Interview with Jay Ach and Karen Grove

Annie Boucher July 11, 2014

By Luc

As new JIRP participants, we are learning the lay of the land at Camp 17. College students who purely specialize in ramenology are learning to cook for all 46 camp members. Those of us accustomed to flushing toilet paper are learning to use trash bags instead. The numerous names of previous JIRPers contained on the boards of the cook shack remind us of the hundreds that have gone through this initiation into JIRP before us. In addition to the students and staff, Camp 17 houses many guest faculty including Jay Ach, a JIRP student in 1973 who is currently a Environmental Manager for the Port of San Francisco. Jay experienced the same hardship we experienced on the hike to Camp 17 and has been giving us insight into changes and similarities from the past to the present. Jay remembers the infamous devils club puncturing and tearing skin. Currently, Camp 17 has a double wide outhouse with a wall separating stalls. When Jay was a student, there was a two-story outhouse. Unfortunately, this no longer exists. Apparently, the upper stall of the two-story outhouse was favored over the lower stall. Pilot bread serves as the staple of every JIRPer diet. In addition to Jay’s nostalgia over the JIRP staple food, he mentioned the packaging has not changed since the 1970’s.

Jay had the pleasure of introducing his wife, Karen Grove, to the Camp 17 adventure. Karen is a geology professor and head of the Earth & Climate Sciences at San Francisco State University. After years of hearing Jay’s incredible adventure in JIRP, she decided to see what all the hype was about. Karen will be sharing her knowledge with the students on paleoclimate; looking at climate in the past in comparison with today. Even though there is currently zero visibility and sideways rain at Camp 17, Karen remains upbeat and enthusiastic. This is a testament to the tradition of positive group dynamics of JIRP, and the connection that stretches generations of JIRP, from 1973 to 2014.

Hike to Camp 17A

Annie Boucher July 10, 2014

By: Gillian Rooker

All I can say about Camp 17A was that it was quite the treat. Just imagine sitting and looking out at a beautiful scenery of snow-capped mountains and a river streaming down from a nearby glacier. You want to sit and admire the view longer, but after a couple minutes, once you’re done you grab some toilet paper, wipe, stand, pull up your pants and step out of the door-less outhouse into the fresh crisp air… minding the gaping hole in the floor as you go. That is what Camp 17A was, the perfect mixture of beauty beyond comparison and rundown quaintness.

The beautiful view from Camp 17A. (Photo by: Stan Pinchak)

The camp was comprised of one building (a shack) and an outhouse (door-less). Even so, I loved it! My travel group took 12 ½ hours to get to 17A, hiking through forests of Devil’s Club (a plant similar looking to tons of other plants, except with thousands of tiny thorns), across ice-cold rivers, up the vertical swamp (with mud that went up to one’s knees), finally reaching an altitude of 4500 ft. After all of that, I would have been happy sleeping in a damp cardboard box. Even if I had not done that hike though, I still would have enjoyed staying at camp 17A. Honestly! It made me want to move out to the middle of nowhere and build a tiny shack of my own… probably a little nicer though, and with less rat poop.

A welcome sight: Camp 17A! (Photo by: Stan Pinchak)

It wasn’t just the camp itself that I liked, though, but the bonding that took place with my hiking group and I. After all the suffering we shared on the hike, being able to sit down in a semi-warm room with everyone and have a good old time with them while eating a bowl of mac-n-cheese was priceless. Friendships and memories were forged on that hike and in Camp 17A that I will not forget anytime soon… maybe when I get old and start to lose my memories though… but that won’t be for a while, so I’m still good for now.

The unforgettable trek to Camp 17A. (Photo by Stan Pinchak)

Notes from a Flatlander: Ascent to Camp 17

Annie Boucher July 10, 2014

By: Erik

My native Estonia boasts the highest peak in all of the Baltic States: towering above the landscape on her lonely quest to bring down the moon and the stars, she alone makes a dash for the heavens and stops just short of a thousand feet above sea level. There are no mountains in Estonia.

A wanderer from such a flat country thinks in two dimensions: he can head north or south, drift east or west. Of course he moves around in the world and sees other places, and in the back of his mind he will come to know another way: up, up and away.

It is not the old way, though. Over time, he will get used to the z-direction as one might get used to a helicopter taking into the air: it becomes a fact of life, but also remains a miracle. The way up still holds on to its mysteries almost as well as the way down, to the dark chasms of the deep.

