April 13, 2009

A review of Alaska Tracks by David James, Fairbanks Daily News-Miner

David James

Published Sunday, April 12, 2009

FAIRBANKS — Regular readers of the Daily News-Miner are familiar with Ned Rozell’s weekly column, “Alaska Science Forum,” that presents current research in clear and compelling language, enabling those of us with limited backgrounds in the sciences to understand some of the latest discoveries in the far north. But many might not know that Rozell is also a regular contributor to “Alaska” magazine, where his “Wilderness Adventurer” column ran for six years beginning in 2001.

Rozell has gathered up 30 of those columns for his latest book, “Alaska Tracks,” which details his numerous exploits in the backcountry. It’s a fun collection that will leave readers a little bit envious of how much time Rozell has spent in the great wide open.

Rozell has spent long periods in the wilds of Alaska, hunting, skiing, competing in endurance races, setting up weather stations, accompanying scientists, and much more. Yet despite his impressive accomplishments, he writes about his experiences without a trace of ego or braggadocio. As he traipses nearly every corner of the state in these essays, what becomes obvious is that he’s driven by a genuine love for Alaska rather than the need to prove himself.

Rozell’s appreciation for his adopted home is conveyed in the opening essay that, ironically for a book about Alaska, covers a canoe trip he and his wife took in upstate New York where he was raised. As the two meander their way down the Hudson River, they encounter the inevitable “no trespassing” signs and pass through areas contaminated by PCBs. Rozell recollects his long-ago departure from New York and determines what keeps him in Alaska, telling us:

“We share the land up here, we motorheads and leave-no-tracers, sourdoughs and just-transferred airmen. We are not corralled into certain areas to recreate, nor is anyone watching out for our safety in the woods and on the icefields. In a word, we Alaskans are free. Free to take on any outdoor endeavor almost anywhere we please, no matter how noble or stupid.”

Throughout the rest of the book, Rozell takes on quite an array of those outdoor endeavors, heading up the West Buttress of Denali with a Japanese climbing team; trekking across Katmai National Park’s Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes; visiting the Hubbard Glacier where he has to outrace ice chunks calving into Disenchantment Bay; entering the human-powered Iditarod Trail Invitational; and, closer to home, skiing into the White Mountains, and joining the Fairbanks Cycle Club on the annual Longest Night Ride, when a small contingent of sanity-challenged mountain bikers celebrate winter solstice by taking off across Goldstream Valley hours after sunset.

Accompanying Rozell on a number of his trips are his canine friends. Rozell’s first book, “Walking my Dog, Jane,” told of his 800 mile walk along the pipeline corridor from Valdez to Prudhoe Bay in 1997 with his 10-year-old chocolate lab. In this book he writes movingly of Jane’s death three years later, as well as his slow to develop relationship with Chloe, the dog his wife brought into their relationship around the same time. Anyone who has ever lost a beloved dog and then learned to love its replacement will recognize the conflicting emotions Rozell writes so well about here.

Another critter that puts in a few appearances is the grizzly bear. Like anyone who’s spent lots of time in Alaska’s wilds, Rozell has run into a few over the years, and stories of his encounters are sprinkled throughout the book. Each time a bear appears, it gets a bit closer to Rozell than the last one, culminating in a hair-raising account of a grizzly that chased him up and down a small river he was boating in. But none of Rozell’s bear stories match his wife Kristen’s. A biologist by training, she was attacked in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and spent a terrifying moment with her head in the bear’s jaws. The bear left as suddenly as it had appeared, and she was miraculously able to get out for help.

Rozell’s work as a science writer spills over into several of these essays. He’s particularly interested in how the forces of nature impact the landscape of Alaska. Thus we travel with him through the burned out landscape of the White Mountains after the catastrophic wildfires of 2004, examine a section of the Denali fault that was upended by the 2002 earthquake, traverse the Continental Divide at its furthest reach near Wales on the Seward Peninsula, and visit the coastal village of Shishmaref which is crumbling into the sea due to climate change.

All this and more is told in Rozell’s easygoing style of writing that somehow manages to say more in a few short words than many other writers can convey in half a page. For instance, when explaining the glacial retreat that created Glacier Bay, he gives us this memorable description of how much ice has disappeared: “Spread the former ice of Glacier Bay over Alaska, and every inch of the state would be buried seven feet under an icecap.”

Elsewhere he describes working on the weather station 17,000 feet up Denali as “one-and-a-half hours above most of the world’s oxygen molecules.” And he illustrates the movement that has taken place along the Denali fault over the millennia by simply telling us, “A long time ago, the rocks that built Mt. McKinley lived near Tok.”

Ned Rozell rarely turns down an opportunity to get out in the wilds of Alaska. And he’s a great guide for introducing the rest of us to some of what’s out there. “Alaska Tracks” belongs on the shortlist of anyone who enjoys good outdoor writing and spending some quality time with a companionable author who motivates readers to get out there as well.

(“Alaska Tracks” is available at Gulliver’s, and also amazon.com and the author’s website, alaskatracks.com)

David A. James lives in Fairbanks.

Filed under Blog by Ned