Stories about building a life in the Alaskan wilderness

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Out Here

SEASON II: INTRODUCTION























 
















































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  

























  
    “We may be the breadbasket of the nation someday...I’d like to be on the forefront of that.”
  
  — Scott Mugrage, Mugrage Hay & Cattle, Delta Junction, Alaska




  EPISODE NOTESIt’s a grey morning in early March. I’m curled up by the window inside my cabin in McCarthy, Alaska, miles and miles from a grocery store or a restaurant or many other markers of modern American life. Across the room, the wood stove pumps.We’ve had the coldest winter since I first moved here five years ago. Some community members who’ve been here far longer said they hadn’t seen those kinds of sustained cold temperatures in a long time. It’s been refreshing, in a way. Especially after a particularly hot summer that felt a lot like climate change in action. It was scary. Wildfires hit places that are usually soaked in rain. Things felt on edge here, like they might explode at any moment.Outside the cabin, tiny snow flurries dot the air. A couple feet of packed snow covers the forest floor, but the spruce trees stand naked, a reminder that things aren’t exactly back to normal. The trees shed the snow from their branches a few weeks ago after a warm spell. The river broke too.


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            The glacially-fed Kennicott River has been breaking mid-winter for the last few years. (Erin McKinstry / February 2020)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  The glacier’s been doing that the last few years, letting go of a rush of water in the middle of winter. The frozen rivers are no longer reliable highways, which can spell trouble for subsistence activities. Things are changing all over Alaska. And that means good and bad things for all kinds of industries, including agriculture. Mike Emers has been farming outside Fairbanks since 1997. “Yeah, it's a big gamble farming,” Emers said. “but it’s gotten less so with the changing climate.”


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            Mike Emers stands in a field of marijuana at his farm outside Fairbanks, Alaska. He transitioned from growing vegetables to growing pot following legalization in the state. (Erin McKinstry / July 2019)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  On season two of Out Here: Alaska agriculture and what climate change could mean for its future. Maybe, you didn’t even know you could grow things in Alaska. Here you’ll meet some of the innovative people giving it a go.
































  Growing here is no easy task. To make space for gardening, most people have to clear their own land and mix their own soil. I have no earthworms, no garden supply store, no tap to turn to water the garden in a mercilessly hot and dry July. And I’m just doing it for myself. What if you’re chasing a farming dream here, that somewhat romantic notion that we can work the land locally and provide for our community instead of using massive amounts of energy acquiring food from far away places? In Alaska, that means investing time and money into a business venture that’s risky in places with better infrastructure and a more hospitable climate. Starting out can be a bit nerve-racking, said Sally Boisvert, who farms outside the southeast Alaska town of Haines. “It was a challenge at first thinking, oh my gosh, I’ve done all this work clearing this land, will anyone want any vegetables?” Boisvert said.


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            Sally Boisvert and her two young children enter one of several high tunnels on her farm outside of Haines, Alaska. During the summer months, Boisvert runs the farm alone while her husband fishes. (Erin McKinstry / August 2019)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  And then there’s the knowledge. I didn’t grow up with a big vegetable patch in the backyard, and I didn’t grow up in Alaska. Neither did Boisvert, although she did come to the state with agricultural experience. Still, it was a challenge.“Then the challenge became, okay, let’s figure out how to grow things at 60 degrees North latitude, which is very different from 45 degrees North, which is where I’d been farming previously in Maine,” she said.Yes, the long summer days can mean giant heads of cabbage and a fast turnover for certain vegetables. But Alaska’s growing season is also short and full of unpredictable and extreme weather patterns. That’s something that only seems to have gotten worse in recent years, says farmer Tenley Nelson, who lives about 50 miles down the road from me. “I think it’s the unstableness of the weather that’s the most frustrating. Too much rain, then no rain at all. Too hot,” Nelson said.


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            Tenley Nelson feeds her chickens at her farm in Strelna, Alaska. Nelson began advertising her produce for the first time last year. (Erin McKinstry / September 2019)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  But despite the challenges—known and unknown--I’m not alone in my gardening adventures here. It’s almost a given that you have some sort of garden in and around McCarthy, even if it’s just full of greens. There’s no big grocery store, and no local farmer’s market either.“You can't buy organic garlic anywhere. You can't drive anywhere within five hours and get that product,” Nelson said. “But I can grow it and share it a little bit.”


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            Some of Tenley Nelson’s garlic harvest for the summer of 2019. (Erin McKinstry / September 2019)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  Some places in Alaska aren’t as removed from food supply chains, but most food is still coming up on a barge from faraway places. And that leads to something that gets talked about quite a bit in Alaska: food security. It’s something many of the farmers I talked to brought up.
































