An Unreasonable Fantasy Part II
This newsletter talks a little bit about hunting and animal meat.
Hi Bestie!!
I write to you on a small ice floe in the Arctic and everything around me is on fire. The ice, too. (The sunsets are nice!) Every day brings a fresh new hell to my little life and I am fueled by rage and morbid curiosity (is this the day I get pushed in front of a bus?). I was with one of you the other day and the way we laughed and laughed at how it couldn’t get worse—and then it did!
When things get like this, when my world is upended in a series of bureaucratic nightmares, I think of Richard Proenneke, who lived alone, in a cabin in Alaska, for almost thirty years. I always immediately remind myself that he spent the last years of his life in Hemet, California, a city. I need to ground myself, away from my unreasonable fantasies.
My first love remains New York City, and of course, I want a life with public transportation, reliable WiFi (not that I have that, with Optimum’s chokehold on the city), and crab Rangoon. That’s enough to keep me from moving to Medora in a fit of rage, and I seriously consider moving to Medora every few years.
The other thing keeping me from running a diner in Medora or working for the foundation is that one year a couple of bartenders from Russia told me everyone helps each other shovel the town when it snows. (It’s the county seat, so why isn’t there a plow?) In the winter of 2009, I vowed through a veil of tears to never shovel again. I did a lot of shoveling at my old apartment, but I had Butter & Scotch to get me through it; whiskey makes shoveling through a blizzard almost tolerable.
I’m about as far away from my family in Maryland as I can stand, or I would have made a go of New Orleans a long time ago. (I’d feel differently about alligators in 2023 if I had moved to Crescent City.) Los Angeles, where two of my best friends live, has considerably less snow than Alaska, but it, too, is too far away (and the heartbeat of civilization).
The difference between a cabin in Alaska and a cabin in Montana is conservation, at least in this case. Ted Kaczynski lived in Lincoln, Montana (pop. 998) and started bombing Americans when they built a road near his favorite trail, a two-day hike from his cabin. (Infrastructure is a good thing, Ted.) Kaczynski’s cabin lacked electricity and running water and he supported his off-the-grid life through odd jobs and significant financial support from his family.
Richard Proenneke was born in Southern Iowa, in Primrose, Harrison Township. He left high school after two years “because he didn’t enjoy it” and worked instead. He enlisted in the Navy after Pearl Harbor was attacked. He was given a medical discharge after the war ended; he contracted rheumatic fever and decided to dedicate his life to his health and well-being. First, he became a diesel mechanic. Then he moved to a sheep farm in Oregon. Finally, he went North to Alaska. (An eye injury in the 1960s inspired him to live away from people.)
In 1950 he moved to Shuyak Island in the Kodiak Archipelago. (Today most of Shuyak Island is Shuyak Island State Park. It is accessible by boat or plane.) For the next several years, until 1968, he worked as a fisherman and diesel technician in the Alaskan Peninsula.
Proenneke left his camper with a retired Naval captain and his wife and stayed in their cabin near Twin Lakes. The couple, Spike and Hope Carrithers had a cabin of their own approximately 200 yards from where Proenneke built his own. They had invited him to their tract of land, and it inspired him. The more I think about Proenneke’s life of solitude the more I’m heartwarmed by his interest and dedication to friendship. From NPS: “Despite his remote location and fierce independence, Dick was not a hermit; he maintained friendships and wrote back to anyone who sent him a letter. He saw his correspondence, films, and journals as a way to share a life untethered to the commercial world.”
Proenneke was a prolific documentarian. He filmed and photographed the construction of his cabin, his hikes, and his sojourns through the area around his home, and he narrated the video, too. He documented his days in journals, which have been published: More Readings From One Man's Wilderness, The Early Years: The Journals of Richard L. Proenneke 1967–1973, A life in Full Stride: The Journals of Richard L. Proenneke 1981-1985, Your Life here is an Inspiration: The Journals of Richard L. Proenneke 1986–1991, Reaching the End of the Trail: The Journals of Richard L. Proenneke 1992–2000. End of the Trail was published in 2020. These journals are lightly edited; One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey, published in 1973 by Sam Keith, is filled with embellishment, including the assertion that Proenneke was “king of the bears.” Proenneke was not pleased. Proenneke cared about the land around him and he dedicated his life not to solitude but to the preservation of the land. He accomplished that through his documentation. (I hope to read his journals this winter.)
He spent two summers building his 12-foot by 16-foot cabin of round spruce logs “carefully saddle notched at the corners.” The cabin has a gabled roof, which he insulated with moss gathered within 25 yards of the site. The lake is a “relatively dry” environment and he added a combination of moss, sod, dirt, and grass seed.
(Does the Department of the Interior add more of these materials as part of upkeep? Well, yes, actually.)
The cabin is heated through a chimney, built with beach stones. A stone on top keeps wildlife from entering the cabin. For the first sixteen months after construction, he lived by the lake, before leaving to visit relatives and gather more supplies. When he returned he left “only occasionally” to visit family.
