Birth Playlist

So, for all of those who don't already know this about me, I kind of like music.  Although my loved ones would say that this is a giant understatement, I know that there are others out there who are way bigger enthusiasts and could teach me a thing or two about the complex world of melodic art.

However, I know that there have been times in my life where music was my lifeline. I have had days where it felt as though the only thing that could get me through that tough time was that one song, that one album, that one chord, that one beat.

And the intensity of my love is not reserved only for those bad days.  Some of my best of times have been accompanied by extraordinary soundtracks as well.  One of which I will talk about in this entry.

I breathe music, feed on music, I live on music.  It has been a lifeline of mine since as long as I can remember.  I believe that this part of me comes from both the nature and nurture of my family, which is full of musicians and geeks like me.

If there was ever anything that I can get really "geeked" out about, it's the latest and the greatest of the indie, alt-country, bluegrass, or folk scene. (Although I do use these genre terms to describe different bands, I will be the first to tell you that I don't like to "categorize" or "label" an artist.  Mostly because their styles can change and surprise overnight.)

That being said, it was no surprise to my husband when I began to compile a list of songs to accompany us over the tiny speakers of our iPod player during one of the biggest days of our lives; the birth of our son, Dylan.

Oh, and while I'm talking about Dylan, have I ever mentioned that he is named after one of the greatest?  Yes, that Dylan.  Bob.

Neither Dave, nor I can remember what song was playing when our sweet baby came into this world but we do recall really enjoying having the music in the background while I labored and he coached.  For me, it was soothing and comforting in the way a warm bath can be.  For him, it was relaxing and a good distraction during some of the more intense parts of a contraction when he couldn't (even though he wanted to) take the pain away.

While I was pushing, I listened to the music and tried to list the name of each song and artist in my head, along with some random trivia that I knew about that particular artist.  This was my own form of "visualization" and it began to trickle out of my mouth and into some of the funnier conversations that were being whispered in the delivery room.

After pushing for nearly two hours, I was exhausted and began to either fall asleep or go into a crazy state of delirium in between contractions.  During one impending contraction, my eyes popped open after a three second state of unconsciousness and I blurted out, "Whoa.  I just had a dream that Nick Drake and Thom Yorke were friends."  The room was quiet.  Dave chuckled and shook his head.  And everyone else looked at me inquisitively, as though I had worms crawling out of my skull.

For any other music geeks out there you know that it is nearly impossible that Thom Yorke and Nick Drake would have ever even crossed paths as Drake had given all the music he could to this world before tragically passing away in 1974, when Thom Yorke (lead singer of Radiohead) was only six.

This random fact helped me push my way through that contraction, getting us one step closer to seeing our baby boy.  All the while, Nick Drake's beautiful and haunting "Pink Moon" hummed in the background.

And now that we are expecting our second baby, I, of course, updated and added to our birth playlist.  It is now a list of 92 songs that I have personally selected because it evokes some sort of emotion in me that I believe will help me survive the labor.  And it will help Dave stay relaxed enough so that he can be my rock, just like he was last time.

I am sharing all of this with you because, just as I know many of you are also avid music fans, I have also received the heartwarming news this month that four of my loved ones are pregnant.  And while this playlist can serve as a simple guide to some good artists and relaxing background tunes, I also wanted to share it with fellow expectant mothers who may be looking for some tracks to help them through their own deliveries. So here it is, a list for all of those who could use some relaxing playlist ideas, be they for a good day, a hard day, a chill day, a work day, or for the beautiful day you finally get to meet your new tiny human.... I hope you enjoy.

1. "January Wedding"-The Avett Brothers
2. "Momsong"-The Be Good Tanyas
3. "Here Comes the Sun"- The Beatles
4. "Beautiful World"- Colin Hay
5. "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You"- Colin Hay
6. "Landslide"- Fleetwood Mac
7. "Horsey"- Hem
8. "Half Acre"- Hem
9. "Great High Mountain"- Jack White
10. "Wayfaring Stranger"- Jack White
11. "Sitting on Top of the World"- Jack White
12. "Never Far Away"- Jack White
13. "Hallelujah"- Jeff Buckley
14. "Going California"- Led Zeppelin
15. "Pink Moon"- Nick Drake
16. "Time has Told Me"- Nick Drake
17. "I Will"- Alison Krauss
18. "This Place is Haunted"- DeVotchka
19. "Sweet Pea"- Bearfoot Bluegrass
20. "The Blackest Crow"- Bearfoot Bluegrass
21. "Roslyn"- Bon Iver & St. Vincent
22. "Skinny Love"- Bon Iver
23. "Blindsided"- Bon Iver
24. "Flume"- Bon Iver
25. "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades"- Sufjan Stevens
26. "Troubled Mind"- Yonder Mountain String Band
27. "Wind's On Fire"- Yonder Mountain String Band
28. "Solitaire"- Wilco
29. "Please Be Patient With Me"- Wilco
30. "Radio Cure"- Wilco
31. "Georgia On My Mind"- Ray Charles
32. "Stolen Car"- Patty Griffin
33. "Place to Be"- Nick Drake
34. "Horn"- Nick Drake
35. "Saturday Sun"- Nick Drake
36. "When they Ring the Golden Bells"- Natalie Merchant
37. "New Hampshire"- Matt Pond PA
38. "Godspeed (sweet dreams)"- Dixie Chicks
39. "Dogsong AKA Sleep Dog Lullaby"- The Be Good Tanyas
40. "Oh Susanna"- The Be Good Tanyas
41. "Angel Standing By"- Jewel
42. "Playing Dead"- Breathe Owl Breathe
43. "Boat"- Breathe Owl Breathe
44. "Sea of Love"- Cat Power
45. "Down in the Willow Garden"- Bon Iver (Tribute to the Chieftains)
46. "My Father's Father"- The Civil Wars
47. "Northward Bound"- Cold Country
48. "Om Nashi Me"- Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
49. "Simplest Love"- Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
50. "Hard Times"- Gillian Welch
51. "Black Star"- Gillian Welch
52. "Canned Goods"- Greg Brown
53. "Calling All Angels"- Jane Siberry
54. "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)- John Lennon
55. "Hideaway"- Karen O and the Kids
56. "Worried Shoes"- Karen O and the Kids
57. "Clean Getaway"- Maria Taylor
58. "Ruth Marie"- Mark Kozelek
59. "Dreaming"- Melody Walker
60. "Harvest Moon"- Neil Young
61. "Across the Universe"- Fiona Apple
62. "I Wish My Baby Was Born"- Riley Baugus/Tim Erickson/Tim O'Brien
63. "Bookends"- Simon and Garfunkel
64. "Pancho & Lefty"- Townes Van Zandt
65. "All my days"- Alexi Murdoch
66. "Song for You"- Alexi Murdoch
67. "Orange Sky"- Alexi Murdoch
68. "The Long Road"- Eddie Vedder
69. "One Sunday Morning"- Wilco
70. "Comptine d'un autre été- l'après-midi"- Yann Tiersen
71. "La valse d'Amelie (piano version)- Yann Tiersen
72. "Ohio"- Patty Griffin
73. "Holocene"- Bon Iver
74. "Perth"- Bon Iver
75. "Selah"- Lauryn Hill
76. "The Face of Love"- Eddie Vedder
77. "Everest"- Ani DiFranco
78. "All my Mistakes"- The Avett Brothers
79. "Let it Be"- The Beatles
80. "Within you Without You"- the Beatles
81. "May this Be Love"- Jimi Hendrix
82. "32 Flavors"- Ani DiFranco
83. "Redemption Song"- Bob Marley
84. "Fake Plastic Trees"- Radiohead
85. "This Years Love"- David Gray
86. "Ice Cream"- Sarah McLachlan
87. "Rainy Night in Georgia"- Hem
88. "Betting on Trains"- Hem
89. "First Day of My Life"- Bright Eyes
90. "Pretty Fair Maid"- Emma Beaton & Celtic Chaos
91. "Calling Cards"- Neko Case
92. "Section 8 City"- Andrew Bird

