Fairbanks Rescue Mission: a moral dilemma?

I mentioned in a previous blog that I would like to volunteer at a homeless shelter in Fairbanks. The only shelter here seems to be the Fairbanks Rescue Mission, a Christian-based organization that provides food, shelter, and clothing for Fairbanks' needy, transient, and homeless people. I don't object to religious organizations helping those in need - in fact I think its one of the most beautiful aspects of all (?) religions. What I don't agree with is when people try to impose their belief system onto others. What feels best for one person may not be the best thing for somebody else. I think all belief systems are fine, so long as they don't justify hurting somebody else or their property. Anyway, the Fairbanks Rescue Mission requires their "tenants" to attend chapel services and study the bible. I'm not sure that I want to support that... It's one thing to say that the food and shelter being provided to you comes from the grace of God - and even offer chapel services -, its another to try to forcefully convert you by taking advantage of your situation.

I'll keep searching though. Maybe there is another organization that I'm more willing to support.

The poor glaciers

At present, more than 90% of the glaciers on Earth are retreating. Of course, glacier retreat is not as simple as it may seem.

First, a little refresher: glaciers form when snow accumulation rates exceed melting rates over many years. Eventually the snow metamorphoses into ice as a result of increasing pressure in the snowpack. When the ice becomes thick enough, it deforms under its own weight and flows downhill. As the glacier reaches lower elevations, melting begins to exceed accumulation, until it reaches a point (the terminus) where the ice melts faster than it can flow forward. A change in terminus position can be due to a change in (1) air temperature, (2) snowfall, or (3) ice dynamics. Snowfall is related to air temperature, and ice dynamics is related to air temperature, snowfall, ice temperature, crystal size, and basal properties. It's clearly a difficult problem.

Furthermore, two glaciers located close to each other can behave very differently as a result of local variations in climate or dynamical processes. So the fact that over 90% of the glaciers are retreating is actually very alarming - most of the world's advancing glaciers are tidewater glaciers, which are glaciers that end in the sea and can behave independently of climate. I'd rather not get into the reasons for this, but I can point to the right direction if you're curious enough to learn more.

Evidence for glacier retreat is clear everywhere in Alaska; when walking in the mountains you can see recently-deposited moraines (rock piles left by the glaciers) that are now high above the ice surface. There is also plenty of photographic evidence - for example, see this photo at the USGS website.

A significant portion of this retreat can be attributed to natural cycles. Much of the Earth experienced a cooling period from about 1550-1850, dubbed the "Little Ice Age". And so some of this retreat is result of subsequent warming. What might not be attributed to natural causes is the increasing rate of retreat. Between the mid-1950s and mid-1990s, Alaska glaciers contributed about 0.14 mm/yr to sea level rise. Over the last 15 years, that rate has increased to closer to 0.30 mm/yr.

Glaciers in Greenland remained in pretty steady positions until the last 5 years or so. Now, all (?) glaciers south of about 68° N are rapidly retreating and accelerating. For example, Jakobshavns Isbræ, the glacier I will study for my Ph.D., has retreated 15 km in the last few years and ice flow has accelerated from 7 km/yr to ~15 km/yr at the terminus. Here's another common misconception, almost always screwed up the media and the anti-climate warming people - an accelerating glacier does not have to be advancing. The beds of the glaciers in Greenland are well below sea level. When the ice thins, it can become buoyant - this reduces the drag and also results in the rapid calving of large icebergs. (Yes, these are tidewater glaciers that can respond independently of climate, but that fact that so many of them are retreating simultaneously points to a climate-induced retreat. The popular theory at the moment is that the retreat is due to increasing ocean temperatures.)

Opponents of human-induced global warming would ask why didn't these changes happen earlier - we've been using fossil fuels for over 50 years. The answer to that is again related to the complex relationship between ice volume distribution and dynamics. Simply put, large ice masses respond slowly to changes in climate.

Heat wave

Now that it's finally warmed up (by 70 degrees!) I've finally had the chance to enjoy the ski trails around our cabin. That's one of the best parts about life in Fairbanks: I can literally put my skis on in the driveway and start skiing into a relatively pristine forest. And, from those trails, I can connect to a whole network of dog mushing trails and frozen rivers that would take me to Nome, Barrow, and beyond. Of course I haven't done that, but I could, and it's a nice thought to know that such opportunities still exist in the world.

