Almanac: Renovating history — Alterations save cabin, lose historic authenticity

Editor’s note: This is the third part of a three-part story concerning the Manitoba cabin at about Milepost 50 of the Seward Highway. Two weeks ago, Part One explored the contentiousness between the U.S. Forest Service and the owners of the cabin and its nearby mining claims. Last week, Part Two examined the earliest mining history related to the cabin and its likely progression of ownership. This week discusses the debate over the historic value of the cabin. Next week, the cabin gets a brand-new lease on life and recreational use.

By Clark Fair

Photos courtesy of Theresa Zimmerman. Lenore Robbins and her dog, Judy, stand alongside her snow-covered Manitoba cabin in the 1940s.

Redoubt Reporter

One of the least well-remembered chapters in the history of the Manitoba cabin concerns its startling brief ownership by Dr. Steven Harris.

On Jan. 21, 1976, the Manitoba cabin — part of claims A, B and C of what by then had become known as the Good Rock Claims — were conveyed to Dr. Harris by owners Michael “Whitey” and Patricia “Mickey” Van Deusen. Shortly thereafter, Harris was contacted by U.S. Forest Service officials, who wanted him to know of pending class-action legal proceedings against the property.

About three years earlier, Wesley Moulton of the U.S. Department of the Interior had performed a “geological examination” of the claims in question in order to determine their mineral potential. Although former owner Willard Dunham disputed the authenticity of the examination, Moulton’s findings were accepted by his agency.

Moulton wrote: “There have been several prospectors but no mining activity since prior to World War II. (This contradicts a Forest Service observation that Dunham’s parents had been mining on the property between 1943 and 1949.) The present claimants (the Dunhams) are not miners and at the time of the examination did not even have gold pans or sluice boxes. There is no evidence of new prospecting, and it appears the claims are not being used for mining.”

Moulton’s assessment initiated a process of deeming the area “mineral withdrawn.” Since Forest Service

Lenore Robbins looks out from her Manitoba cabin property toward cabins near the Mills-Fresno creek confluence in the 1940s.

regulations stated that no mining could occur in such an area, any mining claims there could be voided.

Just as the feds were about to void the Good Rock claims, however, the Dunhams put the property up for sale, and the Forest Service postponed action until a new owner took over.

That new owner was the Van Deusens, who paid the Dunhams $1,750 for the property in a sale in September 1973. Almost immediately, Whitey Van Deusen filed the proper labor notices for mining operations with the Bureau of Land Management, and so the Forest Service was forced to wait again, until Dr. Harris bought the place in 1976.

Almanac: Manitoba area rich in mining history

Editor’s note: This is Part Two of a multipart story concerning the Manitoba cabin at about Milepost 50 of the Seward Highway. Last week, Part One explored the contentiousness between the U.S. Forest Service and the owners of the cabin and its nearby mining claims. This week examines the earliest mining history related to the cabin and its likely progression of ownership. Next week, Part Three will discuss the debate over the historic value of the cabin. (Correction: Last week, there was an error in one date. Willard Dunham’s parents began making payments toward the purchase of the cabin in 1942, not in 1940 as previously stated.)

By Clark Fair

Redoubt Reporter

The Manitoba cabin was already well entrenched in family history by the time Willard and Beverly Dunham — away from the presence of their disapproving parents — got married in Fairbanks in 1951.
While Beverly was in college in Oregon, she received a wire from Willard in Fairbanks to tell her that he had just won $2,000 playing craps, and he wanted her to head north and get hitched. She quit school and flew to Fairbanks to say her vows.

“Our families,” said Beverly, “were not pleased at all.”
Fortunately, Willard’s parents — mother, Violet Lenore (Dunham) Robbins, and stepfather, Delbert Robbins — were

Delbert and Lenore Robbins do a little cross-country skiing, probably in the vicinity of the Mills Creek drainage.

not so unhappy with Willard that they were willing to disown him. When the Robbinses, who had purchased the Manitoba cabin in 1942 from Jack and Marie Shield, decided after statehood to leave Alaska, they deeded the cabin and adjoining property in 1961 over to Willard and Beverly for a dollar.