  Alaskans are an independent bunch. Many provide for themselves whenever they can. The Alaska Native tradition of subsistence is strong: hunting, fishing, foraging, berry picking. The homesteading tradition is strong too: raising chickens, growing and canning food, making a weekly loaf of sourdough, that kind of stuff.And then there’s the tradition of farming, where people feed themselves and their neighbors. It’s never been huge compared to regions like the Midwest, but it has been persistent. Some farmers even dream of feeding the rest of the country someday, like Scott Mugrage, a cattle rancher in Delta Junction, the once planned hub of a barley export industry. “We may be the breadbasket of nation someday,” Mugrage said. “With the storm challenges and things going on in the lower 48 anymore, you know, and we very well have the potential to do that here, I think. And so, I’d like to be on the forefront of that.”


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
          
          
            Scott Mugrage looks out on a field at his cattle ranch and farm near Delta Junction, Alaska. Mugrage and his son moved up from the Midwest after finding their land on the internet. (Erin McKinstry / July 2019)
          
        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  Welcome to Season Two of Out Here, a podcast about life in rural Alaska. Here you’ll get some of the complicated story of Alaska agriculture from the perspective of Alaska farmers. It’s a story full of failure and innovation, one that defies stereotypes and looks quite a bit different from the mono-crop agriculture that dominates the lower 48.We’ll fly to the Arctic to meet an Iñupiat woman who’s mixing Western agriculture with Native traditions. We’ll meet an apple grower, a cattle rancher and a seed grower. And we’ll talk about where we’ve been, where we’re going and what climate change could mean for farming here.  Maybe, by the end of it, you’ll want to plant something too. Stay tuned and stay persistent. 
Music from Blue Dot Sessions: Vibrant Canopy, Moon Bicycle Theme, Vela-Vela, Wistful / Featuring Mike Emers of Rosie Creek Farm, Kevin Irvin of Sundog Orchard, Rainey Nasuġraq Hopson of Gardens in the Arctic, Leah Wagner of Foundroot, Ina Jones of Alaska Homestead Peonies, Sally Boisvert of Four Winds Farm, Tenley Nelson of Wood Frog Farm, Scott & Justin Mugrage of Mugrage Cattle & Hay, Brian Olson of Alaska Berries, Pete & Lynn Mayo of Spinach Creek Farm and Rita Jo Shoultz of Alaska Perfect Peony / Financial Assistance from the Rasmuson Foundation























 

SEASON II: Introduction

On this episode, we'll travel to the southeastern Alaska town of Haines, where farmland is scarce. There we'll meet two beginning farmers using all the persistence and optimism they can muster to start farms and nudge a budding local food movement. We'll talk about the lessons farming teaches about the natural world--for children and adults. And we'll discuss what it's like to farm in a place without a strong agricultural tradition.

II.I CLEARING LAND

On this episode, we'll meet Nasugraq Rainey Hopson. She and her project Gardens in the Arctic live in Anaktuvuk Pass, about 90 miles north of the Arctic Circle. There isn’t exactly a lot of farming going on here. But Rainey Hopson is not the kind of person who cares about what’s normal. We’ll talk about climate change, food security, the Inupiaq connection to plants and so much more. We’ll hear all about Rainey’s project and the agricultural revolution she’s plotting up there in the Arctic.

II.II THE MIXING ZONE

The state has more land and a lower population density than any other. Dreams to clear swaths of it, feed the state and export crops to Asia have come and gone over the years. On this episode, We'll travel to the Fairbanks Experiment Farm to meet the researcher growing wheat. We’ll hear more about the history of those ambitions, the obstacles they’ve faced and what climate change could mean for their future.  Then, we’ll meet a cattle rancher and farmer who’s doing his best to keep that dream alive.

II.III THE BREADBASKET

Then, we’ll talk about how Mike Emers of Rosie Creek Farm has seen Alaska’s agricultural scene evolve in the 22 years since he started farming. And of course, we’ll hear his thoughts on how climate change is influencing his work. 

II.IV A GREEN EVOLUTION

 


  BONUS: THE CARROT KING & QUEEN


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  

























  
    “There is demand. I think you can grow and sell anything. There’s not enough farmers.”
  
  — Lynn Mayo, Spinach Creek Farm, outside Fairbanks, AK




  Like a lot of the farms in Alaska, Spinach Creek Farm is a clearing in the forest at the end of a dirt road. An electric fence surrounds the 10-acre farm to keep the moose out. There’s chickens; a greenhouse full of tomatoes; rows of beets, potatoes and cabbage. And of course, carrots. Thirty rows of them to be exact. “We started with like seven rows and then sold them in a day,” Lynn Mayo said when I visited on a warm day in August.


