Russian surprises Part 1

Korsakov, Russia, is a small city on the south end of Sakhalin Island  Basically it's just north of Japan's OkieDokie Island (Hokkaido Island).

Korsakov turned out to be a good lesson on why you shouldn't trust Wikipedia to always get things correct.  According to Wikipedia, Korsakov is a small, dumpy, back water refuge for the Russian mafia. When you land in the harbor, that seems like a reasonable description:

Not sure if that's a mustache or baleen

None of us could figure out what the deal was with the car rear ends.

Sort of looks like art.

"Cadillac Ranch" Amarillo, Texas circa 1974

Current condition.

The city of Korsakov is a 20 minute bus ride from the port. In 20 minutes you go from decrepit port buildings to a modern, clean, new, posh, hip, thriving small city of 38,000.

Way cool antenna. Probably connects directly to US voting machines.

What the hell? Where did all this money come from? Welllllll
what Wikipedia failed to mention is that just off the coast the Russians discovered a huge natural gas field. The high-  pressure pipeline to transport all that wealth is 4' in diameter (and requires a Russian soldier stationed every kilometer to keep the mafia from tapping in). 

Russians always love their war memorials.  Korsakov is no exception.

Tommy guns? (the drum magazines do give them a certain look)

Tommy gun held Chicago style

Right next to the war memorial was a small group of boy teenagers skateboarding (and hoping for some girlskis to show up.)

Doesn't it look like he (or his grandfather) posed for the statue above?

These teenage boys did more good for US / Russian relations than any propaganda coming out of Moscow or Washington. They were polite and gracious to a bunch of old Americans interrupting their skateboarding.

More non-smiling Russian busts

Gorgeous church (not open so I won't bore you with inside shots)

The blue tiles were stunning

Huge blue skylight. I couldn't get close enough to figure out if the scaffolding rotates and was used to clean the glass, or it was just a means to service the flagpole. 

The war memorial has enshrined the perfect object as it's centerpiece display:

This is the famous T-34 tank

The T-34 tank was to Russia what the Spitfire was to Britain

The T-34 played a pivotal role for the Russians in WW II. It was very well designed (it set the standard for tank design for decades) and it's 3" gun was deadly against the invading Germans. It's biggest claim to fame, however, was cost and simplicity. Quite simply, the Russians could manufacture them faster than the Germans could destroy them (much like the story of the American Liberty supply ships vs. the U boats). The Russians built 80,000 of them and the Germans only managed to blow up 44,900 (good for mother Russia, bad for the tank crews facing less than 50/50 odds). Reminds me of coach Don Shula's NFL record - most wins of any coach, but also the most losses.

If you know tanks (I don't) you'll notice that this isn't a Russian T-34 on display off to the side in the memorial park.

It is, in fact, a Japanese tank left over from one of the times Japan claimed the peninsula (they ceded Korsakov in negotiations with the Russians culminating in the 1875 Treaty of St. Petersburg). In WW II Japan tried to take it back again.

This is a picture of the tank's gun loading mechanism (i.e. it's the back end of the gun). If you're curious how you prevent the afore pictured teenage boys from trying to make a neat tank display go BANG! the chunk of metal in the gun's breech makes it impossible.

This statue of a mother morning the loss of her sons in the war is the most heart-wrenching sculpture I've ever seen.

On a happier note - what trip to Russia would be complete without the influence of vodka?

A Cadillac Escalade limo pulled up to the war memorial we were visiting to stage a couple of wedding photos.

The best man (?not sure) on the right was barely able to walk (didn't have any trouble shouting and having a grand ole time). Sure hope he wasn't the limo driver.

I must have visited Korsakov on "wedding day".  We saw several wedding parties:

This is the dress I said yes to.

"OK I posed, now leave me alone"

These bridesmaids are babushkas? Boy, did the drab, old, dreary history books get it wrong.

Had time to visit the local museum of natural history.  A couple of the taxidermy specimens were spectacular.

"Are you the one who has a small pet dog named Tilly? Those are called 'snacks'. "   
This wolf specimen was put on display only months ago. You would have to have nerves of steel and zero imagination to be the museum nightwatchman.

No clue.  Fetal sturgeon? (there's a joke there but you have to dig for it) Nerve gas experiment?