The Dunhams said they kept the property in the family for another decade before they, like Willard’s parents, tired of the U.S. Forest Service’s efforts to destroy the place, which they considered an important link to the area’s mining history.

The validity of that “link” has long been a source of controversy, however.

Judy, the Robbins’ family dog, prepares to race across the bridge over Mills Creek on her way up to the Manitoba cabin atop the hill.

The mining history of the area begins with a confluence of gold-bearing creeks and what came to be known as the Cook Inlet Gold Rush. East of the rocky promontory upon which sits the Manitoba cabin, Juneau and Mills creeks unite to travel westward into Fresno Creek to form Canyon Creek, which then tumbles through a jagged gorge before descending northward toward Sixmile Creek near the Hope Road. All of these creeks began receiving heavy mining pressure starting in about 1895.

According to Mary Barry in her book, “A Mining History of the Kenai Peninsula, Alaska,” Mills Creek was named for Sanford J. Mills, who acted as recorder for the Sunrise District and had planned to locate gold claims on the stream named for him. After he changed his mind and abandoned his claim in July 1895, opportunities arose for mining partners Robert Michaelson and John Renner, who came to Mills Creek and found coarse gold.

Almanac: Would preservative — Manitoba cabin’s existence once on unstable footing

Editor’s note: This is the first part of a multipart story concerning the Manitoba Cabin at about Milepost 50 of the Seward Highway. This week, part one explores the contentiousness between the U.S. Forest Service and the owners of the cabin and its nearby mining claims. Next week, part two will examine the earliest mining history related to the cabin and its likely progression of ownership.

By Clark Fair

Photo by Jenny Neyman, Redoubt Reporter. Manitoba Cabin as it appears today. At many times in its history, its continued existence was uncertain.

Redoubt Reporter

Willard Dunham answered the phone, listened for a few moments and immediately boiled over.

It was the early 1970s, and he was working as a longshoreman in Seward when he received a phone call from a gold miner named Ron Newcome, who operated several claims on Canyon Creek near a cabin that Dunham’s family had owned since 1940. Newcome wanted to alert Dunham to the movements of a U.S. Forest Service crew that was planning to destroy Dunham’s cabin.

It wasn’t the first time that the Forest Service had threatened the existence of the cabin, and it wouldn’t be the last. But on this particular occasion, Dunham was determined to meet the threat head on and deal face to face with the federal agents to whom he referred frequently as “bastards” and “sons o’ bitches.” He climbed immediately into his vehicle and sped down the Seward Highway toward his property beyond the northern end of Lower Summit Lake, nearly 50 miles away.

Newcome had explained that “a so-called team of experts out of Anchorage” had approached the Dunham property — located near the southwestern base of Mount Manitoba, just north of the confluence of Mills, Fresno and Canyon creeks — and dug a hole to test the validity of the minerals claim attached to the property. Finding no “color” at their test site, the experts had affixed to a nearby tree a yellow tag reading: AREA CLOSED TO MINING. NO MINERAL CONTENT FOUND.

Dunham arrived at his property just in time to confront these experts as they prepared to ignite his place.

“I told ’em, ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ and I took pictures of ’em. And I said, ‘When you do it, I’ve got it insured, so I’ll turn you in for arson.’ (The man in charge) looked at me and said, ‘Well, you can’t do this,’ and I said, ‘Watch me.’ And then they bundled up all of their stuff and left.”

Old Duck Hunter: Use, abuse a tough call on mines

By Steve Meyer, for the Redoubt Reporter

The first time I fished the Chuit River was during the summer of 1971. I had the good fortune of people in my life that were willing to take an 11-year-old kid to such a magnificent place to fish, and it was incredible. In the later part of this summer I am going to fish the rivers of Southwestern Alaska for the first time. Both of these destinations are perhaps being threatened by development in the name of fossil fuel and mineral extraction.

