For the first time in a few decades, I drove to the top of Murphy Dome to go ptarmigan hunting. Many sunrises ago, when my life was dog-centered, I'd hunt up here all the time. BJ and I returned the other day. He spared this bird early in our day, but harvested two others. The temperature was 21 below.
My old snowshoes. My dad gave them to me for Christmas when I was in my teens. They came to Alaska with me in a Ford Courier that now rusts in a Fairbanks junkyard. It was nice to feel them on my boots again.
Poops, like most Lab mixes, loves nothing more than a few bird molecules pulled through her nostrils.
Sunshine on my face, thanks to the 2,000-foot elevation gain and the rise above the frozen water vapor in town.
Running ptarmigan
BJ, Poops and a landmark for pilots approaching Fairbanks from the west.
The last reward of a short winter day. Sunset over Denali.
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