As Fairbanks comes out of its coldest January in 35 years, maybe its an appropriate time to talk about human-induced global warming. A friend of mine (Joe) was curious to hear what I might have to say about the subject, since I am a scientist-in-training in a related field. I could quite easily ramble on about global warming, but he was hoping for an objective response, which means I should spend some time thinking about what I say. Plus I should warn that, although my research is related to climate change, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about how humans influence climate. I do hear about these things at conferences and seminars -- I just need to review my facts.

I think I'll start by reviewing evidence for global warming and the uncertainities with those observations, and then I'll get into the more controversial stuff (depending on who you talk to). If you have certain topics to be addressed, questions, or problems with what I've said, then post away!

To be continued...

Winter in Fairbanks

Today I'm thankful for down jackets and mittens. Click here: January 27, 2006

Koli National Park

Then back to Finland and onto a train that took us to eastern Finland, quite near the border with Mother Russia to visit with some friends. We had many interesting discussions on the fate of wilderness and indigenous peoples. Two of our friends living there are particularly interested in these topics; through a program called "Snowchange", which our friend started, they’ve traveled and lived with indigenous groups in remote areas of the arctic and interviewed elders about their observations of climate change. Essentially, they are trying to increase dialogue between the scientific community and local people living on the land as they have for thousands of years. If you’re interested in learning more, click here.

We made a stop at Koli National Park, the so-called “National Landscape of Finland”. Numerous poets and artists have been inspired by Koli, especially during the nationalist movement of Finland in the 19th century and early 20th century (Finland gained independence from Russia in 1917). Images of Koli have played an important role in forming the identity of the Finnish people, much in the same way as the western frontier has influenced America’s self image. Unfortunately, we were unable to take any good photos when we were there because the weather was overcast.

Dunkles hefeweizen

After the exciting trip to the top of Pyynikinharju, it was time for some bier und brezelen. Inari, her sister Anu, and myself visited our friend Rolland who lives in Mannheim, Germany. From the tourist’s point of view, Mannheim leaves something to be desired. It was destroyed during WWII and quickly re-built with cheap supplies, so that it lost much of the character it once had. But it is maybe the more realistic Germany (when compared to popular tourist destinations), and that made it quite interesting, especially with a local guide who was excited to show us around and answer my millions of questions about Nazism, WWII, the re-unification of Germany, the German economy, and the philosophy of beer. I’ve come to the realization that I really do enjoy learning history (previously I thought it was boring), but not the history that you learn in textbooks.

Besides being in Mannheim we also spent one day in Worms, an old Jewish center on the River Rhein that has the oldest Jewish cemetery in Europe, and two days in Heidelberg, a popular tourist spot that was not bombed during WWII because some important American was fond of the city. I’m pretty sure I was there 10 years ago with my family, but I didn’t realize that until Rolland bought a bratwurst from what I think is the same vender that I bought one from 10 years ago (I didn’t remember the person, just the place). Heidelberg has many things to keep a visitor busy, including castle and monastery ruins, a lovely old town, the philosopher’s walk, a fairy tale park, and a Nazi theater. Our guide book said that the fairy tale park is a delight for kids, in which case I’m still a kid!

The highest moraine ridge in the world

Inari’s sister lives near Pyynikinharju, which is a 200 km long moraine that was deposited by the retreating Fenno-Scandian ice sheet during the last ice age; at approximately 100 m high it is (supposedly) the highest moraine ridge in the world. A moraine is a pile of poorly sorted, angular rocks deposited by a glacier along its margin or at its terminus; they usually form when rocks that fall onto the glacier are transported downglacier and are left near the terminus as the ice melts and becomes stagnant, though in some cases moraines form when a glacier pushes sediments like a bulldozer.

I was unable to confirm whether Pyynikinharju is the highest moraine ridge in the world for a few reasons:

1. Nobody really cares.
2. There seems to be some confusion in the geologic nomenclature. The Finnish word “harju” means ridge, but is often translated as esker, which it certainly is not, though both eskers and moraines are ridges. An esker is a long, sinuous ridge of sand and till deposited in a subglacial water channel. Also, the Finnish use the word “moreeni” to mean till, which is just a relatively thin layer of subglacial sediment – till is abundant in the northern plains of North America.
3. I don’t understand enough Finnish to read through all the Finnish web pages discussing Pyynikinharju.