Thus it is strange to start in the rainforest and end on top of a glacier barely ten hours later, passing through every biome in between – such is the hike to Camp 17. At least I have the tendency to think of a rainforest as equatorial, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, which further deepens the impression of ecological breadth that the hike makes. According to my two-dimensional northern hemisphere intuition, such breadth can only be achieved by thousands of miles of horizontal movement: all the way from the equator to the pole. We completed that traverse, one fourth of the Earth’s circumference, in less than half a day – forget around the world in 80 days, I bet we could do it in two!

Though one vertical mile is thus worth thousands of horizontal ones, a vertical mile does not always come cheaply – famously so. Seldom is this more obviously evident than on the last stretch of the hike to Camp 17, a steep dash up the snow-covered slope of the Ptarmigan Glacier. At the end of a long hike, a featureless and seemingly vertical white wall yields only to a stubborn and methodical clockwork of steps, one foot in front of another.

It can be a source of frustration, no doubt. But in this clockwork, there are also things other than fatigue and frustration to look out for – nuances that only resolve themselves against a perfectly white background in the vast tranquility of the glacier, small things to divert a hiker’s attention from tiredness. In the step-by-step trance of the last ascent, a sharp-eyed hiker will catch the small deviations in the step of the partner trudging alongside him; he will notice the minute corrections she makes to deal with the small yet sensible changes in the consistency of snow into which she plants her foot.

Once I reached that stage of mindfulness, I don’t think any fatigue could have become an issue in many hours of hiking to come, should they have been coming. A self who could get tired was no more: he had been lost in the collection of observations unreachable in other circumstances. The moment when that happened was the beginning of this post.

Hike to the Mendenhall Glacier: A Test Run Before the Icefield

Annie Boucher July 9, 2014

By Kim Quesnel, Photos by Natalie Raia

After arriving in Juneau on Sunday, a day of initial hellos and lectures on Monday, and a visit to downtown Juneau and the Mendenhall Glacier visitor’s center on Tuesday, by Wednesday we were ready to get outside. It was pouring rain and not the warmest day, but we were all excited to test out our new gear and get accustomed to our mostly non-broken in boots. We started out relatively early and drove from the University of Alaska Southeast Campus where we were staying, to the West Mendenhall Glacier trail head where we started our hike. After unloading the school bus, we covered our backpacks with rain tarps, took out our trekking poles, and started up the trail. We initially hiked with our entire group- over 30 students, 6 junior field staff, Carrie’s dog Kiah, and a few “adults” including Jeff Kavanaugh (Program Director), Shad O’Neel (Board Member and this year’s JIRP Academic Advisor), Frank Granshaw (Environmental Science and Geology Professor at Portland State and Portland Community College) and Frank’s wife Annette. After a while, we broke into trail parties of 6-8 people to speed up our journey. We hiked through the mucky forest, across streams, up a rock face next to a waterfall, and eventually made our way to the terminus of the Mendenhall Glacier.

We had seen the glacier from the other side of the lake on the previous day, but that had barely prepared us for the gargantuan size of the Mendenhall when we were up close and personal. Since it was still raining, we ate our bagged lunches while we strapped on our crampons, took out our ice axes, and mentally prepared to get on the ice. We also put on all of our extra layers so that we would stay warm on the glacier, which is extra chilly due to the katabatic winds that pick up the cold temperature of the ice. We ascended the glacier in small groups after a short safety talk and we quickly learned how to trust our crampons and use an ice axe as our “third leg”. It was incredible being on the glacier for the first time. We were immediately dwarfed by the sheer size and greatness of the seracs, the peaks and valleys on the ice, and it was an amazing feeling to know that we were on our way to becoming mountaineers.

After a bit of exploring, which included a trip to the famous blue ice caves for some people, we decided that we were ready to head back to the bus. About half of the group headed back on the initial route, and the rest tried a different route. Although it was apparently a common hiking trail for tourists, we managed to take a few wrong turns before eventually ending up back at the trail head. We were soaking wet and exhausted, yet (almost) everyone was smiling ear to ear. We had just seen our first introduction to life on a glacier, and we couldn’t have been more excited to get up onto the icefield.

