8 Years of Gratitude

In about an hour from now (around 01:00), I will have landed to visit UAF for a long weekend exactly 8 years ago. My, how the time flies.

A few weeks ago I realized that – for the first time ever – I had completely forgotten that March 20th marked the anniversary of my puppy Pixie’s passing. If anyone missed my sob story about how she directly connects with my college decision, here’s the link to My Journey North.

After living the first 18 years of my life in the same house, I can say I haven’t spent more than 4 consecutive months in one residence in the last 8 years. In fact, while working on my federal background check for my US Fish & Wildlife position, I’ve determined that I’ve “lived”/traveled in over 20 places in the last 5 years.

All of my moving around in the 4 years since I graduated college has definitely been a bit tiring and stressful at times, but it’s also always exciting. Just looking through my pictures gives me the travel bug. Although maybe I’ll never have enough money to retire, I’ve taken to saying, “I can’t wait to retire!” Being only 26 and having never held a normal job for longer than a year of school, it’s safe to pronounce me “doomed.”

Living with packed bags on a prayer has made me realize a few things:

• Fairbanks must not be a bad place. It’s as close to a home as I’ve had since leaving for college…
• … yet I always find myself leaving. Whatever I’m hoping to find just isn’t here right now.

• I’m not very skilled in the ways of normal life, such as dealing with car ownership, the details of housing agreements, budgeting for a typical month, treating myself to nice dinners, indoor jobs, etc…
• … but I’m good at finding myself cheap transportation and lodging for budget travel, trying to reconnect with friends in travel locations, trying local foods/food joints when I’m hungry, people watching during solo travel, living in the middle of nowhere, and working with wildlife.

• I’m fortunate to have supportive parents and friends who think I’m crazy but don’t actively try to stop me from enjoying my different kind of life.
• … and I couldn’t do it without them.

I live off my own means and work on paying back student loans, but my Dad is my unofficial financial adviser who lets me know about consolidating my random retirement accounts, opening IRAs, and suggesting when a certain amount of money should go where. Since apparently my high school and university – like many – aren’t wise enough to require every student to take a personal finance course as part of a core curriculum, I have virtually no useful background in money management or the language of finances. Ours is a complex world that will swallow one’s money if one is not careful, so fortunately my parents raised my brother and me to be thrifty. I’m also fortunate that my parents are admittedly envious of places I’ve worked and the type of work I do.

Lastly to my friends near and far, in Alaska and the Lower 48, New Zealand and Europe. Maybe we were good friends in high school and you’ve now dealt with my infrequent visits or haven’t even seen me for years. Perhaps we were study buddies, lived in the same dorm, or watched the aurora until 03:00 from the campus trails at UAF. Some of you I’ve only known for a couple years through post-college town and field jobs. A couple of you were placed in my path through some faulty planning of my own. One of you I’d never even met until I got off the train in Vancouver, and I was just trusting a friend’s reference. Whoever you are and for however long I’ve known you, thanks for being a friend and for reading this, because I’ve also learned that as much as I’m grateful for everything,

• My thank you’s are never as complete as I’d like them to be.

So many of my travels would not be possible without my scattered friends. Since so much of my life involves solo travel, it’s nice to be connected to friends when I’m on the road. To anyone who has put me up on a couch for days or weeks, given me a mattress on the floor, shared a tent, let me sleep in a kennel, or given me a spare bedroom and storage: you have my deepest gratitude. I’ve been so thankful for the chance to visit, sleep, and keep up with your lives. Thank you for the rides, bike loans, food, beer, and laughter. Through your generosity I’ve been able to continue with these trips; believe me, I’ve already concocted a possible option or 2 for fall.

Whether I know you or not, thanks for reading the sometimes random thoughts of a wandering ginger. Hopefully I’ve entertained you or somehow added to your day with my entries.

When I flew here to Fairbanks to visit 8 years ago, I didn’t fully realize how much my life would change. I guess I really should be saying, “Thanks, Alaska.”

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It’s Me!

Courtesy of the best, Teri

Most people who know me have heard the story of how I ended up with a custom degree in Nature Photojournalism. For those of you who don’t know, I’ll keep the explanation short. As I progressed with wildlife biology courses at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, it seemed that lectures dealt less with wildlife and more with statistics, reports, and desk work. [Insert big yawn here.]

Did I really leave Michigan for ALASKA to get an education in how to research academic journals for references in “the literature” and how to number crunch? Absolutely not! I wanted a degree for a job that would keep me outside, either working with wildlife or being able to see it while on the job. Just think about it. Does Steph, a quiet ginger who doesn’t really talk in groups unless she has something she feels important enough to say, belong at a computer behind a desk or sitting in meetings? No. Does Steph, a quiet ginger who happily bikes through the snow, runs through the woods, and backpacks through New Zealand, belong outside in remote field camps with only a few other like-interested people? 100% yes.

