails galore, a profusion of float trips from a few hours to a few weeks, and lakes, mountains, and rivers in every direction. The hardest part is narrowing down the next adventure, and trying not to worry about how much you’re missing out on while doing it!

Run Free! Moose Creek Dam in Chena Lakes State Rec area. Walk, ride, or run for miles.
200′ from the front door. Bear Lake.