Post by karlsie on Jul 9, 2009 3:38:12 GMT -5
A short article in the Anchorage Daily News kept the locals in stitches today, although i suspect if i presented it exactly as written, some of the humor might be lost. Therefore, i'll try to revise this article a little for reader appreciation.
The midnight sun turned out to be too much for a couple out-of-state visitors who wanted to be rescued after spending a single night in one of those remote, difficult to access places, we call "the bush", which must be separated in the mental processes from "rural", which at least has homes a mile or two apart, or village, which is comprised of two or three hundred people living close together and town, which can have anywhere between six hundred to 2,000 people, with the next town another 150 miles away. The bush doesn't even fall in between those guidelines. It's far away from roads, telephone or electric lines, nearby neighbors. You're lucky to find one or two cabins in the bush.
The two young men decided to try their own into the wild experience. An air taxi service had dropped off William Calomris, 27 and Adam Grunstra, also 27, of Bethesda, Md. at Pungokepuk Lake, which you'll have a very difficult time finding on a map. The area is located near Dillingham, a small town near the Bristol Bay, north of the Aleutians. State Troopers received a report of an emergency locator beacon that was registered to Calomris, that was activated about 8:30 p.m. July 1. Troopers alerted the Alaska Air National Guard, the U.S. Coast Guard and then diverted their own Dillingham-based floatplane that was in the area to head to the scene and check things out.
The floatplane touched down about 10:30 p.m. to find there was no emergency. After completing only one day of what was supposed to have been a seven day adventure, the men were ready to leave. They claimed the sun had taken its toll on them. Well, yes the sun can do that, but if they'd done any homework at all, i'm not sure what they expected. They had arrived at a time when we have our longest hours of sunlight. In southest/western Alaska, it's not quite so intense as the sun does settle along the mountains, creating a two hour dusk before rising again, but the further north you go, the more apparent the sun is, rolling around in a complete circle. Not only had they chosen to go north, but coastal north. We live at the top of the world for crying out loud. In the summer, you see the full rotation of the sun. It's sixth grade science.
"Calomiris and Grunstra claimed that they had been sunburned," troopers wrote in a dispatch. "They were unprepared to deal with the long day length and any further exposure to the sun. They had activated the beacon in an effort to get extracted ahead of schedule."
Ah well. I suppose twenty-four hours of sunlight isn't for everyone. We Alaskans are just plain greedy. We'll take all we can get. We remember too well the long hours of darkness that comes as we rotate away from the sun's influence. I've just gotta wonder about will power and perseverence, however. That must have been a helluva an expensive twenty four hour visit.
The midnight sun turned out to be too much for a couple out-of-state visitors who wanted to be rescued after spending a single night in one of those remote, difficult to access places, we call "the bush", which must be separated in the mental processes from "rural", which at least has homes a mile or two apart, or village, which is comprised of two or three hundred people living close together and town, which can have anywhere between six hundred to 2,000 people, with the next town another 150 miles away. The bush doesn't even fall in between those guidelines. It's far away from roads, telephone or electric lines, nearby neighbors. You're lucky to find one or two cabins in the bush.
The two young men decided to try their own into the wild experience. An air taxi service had dropped off William Calomris, 27 and Adam Grunstra, also 27, of Bethesda, Md. at Pungokepuk Lake, which you'll have a very difficult time finding on a map. The area is located near Dillingham, a small town near the Bristol Bay, north of the Aleutians. State Troopers received a report of an emergency locator beacon that was registered to Calomris, that was activated about 8:30 p.m. July 1. Troopers alerted the Alaska Air National Guard, the U.S. Coast Guard and then diverted their own Dillingham-based floatplane that was in the area to head to the scene and check things out.
The floatplane touched down about 10:30 p.m. to find there was no emergency. After completing only one day of what was supposed to have been a seven day adventure, the men were ready to leave. They claimed the sun had taken its toll on them. Well, yes the sun can do that, but if they'd done any homework at all, i'm not sure what they expected. They had arrived at a time when we have our longest hours of sunlight. In southest/western Alaska, it's not quite so intense as the sun does settle along the mountains, creating a two hour dusk before rising again, but the further north you go, the more apparent the sun is, rolling around in a complete circle. Not only had they chosen to go north, but coastal north. We live at the top of the world for crying out loud. In the summer, you see the full rotation of the sun. It's sixth grade science.
"Calomiris and Grunstra claimed that they had been sunburned," troopers wrote in a dispatch. "They were unprepared to deal with the long day length and any further exposure to the sun. They had activated the beacon in an effort to get extracted ahead of schedule."
Ah well. I suppose twenty-four hours of sunlight isn't for everyone. We Alaskans are just plain greedy. We'll take all we can get. We remember too well the long hours of darkness that comes as we rotate away from the sun's influence. I've just gotta wonder about will power and perseverence, however. That must have been a helluva an expensive twenty four hour visit.