He lived without electricity, running water, a telephone, “or other modern conveniences.” He had an outhouse, a woodshed, and a 6-foot by 4-foot elevated log shed on nine-foot poles. He accessed the log shed with a ladder he constructed himself. “Traditional Athabascan caches in the region sit on much shorter poles, but they are typically located in busy villages where the activity of people and dogs help to keep wildlife away. Knowing that he would be alone in the wilderness, Proenneke chose to build his cache on taller poles to help decrease the odds of a bear breaking in.” The poles are wrapped in tin to deter smaller rodents. He built everything with hand tools–and he built his hand tools himself. When the tools broke, he repaired them himself. Everyone agrees the cabin is remarkable for its craftsmanship. He documented the process and you can watch it online via the documentary Alone in the Wilderness. (It’s very popular on PBS. This linked video is mostly animal footage. I found it so soothing.)
Proenneke was 52 when he began construction of his cabin, and it took two summers to complete the build-out. A friend had applied for a lease on the tract of land he used, but the friend became terminally ill and encouraged Proenneke to build on it instead.
Historically the land was inhabited by the Athabaskan Dena'ina through the early 20th century, so if you think showing up to Alaska and building a cabin is uncool on a moral level, I agree. (Kijik, a ghost town, was abandoned in the early 1900s by the Dena'ina.) Perhaps the Denaʼina would like a say in land preservation.
The cabin has three windows, more than some of the homes in Little House on the Prairie. Of course, by law, a homesteader only needed one window. Per the Homestead Act, the home had to be ten-foot by twelve-foot. (Kaczynski’s cabin was 10-feet by 14-feet, and I saw it at the Newseum. It didn’t have much inside.)
This is all more work than I am willing to do without access to wifi, plumbing, and cashew chicken. The outhouse was for visitors, which included Proenneke’s siblings. Proenneke “took to the woods on most occasions himself.” He ate a lot of fish and he never got sick (probably the lack of people).
Inside the cabin, Proenneke buried metal containers below the frost line and stored food inside, including fresh fruit.
Proenneke, who had been a sport hunter, became a subsistence hunter, using all of the animal he killed. When Congress passed Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act in 1980, he may have stopped hunting altogether. The act created over 43 million acres of parkland, including Lake Clark National Park and Preserve, home to Twin Lakes. (The park has no roads and no paved trails.) When the park became a national monument two years prior, it banned sport hunting and limited subsistence hunting to “local qualified residents of five subsistence zoned villages.”
Proenneke salvaged game meat left by poachers. He did this throughout his thirty-year stay, however: “Proenneke felt it was necessary for hunters to salvage as much of the edible meat as was possible, including the neck, ribs and tenderloins in order for the animal to be completely legally and ethically harvested. He saw several instances of sport hunters simply taking the four quarters from caribou and then hiding the dismembered carcasses beneath the branches of spruce trees.”
It turns out we do have a little in common: “Proenneke grew so assertive in his opposition to wanton waste of game animals that he risked open verbal confrontation with people who he had previously been on cordial terms. Increasingly he was running out of patience even with old friends who only salvaged a bare minimum of the meat.” In the 1990s he served park staff moose meat stew from a wolf-killed carcass he found.
(This year I’m trying to butt out of everyone’s business! You may not be so lucky, reader. I'm not out of patience with you.)
Proenneke’s diet was almost meatless. He ate “mostly oatmeal, sourdough hot cakes and biscuits, bacon, eggs, beans, and just about anything else friends brought him along with the fish he continued to catch.”
As I wrote this I found I had more and more questions. (Answers are helpful for fleshing out a fantasy.) According to richardproennekestore.com, "The Official Richard Proenneke Website," Proenneke obtained his sourdough through an "elderly trapper" he met on Kodiak Island. The trapper got it in 1937 at the Kuskokwim River. Proenneke brought the starter on his visits to Twin Lakes and again when he moved.
Babe Alsworth, who landed the first plane on the lake in the 1940s, would visit Proenneke with supplies. The Alsworth family shared groceries and often delivered mail; Babe founded Port Alsworth and his wife Mary was the first postmaster. Alsworth also delivered orders placed through the Sears catalog. I imagine it was mostly clothing, but you could get almost anything from a Sears catalog back then.
I wondered what it would be like to swim in the lake. In the video I linked above, Proenneke says he never had trouble with his canoe, but if he did, “it would probably be the last,” because 200 yards from shore in water that cold would be insurmountable. (I know you wondered, too.) What a casual way to acknowledge living on the precipice of annihilation.
Proenneke willed his cabin to the National Park Service when he moved to Hemet, California in 1999 to live with his brother. He was 83 and felt he was too old to care for himself. He died in 2003 from a stroke. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2007.
The cabin is popular with tourists, and can be visited by plane: “There are no suitable beaches or runways for wheeled planes, so visitors traveling in the summer will need a plane that operates on floats. Winter landings can take place on wheels, skis, or wheeled-skis depending on the snow and ice conditions.” Park rangers and volunteers give tours of the site–but the cabin is closed in the winter.
The Carrithers' cabin still stands, too. Visiting it is advertised on The Farm Lodge website. The Farm Lodge is one of the few places to stay near Lake Clark, though the park has two cabins for reservation.