Pebble Mine and the Chuitna Coal Mine are proposed development projects that potentially could have catastrophic affects on these wilderness areas. As an avid hunter and fisherman, and a conservative who understands the value of commerce, a share of my adult life has been one of torment. I have a deep affection for wild places and fervently hope they will always be part of the history of our country.

With that, I understand the driving force of the development of fossil fuels and minerals. I have commercial fished — drift boat, set net and long line — in Cook Inlet and understand the plight of those whose livelihood comes from those endeavors. On the other hand, the development of oil and natural gas in Alaska is the sole reason for the modest life I enjoy. If most Alaskans were to honestly evaluate where their salaries come from, oil would have to be the answer. One cannot claim otherwise if employed by the state of Alaska or the federal government, our largest employers in Alaska. Construction of virtually every bit of modern infrastructure in Alaska is due to the financial largesse created by the resource extraction industry.

Perhaps with the mindset of a simpleton, my first question when the Pebble and Chuitna coal projects came to the forefront under protest was, why is the Department of Natural Resources leasing property for development in these areas without first determining if such development is feasible or desirable? It truly baffles me. Be that as it may, it doesn’t help when I am trying to sort out in my mind where I stand on either of these projects.

PacRim digs into Chuitna plans — Representative offers update on changes to mining plan across inlet

By Joseph Robertia

Photos courtesy of Judy Heilman, Chuitna Citizen’s Coalition. The Chuit River flows through the proposed Chuitna Mine area on the west side of Cook Inlet, 45 miles from Anchorage.

Redoubt Reporter

Members of the Kenai-Soldotna Fish and Game Advisory Committee heard from representatives of PacRim Coal on Thursday with an update of their plans to develop a coal mine at Chuitna, across Cook Inlet, roughly 12 miles northwest of the village of Tyonek.

Much of the presentation focused on the benefits of the mine, should all permitting applications withstand public and related agencies’ reviews. But, knowing their target audience, PacRim’s update also focused heavily on the effects the mine would have on the surrounding watershed and the fish and game species living there.

“The Chuitna coal project is not a choice between a coal mine or fish,” said Dan Graham, Chuitna project manager since 2009. “It is designed for both.”

Graham began the presentation by explaining one of the changes to the original mining plan, which was amended to reduce the impact of development in the area. Rather than creating a long road through the wilderness area around land owned by the Tyonek Native Corporation, PacRim entered into an easement agreement with them to transport the coal directly from the mine to the port facilities at Ladd Landing in Cook Inlet.

“Under the easement agreement, we’ll install an elevated coal conveyor system to transport the coal,” Graham said. “The unique design of this conveyor system will significantly reduce the environmental impact of the project infrastructure.”

The conveyor system will feature a belt, roughly 5 feet wide and 80 to 100 feet high, that runs between towers located 1,400 feet apart. This will eliminate coal transfer points between the mine and port, reduce stream crossings from seven to one, and will reduce the length of the proposed new road construction from 12 miles to six, he said.

Anti-coal force digs in against governor

By Naomi Klouda

Photos courtesy of Judy Heilman, Chuitna Citizen’s Coalition. The Chuit River flows through the proposed Chuitna Mine area on the west side of Cook Inlet, 45 miles from Anchorage. The state recently opposed a petition to protect the river from PacRim Coal’s strip-mining plans.

Homer Tribune

When Gov. Sean Parnell’s administration concluded that PacRim Coal’s proposed mine through 11 miles of salmon stream is not unsuitable, those who fought to protect the river were only temporarily stunned.

“This is just a bump on the road. We’re not giving up,” said Bobbi Burnett, secretary-treasurer of the Chuitna Citizen’s Coalition. “The salmon are more important. They can last hundreds of thousands of years, but the coal will be done in 25 years.”