Finished the tour with lunch at the local mall food court:

Those 'crazy tacos' look a lot like hamburgers to me.

English ad?

I did NOT travel all the way to outer Russia to eat a subway sandwich.

Is "Fast-Food" an international term? 

If you're wondering what kind of food Bubo's offers, I'm not 100% sure, but it is fast though.

There is a very dark side to the history of Korsakov that I've deliberately chosen to pass on.  Korsakov was a penal colony for much of it's existence. The museum had a large display depicting all the horrors. Trust me, you're better off not knowing the details.

Nome Alaska to

I always imagined that Nome, Alaska was a tiny little remote village near the top of the world. I was almost right.

It is a tiny, remote place. But it isn't all that far north (roughly about the middle of Sweden latitude-wise). Nothing good happens in Alaska without the cooperation of the weather. Nome was no exception:

Foggy, mid 50's, with a 4 - 5 foot swell.  Ironically, a couple days earlier Nome broke an all-time high record with an 86 degree sunny day. (5 degrees hotter than previous record).

Nome doesn't have a harbor big enough for a cruise ship so it was tender time:

I had booked an early morning photography tour (hoped to see musk ox, caribou, pandas, - the usual cast of Alaskan characters) so I was able to get aboard the first tender headed to shore. Boarding a tender in 3 foot seas (even though the captain maneuvered the ship to shelter the tenders in it's lee) is not for people with mobility issues. We did, however, manage to load up a group of determined souls and headed into the small harbor. Victory was short-lived as we were not allowed to disembark. The deteriorating weather forced us to return to the ship while we still could. This was probably a very wise move as Nome is a village of only 3,800 people.  Stranding several hundred tourists on shore would have been a serious problem. I really felt sorry for the mayor of Nome as they had organized a berry festival for us (Nome only gets 4 cruise ships a year). On the way in I was able to get a hint of what the place is all about:

Jack-up rig

If you guessed gold prospecting, you're correct.  Long before gold was discovered for the first time (1898) the place was just a fishing camp for the Inupiat natives. Note - Don't call them Eskimos. The Inupait can trace their roots to the Inuits. The Inuits, in turn, are the people who  inhabit the entire "circumpolar" (top of the world) region (including northern Greenland, upper Canada, Siberia).  The Inupaits probably knew there was gold lying around, but since you can't eat gold and it won't keep you warm - they could not have cared less.  No so the "Three Lucky Swedes" who stumbled across gold in Anvil creek in 1898.  Word leaked out and within a year  Nome had 10,000 prospectors scratching around. They found gold just sitting in the sand on the beaches - which drove the gold frenzy to new heights. 

In 1900 the tent city on the beach stretched more than 30 miles

One such hopeful was none other than Wyatt Earp himself (Tombstone Arizona to Nome must have been quite a trip). By the turn of the century Nome was the largest city in Alaska (boasting 60 saloons). It was a rowdy, mostly lawless frontier town. As usual, wherever there's money - some shady politician will try to figure out a way to get their hands on it without having to go out and dig it up themselves.  Enter the Donald Trump of the era - Alexander McKenzie. McKenzie was a sleazy politician from North Dakota known as "the senator-maker".  He was head of the RNC for many years.  He managed to appoint an equally corrupt federal judge to handle all the claim jumper lawsuits. Between the two of them they conspired to rob anyone dumb enough to enter their court (both eventually were sent to prison). This spectacle of injustice inspired Rex Beach to write the best selling novel 'The Spoilers' in 1906.

Rex Beach.  Author and Olympic water polo player.

'The Spoilers' inspired no less than 5 Hollywood movies.

By Source (WP:NFCC#4), Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36820561

In 10 years the gold fields had played out for the technology available at the time and Nome's population shrank back to 2,500. The majority of today's population of 3,800 continues to prospect for gold (it is estimated that 1,000,000 troy ounces remain). This, of course, makes for reality TV fodder:

Is it just me or does this look like a vial of sand?

Gold Rush

After the initial gold rush frenzy, Nome would have faded into obscurity except for an epidemic one awful winter in 1925.  