Bittersweet Break: Dempsey Mining 2013

When in Mineral Creek, we Dempsey's often comment on all the work we put into the gold operation.  We like to whine and complain, sometimes in a joking manner, sometimes not, that all the planning and effort that we put forth better be payed off with some serious gold.  And while we are half-serious, we also know that there is a very good chance that our hopes and dreams may not come to fruition.  But I think that knowing that and continuing to dig in the dirt, is what makes someone a miner.... or totally off their rocker, either one.

It is a gamble really.  There are definite geological signs that can give away gold's hiding place.  Things like quartz veins in bedrock can signify that some nuggets and dust are inconspicuously laying inside it's cracks.  But these signs don't always 'pan' out.  There is probably more searching and not finding than there is searching and hitting the jackpot.  There are a lot of ups and downs in mining.  It is very bi-polar and can make you feel as though you are too.

This year was no exception.  In fact, our outcome was exactly the same as last year (minus the flood drama)... right down to the decimal place... right down to the hundredth of an ounce.  It was eerie really.

And so, as I left Valdez's backcountry this summer, I couldn't help but wonder if that was going to be the last time I sat in that valley and watched the sun rise above the mountains from that angle.  Or the last time I drove through the trickling waters of Brevier Creek.  I left in the middle of the season.  I returned home with Dave so that he could go back to the slope and Dylan and I could nest and get ready for the new baby's arrival.

The rest of the Dempsey crew stayed and worked relentlessly for the remaining 36 days of the season.  My brother-in-law, Kevin, made the 2400 mile trek from Eugene, Oregon to help with the operation.  Dave returned for his final week in mid-August.  And I collected text messages and quick phone calls from them as I stayed home in Anchorage.  Their last few weeks at camp were pretty straight forward with only minor breakdowns and repairs, but nothing as alarming as last year's crazy rainfall.  They operated a little bit differently this year and did clean up's every few days as opposed to once a week.  Our fuel usage was down this year and the weather was so nice that it was almost off-putting.

When Dave left on his last unceremonious day, he said it was the same as every other time.  Bittersweet.  He was tired, burnt out and a little homesick.  But he was still not sure if we would be returning to that particular claim next year or not, which made him nostalgic and sad.  And every time he drives away from camp, he is always very uneasy about leaving his co-workers.  He worries about their well-being and the unrelenting Valdez rain that can flash-flood that valley overnight.  So he returned home with mixed feelings and told me about the crew's collective thoughts about Mineral Creek.

We all had been thinking the same thing... perhaps that Mineral Creek is mined out.  Or, perhaps, it is simply too small for our operation.  Or too far away.  Or perhaps it wasn't the claim at all.  Perhaps it was us.  The Dempsey crew might need a change.  We all hold a special place in our hearts for Mineral Creek and, boy, does it skip a beat when we think of all of it's hidden treasure.  But with the recent realization that we had pulled out the exact same amount of gold as last year, we couldn't help but think that maybe it was mother nature's way of telling us to move on.  We Dempsey's are very superstitious and looked at the numbers on the scale... being the exact same.... right down to the hundredth of the ounce... as a telltale sign that there was nothing beyond those numbers in that valley for us.

Needless to say, the discussion has moved on to other claims.  And, although our second season just ended, we are all leaning towards the possibility that a different claim, in a different location, might very well be in our future.  Dave and Doctor Dan are scouring the internet for available claims and are keeping their minds open as far as which direction we wish to go; north, south, east, west... the possibilities are endless.