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  Lynn and her husband Pete started the farm in 1994. They cleared the land themselves. And like so many other Alaskans and particularly Alaskan farmers, they had to be pioneers. “You can’t find a lot of equipment,” Lynn said. “You have to go outside. You have to get it up here.” Or, you have to build it yourself. They both work on the farm full-time in the summer, and they spend their winters fixing what’s broken and building new infrastructure. Like their greenhouse with in-floor heating, or Pete’s carrot-washing contraption that he built after he saw a picture of one. He also built something like a conveyer belt to get the heavy crates of carrots from the ground to the washer.








































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  Pete shies away from the microphone when he comes out to meet me. He’s not the biggest talker, and there’s too much to be done. Summer in Alaska is non-stop for most of us, but for farmers especially so. He busies himself with disassembling their irrigation system for the season while we talk. August is usually a rainy month in Fairbanks, and this year—unlike most of the state—they’re getting some precipitation.


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  Pete grew up in Fairbanks, and he thinks fall is coming later than it used to. He remembers waiting until the first of October to go out on the ponds when he was a kid.“Now there's no ice the first of October, or if there is, you better not go out on it,” he said. “That really seems different.” But, he’s hesitant to rely too much on his memory to provide insight into how the area’s climate might be changing. “The big data is what’s really telling the story,” he said. “Me as a farmer, I don't know if I remember things that well. I mean some things you try to forget actually. You try to forget how horrible and rainy it was in whatever year that was.”


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  At their stand at the Tanana Valley Farmer’s Market, people line up before they’re even open. They sell out fast.“I think you could grow and sell anything,” Lynn said. “There’s not enough farmers.”They’re just growing a tiny portion of the food that people eat for the year. “It really should go up for Alaska to be able to support itself and not rely on so much trucking," she said. “There’s just satisfaction with fresher and closer and better (food).”But whether people are willing to make the effort and pay the price is a different story. “It’s hard to know if that is really important to the whole culture out there or not. You kinda get a feeling that it isn’t really important to an awful lot of people,” Pete said. “Yeah people have to work hard to go to the farmer’s market,” Lynn adds. 


































































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  













































  

    
  
    

      

      
        
          
        
        

        
          
            
          
            
                
                
                
                
                
                
                
                

            
          
        
          
        

        
      
        
      

    
  


  





  When I asked them what keeps them going on a hard day—why put in all this work? The answer is simple. “I love growing good vegetables, providing good food for people to eat,” Lynn said.“Yeah,” Pete said. “That's the short answer.”























 

BONUS: THE CARROT KING & QUEEN

On this episode, we’ll touch on an important piece of agriculture in Alaska: the legacy of homesteading and how it’s changed with the times. The harsh climate, extra expenses and nutrient-lacking soils make homesteading in Alaska particularly gritty sometimes. On episode five, we’ll meet two women who’ve proved up for the challenge. Tenley Nelson is a New England transplant who homesteads on property inherited from her husband's grandparents in Strelna, Alaska. Ina Jones farms peonies, raises horses and puts up hay with her husband Speck outside of Homer, where they've lived all their lives. On this episode, we’ll talk about climate change, subsistence, peonies, land access and so much more.

II.V HOMESTEADING

Out Here tells the stories of people who've dared to live life differently. Focused on the end-of-the-road community of McCarthy, Alaska, and the surrounding area, it explores off-the-grid living, raising children in the wilderness, bucking the 9-to-5, and living off the land. What's it really like living at the end of a 60-mile dirt road in the middle of the country's largest national park? Here you'll learn about the boundaries of freedom and what happens when a community of transplants tries to make a go of it living in the woods.

SEASON I: INTRODUCTION

McCarthy, Alaska, sits at the end of a 60-mile dirt road in the heart of the country's largest national park. Hear what drew people here, from panning for gold to searching for simplicity.

I.I HEADING NORTH

The turn of a faucet, the flip of the switch, the drive to the grocery store: things we take for granted. But what's it like to build it all from scratch?

I.II BUILDING IN THE WILDERNESS

Alarm clocks, traffic, 9-to-5 desk jobs: Meet people who've thrown all that out the window and trudged down their own dirt road.

I.III LIVING IT

The solitude scares many, but the intimacy might be more intimidating. Living through a winter with another person in a tiny cabin is no small feat. And what about raising kids? 

I.IV BUILDING RELATIONSHIPS

In the middle of the country's largest national park, people live with animals large and small, and they also live with the weather. In a place like McCarthy, the outside creeps in. Because you depend on the resources around you to survive and because you can't even go to the bathroom without venturing outside.

I.V LIVING WITH THE WILD

People come and go. Others stay for years. There's no government beyond the state. And there's all different ideas of what the community really is or what it should be. Yet, somehow, it works.

I.VI MAKING COMMUNITY

What's progress like in a place surrounded by preservation, a place who's golden age is 100 years past? Technology, access, tourism: they've all brought change to McCarthy. Is there such thing as the good old days? If you could hold back the tide, would you?