Monday 13 June 2016, week 4: Buldir Island, 8:05
For all the talk I’ve heard over the years about how how Buldir breaks people, being here to experience it is something else. I’d been joking that I needed to make it here while I was still young, but now I’m thinking that perhaps being young is no certain key to comfort, either.
Living – not just working on Buldir – is a series of slips, trips, and falls. When approaching any of the Aleutian Islands by boat, it’s easy to think, “Look at those nice green hillsides. The hiking can’t be difficult there!” Hahaha, that’s rich! The hills are indeed alive – with tall grass, putchki (cow parsnip), seabird burrows, and squishy tundra.
When attempting to land the skiff on the camp beach, first it must be determined whether a landing, which is dependent upon both the water conditions and beach substrate, is possible. Last year the crew’s arrival on-island was delayed by 3+ days due to northwesterly wind and waves. Ultimately they were dropped off on the western side and had to carry all of their food, gear, and personal items about 40 minutes (1-way, partially uphill) to reach camp. Buldir did not greet them with open arms.
This year we were fortunate to have reasonable conditions when we arrived 2 days ahead of schedule – early because we’d heard a storm with northwestern winds would be arriving at the same time as us and so we pushed ahead. The only downside of our landing was finding a rather steep cobble beach in place of last year’s sandy beach.
Hiking area #1: the beach. It’s home to all sizes of rocks, ranging from golf ball to whiffleball-sized cobble that constantly test balancing skills, to variably sized rocks that usually don’t shift underfoot, to huge boulders that shouldn’t shift underfoot but sometimes do so anyway. Hiking here requires either slow, steady walking with very deliberate foot placement or the development of a cadence for rock hopping. Either way, shifting rocks and potentially rolling an ankle are part of the deal.
If that doesn’t strike your fancy, then you can’t get to Northwest Ridge or Main Talus, our two main work sites for auklets and puffins. Instead, how about trying some storm petrel work?
Hiking area #2: the steep slopes and burrows. The hillside right behind camp is home to thousands of little burrows that house two species of storm petrel. Accessing our work plots involves walking up a straight trail through tall grass and then emerging in burrow heaven. The trail becomes a narrow mud chute, so walking involves grabbing onto dead grass to prevent slips. When in burrow country, there is no safe place to step; the danger of crushing a burrow is ever-present, no matter how cautiously you tread. We could write a song called “Highway Through the Danger Zone.”
Northwest Ridge is also a seriously steep no-go. OSHA has never visited that site, home of tall grass, putchki, crevices, rockslides, and unstable footing. A bad fall could lead to a tumble down to the beach.
If you don’t want those hazards, then you should stay off most hillsides below tundra level. Why not take a trip to Spike Camp?
Hiking area #3: the trail to Spike. The middle section of the trail is a real delight offering fairly firm tundra and nice views. Unfortunately, I’ve heard the views are not always visible, and the wind is always opposing you at the pass. Right now the start of the trail is beautiful as it follows a creek through a green canyon that gradually leads up to the pass. As the season progresses, the beginning and end of the trail will run through grass and putchki tall enough that we use machetes to shed light on where we’re actually supposed to be walking. The trail descends toward Spike Camp with another series of muddy chutes.
At least most work at Spike Camp involves sitting in one place on clifftops to watch kittiwakes and murres. The 8×8 cabin, while extremely tight for seating 3 people, does heat up really quickly, so that’s a bonus at the end of a chilly day of sitting in the cold.
Doesn’t Buldir seem like a walk in the park? For the next few months, each day of work means picking a different poison. While these poisons may not sound particularly healthy, they are very memorable and worth the risk. As the most isolated island in the Aleutians, Buldir is the lonely bully that’s mean to everyone, but befriending it is part of its draw. I’ll be tired at the end of summer and very ready to ride a rocking boat, yet I’ll be sad to say bye to the risks of Buldir.
Clearly one does not simply hike around on Buldir. My trusty knees that have never complained about my hiking are actually fairly upset with me after just 2 weeks of work. Reaching the base of Main Talus at the end of a day of clambering in kneepads around boulders on “Upper Main” and “Super Upper” already results in my knees sighing a word of thanks. There are no hills between the base and home… just 20 minutes of bouldery beach.