Mike’s Journey to Juneau

Annie Boucher July 9, 2014

By: Tristan

While Alex had quite an adventure with the bikers and the biologists travelling south to Juneau, Mike Staron from Bolton, Connecticut had quite a different journey. Seven days before JIRP, Mike finished packing up all of his belongings into his Subaru Outback (most were already in there to begin with) and began the long haul across the United States to Juneau, Alaska. Navigating by sun and stars (and a little GPS help) Mike drove by himself listening to “The Bernstein Bears go to Summer Camp” on repeat, most of the time wishing that he either a.) had a driving companion or b.) brought something other than “The Bernstein Bears go to Summer Camp”.

In Minnesota, the sky darkened over Mike’s Outback and a tornado formed right over his head! Although Mike’s car got quite the shake-down, the tornado did not touch down and he continued on his journey to reach Juneau. Intending to get a little pre-JIRP recreation in before the program formally began, Mike thought, “What better place to warm up to JIRP than Glacier National Park?” However, the weather had different plans and decided to dump 2+ feet of snow in the Park so Mike scrapped those plans and resumed chasing the sunset. (Since he was about to spend two solid months on glaciers, why spend his last few days of real summer wallowing around in the snow?)

Upon arriving in Seattle, Mike’s trusty steed ran out of steam and could go no further (the clutch blew). Luckily, this was the end of the paved road and Mike boarded a plane for Juneau. On June 23rd Mike was greeted at Juneau by 2+ feet of welcoming rain as well as the rest of the JIRP students. What a journey!

Students and JIRP alumni enjoy a barbecue on Eagle Beach in Juneau.

Staff Week 2014

Annie Boucher July 9, 2014

By: Zach Miller

As anyone who has left the icefield will tell you, there is an undeniable urge to get back to the home away from home as soon as possible. So this year we, the field safety staff: myself, Jon Doty, Annie Boucher, Matt Pickart, and Kate Baustain (Mary Gionatti, another field safety staff, had a conflict), decided that waiting to get back was out of the question. From June 12th-June 15th, we trickled into Juneau. On the 16th, we hiked up the infamous Lemon Creek Trail to Camp 17.

The View from Camp 17 at 4:45am. (Photo by Zach Miller

We were greeted by a group of greedy, yet friendly rats. Jack-of-all-trades/engine guru Ben Partan also appeared out of the mist, having been in camp for a few days working on a new fuel containment shed. For four days we hiked, skied, and trundled around the surrounding area and got ourselves ready for the icefield diet.

Jon Doty embraces the fresh snow. (Photo by Zach Miller)

We even did some work; we cleaned out all of the food tarnished by the winter and by the pack of rats. Furthermore, we erected the radio antenna and cleaned the annual piles of marmot feces at Camp 17A (Big thanks to the high school group last year that cleaned up 17A!)

Jon Doty sets the antenna in place. (Photo by Zach Miller)

On June 20th, we hiked out to meet the group of students in Juneau and to officially start JIRP 2014. More updates to come!

JIRP 2014: Kicking Things Off in Juneau, Alaska

Annie Boucher July 8, 2014

By: Kirsten Arnell, Columbia University

The past couple days in Juneau have been fantastic. We had a couple lectures on Monday at the University of Alaska Southeast (UAS) campus to introduce us to the program, making us even more eager to get up onto the icefield than we already were to begin with. We learned how glaciers affect all branches of the Earth system and humans – climate, ecology, oceanography, and even economics, to name a few. These lectures were just a small taste of everything we will be exposed to over the course of the summer.

I have really enjoyed meeting all of the people. There are 36 students total on the trip, from all over the place. I have loved talking to everyone, hearing about their interests, learning about where they come from and what they study. A handful of us, including myself, have already found some crazy “small world” connections with others who are here.

Participants of JIRP 2014 at the University of Alaska Southeast campus. (Photo by: Alexandre Mischler)

I’m super excited to be spending the next two months with everyone on the icefield. I can already tell it is going to be a riot. The group dynamics are fantastic, and the people are so cool! I can really feel the mutual excitement about science and about being on the icefield. It’s neat to be part of a group of people with so many common interests – which have brought us together to embark on such a terrific expedition – but who are also quite different in terms of each individual’s particular interests, personalities, and backgrounds.

I don’t think I’ve ever been part of such a group of people who are so similar to me in numerous ways. We’re all here because we love science, we love the Earth, and we want adventure on ice. Yet I know that I have a tremendous amount to learn from every single person on this trip, because we all have such unique sets of knowledge. As one Junior Staff Member said, with such a large group of people with their own particular interests, chances are we will have at our fingertips the answer to nearly every question or curiosity that arises, because someone in our group will know it. Without internet or much access to the outside world, together we will still be like our own walking “google” up on the Juneau Icefield. We are in this to learn together, and to share our knowledge with one another, and to do some incredible research. I can’t wait!