We have all mentioned that we could use next summer as a "scouting" summer and take some time out for our families and for some good old Alaska summer fun... Like fishing.  I haven't been fishing in two years.  I like to point that little factoid out to Dave when he talks about how much he wishes there was less mining and more play.  "I agree!"  I eagerly say.  "I mean I haven't been fishing in, like, two years!  Or camping with my friends!  Or to Seward for Fourth of July."  Not that I'm bitter about it or anything.  Poor Dave.  Sometimes when I hear myself whine, I think, My God, he's patient.  I married a good one.

For now, Dempsey Mining is on it's winter hiatus, and season 2014 is underworks.  Some major changes are taking place.  Doctor Dan is now retired and he and Rita will be wintering in Saint George, Utah.  Dave and I will be welcoming our second baby into the world any day now.  And Mineral Creek may very well be in our rearview.  Oh, and we are selling the FreeSpirit this spring and upgrading to something a little nicer.  So if you know anyone that wants a camper....

In all seriousness though, it does feel like the end of an era in a way.  I am going to miss that majestic, coastal valley.  And I will always cherish the precious family memories that we made on that beautiful piece of Alaskan soil.  I want to shout to that valley.  You were great!  It's not you... it's me!  There is still the chance that Mineral Creek may still lure us back in... it does have it's tantalizing ways.  But, for now, we have grown apart.  We are on a break, and Dempsey Mining is single and back on the market.  I will try to keep you posted on our "relationship status."

Dear friends, thanks for reading and being patient with me in between my blog entries.  I hope to post some videos and a slideshow soon.

Sunday, Tranquil Sunday

If there is one thing I've learned to love and appreciate as I get older, it is those quiet, subdued, Sunday mornings.  You probably know them.  I'm talking about the ones where you wake to no sound, no noise-pollution of the city.  There is no whir of the traffic on the highway, no neighbors outside mowing the lawn yet, and certainly no sirens.  Just the quiet hum of the coffee-maker and the pitter patter of pajama-clad footsteps coming down the hall, your little ones or your significant other looking for something warm to eat and for a mommy to snuggle.  No matter the weather, no matter the time of year, the entire neighborhood, town, and state that we live in seems to slow down and revel in the peacefulness of the morning.  Even the birds seem to sleep in.

In our house, Sundays are often "pajama day."  We usually take our time getting out of bed, we drink our coffee until noon, Dave and I watch sports, and Dylan gets unlimited time playing his iPad games and watching "Tom and Jerry", or "Cat and Mouse", as he calls it.  I also often take this time to catch up on cleaning and laundry, which may not sound very relaxing, but, believe me, skipping a shower, allowing my toddler  to zone out to cartoons, and getting things done in yoga pants is a lot easier than trying to buzz through a regular weekday.

I imagine most Mom's have similar weekdays like mine; filled to the brim with dishes, laundry, cooking, constructing schedules, driving to appointments, play-dates, and grocery-shopping, all the while with a toddler in tow and a gnawing instinct to continually teach, correct, and entertain your child (or children) while you complete each task.  And if you're a working mom then you have to pile all of that in with your job (How the hell you do that is a mystery to me.  And I applaud you.)

During those weekdays, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you actually get done, you still manage to go to bed while mentally organizing the following day of tasks and chastising yourself for forgetting to make a business phone call, for not working out, or for depending too much on the iPhone or the computer to entertain your child.

And no matter how much reassurance from your husband, you can sometimes still feel more "mom", than woman.  While trying to squeeze everything in, you often skip the makeup, opt for the easy ponytail, and neglect your razor.  This is all fine and good for a couple of days, but, come mid-week, I usually find myself over-analyzing my un-tweezed eyebrows and scoffing at my hair every time I look in the mirror.  Then I beat myself up over every calorie, every carbohydrate consumed.

I think that is why Sunday mornings are so refreshing to most people.  The world suddenly moves at a snails pace, there are no business hours, no expectations, and no dress code.  You can take your time in the bathtub, allow yourself several hours to fold the mountain of laundry on the couch, and breathe easy while your children plant themselves in front of electronics.  In our house, Sundays are snuggly, guilt-free, and a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of the weekday.  Just like Genesis, on the seventh day, He rested.

Even my music slows down.  I often opt for the sweet, mandolin-rich melodies of a quiet bluegrass band like Alison Krauss and Union Station, the honey-soaked voice of Billy Holiday, or the trance-like tunes of Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, instead of the rowdy guitars, banjos, and drums that I prefer during the weekday.  The music change provides a nice, calming soundtrack to all of our lazy Sunday tranquility.

I even manage to feel more like a woman, more like myself on a Sunday.  Which is weird because the skipped shower and lack of makeup would usually make me feel the opposite.  I suppose it is because I actually pause long enough to find my self-worth within, rather than in the mirror.  I take time out to do things that make me feel better, like slowly sipping my coffee, or eating a delicious, indulgent meal or writing in my blog or taking a long walk with Dylan or watching a favorite movie with my husband.  I take time out to see the beauty in my family, to remind myself of all of my blessings, and to not just be thankful for them, but to actually enjoy them, really take time out to enjoy them.

On a Sunday, a stack of books is no longer that list that you beat yourself up for not having read yet.  But it is an tower of endless adventure, words woven into thick, soulful poetry, an awe-inspiring work of art.

On a Sunday, that mountain of laundry you've been dreading all week, suddenly seems like a mole-hill.  And washers and dryers seem like the most amazing things ever invented.

On a Sunday, Tom and Jerry are no longer a naughty mommy cop-out, but, rather, it is a way to induce a heart-melting giggle out of your little one.

On a Sunday, yoga pants are no longer a beauty-sacrifice or an unsexy, lazy replacement for form-fitting jeans, but they are a smooth, sultry way to show off your legs.  Every Sunday, Dave reminds me that he loves me in yoga pants.  There is only one thing better, he says.  Yoga pants with extra tuffs.