At any rate, it’s a beautiful place with great views of the city of Tampere and the two large lakes that surround it. So far it’s my favorite city in Finland.

The Cave

My Grandma and I started an electronic book club about a year ago, that is, if a "club" can consist of just two people. Anyway, it's not particularly exclusive and anybody, even if you're a nobody or just somebody, can "join". The rule of the club is that any books we read must have been written by somebody who won the Nobel Prize for Literature, but the book need not be the author's most famous or even written prior to receiving the prize. Other than that, anything goes. We've made it through the following books so far:

1. Quo Vadis by Henryk Sientkiewicz
2. A Personal Matter by Oe Kenzaburo
3. Beloved by Toni Morrison
4. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
5. Midaq Alley by Naguib Mahfouz
6. The Cave by José Saramago

Each book has been special for its own reasons, but some have been more special than others. We've already visited ancient Rome, modern Japan, slavery, the Spanish Civil War, Cairo, and the "Center". Sometimes we've visited topics we would've preferred not to have visited, but maybe we're better off for having done so.

We most recently finished The Cave, a story about an elderly potter, his daughter and son-in-law, and a dog called Found. The story itself isn't so important, its the poetic and insightful writing that makes this book a fun read. Paragraphs often surpassed three or four pages, some sentences were up to a page long and full of commas. Dialogue was not seperated in the usual style, but rather by commas and capital letters. This made it difficult to follow at times, until you realized that it didn't matter who said the words, only that they were said. Saramago is really a poet, but maybe he realized that he would have a better chance of making a living by writing stories. This story is really a poem, disguised by a plot. Read it for the word play, but stay and enjoy the symbolism, for which there is a lot: the circularity of life, self-discovery, individuality, the dangers of mass marketing, Plato's cave, and pottery (believe me, there is a common thread through these things).

So, what's next?

Finnish New Year

New Year’s Eve is the only time of year that a permit is not required to shoot off fireworks in Finland. Of course, some people get a little bit antsy and start firing them off as much as two or three days before New Year’s Eve. Come December 31, everybody is shooting them off – all night long. The result is spectacular, and a little bit crazy. I suspect it’s a little bit like being in a war zone: step outside your house and you are immediately surrounded by explosions, you never know when or from which direction the next one will come. My favorite “fireworks” were the emergency flares; normally it is illegal to fire these unless there is an emergency, except, of course, on New Year’s Eve. The flares look like bright red jellyfish slowly floating through the sky.

Tallinn, Estonia

Inari and I took a two-day trip from Helsinki to Tallinn, Estonia. Tallinn is about 3 hours away by ferry, and a crazy ferry ride it is. Estonia has become something of a weekend getaway for Finns for a variety of reasons: it’s cheaper, it’s familiar but foreign, and because you can buy duty-free alcohol on the ferries. This latter point is very important because alcohol is highly taxed in Finland.

Estonia has traditionally been something of a sister country to Finland. The languages and cultures are very similar, and there has been a lot of trading between the countries throughout the years. This was put to halt for about 60 when Estonia was occupied by the Soviet Union, but has resumed in recent years. The relationship has changed though, and the wounds of the communist days have not healed completely. I think the relationship can be compared to a situation in which one sibling is locked up and abused for years, and the other is unable to help (how could Finland free Estonia from the Soviet Union?) and of course feels very bad about the situation. Estonia suffered some very difficult times that it is still unable to openly discuss, so you can imagine that there is some awkwardness between Estonia and Finland. This is not helped by the fact that many Finns traveling to Estonia assume that Estonians living in Tallinn can speak Finnish, which is often true, for they were able to watch Finnish television during the Soviet days, but is probably not the best way to rejuvenate an old relationship. At the moment, Estonians probably feel closer to Latvians and Lithuanians since they had common histories during a very difficult time period.

Tallinn is one of the oldest cities in northern Europe, first mentioned in text in the 1100’s. A wall was built around the city in the early 1300’s or so; much of the wall and old buildings are still standing. Tallinn has been conquered and re-conquered many times, but somehow survived every battle. The Soviets were content to let Tallinn fall to ruins, leaving many of the buildings in a state of disrepair. But Tallinn persevered, and is now having a re-birth that started with the end of communism. I found it to be a very interesting conglomeration of history: some very old buildings that have stood for centuries, some very modern buildings that have been built in the past 15 years, and everywhere scars of communism.

