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E-book Paradise Blues : Travels through American Environmental History
Wiseman is in the Arctic, a hundred kilometres north of the polar circle. In summer, the sun does not set there and, in winter, it’s pitch black for days. According to the census, the former gold-rush boomtown had just fourteen inhabitants in 2010: seven men and seven women. In the farthest northern region of the USA where Wiseman lies, wild animals have outnumbered humans several times over since time began. Herds of caribou, the reindeer’s North American relative, migrate along centuries-old routes through the Gates of the Arctic National Park. Grizzly and black bears roam here too, as well as Dall sheep and wolves. Alaska, or Alyeska in the language of the indigenous Aleut people, means something like ‘great unknown country’. Marks on the landscape bear witness to its volcanic and glacial origins. A few hundred kilometres from Wiseman, glaciers formed by the sun trace the movements of the Ice Age like living fossils. Here you will find forests of black spruce and an endless tundra of mosses, lichens and ferns. When the snow melts, nature explodes. Plants shoot up out of the ground, mosquitoes multiply and the birds arrive – over a hundred species, of which some, espe-cially terns, have flown halfway across the globe to breed in Alaska. Nowhere else in the USA is nature so present, and nowhere else has humanity left such a faint trace on the landscape.I decide to travel to Wiseman because, when settlers of European descent immigrated to America, the mountains and valleys in this area remained barely touched; there are still historical cabins from the gold-rush era and this region is far off the beaten track for crowds of tourists. As an environ-mental historian, Wiseman also interests me because of the tension caused by the nature of its geology that is expressed in its landscape. The town itself only exists because of the exploitation of one natural resource: gold. Yet, in the immediate vicinity is one of the largest wildernesses on the American continent. Wiseman in particular interests me because I happened to read a book by Robert Marshall called Arctic Village. Marshall, a forester and plant pathologist and the son of a wealthy family of New York lawyers, flew to Wiseman in a sports plane for the first time at the end of 1929. The village and the outstanding beauty of the Brooks mountain range and Koyukuk River made such an impression on the 28-year-old that he decided to return in the summer of 1930. He stayed for fifteen months, officially to investigate the growth of trees at the timberline. In truth, he was interested in the lives of the 127 Inuit, American Indians and white settlers in Wiseman.
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