On a Sunday, beds are warmer, hugs are longer, and food tastes better.  Even Dylan seems to notice this.  You see, I think he needs a break sometimes too.  He loves time out with his Mommy and Daddy.  He loves not having to run errands just as much as I do.  And he loves to lay in our bed, with endless snacks and cartoons and cuddles.

This Sunday is no different.  And while I am still catching up on several leftover chores from mine camp, I also seem to be blissfully unaware that there is or ever will be a schedule to keep, a dress code to follow, or a crazy world that, come Monday, will return to a brisk, hurried pace.  Right now, it is just me and my blessings.  And, Lord, am I thankful.  I hope your day is similar.  Peace and love to you all on this fine, beautiful Sunday.

"Come, rest awhile, and let us idly stray
In glimmering valleys, cool and far away.

Come from the greedy mart, the troubled street,
And listen to the music, faint and sweet,

That echoes ever to a listening ear,
Unheard by those who will not pause to hear­

The wayward chimes of memory's pensive bells,
Wind-blown o'er misty hills and curtained dells.

One step aside and dewy buds unclose
The sweetness of the violet and the rose;

Song and romance still linger in the green,
Emblossomed ways by you so seldom seen,

And near at hand, would you but see them, lie
All lovely things beloved in days gone by.

You have forgotten what it is to smile
In your too busy life­come, rest awhile."

~Lucy Maud Montgomery~

The Dempsey's are back in Mineral Creek!

Mornings at mine camp are usually short and hurried.  The crew wakes, drinks coffee, eats breakfast, and races off to their duties.  Lunchtime is similar as each worker takes turns breaking for twenty or so minutes and goes to their respective camper for something warm and filling to fight against the rain and cold.  And dinner is a welcome end-of-the-day treat.  It is what is discussed between the “camp cook crew” (Rita, Peggy, and I) from morning until serving time.  We decide who is cooking the main dish, what protein needs to be taken out of the freezer to thaw, who is making a side dish, which camper to dine in, and if there should be the rare, sugary dessert.

Last night, for instance, we all pitched in a little something.  Rita grilled some pesto and Cajun salmon filets, while I took care of the salad, and Aunt Peggy made some buttery wild rice.  We didn’t make a dessert, which was noticed by one of our crew members, Doctor Dan.  So to make up for last night’s missing sweet treat, Peggy is making baklava tonight.

Also tonight, Dave and I are taking Rita and Dani up on a babysitting offer and going into to town for a dinner-date.  Dave proposed this idea to me yesterday, much to my welcome surprise, and today he added that we should take the side-by-side four-wheeler, wear our xtra tuffs and some clothes that we can muddy on the wet, seven-mile drive.  Then he said I could bring my laptop and post a blog entry if we can find some wi-fi at the Fat Mermaid where we will be eating pizza and cheeseburgers. 

Ah, the romance.  A date night that involves mud, xtra-tuffs, blogging, and excessive carbohydrates is right up my alley!  The man knows how to speak to my heart.  So, of course, I eagerly agreed and we are meeting at the four-wheeler at three o’clock sharp.

And now I am frantically writing this entry to update you all, my favorite people, on the goings-on of mine camp.  I know I am the worst at actually keeping this blog up to date and for that, once again, I apologize.  But this year I would like to play the pregnancy card and blame my fluctuating hormones for my absent-mindedness and lack of motivation, or, as my doc’s mid-wife calls it, my “placental-brain-drain.” 

Despite my blogging absence, I am happy to report that this mining season, so far, has given us few problems and minimal bumps and bruises.  Knock on wood.

We started in May as Dave and Dan worked hard at trommel maintenance and sluice box extensions.  They decided that the sluice needed about 40 more square feet in order to ensure that we weren't losing any gold off the end of it.  This required a lot of craftsmanship and welding, two things that I have an embarrassing lack of knowledge about, but that Doctor Dan is pretty much superhuman with.  There were two days of this, followed by a trip home to Anchorage for some R and R, and our final pack job.

The pack job always puts me in a tizzy even though it shouldn't.  For the most part, it can be approached as an extended camping trip.  But, since I have a kiddo and I am pregnant, and since we are seasoned miners now, I tend to approach it as if I were doomsday prepping.  

First, there is the stuff you need like food and clothing.  Then there is the stuff that is just there for comfort and pleasure like books, movies, coffee, and beer. And, finally, there is all the stuff to bring for all of those "what if" scenarios.  What if someone cuts himself or herself on the job?  Throw in the first aid kit.  What if Dylan is plagued with the stomach flu again?  Throw in those extra sheets, blankets, and towels I was debating about.  And what if, just what if, the road collapses again??  Throw in the cell phone booster so we might have a chance to call for help.

And there is a completely different packing experience being had by Dave.  He spends his hours searching Craigslist for needed gear and supplies, making trips to NC Machinery and Jackovich for equipment parts, and cleaning out our garage of tools and loading everything into our truck and trailer.  These things take days, even weeks, to weed through and organize, as it is like I said… doomsday prepping.  You just never know what might happen or what you might need.

Even with all of that preparation, you are never really ready.  I must admit, all romance aside, that our trip to town tonight also has another agenda.  We have a grocery list and a parts list to pick up for all of our crew, as well as a few loads of laundry to get done at Captain Joe’s Laundromat.  Even with all that packing, we are still running into things that we forgot or that we need.

But something that we are not lacking this season is worker bees.  We are blessed to have Uncle Mike and Aunt Peggy for the summer again.  Doctor Dan is now retired and he and Rita have fully committed to Dempsey Mining for the season.  Dani has returned for a two-week cameo to lend a hand before she and her husband go to his hometown in Croatia for a family visit.  And the big surprise this summer… Dave’s brother Kevin is pulling a camper up here from Eugene, Oregon, to put in six weeks of work at the end of the season!  We were all very excited to hear that we get to see him two years in a row and that the Dempsey boys will get to play in the dirt side by side once again.

