Driving With my Dog to Alaska: Yukon

Donald F. Smith, Cornell University

Posted September 4, 2012

Five years ago my dog, Beau, and I drove from our home in upstate New York to Alaska and back. The first eight installments can be found by clicking the "Traveling with Beau" link on the upper right-hand corner of the Home Page. In the last blog, Beau and I traveled through the province of British Columbia. We are soon to enter the Yukon.

This would be our longest day and we started it at 4:30 when we went for our morning walk in the dark. Dark, that is, except for the zillion stars that fenestrated the inky sky. Beau ate nothing and neither did I. Excitement, perhaps.

Beau's mood improved as we pulled into the Fort Nelson gas station alongside a huge tractor trailer with 'Lydan' written on its side. Driver Jon-without-an-h, a big man with a gregarious smile for such an early start, told me what to expect on this most challenging portion of the Alaska Highway, then we both went inside for coffee. We were the first customers of the day so the coffee was free; in reality, the women knew Jon, and I was in his shadow. 

As I watched Jon ascend the steep stairs and center his gravity in the massive cockpit, he turned back to me, “Just stay alert for animals, some days you see none and other days, you roll around a corner going too fast, and find a bull moose standing in the middle of the road staring at you. And be careful in the mountains. They are treacherous if you take the corners too quickly, especially Suicide Hill." Then he delivered a final memorable admonition, "Don't drive like dumb-shit, and maybe I’ll see you two at the hot springs for breakfast.”

So off we went, headlights focused on the big rig ahead of us.  That worked well for the first 60 km, until we entered the mountains and Jon pulled off at a truck turnout to test his brakes.  We were on our own now, peering into the black morning as the caution signs for moose and other animals reminded us that we were not alone.

At our second pit stop of the morning, the stillness of the mountain air was sharply punctuated by a blast of a truck horn as a massive beast roared by. I was about to grumble about the evil monster when I caught the hearty wave and bright smile of Jon as he leap-frogged us. I wanted to jump in the jeep and race after him, but we both knew we would be foolish to move at his speed.  He would have to have breakfast without us. Sadly, we never saw Jon again, but whenever we saw a Lydan truck, or witnessed a driver doing “dumb shit”, I thought of our friend.

We had been traveling alone in the mountains for over an hour with the sun now shining brightly when I spotted two caribou walking down the road towards us. Beau saw them, too, and he sat up straight and peered intently through the windshield. I’m not sure which of us was more excited as Beau started to whine and jiggle all over, and I pulled over onto the shoulder and grabbed the camera. 

Bull caribou and yearling beside the Alaska Highway

We spent the next 20 minutes watching a bull and a yearling graze beside the road, periodically returning to the road to advance a few yards, then ambling into the brush once again.  I would like to have stayed with the gangly pair all day, but we were almost 800 km from Whitehorse, so we moved back onto the road and began to accelerate. Almost on cue, the mature caribou strolled out into the road just in front of us and proceeded to walk right down its center, not more than 10 feet from our bumper.  For the next 10 minutes, we inched forward as the bull moved to the side of the road, only to cross back into our path. Time and time again, his game continued–-at least, it seemed to me like his little game--then we finally crested a hill and they dashed into the brush and were gone. Regardless what happened for the rest of the trip to Whitehorse, we had seen and photographed our first big animals.

The scenery along the road was breathtaking. We were traveling through the rugged Canadian Rockies, with large mountains and fast-moving rivers racing along the road beside us. 

The Alaska Highway (arcing along the left side of the photo),
followed the course that the river had cut  between the mountains.

On that quiet morning, the reflection in the water was as clear
as the view above the surface.

Periodically we would come to a large lake, with vistas reflecting scenery below the surface as stunning as those above.

Stone sheep ram high on a ridge 
overlooking the Alaska Highway. 

For the most part, the road was in good condition. However, pot holes and deep trenches carved by shifting winter ice caught us unawares too often and we tempered our speed accordingly. We were also on the constant lookout for animals, and our slower-than-average speed made it difficult for the locals who barreled through in their large double-wheeled trucks, or the RV drivers who were more interested in getting to their park for the night than savoring the views.       

