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Curt and Cindee Karns on their snow machines at 3:00 p.m. Thanksgiving Day, 2003.
The Chena Hot Springs Road

The 4^th Thursday in November – 2003

For years, Gene and I told stories about our Thanksgiving celebration at the Chena Hot springs cabin with nostalgia. We wanted to do it again. So, that year – 2003 – we planned to stay in Alaska until after Thanksgiving. We would do it again!

They say you can’t go back. You can’t re-live past experiences. They are right. But what happens in the process of recapturing the past can be even more memorable…

On the morning of Thanksgiving Day, the thermometer read 28 degrees below zero! In the light of that, we hustled through breakfast and packing and were on our way by 10:30 a.m. The trip out was uneventful; Curt parked the Suburban and the trailer in a newly constructed drive-off for snow machiners and ATVers. It is about ½ mile beyond the driveway into Curt and Cindee’s cabin. There was 8 inches of new snow on top of a previous foot or more from other days. (In this country, it usually snows an inch or two every night – sometimes more, sometimes less.)

We all had to be dressed for the weather. The temperature had dropped to -36 degrees. The dogs got vests and mittens on; Cindee donned her snow machine suit and boots. Curt had a heavy pants and parka. Gene and I had put on all the layers we could find. I borrowed long johns from granddaughter Jeanie plus two pairs of pants, two sweaters and a heavy jacket plus hat, muffler and two pairs of mittens. Gene had bought a new hooded sweatshirt and thick long johns at Big Ray’s Sporting goods in Fairbanks. He had hats, muffler and mittens, but no boots, so he had to wait in the car with the dog until Curt could come back to get him. Much to my dismay, my heavy hat had to be stuffed inside my jacket for the snow machine trip because Curt wouldn’t take me without a helmet!

Unloading snow machines

Sled packed with food and dog pillows

Alaska Malawi in his winter clothes

Getting the snow machines off the trailer was a huge job because they had to be off-loaded through the front doors – luckily there were front doors! But the track on the first one was frozen and it couldn’t move down the ramp. Curt finally man-handled it to work and eventually two machines were ready to go. Curt used his mother’s machine (they call it “the Cadillac”) to pull a big 10 foot sled with all the bags and coolers and food including Malawi’s dog pillow. Cindee was on a much smaller machine, but I squeezed in behind her, hoping not to slide off the back-sloping seat, grabbing her around the middle for dear life. We took off flying down the road in pursuit of Curt who had Rosie, the Springer Spaniel in front of him on his machine.

At a place where Curt thought a good trail would lead to the cabin, we stopped. The ditch was steep and the snow was deep, but Curt made the transition with the sled just fine. Cindee didn’t follow his path. Instead, she took a slightly angled shot that required a turn. The problem was – with me crowding her against the handle bars, she couldn’t navigate the turn and she buried the snow machine and dumped me!

Curt to the rescue. He got the machine out and then used it to check the trail ahead before committing both machines. Up ahead, we saw Curt stop, get off and walk forward. All at once he dropped out of sight for a minute. He had fallen into the pond! So, that trail was abandoned. He turned around and came back. Then he had to unhook the sled, turn the sled and the big machine around, hook up again and get back up the ditch with both machines. It worked.

The beauty of winter

The cabin on the Chena River

Next, Curt took the big machine back to the main driveway to the cabin to see if that way might work. But the river was running high with over-flow slush and was impassable for snow machines. So Cindee, Rosie and I went back to the Suburban to tell Gene what was happening and to warm up. After a while, Curt came back to warm up a little. Then he took the small machine to find a better trail. On his return, he brought the great news that he had found a good trail, been to the cabin and started the fire!

Leaving Gene and his faithful dog Malawi behind once more, we took off down the road again – looking for the trail leading to “good Thanksgiving times.” Curt was far ahead of us, but we followed his trail and were doing great until we came to one of those corners and instead of making the turn, we buried the machine – again. This time we were on our own, digging snow with our hands, pulling on the front skis, pushing on the back, digging some more, etc. Finally, we got it out and went down the trail but ----

Curt was stopped, the sled was unhooked. He couldn’t get “the Cadillac” to move. It took Cindee revving the engine and Curt holding the back of the machine up in the air to fix whatever was wrong with the track. After that, no more problems getting to the cabin. The three of us unloaded the sled and made that all-important first trip to the outhouse.