Joulu suomessa (Christmas in Finland)

I've spent the past week experiencing Christmas the Finnish way, which is to say, eating lots of food and visiting with Inari's family and friends. In that regard, Christmas here is the same as in the States. But there are many differences as well. For one, Finns seem to have many more traditional Christmas foods than Americans. Christmas tort, Christmas salad, Christmas beer, etc. My personal favorite is glögi, a spiced wine served hot with almonds and raisins (in the wine). What a nice drink for a cold, dark winter day! This year I also survived my first encounter with lipeäkala, aka lutefisk. I was a little disappointed to realize that lipeäkala is edible; that's not to say that it tastes good, but it's just not that bad, especially with an appropriate amount of white sauce.

One Finnish tradition that I really appreciate is "pikkujoulu" or literally, "little Christmas". A fuller translation would say that pikkujoulu is a small gathering (or party) held to thank friends for the good times that they've had over the past year. But it's not necessarily just one party; in one given year you might attend many different pikkujoulus and host a few yourself. During pikkujoulu, you, of course, serve traditional Christmas foods (snacks) and drinks, and maybe sing some Christmas songs.

Hyvää joulua ja onnelista uutta vuotta! (Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!)

Speaking Finnish

My Finnish is not very good - rudimentary at best. But after spending four days with Inari's grandparents, who don't know a word of English, I feel a renewed desired to learn more. I spent more than one morning in the kitchen with them (while Inari was sleeping) trying to explain very simple ideas. I think they occasionally understand me (no, I don't drink coffee; yes, I'd like some cheese), but more often than not we just looked at each other in complete confusion and threw our arms up in the air. "Oh, it's not important. It's ok."

And, though Finns generally speak English quite well, they are obviously more comfortable speaking Finnish, which means that I'm often left out of discussions. Sometimes I can pick out a few words to understand the general context, and if I'm lucky somebody will summarize the conversation in English. But most of the time I just pretend to be a stereotypical Finnish male: quiet. Not that I expect them to speak English, I'm just happy that they can speak English.

Onward to Finland

My stop in Minneapolis lasted longer than I intended; thanks to bad weather in Chicago my flights were delayed and I left a day later. The trip to Finland was miserable for various reasons, but I finally made it late Saturday night and am now suffering from jet lag, as usual.

I'm looking forward to having some down time. Even though my time in Minneapolis was vacation, I was quite busy meeting up with people and travelling around. The nice thing about vacationing in Finland is that I feel at home, but I don't have to worry much about work or meeting up with people. Basically I just go wherever Inari goes, but only if I feel like it.

It's interesting how one's perception of a place changes with time. Each time I've come to Finland I've come with a better grasp of the Finnish language, which isn't saying much, but more importantly, I'm less ashamed of saying something stupid. Also, certain things become familiar and "normal", but that's not to say they make sense. For example, why are the light switches for the bathrooms on the outside of the rooms? Is it so that kids can turn the lights off on their siblings while they're sitting on the toilet? Why don't strangers who pass on an empty street say "hello"? And if they do, why are they considered drunk, crazy, or American? Why do Finns always wait for a walk signal when crossing an intersection, even if there aren't any cars for miles? Maybe someday I'll have the answer's to these deep questions of life.

First publication

The manuscript that I eluded to in earlier posts has finally been accepted for publication in the Journal of Geophysical Research - Earth Surface. Since many people have asked me how the publication process works, I thought I'd try to explain it - but in a broader context (how does science "work"?).

First, you have to figure out what questions to ask about your particular field; this is fairly natural and usually stems directly from your previous work. Then you have to figure out a creative way to investigate those questions, and of course, find a funding agency willing to support your work. For glaciology, the funding sources are typically the National Science Foundation or NASA, but there are other options. You must then write a proposal (usually with other investigators) and submit it to the funding agency. The proposal goes through a review panel consisting of scientists in the same field and in related fields. They ultimately choose which projects will be funded.

If your project is funded, you usually receive two to three years of support; the amount of money you receive depends on the nature of the project. After you conduct your research, you are expected to publish it in a peer-reviewed journal. This is crucial if you hope to continue in academics, make tenure, or continue receiving funding.