This is adding up to be a fun, family-filled year.  Dempsey Mining is being good to us.  Dave, Doctor Dan, and Uncle Mike spent two weeks opening the road, which entailed plowing through four colossal avalanches and smoothing out some of the bumpier parts.  It is still the road from hell but they made it passable enough for us to bump our campers down it on one long, kidney-jarring day. 

We are all comfortably camped and falling back into sync with the Mineral Creek timeline.  We have been fully operating for three days now and seen some promising signs of that elusive Valdez gold.  As usual, I miss my all of my friends and family this summer.  But until my next two-week hiatus at home, here is another smoke signal from your loving, loyal sister, niece, daughter, and friend.  Peace from Mineral Creek, Valdez, Alaska.

Dempsey Mining 2012 Slideshow

Hello all!  Dempsey Mining 2013 preparations have begun and Dave, Dylan, and I are headed to Glennallen tomorrow to finish some work on the trommel and the sluice box, ready our cabin for the summer, and to celebrate Dan's retirement!  We have much to be thankful for already this year as Mother Nature has blessed us with some beautiful days this week.  I finally planted my flowers and my sloper came home and pretty much kicked butt on the rest of the yard work.  Dylan and Keiser supervised with a few games of fetch and some time spent in the kiddie pool.

We are readying our home for a busy, fun-filled summer, complete with gold mining, a visit from my brother and his family in July/August, and, hopefully, a lot of time spent in Alaska's beautiful backyard.  Not to mention, in case you didn't already know, we have another baby cozily ensconced in my belly that will make his or her debut in early September.  We are all very excited... with the exception Dylan, who remains very skeptical about the new tiny human.

I am looking forward to the beautiful Glenn Highway drive tomorrow and some much-needed family time.  We will be camping/celebrating at Lake Louise with the whole fam damily and breaking in our campers for the 2013 mining summer.  I'm not sure when I'll be able to write you all again as we will be in and out of internet range.  Until then, I have composed a slideshow of our 2012 pics.  Please watch and enjoy!  Hope this finds you all well and in good spirits.



*Note:  This might translate better on a computer rather than a smartphone.  Also, you can click on the box on the lower right side of the screen to make it full screen, that way you can get the full effect of the breathtaking scenery. ;-)

Mining 2012 Video: Flood Signs

This video was taken about 2 weeks before the flood when I was still at the camp.  The rain had been coming down for several days and Dave and I left camp to go into town for dinner and errands.  A few hours later, we returned to find that a few new waterfalls and creeks had sprung and part of the road was showing signs of washing out...

Mining 2012 video: Uncle Mike Loads the Trommel

This video was taken somewhere in the middle of the season.  I was going for an afternoon ride on Dave's loader as he moved the "tailings" of the processed material out of the way.  Uncle Mike is loading the gravel or "pay-dirt" as we call in the video, into the trommel where the material is separated in a giant spinning cylinder.  The smaller, heavier gold dust, particles, and nuggets are deposited into the sluice box and caught by small "traps" or metal ripples and by mats known as "miner's moss."

What do your kiddos eat?

One of the things that I never anticipated about motherhood is that nagging, incessant instinct to want to continually feed my kiddo.  I am always worried, Is he eating enough?  Is he getting enough fruits and vegetables?  Is he eating too much sugar?

I'm sure these questions don't surprise the seasoned mother.  I worry that Dylan is too skinny and that his daily PB&J intake is way too high.  I offer him new foods all the time, with about a five percent success rate.  That means with about every 100 new foods, new meals that I offer him, Dylan will eat around 5 of them.  And by eat, I mean he'll try them... most of the time spitting them out and making a funny face.

Dylan, on a really good day, will eat eggs & toast or pancakes for breakfast,
PB&J for lunch,
Maybe a tiny bit of chicken for dinner... maybe.  And strawberry milk.
And some fruit or crackers for snack.

I try not to get discouraged.  I know I'm not the only mother out there with a picky eater.  But sometimes it can get a bit overwhelming preparing snacks and meals that repeatedly get turned away.  I am continually reading up on advice online and I have seen the same things repeated over and over.  "Kids will eat when they're hungry."  "Refined sugars are horrible for them."  "No fast food!"  And the classic, "My kids only eat what we eat because we don't give them another option."

That is all fine and good for some parents, but I am also a strong advocate for the principal that every child is different and, therefore, may have different tastes, needs, etc.  And I also believe that some things are okay in moderation.  And, yes, I am talking about the occasional McDonald's nuggets and over-processed, refined, sugariest of the sugary snacks.

Sometimes life is busy and we are a lucky generation that we have that last resort fast food to fall back on in case we are out running errands when our kids start fussing and we forgot to pack their favorite crackers.  Or that package of artificially-flavored fruit snacks that don't have one natural ingredient in them can also come in handy when we are at the store or the post office or we just need them to be quiet and pre-occupied for a few minutes.  I am certainly not above these things.

However, when we are at home, as we often are, I do like to keep it on the "healthier" end of the spectrum.  But when I am thinking about what to prepare for dinner, I often get overwhelmed and frustrated at the prospect of making another Mommy-fail of a meal.  So I am always open to advice, particularly kid-friendly recipes.  Like I said, I do a lot of online research, but I would love to hear from other parents as well.  Especially from you...

I am curious.  What do your kiddos eat on a typical day?  Do they eat three square meals?  Or are they grazers?  Do they eat, or at least try, everything offered to them?  Does texture bother them?  Do they have any quirks or food sensitivities?  Can their sliced apples touch their macaroni and cheese on their plate or will that trigger a complete meltdown?  Do they eat at the table?  What is your favorite memory, involving food, of your child?

I want to hear about it!  I want to hear your advice, your success stories, your epic kitchen fails, your kid-friendly recipes, your stories!  I am always open to a good discussion.  I love hearing from other parents.  So please comment, either here on the blog or on Facebook and tell me, What do your kiddos eat?