My cabin by Twin Lakes is a one-bedroom apartment. I love the apartment I’m in now, but I’ve outgrown living with other people (so has my stuff). Living alone won’t get me away from the maelstrom of bureaucratic tragedies, but I imagine I’d feel the kind of peace Proenneke felt–and I love Crown Heights as he cared for Alaska.
Dribs and Drabs
Maybe I should visit Los Angeles in August so I can see Herbie Hancock with the original Headhunters lineup at the Hollywood Bowl. (I can’t tell you how sad I am that I’m not in Los Angeles right now! I was last year and I had such a lovely time. Will I write about it? Maybe!) I'm on the edge of my seat for more shows.
Regarding Optimum, a small life ruiner, I was leaving my apartment this fall while someone (the city? A newly-raised luxury apartment building?) was sawing into the sidewalk and my landlord’s husband sighed and said, “I thought we might finally get Fios.” A weight was lifted to learn that this man hates Optimum, too.
As for crab Rangoon, I had some in my fridge from Sweet Basil on Franklin Street while I worked on this. I got a new card and had to make sure it worked, so the only option was to walk over to Sweet Basil before NBC aired the Capitals game (they beat Boston) Saturday afternoon.
I wasn’t sure if my capitalization was right here, and I am horrified–and embarrassed–to learn that the dish was invented at Trader Vic’s in 1955. It is purely American in the worst way. Of course, it is! It contains cream cheese! Trader Vic’s is a place I want to time travel to, but I would have a terrible time because I’d be depressed by racism and cultural appropriation. (I assume, because tropical drink culture is fun as hell now but it has a dark history of racism.) I have so many warm memories of crab Rangoon, especially from Sweet Basil. The closest town to Medora is Dickinson, and it has a solid-looking Thai spot with more than one cream cheese and crab option, plus crab fried rice. (Dickinson also has excellent pizza. I have a lot of nice things to say about Dickinson!)
Because I’m tired of fighting, and flight sounds great, I wouldn’t be upset to be at Port of Call or Latitude 29 right now. We could be sitting at the bar together right now and drinking punch. My sister said once (maybe thrice) to never finish your Port of Call order, but I always do, and I'm still here.
Always your friend,
Katherine
Sources (MLA 9)
Beachbum Berry’s Latitude 29, latitude29nola.com. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
Breihan, Tom. “Herbie Hancock Announces First Show with the Original Headhunters in 50 Years.” Stereogum, 7 Feb. 2024, www.stereogum.com/2250790/herbie-hancock-announces-first-show-with-the-original-headhunters-in-50-years/news.
“Cabin Alone in the Alaskan Wilderness - Dick Proenneke.” YouTube, YouTube, 21 Aug. 2018, www.youtube.com/watch?v=hy-4NxJRxNQ.
“Crab Rangoon.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 8 Feb. 2024, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crab_Rangoon.
Dale, Jane. “Legends in Alaska Aviation: Glen Alsworth.” Anchorage Daily News, Anchorage Daily News, 30 June 2016, www.adn.com/bush-pilot/article/legends-alaska-aviation-glen-alsworth/2012/09/29.
“The Farm Lodge.” Lake Clark and Katmai National Park, www.thefarmlodge.com/national-parks.html. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
Griffioen, Jim. “Dick Proenneke (1916-2003).” Sweet Juniper Inspiration, June 2010, www.sweetjuniperinspiration.com/2010/06/dick-proenneke-1916-2003.html.
Hill, Katherine. “Urban Fauna: The Prospect Park Alligator.” RSS, 28 Feb. 2023, buttondown.email/KatherineMHill/archive/urban-fauna-the-prospect-park-alligator.
“Kijik (Qizhjeh) National Historic Landmark.” National Parks Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, www.nps.gov/lacl/learn/historyculture/kijik.htm. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
“Lake Clark National Park and Preserve.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 29 Oct. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Clark_National_Park_and_Preserve.
“Lake Clark National Park and Preserve.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 29 Oct. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Clark_National_Park_and_Preserve.
“Lake Clark National Park.” Fodor’s The Complete Guide to the National Parks of the USA, Fodor’s, 2022, pp. 575–581.
“Lake Clark National Park: Bear Viewing.” Alaska Tour & Travel, www.alaskatravel.com/parks/lake-clark. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
“Lincoln, Montana.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 14 Sept. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lincoln,_Montana.
“Port Alsworth, Alaska.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 25 Sept. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Alsworth,_Alaska.
Port of Call, 31 Oct. 2022, portofcallnola.com.
“Proenneke’s Cabin.” National Parks Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, www.nps.gov/lacl/learn/historyculture/proennekes-cabin.htm. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
“Richard Proenneke Sourdough Starter Spoons.” The Richard Proenneke Store, richardproennekestore.com/sourdough. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
“Richard Proenneke.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 28 Jan. 2024, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Proenneke.
“Visit Twin Lakes.” National Parks Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, www.nps.gov/lacl/planyourvisit/visit-proenneke-cabin.htm. Accessed 16 Feb. 2024.