The peer-review process is science's attempt at objectivity, and usually it works well. But as I have learned from my own experience and from others' stories, there is a certain amount of politics and personal agendas that are difficult to avoid. Even though we as scientists are taught to separate our opinions from our work, it is sometimes difficult to hear somebody else tell you that what you've worked on for the past 5 years is a bunch of crap. So naturally, some (but definitely not all) scientists develop egos and hold grudges.

At any rate, after conducting your research, you typically write a 12-15 page paper and submit it to an appropriate journal. A scientific editor with the journal (usually a researcher in the field) reads the paper and forwards it to two or three other people for review. The reviewers are not affiliated with the journal, and are typically faculty members or senior graduate students. They read the paper critically and raise a number of questions regarding the work. The editor then has the choice to (1) accept the paper as is, (2) accept it with minor revisions, (3) accept it with major revisions, or (4) reject it. Choice 2 usually involves minor wording changes that will be only be re-reviewed by the editor. Choice 3 may require substantial re-writing or re-analysis, and resubmittal usually results in the paper being sent back to the same reviewers. This can go through a couple of iterations until the paper is finally accepted. Rejection does not necessarily mean that the manuscript is "dead", but probably requires serious thinking about the work that you've done. If you choose to keep working on the paper, you may need to try submitting to a different journal, depending on the terms and reasons for rejection.

When your work is finally accepted for publication, you transfer copyright privileges to the journal, along with about $100 per page and up to $1000 for figures if they are in color (this money comes from grants, if there is no money the journal may waive the fee). The journal publishes the work, sends you "pre-prints" (which are essentially nice copies of your manuscript), and sells the journal to libraries and individuals. And then you wait to become famous. If you're particularly successful, you will receive phone calls from science reporters who will misinterpret your statements and write about your "results" in the newspaper. Then, of course, politicians take the newspaper articles and twist them to satisfy their own agenda, such that in the end you have little faith that the general public really understands the current state of science.

This is my third year of graduate school and I'm already jaded.

First stop: San Francisco

I survived my first trip to the American Geophysical Union (AGU) annual conference. I think survived is the correct word choice, since I felt a sense of relief when the conference ended (after enduring 5 days of poster sessions, talks, and schmoozing). Over 10,000 geophysicists attend this meeting, making it the largest geophysics meeting in the world, to the best of my knowledge. Although the goal of any scientific conference is to share ideas, this conference in particular is a great chance to meet up with old friends, and actually, I think many people attend for that reason alone. The other reason is to eat a lot of good food... Too much, perhaps.


San Francisco was a little overwhelming for me (especially at first), coming from Fairbanks. There are so many interesting places and people to observe, and the cultural diversity is exceptional. I was most struck by the large homeless population - it left me feeling guilty of my privileges (and as a student I'm not exactly rolling in the dough). In certain areas of town you could find homeless people on every street corner, and many of them seemed to have physical and/or mental disabilities. I feel inspired to become involved with the homeless shelter in Fairbanks - maybe by posting these words on the internet I will feel more compelled to do so.

While there, I met up with some old friends, including Jess, with whom I did a 6-week canoe in the Canadian arctic in summer 1998. He was a great host, picking me up at the airport on Sunday and taking me to the (supposedly) best breakfast in San Francisco, then on to Muir Woods, the coast, and dinner at some tasty Indian restaurant. On Saturday (our shared birthday) we went to the farmer's market, and then over to Berkeley to stroll around.


I also tried to experience a little culture (and wanted to make Inari jealous) so I went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. They had some nice exhibits, including many self-portraits of Chuck Close, some of which are usually displayed at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. The building itself was very interesting, and was part of larger art center that included a theater and other attractions.


It's difficult to express all the images and experiences from the week. It was fun, but also exhausting.

Half way around the world and back again

Sorry about the lack of updates lately - the last couple of weeks have been pretty hectic, between trying to make progress on my thesis (its essentially finished, though I won't defend until March), preparing a poster for the American Geophysical Union conference which is next week, and putting the finishing touches on the paper that is nearly accepted into the Journal of Geophysical Research. And then, of course, there is skiing, hockey, and playing hand drums and steel drums!