1916

The town's only doctor (Curtis Welch) initially thought he had a few cases of tonsillitis on his hands. When 4 of his patients died however, he knew he had a much worse problem - diphtheria. Diphtheria is a bacteria infection that is easily transmitted and can quickly spread. The toxin it secretes is rather nasty and can cause all kinds of life-threatening symptoms.  Antitoxin is critical to saving the life of anyone infected. 

1895 vial of antitoxin

The tiny Nome hospital actually had some vials of antitoxin, but they had all expired. Dr. Welch tried the expired antitoxin on his next patient, a 4 year old girl. She died within hours. The harsh winter conditions precluded any chance of flying in fresh serum. In 1925 there were only 3 airplanes in all of Alaska (all Standard J open cockpit biplanes, dismantled for winter storage, and no pilots). 

Standard J biplane - NOT something you want try to fly in an Alaskan winter. No heater, no anti-icing, unreliable engine, short range, navigation by compass ground observation and prayer.

Shipping by sea would take too long as Nome was icebound and no ship could get into port until spring.  To make matters worse, diphtheria antitoxin is rather fragile.  Welch calculated that it would survive for only 6 days outside in the harsh winter conditions.  Things were looking grim, to say the least. The town folks that had moved to Nome from the lower US had only a slight chance of surviving an infection. The Alaskan natives had no immunity, hence, no chance at all. Welch put out a radio telegram call for help. There simply wasn't any antitoxin anywhere close.  Then, by an incredible stroke of luck, the chief surgeon of the Anchorage Railroad Hospital found a small supply of forgotten antitoxin in a back storeroom.  It was immediately shipped via rail to end of the line - Nenana, still 674 miles away from Nome. The day was saved by "The Great Race of Mercy".  20 mushers and 150 sled dogs managed to make the 674 mile run from Nenana to Nome in just 5 1/2 days - saving the town. The sled teams endured whiteout conditions -70 temps and gale force winds. It was a truly miserable trip. At some stops they had to pour hot water over the gloves of the handlers to get them off the sled handlebars.  

The saga received widespread radio coverage and captured the imagination of the world. So who were these heroic mushers?  Mailmen, mostly native Alaskans. While all the mushers survived (some with severe frostbite) not all of the dogs did. The team that made the last push to Nome became quite famous in the lower 48.

Gunnar Kaasen with his dog, Balto

Balto did one helluva job.  At points during the run Gunnar reported conditions were so bad that he couldn't even see the dog closest to the sled. Balto, however, managed to navigate in those conditions and saved the day (by contrast my wimpy dog gets lost walking more than a block away from the house in broad daylight).

Balto captured the imagination of the public and a statute of him was placed in Central Park, NYC in 1925.  As with all things, the statue isn't without controversy. Some claim that Balto's real name was Fox, but the media liked the name Balto better. The statue also shows Balto wearing Togo's awards.

While Balto got most of the glory in the lower US, he isn't considered the real hero to Alaskans.

To Alaskans, the real hero is this dog - Togo. "the dog that often gets credit for eventually saving the town is Balto, but he just happened to run the last, 55-mile leg in the race. The sled dog who did the lion's share of the work was Togo. His journey, fraught with white-out storms, was the longest by 200 miles and included a traverse across perilous Norton Sound — where he saved his team and driver in a courageous swim through ice floes."

In 1973 Alaskans organized the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.  The word Iditarod has been variously ascribed to the Idatarod river, "Clear Water", "distant place". 

Krista Heeringa

Initially it was merely a way to compare dog teams mushers and dogs, but managed to capture (once again) world public interest. 

Not all dogs get the hang of it.

With some much attention focused on the race, naturally it became highly competitive. It has been referred to as 'The Last Great Race on Earth'. Today's Iditarod is billed as Anchorage to Nome (1,049 brutal miles). They have a ceremonial start in Anchorage:

but the real race starts in Willow, about 80 miles north of Anchorage. Generally about 50 teams and 1,000 dogs race. 

The end of the race:

Race result times vary greatly.  The fastest time to traverse the route is 8 days 3 hours set in 2017. In 1974 it took poor Carl Huntington more than 20 days to win the race. 

A red lantern is "awarded" to the last place finisher. The tradition began as a way for each of the way-stations to signal that there was someone out on the trail. In 1973 it took poor John Schultz more than 32 days to complete the course (I would have called Uber the first afternoon).