In the two weeks since Gov. Parnell and the Alaska Department of Natural Resources dismissed an unsuitable lands petition filed by local citizens, the public awareness campaign on behalf of the river may have finally reached mainstream Alaskans.

Gov. Parnell is being called to the mat in a flood of mail to his office and in a public war waged through a letters campaign. With the decision Chuitna has achieved name recognition closer to par with the proposed Pebble Mine, its proponents hope. In its obscure but central location 45 miles west of Anchorage, the governor’s rejection has helped wake a matter that rested uncomfortably under the rug. Or, in this case, under the rich peat moss of a fertile coal bed that also cuts through a rich, intact salmon stream featuring five healthy species’ runs.

“Gov. Parnell should be ashamed of himself,” said Judy Heilman, president of the Chuitna Citizens Coalition, whose admonishment of the state’s position made it into nearly every newspaper in the state. “We trusted the governor when he said his administration would never trade one resource for another. But now it’s clear. The governor is willing to trade our salmon and fishing jobs in exchange for coal to power China.”

“Initiatives and petitions are important, lawful expressions of citizens’ views. Still, the state permitting process is the place where all individual Alaskans and local communities can express their support or opposition to a project. Alaska has one of the most extensive permitting processes designed to assure public input counts and scientific evidence is considered,” said Sharon Leighow, press secretary for Gov. Parnell’s office.

“Local initiatives or petitions must be turned away if they attempt to favor narrow slices of environmental or industry interests over all Alaskans’ interests,” Leighow  said. “Where the resources of our state belong to all the people, the governor remains committed to assuring every Alaskan’s voice is heard in a lawful permitting process.”

Geared up to strike it rich — Miner churned out productive innovations

By Clark Fair

Photos by Clark Fair, Redoubt Reporter. This huge solid-steel gear is one of many old pieces of machinery slowly being absorbed by the plant life on the site of the Wible Mining Camp.

Redoubt Reporter

Today, the average dump truck hauls about 10 cubic yards of gravel every time it roars out of the pit.

Early in the first decade of the 20th century, when the Tyee Mining Company’s placer operation on Canyon Creek was at its peak, it was processing up to 1,000 cubic yards of gravel each day in its search for gold.

That’s the equivalent of 100 dump-truck loads every day.

Although the Seward Highway now descends the west bank of Canyon Creek from Summit Lake to the Hope Highway, this tremendous outburst of mining production occurred before there were highways and when there were only a few wagon roads. Mostly, there were trails, many of them difficult to navigate because of the rocky, uneven terrain and the numerous streams tumbling out of the mountains.

Visitors to this area today can pull their vehicles into a small turnout at about Milepost 54, gaze

Marly Perschbacher (L) prepares to help Rick Matiya and Donna Lester cross a slippery log over a small stream crossing the ancient roadbed to the Wible Camp. The road is overgrown in places and very wet at times.

across the canyon at the site of the old mining camp, and read two informative (albeit bullet-riddled) signs that discuss the placer operation and the man most responsible for its success — Simon William Wible.

Simon Wible, who was born in Pennsylvania in 1832, was a visionary rich man with the skill and knowledge necessary to turn big ideas into reality — and into profits. Partly due to Wible’s innovations, Canyon Creek, in the early 1900s, was the major gold-producing stream in the Turnagain Arm Mining District. Historically speaking, its production in the district is second only to Crow Creek near Girdwood.

Chuitna coal debate heats up — Gov. Parnell’s administration charged with violating rules

By Naomi Klouda

Homer Tribune

A lawsuit against the Gov. Sean Parnell administration will be the next step if a legal process for protesting the Chuitna coal development continues to go unanswered.

Under hard-rock mining laws, Unsuitable Lands Petitions cannot be filed, such as in the case of the Pebble Project. But under soft-rock mining for coal, a provision exists for citizens and groups to petition the government arguing that a particular area should be deemed unsuitable, said Cook InletKeeper Executive Director Bob Shavelson.