Dylan's first solid food feeding.
He seemed more inclined to appease us back then when his food only consisted of breast-milk mixed with baby cereal.

The Conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012: Part Two

David and Danielle Dempsey had spent their first few years of life on a gold mine. Valdez, Alaska was no stranger to them, but their memories of the place and of Dempsey Mining and Construction (1986-1991) were blurry and child-like.  Dave recalls the wildlife and playing with his Tonka's in the Mineral Creek gravel.  Dani doesn't remember much at all until the later years when she was seven and spent the summer on the mine.  However, they had heard the stories told by their parents so many times that they knew of the hard work and ruthless weather that they had to endure just to put food on the table and a roof over their heads.

They also had learned not to romanticize the profession.  Even I had come to understand that notion after marrying into the family and hearing their stories.  Sure, gold mining has it's moments.  There is the gold fever; that first glisten in the pan, the luster of a nugget peaking out from the ripples of the sluice box, and there is the excitement and adventure of the find.  And, of course, there is the time spent with family, the great outdoors, and the prospect of memories and treasures so rare that no amount of story-telling or picture-taking could do them justice.  Yes, those moments, those precious instances that can be over in a season, or in an afternoon, or in a heartbeat, are the reasons that we gold mine.

But one also has to be realistic and remember the enormous amount of difficulty required of such an operation.  Dempsey Mining season 2012 was one filled with considerable bumps, bruises, and mechanical mishaps.  Then there was the grueling hours, the close quarters, and the extreme weather.  We all also had to understand that the success of a season relied on three things and three things only.

One: That we find some gold.  Two: That we sell some gold and make a profit... or at least break even.  And Three:  That we all make it out of there alive and in one piece.

Well, as Dave and Dani stared down into the landslide that fateful 2012 fall morning, they knew that the first two concerns on the road to success had been taken care of.  But the third and final piece of the puzzle had seemed to crumble before their eyes and was now being washed down the enormous creek-turned-river.  And what little was left of their optimism and their spirit was quickly being pulled away with it.

Danielle couldn't control it.  There had been so many reasons to cry that summer, and a few of us did.  But Dani had impressed us all with her work ethic and her tough, get-it-done attitude.  But at the end of the season she was done, she was worn out, she was beyond ready for her home, for her bed, and for her husband.  She wanted to get the hell out of there.

So, now, when it looked like none of that was within her grasp, she could no longer keep the emotions at bay.  There was no stopping the anxiety, the panic that seemed to be consuming her body.  She bent over and began to dry-heave.  Her breath was short and quick and followed by violent expulsions of air.

David, still shocked at the sight of the missing road, stumbled on his words as he tried to console her.  "It's okay. It's okay." he said, patting her back.  But it wasn't okay.  He was playing out the possible scenarios in his head, all the while thinking, What the hell are we going to do?  What the hell are we going to do...now? We are going to need help.  But who could help this?

My nephew, Jesse, standing on the road in the infamous
"rockslide section," months before the flood.

The missing "rockslide section" after the flood.

Remember, there had been emergency evacuations occurring all over the state that week.  And as the rain kept coming down, it looked as though there was a strong possibility that I was going to see David, Rita, Danielle, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Peggy on the news, being airlifted to safety.  There was a strong possibility that all of our campers, all of our equipment, worth thousands and thousands of dollars, would have to be abandoned and lost in Valdez's unforgiving mountain winters.

Dave was considering these scenarios, while consoling Dani, and staring into the abyss, and repeatedly thinking, We are going to need help.  And as he stared across the vast, 100 yard gap, right then, at that moment, help arrived.

Dan Dempsey was standing on the opposite side of the opening with a loader and a rope in his hand, waving to them.  John Perry, the mine claim owner, was with him.  Dave and Dani couldn't help but feel a slight relief at the sight of him.  Dad is here.  And, although they didn't know his plan yet, they knew that if anybody was capable of a rescue job, it was Dan Dempsey.  We don't call him Doctor Dan for nothing.

He was shouting but no one could hear him across the gaping hole and the roaring river.  He motioned to Dave and Danielle that he was going to climb over to them with the help of Dave on the other end of the rope.

Both Dave and Dan jumped into action and found a thick section of alders against the bluff on either side of the landslide.  They began to climb, using the alders for support.  Danielle and John Perry watched as Dave and Dan disappeared into the alders, into the mountain above.  Several minutes passed by before they spotted them again near the top, scaling across the bluff towards each other.  They met halfway, and supported each other, each on the end of a rope, father and son, back across the muddy mountainside.

Dani couldn't help but feel nervous when she and John Perry lost sight of them again.  They were, after all, on the side of a rapidly eroding mountain.  She and JP would exchange shrugs across the gap as they peered up into the rain-soaked slope, searching for Dave and Dan.  When they finally saw them again, an entire half hour had passed since Dave had left her side.  They appeared out of the alders and made their way to the north end of the road.

As soon as their feet hit the ground, Doctor Dan wasted no time in informing them of his plan.  He was going to get the excavator and rebuild the road.  Dani was going to stay with him, radio in hand, and alert him of any falling boulders or major landslides headed his way.  Dave was going to move the rest of the crew and the equipment across the creek and have everything lined up, staged, and ready to drive the rest of the road as soon as Dan achieved the impossible and repaired the enormous missing gap.  There was no time to waste.  So the three of them immediately went on to their separate jobs and did exactly as Dan instructed.

They all worked, long into the night, under the watchful eye of claim owner John Perry.  He later informed us that he had the number of a helicopter waiting to be dialed in case the entire plan went awry.  Dan drove the excavator to the edge of the hole and began digging into the bank and dumping mud below him.  Danielle radioed Dan each time a large boulder or significant slide came down, each time bracing herself for "the big one."  Dan would strategically move the excavator out of the way then back again when the slide had ceased and continued digging.  Dave rounded up the rest of the crew and continued the creek crossing.  They staged each vehicle, each camper, and each piece of equipment in a line, ready for takeoff.

