AK Autos

While I'm recalling Alaska, they had two vehicle modifications that I don't believe are common in most of the lower 48 (states).

1. Studded Tires - Every year, everybody swaps their tires for winter tires which include dull metal studs to maintain traction of frozen roads.

Tire stud informational display.

People sometimes use chains in the continental states, but the studs are better for long-term daily use (winters are a lot longer up there).

They're an extra expense, the unused set of tires (studded in summer, regular in winter) requires storage space, and changing them is another annoying task on the To-Do list every 6 months or so.

2. Engine Heaters - Alaskan vehicles come equipped with a small heater in the engine; it plugs into an extension cord and is necessary to prevent the engine oil from freezing overnight. So, the cars have little plugs coming out of their grills. It's common practice to plug in the car at night during the coldest couple of months of the year.

In Anchorage, modern apartment complexes had electrical outlets available on posts located in the parking lot, one for each parking space.

In Dillingham, we would run an industrial extension cord from the house to the van.

Here is a photo of me changing a tire on the ice, using a lever made from firewood to assist my piece-of-crap jack:

Changing a tire in a frozen driveway.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 29 2004]

Walk Dude

Dillingham, Alaska, when my brother Todd and I were there (1995–1997), was a very secluded part of the world—it still is, I guess, but internet availability probably changes a lot. When I was there, we had no internet, though we did have cable TV, so we weren’t entirely disconnected in terms of information, even back then. It was certainly physically disconnected, though. There were no roads to or from Dillingham; it was more of a hub town for a handful of scattered Yu'pik villages and a boat harbor with access to Bristol Bay. No fast food, though there were a couple of restaurants, bars, and grocery stores.

One year, our supervisor directed us to participate in the local parade. We drove the company van through the streets of Dillingham. While we didn’t have it together enough to create a proper float, we felt we should haul something, so we put an old Nordic Track exercise machine on the flatbed trailer and hauled that behind us. Our supervisor created a wooden figure which we all referred to as the “Walk Dude.” We added a few balloons and some signage to identify ourselves, and we were good to go.

The company van.

The "Walk Dude."

Signage, balloons, and brother Todd.

Driving into town.

It may not have been the most impressive parade float to ever see the light of day, but it served its purpose and it was hilarious. The weather was also terrible for a parade which made the whole endeavor ridiculous.

Once we hit town, there was a pretty good turnout:

 We threw out so much candy. The kids loved it.

 

It was pretty fun hauling a muddy balloon-decorated Nordic Track through town on a flatbed and throwing candy to the crowd.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 11 2004]

Death to Tyrants

When we were living in rural Alaska, my brother Todd and I decided to celebrate one particular 4th of July by building and burning a tyrant's effigy. He had a balloon head and a body stuffed with straw. Went up in flames good, like a tyrant should.

Here's pics:

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 4, 2004]

Potato Launcher

Probably our most outrageous source of entertainment in Dillingham was the potato launcher.

Our boss built it from PVC pipe—just the right diameter to snugly fit a potato down the barrel. At the base, he attached a wider plastic chamber with a screw-off cap, where we’d spray in the “fuel”: Aqua Net hairspray. (It worked great until they changed the formula; after that, we had to switch brands. The key was finding something flammable.)

He rigged it with an old electric grill starter and a bolt inside the chamber, so all it took was pressing a red button to send a spark across the chamber and ignite the hairspray. We kept a broomstick handy to use as a ramrod whenever a potato didn’t quite fit.

When you hit the button, it let off a loud bang that echoed through the trees, and the potato launched with surprising velocity. My supervisor once speculated that a direct hit could break a man’s ribs.

Potato Launcher.

Taking aim.

Todd prepares to launch a potato.

We used to set up targets in the backyard and fire the potato gun at them—usually an old trash can lid propped up with rocks.

That was one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way we could’ve gotten away with that in a suburban neighborhood without drawing the attention of the neighbors—and probably law enforcement.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 17, 2004]

Experiences with Canned Meat

[From RW...BS's "Canned Meat Weekend" (July 22-24, 2005)]

Canned meat has been a part of my life, and I’m happy to share this memory:

Chicken of the Sea – Back when I was living in the Alaskan Bush (pre-internet), entertainment was scarce. To pass the time, I started writing to companies in hopes of getting free coupons. One day, I wrote a letter to Chicken of the Sea, claiming that I had found a chicken feather in my can of tuna. I told them it was probably the result of a worker on the production line who thought it would be funny play on the product name.

Chicken of the Sea replied, saying that it was very unlikely for a worker to have done that, due to their stringent quality control processes. However, they did send me two coupons for free cans of tuna.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, July 23, 2005]