“There is a section specifically written that states if an area is unsuitable for mining and cannot be reclaimed to its pre-mining values, then petitioners can ask to have it removed from the mining plan,” he said.

This legal right for interjecting public input is outlined in the Alaska Surface Coal Mining Control and Reclamation Act.

The proposed coal project would run through 11 miles of salmon stream. Though PacRim Coal has said it can rebuild the habitat that supports wild salmon, biologists have disagreed.

Shavelson fired off a letter Monday to the governor reminding him that the Unsuitable Lands Petition response deadline has come and gone. Under law, the Alaska Department of Natural Resources had a legal duty to respond to the petition by April 19. Four months later, the administration has failed to act, Shavelson wrote in the letter.

Rich in experience — Sterling rock hound strikes gold in vacation pastime

By Jenny Neyman

Photo courtesy of Tom Cooper. Tom Cooper, of Sterling, grins as he holds up a monster gold nugget he plucked from a tailings field July 1 at Ganes Creek, near McGrath. Cooper goes gold hunting once a year at the old mine site, which opened to recreational gold-seekers in 2002.

Redoubt Reporter

 

As gold fever goes, Tom Cooper’s case was fairly low grade.

For the first few decades of his life in Alaska he was interested in going looking for it, but other things took priority — family, work and hunting for other treasures that are more easily and reliably found, like agates, crystals and the antlers and sheep horns he carves and sells.

When he finally did start prospecting in 2005, making an annual summer trip to Clark-Wiltz’s recreational mining operation at Ganes Creek 25 miles west of McGrath, using a metal detector to comb through the thousands of acres of tailings piles left by bucket-line dredges and bulldozer operations of the past, he contented himself with modest results.

“I told myself I’d rather get a little nugget a day than one big one all week,” said Cooper, who runs his Alaska Horn and Antler shop in Sterling.

Almanac: Solitary Secora — Miner, guide carved out secluded life on Tustumena

Editor’s note: This is the first of a two-part story about Tustumena miner and trapper Joe Secora, who lived a mostly solitary life on the lake for several decades. Part one reveals the type of man Secora was and the way he lived. Next week, part two will discuss his origins and his abrupt demise.

By Clark Fair

Redoubt Reporter

Joe Secora was not known as a letter writer. Although he was an avid reader,

Photo courtesy of George Pollard. A group of Joe Secora’s clients in the late 1950s share a laugh as they display the trophies of their sheep hunt in the mountains. Secora is standing at the far right.

he never filled the pages of a journal with words of his own. Taciturn without the dour demeanor, he seldom initiated communication but was genial enough once engaged in conversation.

As a result of these traits, Secora, when he died suddenly nearly 40 years ago, left little record except in the memories of those who knew him. Consequently, his voice comes filtered through the recollections of others and through his Tustumena handiwork, of which there was plenty.

In the years after arriving at Tustumena Lake in 1938, just before his 30th birthday, Secora built three cabins and mined for gold in the turbulent waters of Indian Creek. He hand-dug trenches and canals; he built mining tools and fashioned sluice boxes; he moved heavy earth in search for ore.

As the years passed, Secora walked the upper lakeshore and the mountains at its periphery, learned their convolutions and best passages, and found their hidden, magical places, such as an ancient, giant cottonwood grove near the glacier flats.

He also learned the ways of the animals that trod these hills and valleys, and

Photo courtesy of George Pollard. Joe Secora dumps a load of creek gravel from his handmade wheelbarrow into his handmade sluice box on the banks of Indian Creek near Tustumena Lake in the late 1950s.

when young George Pollard became an area big-game guide in 1958 and asked Secora to work for him, he said yes and he excelled.

“He was the best, if you could keep up with him,” Pollard said. “He wasn’t so fast, but he was steady, up and down the mountains. He just never quit.”

Mute points — When public speaks, does DNR listen?