Dan rebuilds the road as Dave and Uncle Mike watch for landslides.
This photo was taken by claim owner, John Perry, on the opposite side.

Right when Dave, Rita, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Peggy had pulled the last fifth wheel across, the sun had long been set, and Dan had finally decided to call it quits for the day.  He parked the excavator, and he and Dani said goodnight to John Perry, who retired to sleep in his truck on the opposite side of the gap.   Then the entire crew retreated to their campers once more for a worried night of sleep.

The next day they woke tired, but ready.  So far, the road that Dan was building was standing the test of time.  The mud, for some reason, was cooperating and stacking vertically below him.  And the mud above the crew was staying intact and any major landslides had come to a halt.  For now.  They all knew that time was of the essence, and since the rain showed no sign of stopping, they set to work on the road.

Dan continued to dig into the bank and drop the mud 100 feet beneath him, slowly filling the 100 yard gap.  Dave kept watch on the rocks and landslides and radioed each time one headed Dan's way.  The rest of the crew readied themselves and prayed.

Meanwhile, the Dempsey-May's on this end also prayed.  We had received a few, static-filled phone calls.  We were aware of their situation and we were ready for the worst.  But we, like the crew, were also very aware of Dan's capabilities.  During one conversation with Uncle Jeff, he said, "They'll be fine.  They've got Dan there."  And I agreed.

So we waited for the next phone call and the Dempsey Mining crew worked rigorously to make the impossible happen.  Any nerves that needed soothing were treated with the smaller comforts they could find.  A positive thought, a hug, some food, and a small sip of Jameson from time to time, worked wonders for the battered and beaten crew.

By 5 o'clock that evening, it happened.  Dan put the last scoop of dirt in it's place, tracked it over with the excavator, and gave the go-ahead for the crew to follow with the campers and equipment.  Everyone immediately fell in line and, knowing that they weren't quite out of the woods yet, began the slow trek across Doctor Dan's miracle makeshift road.

Doctor Dan's miracle makeshift road.

It was a slow and arduous process, filled with steep drop-offs, close calls, and a lot of anxiety.  The wide loads came across the road with no room to spare on either side.  The Dempsey Mining crew drove and prayed that the road wouldn't give way beneath them and that the mud above them would continue to hang on for just a few more hours.  Each vehicle, each piece, including four campers, a loader, an excavator, a dump truck, a water pump, a trommel, a mill truck with a trailer, and an enclosed trailer all made it across safely.  And, more importantly, so did the Dempsey Mining crew.

By dark they were all on the south side of the gap, away from the enormous abyss that nearly swallowed them whole, and they were driving their campers and equipment to a quieter, safer part of the road known as Macintosh.  They set up camp, called us Dempsey-May's in Anchorage and Wasilla and informed us of their success.  Somehow, some way, they had achieved the impossible and had gotten out of there alive... and with all of their equipment to boot!

The third piece of the successful mining puzzle had fallen into place.  Dempsey Mining Season 2012: A Success!

The crew carried on for three more days, making multiple trips to Glennallen with campers and equipment.  They were exhausted.  But they knew that if the Mineral Creek hell-road hadn't brought them down then nothing else could, even when they pulled into Dan and Rita's driveway and an absurd comedy of errors ensued.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion or the worn out nerves, or because God knew we'd need something to laugh about later, but the circus began when Dani, drove our red truck, towing the Free Spirit, all the way from Valdez to the Glennallen Dempsey compound.

When she arrived, she accidentally turned the truck too sharply and the top of the fifth wheel rammed into it, breaking out it's back window.  Having met Daniel in Valdez, she had him make the call to Dave.  He wasn't too far behind on the Richardson Highway when Daniel broke the news to him about his red, Ford baby. To their surprise, Dave took the news well and said not to sweat it.  After all, they had survived the last few days and that's all that mattered.

But upon Dave's arrival, he couldn't help but be distracted by the sight of his truck parked in the Dempsey yard.  He was driving Dan and Rita's white truck, towing their fifth wheel.  As he glanced at the red Ford, trying to make out just how bad the back window looked, he wasn't paying attention to his own driving and he managed to drive Dan and Rita's fifth wheel right into the house deck.

Well, needless to say, he was pissed at himself.  He yelled and cursed and mentally kicked himself for the rest of the night.  Meanwhile, Dan hopped into the driver's seat and, trying to get the fifth wheel unhooked from the deck, he had to turn the truck at a 90 degrees angle.  So, inevitably, his back window also fell victim to a sharply turned fifth wheel.

By this time, Rita and Dani, had called me and informed me of their safe arrival home.  They relayed, with an almost giddy attitude and jovial giggles, that the trucks were missing their back windows and Dan and Rita's camper was missing a chunk of it's side.  But they didn't care.  They were warm and dry for the first time in days.  They were alive.  And they were home.

I laughed with them and understood their great sense of relief.  It was wonderful to hear their voices.  And when Dave arrived at our Anchorage home the next day, I could see the relief in him as well.  He played with Dylan and Keiser and soaked up the comforts of home.  We had dinner, cocktails, and we talked late into the night about his past week from hell, and how we, Dempsey Mining, would Never. Ever. Mine In Valdez.  Ever. Again.

Well, never say never, folks.

Dempsey Mining Season 2013 is about to commence in Mineral Creek, Valdez, Alaska.  What can I say?  There's no cure for gold fever.

The Conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012: Part One

Brevier Creek reminding us who's boss.

Dempsey Mining 2012 came to a close in September 2012.  My absence from this blog, whether a conscious decision or not, began near the end of our season and continued until now when I finally felt that I was ready to re-visit the unsettling events that unfolded during the final weeks of our gold-hunt.  As a crew, we have all had difficulty discussing our first, and perhaps the most grueling, season.  I hadn't even looked at most of the final pictures until today, nearly eight months later.