Over the next 7 weeks I'll be gone from Fairbanks, but I'll try to keep posting as I go, and hopefully put some more thought into the posts than I have recently (sorry). At the very least I'll put up some photos of my Fairbanks - San Francisco - Minneapolis - Helsinki - Mannheim - Helsinki - Fairbanks trip. I'm looking forward to this much needed break, though I do feel a little guilty taking such a long vacation. Once I'm back I'll start preparing for field work next summer in western Greenland!

Sleepy season

As a friend put it, "when you live in Alaska (or anywhere in the far north), you finally realize that the Earth is a round object". The extreme change in seasons is wonderful, but the change in daylight is almost painful. It's hard to sleep during summer because it's too light out, it's hard to stay awake during winter because it's too dark. As we move toward the winter solstice I find the time I arrive at work gets later and later. It's just too difficult to get up before the sun rises, which nowadays is close to 10:00 am... Luckily I won't get "fired" for showing up late, as long as the work gets done it doesn't matter when and where I work.

It seems most everybody here suffers from SAD (seasonal affective disorder) to some degree. I wasn't prepared my first year here. I didn't realize how much the light was affecting me until spring came and I felt so good! Every year since then has been a little better, but the darkness isn't necessarily something you can get used to. Some people that have lived here their whole lives have a lot of trouble dealing with the darkness. The key seems to be staying active and getting out to enjoy the precious daylight hours, no matter what the temperature. Without much snow that can be difficult; this winter has gotten off to a slow start, but we finally have enough snow for cross-country skiing. I ski to school most of the winter, which takes about 35-40 mins each way. It's a long trip, but I think I'm happier for it. Besides, where else in the world can you ski to work?

First gig

Last weekend I played in my first "gig" with the Fairbanks Steel Drum Band. I'm not sure gig is the correct term, since we played at an elementary school for their family night. But on the other hand, you can't be too picky about your gigs in Fairbanks - there just aren't many opportunities. The concert was fun; I only played two songs: "Jammin' " and "Yu safe". The rest of the time I just watched or helped with the limbo stick. Those kids are crazy about limbo! After the show I had to "fight" with two of them to get the limbo stick so we could pack up and head home.

It was a somewhat humbling experience - some of the drummers are really good, and they played much faster than I was expecting. Something to work towards, I suppose. The sound of the steel drum is a little too shrill for my liking, but its fun to play. I'll probably continue playing with the band, but maybe focus more on hand drumming.

Whale music

Winter has arrived (it was -20F at the cabin this morning), so maybe it's about time to stop thinking about summer and accept the fact that winter is here to stay. But before moving on, here's one last anectdote from summer.

During a field project in August, Inari, myself, and a professor from Juneau traveled around Southeast Alaska by boat to try to quantify rates of post-glacial rebound. (Uplift rates in Glacier Bay National Park are some of the highest in the world.) One day while traveling through Frederick Sound, we came across a pod of humpback whales, who spend winters in Hawai'i and summers in Alaska. The largest populations are found in Frederick Sound.


The whales surprised us at first - we nearly hit a couple of them while going 30 mph. Once we realized how many whales were around we decided to kill the engine and enjoy the moment. We must have been surrounded by 30 whales, each surfacing and "singing". One even jumped completely out of the water. (That's a 45 ton cannonball!) We got the feeling they were enjoying the wonderful weather even more than we were. Every being was happy, except for Tracy the dog, who was perturbed by the incredibly deep vibrations produced by the whales.

God's country

Okay, so it's not usually sunny in Juneau, but you wouldn't know that from these photos and those from my last entry. In August Inari and I traveled to Juneau for vacation and field work. Southeast was hit with record rainfall the week before we arrived, but by the time we got there a heat wave was passing through. We did a great hike on a trail that literally starts in downtown Juneau and quickly climbs 3000 ft, giving us a different perspective on Juneau and the cruise ships. The hike took us a better part of one day.


On the way up you pass into alpine tundra (treeline is at only 2500' or so, compared to 10000' in Colorado) and then follow a ridge back towards the Juneau icefields.


I find it amazing that such beautiful places are largely unknown to most of the world; this place is more beautiful than some national parks in the lower 48. The trail is within the Tongass National Forest, which means its sort of protected. There are signs, though, forbidding you from contaminating the streams because the city of Juneau depends on them for fresh water.