Ice Carving

Ice carving is a fascinating winter activity that appeals to the unemployed and virgins alike. And Fairbanks provides a perfect venue for creating and displaying their craft. Where else can you find -45 degree temps that form crystal clear ice AND a local population so starved for entertainment that they will pay $10 to walk around and watch said ice not melt?
All kidding aside, the international Ice Carving (or Sculpting?) Championships held in Fairbanks every year are well worth the price of admission and the commitment to stay outside in frigid temperatures for more than five minutes. Artists from around the world gather here to create truly remarkable pieces evoking nature scenes, metaphor, and even comedy. Here’s a few of my favorite examples from last year’s competition. Pretty cool, huh?
A couple ancillary matters. First, one night during the competition I stopped by a local bar for a drink and saw a team of ice sculpting competitors. Aside from their unfortunate facial hair choices, the appearance of this group was also remarkable for their attire, which prominently consisted of custom jackets and hats featuring ice sculpting themes and even sponsor decals. Let me take this opportunity to again bemoan the overabundance of sponsor decals in our modern society – it’s stupid. First it was the Nascar guys. At least they had some good excuses to wear sponsor decals. After all, their cars are expensive and they crash them all the time, and also, their redneck fans seem very susceptible to the power of suggestion and advertizing in general. (How else can we explain why people willingly eat Pizza Hut?) Realizing that the Nascar guys had a pretty good thing going, the poker guys soon followed suit. Which was exceedingly stupid, though understandable in that at least these guys wear poker-related decals and are on t.v. when they act like idiots and scream after every hand. But ice carvers? This is where I draw the line. If I really want to get into ice carving and you vehemently recommend a particular chisel as superior, well yeah, I’m gonna go out and buy me that damn chisel. But lumber yards? Car dealerships? These things have nothing to do with ice carving and everyone knows it. Unless that decal is heated, take it off your jacket.
I know I said “a couple” of ancillary matters but I forget what the other thing was.

Coming Soon!

Midnight Sun Baseball Game; Klutina River; The Alaskan Adventures of One Scott Durkee; Mount Marathon Redux; Harding Ice Field; Bison Gulch; Ice Carving; Mike’s Parents Realize He Doesn’t Have Running Water; and other oddities

Ice Fishing

Ice fishing is the perfect sport for guys who 1) like fishing; 2) love drinking; and 3) hate their wives. Tough, but fair. I mean, if while pacing the 12’x16’ floor of your cabin you think “I would rather kneel on a frozen lake in -30 degree weather scooping ice out of a hole than stay in here another minute”, you probably don’t like your wife very much. I’m just saying.
Anyway, wife-hating aside, ice fishing is pretty fun if you do it right. Essential supplies include multiple people, lots of alcohol, something to sit on, something to drill through ice (preferably gas-powered), and more booze. I’m not even sure that a rod and bait and such are actually necessary. I’ll have to check on that for you.Here’s a few pics from my first ever ice-fishing trip. I caught precisely one fish, an arctic char. It bit a piece of Velveeta I molded around a metal hook. This char did not fight very much. And when I pulled it out of the hole and plunked in down on the ice, it quickly froze. Very polite fish. I think if I given the opportunity, it would have excused itself, filleted itself into two lunch-sized portions, and jumped into my freezer. Other highlight – this puppy chasing a live char prematurely deposited into an empty case of Busch Heavy. (That’s right, The Hoary Marmot is not above publishing superfluous pictures of cute puppies for a cheap ratings boost.)

Live Animal Disposal Etiquette

In keeping with the ridiculous sign theme, things one’s been on my mind for a while. As in, something other than the very, very bright sun that keeps me up at night.
“What does this mean?” I asked myself when I first saw this outside the local transfer station. “It couldn’t be that, could it?” After pondering this over the course of several months, I’ve come to the conclusion that yes, this sign could only mean that.
We’ve all heard stories of people dispatching unwanted pets. (Especially the Falcons fans among us.) But apparently in Fairbanks this phenomenon was occurring with sufficient frequently so as to warrant design, manufacture, and installation of custom signage explicitly reminding the citizenry that disposing of live animals in dumpster is not appropriate behavior. Yikes.

Help Pastor + Win Automatic Weapons = Biggest No-Brainer in the History of Earth

So one day I walked into the break room at work, poured myself a cup of coffee, and then laughed my ass off as I saw this flyer for the first time. To be honest I was a bit surprised at my own amusement. After about 16 months and Fairbanks I’ve grown immune to a lot of this ridiculousness. It’s only once in a while that I still catch myself and think, “WTF?” Which is a little disconcerting.
My intent in starting a blog last year was to document ridiculous Fairbanks things as a means to 1) vent my incredulity; 2) communicate to friends back home the specific things that I find so funny about this place; 3) keep myself rooted in some semblance of my former reality; and 4) get laid. O.k., I made at least one of those things up. But that’s beside the point, which is basically that I’m very grateful that someone posted this flyer in our break room. Sort of snapped me back to reality while simultaneously renewing my urge to share this random crap with others. So, thank you crazy gun raffle man, whoever you are. I hope one of your $100 tickets wins you the biggest, loudest, shiniest gun they make.
(As a side note – Pastor “Bearup”? Really? Is this like “Cowboy up” only with bearing arms instead of gay baseball players in red stockings? Just a thought. I mean, frankly, it sounds made up….)