Instead of slogging my way through courses that didn’t particularly interest me, I took my advisor’s and professors’ advice on changing majors. The only problem was that there wasn’t a degree for what I wanted to study; fortunately I managed to create my own degree through the interdisciplinary program. By combining courses in wildlife biology, natural resources management, and journalism to create a degree tailored to my interests, I graduated with a major in Nature Photojournalism and hopes for outdoor employment.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t feel like there’s enough freedom or happiness in offices full of cubicles. Life runs on a daily schedule, and generally people are expected to wear clothing other than Carhartts, hiking boots, and a plaid shirt. Where’s the fun in that?

I much prefer having the great outdoors as my office. Does it get better than this?

Field Season 1: Spectacled Eider research on the North Slope, Alaska

Measuring Red-throated Loon eggs in my office

Goofing off with my co-worker Katie. Like the float coats?

Isn’t he gorgeous?




 

Eider nest hunting crew, Colville River Delta 2009

Helicopter-enabled camp on the National Petroleum Reserve – Alaska

Chest waders make you invincible!

 

Field Season 2: Thick-billed Murre and Red-Legged Kittiwake research on St. George Island, Bering Sea, Alaska

Colony of ~100,000 Least Auklets = awesome

Fox on the 1,000-foot “High Bluffs”

Brie in our kittiwake-catching office




Hunting for caribou on an abnormally warm and sunny day

Kittiwake productivity watch on High Bluffs

Slade and I went swimming in the Bering

 

Field Season 3: North Island Brown Kiwi research, Hauraki Gulf, New Zealand

Dave and Ros in the middle of shearing season

Tweety, my first kiwi

View from top of Kumara Hill on kiwi island





On top of Mount Doom

From my limited knowledge, maybe my favorite tramp in NZ

Home.

 

Extras casting call for “The Hobbit”

Beekeeping at hives supposedly once owned by Sir Edmund Hilary’s family

Shadowfax, my loyal steed + home on wheels

 

Field Season 4: Wolf, caribou, moose, and deer scat research, Oil Sands of NE Alberta

Photos in the making. 🙂

Whew, my mind went off on a tangent. Wondering what the point of all those photos is? I’m just showing how much fun it is to work outside. I guarantee I’d have a collection of pretty boring photos or not many photos at all if I worked in an office. Instead, I just went on an emotional rollercoaster as I perused my files to somehow pick those select few photos shown above.

I’ve gotten the impression that some of my family thinks I’m being irresponsible and careless about the future by not searching for “permanent” jobs. I’m not setting up a 401K – I honestly still don’t even know what that’s for – or starting a retirement fund. I don’t have my own car or living space; my possessions are spread between Washington, a storage unit, and my parents’ in Michigan. (Many people don’t realize the beauty of most field jobs: no living expenses for months and months!)

I’m not my brother, who graduated from MIT with a computer science degree and an immediate permanent job at Mozilla Firefox in Cali. He loves travel and the outdoors just like I do (he’s through-hiked the Appalachian Trail and biked across the US), but he has the luxury of being able to work from virtually anywhere with an internet connection. He has a job he thoroughly enjoys, travel time, and a perfectly solid income. How many people can say that?

What’s my long term plan or career goal? Haha, that’s funny! I don’t know of a stable job I’d enjoy working for my whole life. (the key word being stable) All my field experiences have been unbelievable, and I’d gladly have continued those for months longer. Getting paid to travel for Outside magazine or something similar would be great, but it’s not as if I’m striving to get there now. The world of biology fieldwork is just too unpredictable for normal goal setting, so I can’t say which direction I’m headed in life. I’m intrigued by so many job postings that I could never possibly try everything I’d like.

My personal issue with the fieldwork realm is a strange one: I both hate and love change.

Before I left for college in Alaska, I’d never faced a big change. My family never moved, so home was always the same place surrounded by the same people. Going to Alaska was completely out of character, as I’m not the most outgoing person. Everything obviously turned out for the best seeing as how I had many remarkable experiences throughout my college years. Yet each time I left Fairbanks for a summer field job, I grew somewhat nervous and sad about leaving friends and comforts behind; I never really knew what to expect from my boss or job. However, by the time each field season drew to a close, I had plenty of tears to shed.

Last time leaving the kiwi island, and a camera found me.

For many reasons I always fall in love with the unique places, experiences, and people with whom I work. My life has become a ridiculous cycle of happiness and agony. Please, don’t even ask me how I dealt with leaving New Zealand.

As much as a side of me longs for a nice house with a full kitchen, my own dog, and a normal schedule, there are too many adventures to be had. I want to do fieldwork in the Aleutians and Antarctica. I want to skydive over Glenorchy, NZ. I need to actually learn German. I could go on with wants and needs, but you really don’t want me to do that. 😉

So at least for now, this is me. Sorry that I don’t conform to the standard, but the standard doesn’t suit me. No, I probably won’t have much money for awhile, but just think of all the unusual experiences I’m having because of it! Since I have no boy or puppy to hold me back, I’m free to explore! I don’t care if that means sleeping in a car on random streets or living off the cereal/PB&J diet. In my opinion, that’s what the uncertainty of being a seasonal field technician is all about. (I’m pretty sure Bilbo would agree.)

Walk to the cabin from campus. (also courtesy of Teri)

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