By Jenny Neyman

Redoubt Reporter

Anyone who would equate “public comment hearing” with “boring” might have left a Jan. 19 meeting in Kenai regarding the proposed Chuitna coal mine with a different opinion. The three-and-a-half-hour session at the Challenger Learning Center of Alaska, with more than 150 people attending and nearly 60 people testifying on a petition to designate portions of the Chuit River Watershed as unsuitable for surface coal mining operations, resembled, at times, “Judge Judy” more than C-SPAN, more performance piece than watching paint dry.

Interspersed with the facts and figures — scientific and economic data cited, examples related, talk of precedents to be set and harms that could result — were more colorful testimonies. People quoted from books and delivered their own carefully crafted speeches. They teared up, made jokes and lashed out. Some spoke in elaborate prose, while others dealt out off-the-cuff quips. They invoked God, family histories and cultural heritage. Some brought props. One sang a song.

Several took the Alaska Department of Natural Resources to task for what they perceive to be a lack of consideration given to the public’s wishes.

“DNR, you’ve got to listen to what we’re telling you. I don’t eat coal, I eat salmon. Our elected officials don’t listen to us anymore. We’re tired of this stuff with outside interest groups coming up here destroying our wildlife and our habitat. If everybody in this room would call the governor and (Alaska DNR) Commissioner (Dan) Sullivan, that’s more people who’s going to get noticed,” said George Pierce, of Kasilof. “It’s too bad that these people have to take time out to address this ridiculous matter. It’s sad it’s gone this far.”

While the vehemence, emotion, diction and drama added to the interest of the evening, it likely did not achieve the presenters’ aim — to sway the DNR decision on the petition. It’s not that the speakers weren’t welcome to talk, or that their comments weren’t heard and recorded — they just weren’t all saying what DNR is directed to consider.

“We’re looking for all comments. People need to be able to speak what’s concerning them. But what would really help is information that is directly related to what is being decided upon,” said Russell Kirkham, project manager for the Alaska Coal Regulatory Program, under DNR’s Division of Mining Land and Water.

Hot topic — Chuitna Mine issue draws wider attention

By Jenny Neyman

Photos courtesy of Judy Heilman, Chuitna Citizens Coalition. Wetlands, seen above, dot the Beluga Gas Fields area, planned to be part of the proposed Chuitna coal mine.

Redoubt Reporter

Judy and Lawrence Heilman, of Beluga, have gotten used to feeling ignored in their fight to stop PacRim Coal’s Chuitna mine project, the proposed strip mine that could cover about 30 square miles in the Beluga Coal Fields near the communities of Tyonek and Beluga.

The proposed Pebble Mine, with its better-funded opposition, has garnered more attention and oppositional support, while it seems the Chuitna Mine project has barely registered on even other environmental groups’ radar, much less the consciousness of the rest of the state, Judy Heilman said. Much of their five-year battle has felt like shouting into the wind.

But on Jan. 19, those winds shifted, and the Heilmans heard a big response to their calls. About 150 people showed up at a public hearing in Kenai held by the Department of Natural Resources to gather feedback on a petition to designate certain lands within the Chuitna project area as unsuitable for coal mining. The position was filed by Trustees for Alaska on behalf of Cook Inletkeeper and the Chuitna Citizens Coalition, of which Judy is president.

People drove through a snowstorm from Anchorage, communities in the Matanuska-Susitna Borough and other areas of the peninsula. They flew over Cook Inlet from Beluga, tried to fly from Tyonek — weather kept some planes grounded — and people came out from their homes in the central peninsula area. Of the 130-plus people who gave public testimony at the meeting, only one spoke in favor of the mine. All others spoke in favor of the petition, which seeks to have salmon streams and habitat within the Chuit River watershed protected from surface coal mining.

“Seeing all of you here makes me cry. Thank you. When we first started this fight, we thought we were alone,” Judy said, as she started her five-minute window of testimony in the three-plus-hour meeting.