Suicide Hill was impressive with its tight curves and precipitous descent. On its shoulder stood two sets of  floral wreaths bearing testament to those who had been unable to control their vehicle on an icey morning. One of the wreaths contained in its circle the picture of a double-long rig that apparently went over the edge carrying a good-looking young man who was pictured beside his truck on a happier day. 

By midmorning, we had seen over 20 Stone sheep: ewes with sharp points on the horns and flat-headed calves still waiting for the first buds to appear. Males with ruggedly-built curved horns stood watch beside the road or perched in the rocky ledges high above.                                                                

Stone sheep ewe and lamb in the Rockies

We arrived at the Liard River Hot Springs about noon. Jon was nowhere to be found though other truckers had taken his place. Because the hot springs were popular with tourists, everyone seemed relaxed and in a jovial mood. Some were warmer than others, but I had a good excuse to decline the invitation to take a dip in the hot springs with an overly-friendly Minnesota woman because dogs were not allowed in the pool area. Instead, I gathered a hearty feast of chicken and vegetables from the convenience store and Beau and I had a lazy lunch and a well-deserved nap.

A large bison herd is frequently sighted near the Liard Hot Springs and Beau and I were not disappointed. Part of the herd was grazing on a hillside far from the road, but several of the cows and calves, and two massive bulls, were near the highway. Though they appeared to be resting comfortably, they were not chewing their cuds as I would have expected and when a boisterous tourist party got too close, they jumped up and disappeared into the bush. 

Wood Bison near Liard Hot Springs Provincial Park.

After crossing and recrossing the British Columbia-Yukon border, we were finally beyond the midpoint of our day's journey. Eight miles from Watson Lake we stopped at Sign Post Forest. Locals call it "the world's largest collection of stolen property" as there are signs from hometowns around the world. The first sign was placed in 1942 by a homesick U.S. Army G.I. who was one of the thousands of Americans sent north to build the Alaska Highway. He erected a sign pointing towards his hometown of Danville, Illinois. Watson Lake now maintains the site which allegedly contains over 10,000 signs. One could spend a full afternoon walking among the rows and rows of names and observing the clever ways tourists have celebrated their favorite places.  

Sign Post Forest near Watson Lake dates to 1942 and contains the world's 
"largest collection of stolen property".

It was a blazing hot afternoon and I could not leave Beau in the jeep to watch the historical movie at the adjacent Information Center. It tells the story of how the highway had been built by the American military in response to concerns of a Japanese land invasion following Pearl Harbor. Sensing my disappointment, the overtly friendly staff invited Beau as a VIP guest and we watched the movie together, then gathered outside for pictures and cold water.

Situated almost equidistant between
New York City and Tokyo, Japan,
Sign Post Forest lies a few miles from Watson Lake in the Yukon.

It was late in the afternoon when we finally said goodbye to our friends in Watson Lake, promising to visit them on our return trip. The Rocky mountains and the day's large animals behind us, we hurried on the last 440 km towards Whitehorse. 

The entrance to Teslin Bridge, approximately two hours
from Whitehorse, Yukon.

Stopping at the Teslin River crossing for dinner, we had a relaxing visit with a couple from Montana whom we had met at a rest stop earlier in the day. Driving the Alaska Highway can be like that: long stretches of nothing and no one, then you can be surprised by the joy of seeing a person you met earlier and it is as if you are reunited with a close friend. A friendly, helpful close friend. 

Dr. Smith invites comments at dfs6@cornell.edu

Water For Elephants Trumpets Cornell

Posted by Donald F. Smith, Cornell University

April 26, 2011

A half century ago, Norman Rockwell painted an image of a young veterinarian examining a little boy’s dog. Partly obscured in the background is a Cornell University diploma. The year, 1963, was the centennial of the American Veterinary Medical Association. On the threshold of the AVMA’s 150^th anniversary, another veterinary image has emerged in American pop culture and, once again, Cornell University is featured.



Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine
Photo provided by Cornell.

 The movie, Water for Elephants, depicts a 1931 Cornell veterinary student who runs away during his final exams because of a family tragedy. Jacob Jankowski hops a circus train and claims to be a veterinarian. His prime charge was an Asian elephant named Rosie.