Sleeping and eating area

The cook stove and kitchen

That is the outhouse behind the cabin

Meanwhile, back at the Suburban… Gene and Malawi were spending the time listening to the radio. According to the weather forecast, even though it was 36 below on the car’s thermometer, the forecast was for moderating temperatures all the way up to zero or above for the next day. Something to hope for…….

When Curt showed up on the big machine, they locked up the Suburban and left it, knowing that one of its best features is an automatic starter system to warm it up whenever the engine gets colder than a set temperature. The gas tank is huge, so leaving it for most of three days was no problem.

Earlier, Malawi had seen Rosie riding on the snow machine with Curt, so when Gene got on behind Curt, he jumped right up too, between the two men. Off they went, coming to the place where they had to go through the ditch. That went well, but then, the trail gave way in the soft snow and the machine and all riders were dumped in thigh-high snow! Malawi got up and out first and immediately started exploring.

Both men righted themselves and then the machine. Again, off they went, this time with Malawi running behind. He had such running in the snow with this fleece vest safety-pinned around his tummy but flying in the wind. It was 4:30 p.m. when we were all together in the cabin. Each dog had a big soft pillow for a bed in the cabin and they slept well snuggled up close to the stove.

Rosie, the Springer Spaniel

A man and his dog in Alaska

Alaska Malawi, the African dog

The dogs were snug on their pillows

The first night it was pretty chilly going to the outhouse, with only boots and hat and coat over sleeping attire. Restricting one’s intake of liquids prior to bed time seemed like a good idea. However, we were snug as bugs in our heavy sleeping bags with a silver space blanket under us.

The Karns family is one of the very best when it comes to hospitality. And the hospitality at the cabin can’t be matched. Three huge coolers for food came with us including a 20 pound turkey! That turkey was cooked in the cook-stove beginning at about 10:30 a.m. By 5:00 p.m. it was done and we shared a traditional Thanksgiving meal with Lyman and Geri Benshoof who walked in from the road following a trail Curt had made for them that morning. A good time was had by all!

Highlights of this cabin experience included playing “500” at the table, sitting on the deck out by the river on lawn chairs in 20 inches of snow and playing tunes on a breath-powered keyboard between taking walks out on the trail.

Cindee dressed for minus 40 degrees

The temperature did moderate and was much nicer navigating back along the trail on Saturday afternoon. However, we lost all the sodas we had taken on the sled. Sodas don’t do well in 38 below zero weather!

We may never get this winter cabin experience again in our lifetimes, but will be forever grateful to Curt and Cindee for making it possible for us then.

On a beautiful fall day in South Dakota, I had a most exciting adventure. I know a knowledgeable, skilled and experienced farmer who was combining corn. I was invited to ride a few rounds with him. (Notice I said combining, not picking corn.)

This is what the corn looks like, up close.

Here is my first glimpse of the behemoth that was gathering up the ears of corn, shucking off the husks and shelling it all at once.

Brad and his father each had a combine working in that field. Brad's chewed up eight rows at a time while his dad's was a six-row combine.

Like a giant comb, the head moves through the rows.

It was a climb up a ladder to get into the cab. But what a view!

The cab is roomy - two comfortable seats (one called a "trainer," I'm told), glass all around and an astounding amount of technical equipment.

Here, Brad is driving and managing the electronics at the same time. Adjustments are made for any necessity. I couldn't take it all in.

The big screen above shows the field and the combine going down the rows. Brad can connect to GPS and let the machine run itself. But he says he still wants to "have some control."

The shelled corn is collected in the top of the combine. When it gets full, the machine alerts Brad so the tractor and wagon can come along side while the corn is "elevated" into the wagon - all on the "fly."