Welcome to the JIRP 2014 Blog

Annie Boucher July 7, 2014

Hello and welcome friends to the 2014 JIRP Blog!

On June 22, 2014, we kicked off the 68th year of the Juneau Icefield Research Program. We are happy to have 33 student participants from around the US participating in JIRP this year, and they have already embarked on their summer of learning, research, adventure, and fun on the incredible Juneau Icefield.

We did, however, have a little trouble getting the blog started at the beginning of the program this year due to some technical difficulties. For those who have been looking for updates — we sincerely apologize. The students have already written several posts and are anxious to share their experiences, and several blogs will be posted online in the coming days.

Students look out at the Mendenhall Glacier, and reflect on their new home for the next two months. (Photo by: Alexandre Mischler)

We hope that you’ll continue to follow the blog throughout the summer. Please be aware that blogs may not be posted regularly. The path of a JIRP blog is long and demonstrates how truly challenging communications can be from the wilderness of the Juneau Icefield. After being skillfully written and reviewed, these reports from the Icefield travel via USB drive with the scheduled helicopter resupply flights to the logistics base in Juneau, Alaska. From there, the blog content is uploaded and shared with our dedicated website volunteers who format and post the blogs online.

We welcome your engagement in our expedition through the JIRP blog — so please read, share, comment, and ask questions, and join us on our educational adventures this summer!

Kind Regards,

Jeff Kavanagh

JIRP Director

Maynard M. Miller (1921 - 2014)

Matthew Beedle February 5, 2014

Dr. Maynard Miller, the beloved founder and long-time director of JIRP, passed away January 26th at his home in Moscow, Idaho.

In the coming days and weeks we will be adding more images, stories, videos, and history of his phenomenal life. Eventually this content will be stored permanently on a dedicated page of the JIRP website.

Until then, however, we will be adding content here on the JIRP blog. One intention for this is so that you can share a remembrance of Mal; please do so in the comments below and help us honor and memorialize Dr. Miller.

If you would like to contribute images, stories, or videos in Mal's remembrance please be in touch with FGER Vice President Matt Beedle by email (beedlem@unbc.ca).

Dr. Maynard Miller on the Juneau Icefield.  Photo courtesy of the Miller family. — Dr. Maynard Miller on the Juneau Icefield. Photo courtesy of the Miller family.

Obituary

Dr. Maynard Malcolm Miller on a Juneau Icefield Expedition in November, 1953.  Photo by Ira Spring. — Dr. Maynard Malcolm Miller on a Juneau Icefield Expedition in November, 1953. Photo by Ira Spring.

Maynard Malcolm Miller, explorer, committed educator and noted scientist whose glaciological research was among the first to identify hard evidence of global climate change as a result of human industrial activity, died on January 26 at his home in Moscow, Idaho. He was 93.

Dr. Miller was Emeritus Professor at the University of Idaho where he previously served as Dean of the College of Mines and Earth Resources, and Director of the Glaciological and Arctic Sciences Institute. The Institute, along with the Juneau Icefield Research Program, founded in 1946 and developed in partnership with his late wife Joan Walsh Miller, inspired more than 4000 students through hands on involvement in scientific research in remote mountain environments in Alaska and around the world.

As a scientist and climber on America’s first Mt. Everest Expedition in 1963, Miller conducted research on atmospheric pollution and other contributors to climate change. On that historic expedition, as the West Ridge climbers returned from the summit, Miller sacrificed his precious scientific water samples, laboriously collected from the Khumbu Icefall, in order to rehydrate the exhausted climbers.

Although a deeply spiritual person, Maynard Miller did not believe in any God of organized religion; instead, he found inspiration in the magnificence and wonder of nature. He also believed that through the challenge of rugged mountain expeditions, where teamwork is essential to achieve a common goal, the best in each individual may be revealed. His great joy was to share and provide these experiences for others.

A native of the Northwest, Miller graduated from Stadium High School in Tacoma, Washington. He studied geology and glaciology, receiving degrees from Harvard University and Columbia University, and his PhD from Cambridge University, England. During WWII Miller served on a Navy destroyer, seeing active duty in 11 major Pacific campaigns and sustaining injuries during an aircraft attack at sea. Late in life, Miller served three terms in the Idaho State House of Representatives where he advocated for expanding educational opportunities.