I am not exaggerating when I say that everyone was lucky to walk away from camp with their lives.  And among our blessings, a miracle if you ask me, we still had our campers, equipment, and gold.  Spirits had hit an all time low in those final weeks and everyone's safety began to be questioned.  Alaska had record amounts of rain and, being that we were seven miles deep in the heart of Valdez backcountry, the entire camp nearly fell victim to it's floodwaters.

Both Brevier and Mineral creeks had become roaring rivers that did not give a second glance to what lay in their path.  And the rain never stopped, it was unrelenting.  And it descended from the sky bearing a message from Mother Nature herself.  It was loud and clear that we had overstayed our welcome.  It was time to leave her backcountry.  Now.

Gold or not, she said.  Winter is on its way.

And left we did.  We arrived home intact, but not unscathed.  We had been chewed up and spit out and unable to even think about mining for several weeks.  So that is why I haven't written to tell you about our final weeks until now.  Sorry to my readers who have been wondering if we were still alive or if I was still on my August "Mom's Weekend."  But I am ready to tell you now.  So here it is.  The conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012:



I suppose mining was easy... for me.  Especially compared to the trials and tribulations that the rest of the crew endured.  Dylan and I left early during those last couple of weeks in September and returned home to recoup from our various, reoccurring illnesses.  We curled up in our warm home, away from the rain, and slept and ate for the better part of a week while our bodies regained strength and energy.  Luckily, we were in Anchorage, 300 road miles away from any of the danger that the Dempsey crew was facing in Valdez.  I felt warm and cozy and deliciously spoiled in my bed, but I certainly wasn't oblivious to the goings-on in Mineral Creek.

The news was filled with warnings.  Record amounts of rain was falling all over the state and people were being evacuated out of their homes in Talkeetna and Wasilla.  Footage of houses floating down roaring rivers that had once been tiny streams were posted all over the television and internet.  The railroad traffic came to a halt as the Gold Creek Bridge washed out.  Sections of the Richardson and Denali Highways were closed due to flood warnings.  The Kenai Peninsula Borough declared a state of emergency.

And the Dempsey's-May's on this end, (Grandma Buddy, Uncle Jeff, Aunt Lisa, Dylan and I), just sat and waited.  Once a day we would receive a phone call from the crew at Mineral Creek to update us.  At first the rain caused some minor mishaps; a few leaks in the campers, the creek crossing had become more difficult, as did some really wet, cranky workers.  Dan was working in town at CVEA and returning to camp in the evenings.  He and David were discussing when to pack up and leave camp, how the creek crossing would be, and in what order to complete each task.  But nothing in their tone gave me cause to worry.

Brevier Creek crossing during
tamer, pre-flood days.

Brevier Creek crossing during
beginning of flood.

Then the mishaps started to become bothersome.  One phone call informed us that an entirely new waterfall had sprung loose behind the campers.  It was large and widespread and seemed to appear out of nowhere.  There had been puddles surrounding the campers before, but now there was a pool.  Then the phone calls became more frequent and news of Brevier Creek tripling in size and nearly washing away the water pump reached our ears.  Not far from the water pump, lay our excavator, our loader, our dump truck, and our enclosed trailer.

Grandma Buddy called me afterwards.

"I think they need to get out of there, don't you?"  She said, careful not to sound too alarmed.

"Yes I do, Bud.  I'm worried."  She agreed and I promised to call her with each update.  Grandma Buddy is the wisest woman I know.  She can sense things, good or bad.  She can see trouble coming from a mile away.  And when Buddy says its time to leave, that means the party was over hours ago.

After speaking to the crew that evening, it was clear that they had gotten the message too.  They decided to pack everything up and prepare our campers and all of the equipment to cross the creek the next day.  Dan had driven to town for work, saying that he would be back the next morning with a loader to help clear the road of any fallen rocks.  That night after most of the packing had been done, the remaining crew had a few sips of Jameson to calm the nerves and laid their weary heads to rest on their pillows, while their ears stayed tuned in to every raindrop, every falling rock from the mountains above, and prayed that God would keep mother nature at bay for just one more day.

The next morning, they woke and began the creek crossing process.  By mid-afternoon, they were eager for Dan to arrive but they hadn't seen any sign of him yet.  Dave and Dani decided to take the six wheeler up the road a bit to check on his status and make sure he wasn't stuck behind any large boulders.  I'm not sure that anything, not even our crazy season from hell, could prepare them for what lie ahead.

Before I go any further, I would like to remind you that the crew was well-informed of the events occurring around the rest of the state of Alaska.  Words like, warning, and emergency, and evacuation, were at the fore-front of their minds.  I would also like to remind you that several of them, Danielle in particular, had been at this mine-site without more than a few hours break the entire summer.  There had been no phone, no internet, and, besides the rare trip to town, there had been no communication with the outside world.  A safe return home was not only desired, it was yearned for and prayed over.  The Dempsey Mining crew was done.  And all that lay between them and their coveted beds was that damned seven mile road.

So, Dave and Dani jumped on the six-wheeler, and left to check on their Dad, expecting to find him clearing the last few boulders out of the way, giving them the ultimate go-ahead to bring everybody and everything out of the mine.  But as soon as they rounded the corner to the infamous "rockslide section" (as we like to call it), any spirit that was left in them, any dream that they would soon be eating a hot meal in the comfort of their own homes, was thoroughly crushed.

Instead David and Danielle were met with a paralyzing sight.  Instinct took hold, and Dave immediately gripped the brake of the six-wheeler.  They got off the vehicle and cautiously walked to the edge of the earth and peered over the 100 foot gaping hole into the roaring river below... where Mineral Creek Road used to be.

Stay tuned for Part Two....