He will be remembered for his enthusiasm, unrelenting optimism and phrases such as, “stress helps you grow” and his closing on mountain radio transmissions, “mighty fine, mighty fine”.

Miller is survived by his sons and their spouses, Ross Miller (Denise), and Lance Miller (Jana). Miller also leaves behind his beloved grandchildren, Logan, Anna, Zachary and Eva, extended family in the Puget Sound area as well as scores of grateful students, scientific collaborators and co-adventurers.

Celebrations of the life of Maynard Malcolm Miller will be announced at a future date.

Newspaper and other print articles:

Remembering Dr. Maynard 'Mal' Miller, by Mary Catharine Martin, Juneau Empire, Feb. 14, 2014

A Remembrance of Dr. Maynard M. Miller, by Eduardo Crespo, April 4, 2014

Tribute to Dr. Maynard M. Miller, by Keith Daellenbach, Feb. 27, 2011

Educator and scientist Maynard Miller Dies at 93, AAG Newsletter, Feb. 18, 2014

Book: 'Memories of Maynard M. Miller and Other Juneau Icefield Lore'

For a limited time only (while supplies last) you can purchase a copy of a revised, spiral-bound 2nd edition of the 2011 Memories of Maynard M. Miller and Other Juneau Icefield Lore. Total cost, including shipping and handling, is $35. All proceeds go directly to JIRP.

Articles by Dr. Maynard Miller

On Reaching Upward, published in Appalachia in 1950

Historical audio and video from KTOO Radio - Juneau:

Thank you to KTOO's Matter Miller (@KTOOMatt) for this content.

Remembering Mal

"Some years ago, after the JIRP presentation and all the students had departed Atlin, Mal dropped in at my place for a chat and to share some nice red wine he had with him. Naturally we discussed the state of the world, and JIRP and other programs. As we came to relaxed and much more cheerful final comments, he said to me 'You know, it's kids like this that give me hope for the future. They really care, and they worked so well together (contented sigh).' Thanks, Mal!"

-- Nan Love, Atlin, BC

Image gallery:

Select any of the photos below to open a slideshow of all the images.

Joan W. Miller JIRP Scholarship Fund

Matthew Beedle December 7, 2013

Joan Walsh Miller – the late wife of long-time JIRP director Dr. Maynard M. Miller – was the behind-the-scenes engine that made JIRP work. A January 7, 1984 article in the Idahonian/Palouse Empire Daily News on Joan’s work reports her saying:

“Mal is the ‘soul’ of the program, and she’s the ‘workings’ of it”

For over fifty years Joan was devoted to the success of the Icefield program. Each year, for decades, Joan made the trek to Juneau and on to Atlin to take the helm of the logistics and business administration that steers a successful JIRP field expedition. Joan’s efforts extended beyond the summer program to off season fundraising, proposal writing, reports, reunion organization, newsletter preparation, writing reference letters for students, and more.

Joan took much pride in her JIRP efforts as they lead to the direct support of more than 1,500 students and some 400 associated faculty and staff during her decades of involvement. It is beyond doubt that without Joan’s many years of devoted support our JIRP experiences would not have been.

In memory of Joan, her phenomenal dedication to JIRP and particularly to JIRP students, we are excited to announce the Joan W. Miller JIRP Scholarship Fund. Donations will be used to help cover tuition costs of selected participants so that the JIRP experience can be accessible to all prospective students.

Please join the members of the FGER (Foundation for Glacier and Environmental Research) board of trustees, and others in giving generously and supporting future JIRP students. Help make the JIRP experience that we are privileged to have lived an opportunity for others. Your tax-deductible donation can be made online via PayPal, or directly to FGER via check or credit card:

Online via PayPal:

By sending a check or credit card details to:

Foundation for Glacier and Environmental Research
4616 25th Avenue NE, Suite 302
Seattle, Washington 98105

Please make checks payable to FGER, and note that your donation is for the JWM JIRP Scholarship Fund.

As with the M3 JIRP Legacy Fund we would like to offer you the opportunity to send a personal note to the Miller family along with your donation. You may include your personal message in the PayPal checkout process or with your donation via the FGER mailing address.

Your contribution to the Joan W. Miller JIRP Scholarship Fund helps to preserve Joan’s phenomenal legacy and to support future JIRP students in her name. Thank you for your ongoing support of the Juneau Icefield Research Program.