The movie follows Sara Gruen’s novel by the same title, including about 20 direct references to Cornell University and the Ivy League. For Cornellians everywhere―and especially for the 4,000 DVMs scattered across the country and around the world―there is great pride in seeing our college depicted on the big screen.

But how accurate is that depiction?  The following questions should test your knowledge of veterinary medicine at Cornell during the Depression. (Answers follow)

1.   Jacob Jankowski was forced to leave Cornell because his father (also a veterinarian) had mortgaged the family business to pay for his son’s tuition. How much was tuition during the Depression?

2.   How many women were in Jacob’s class? The movie highlights one who sits next to Jacob during his final examination, and appears to depict at least one other. In the novel, author Sara Gruen says there were four.

3.   A picture was seen for a fleeting second on the wall of the examination room when Jacob was leaving the room to learn of his parents’ death?  Was it the portrait of university founder Ezra Cornell or President Herbert Hoover?

4.   Did it take six years to become a veterinarian?

5.   Is the movie correct in describing the veterinary degree as Doctor of Veterinary Science?

6.   When did Cornell become part of the Ivy League?

7.   Would Jacob have lived with his parents while attending college?

Answers:

1.   Because of the land grant agreement, there was no tuition for New York State students until the 1960s. This challenges the movie’s central premise that the Jankowski family lost everything because of tuition payments?

2.   Though Cornell’s first woman veterinarian graduated in 1910, most classes in the next 30 years -- including Jacob's class -- had none. The Class of 1940 was the first to have four women.

3.   Though not an exact depiction, it appears to be an image of the veterinary college’s first professor and dean (principal), James Law.

4.   It did not: four years after high school was the prescribed length at that time. The youngest member of the Class of 1931 was the recently deceased Dr. Lawrence Waitz. He entered Cornell at age 16 and graduated at 20.

5.   Except for the period before 1896 when the degree was Bachelor of Veterinary Science (in the British tradition), the Cornell veterinary degree has always been Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.

6.   The Ivy League was not established until 1954.

7.   Almost certainly not. Most students were poor, living in modest single rooms near campus.

Enjoy the movie!

Dr. Smith welcomes comments at dfs6@cornell.edu

Water for Elephants is Not Enough: The Disease that is Killing Baby Elephants

Posted by Donald F. Smith, Cornell University
April 25, 2011

Like millions of other movie-goers, I watched Water For Elephants on opening weekend. As remarkable as the story and the acting by Reese Witherspoon, Robert Pattinson, Christoph Waltz and supporting cast was, it was elephant Rosie’s performance that was totally captivating. Her grace and elegance, her ability to collapse, expand and trumpet that 9,000-pound frame was nothing short of breath taking.

Foreground: Tai, who stars as Rosie in "Water for Elephants", and her nephew, JP, who succumbed to a devastating Herpes viral infection in February, 2011. Please consider donating to the research efforts to stomp out this killer. Photo provided by Kari and Gary Johnson, Have Trunk Will Travel.

As Rosie’s veterinarian, Dr. Linda Peddie told me when I interviewed her in February, “Tai (who plays Rosie) is the best-trained and most mature elephant in the world.”

Some people watching the movie were horrified by the images of animal cruelty depicted towards Rosie. However, Gary and Kari Johnson, the husband-and-wife owners and trainers of Tai, were absolutely adamant that nothing harm her, either physically or emotionally. For example, during the depiction of Waltz’s most severe beating of Rosie, the handlers gently moved Tai out of harm’s way. Again Dr. Peddie, “Because Tai has never known mistreatment, she does not view the flailing rampage as anything more than some imbecile beating the air."

Even though there is superb care, veterinary attention, and humane treatment of Tai and the other five elephants at the Johnsons' ranch Have Trunk Will Travel, they have been affected by a devastating and unseen virus that kills elephants worldwide. It is a relatively new viral disease called Elephant Endotheliotropic Herpes Virus (EEHV), and it affects baby elephants in both captivity and in the wild with devastating results. Tai’s “nephew”, a 3½ year-old baby named JP―named in honor of veterinarian Dr. Jim Peddie―died in February, 2011. As is typical of babies with EEHV, the uncontrollable hemorrhaging disease killed JP in less than 48 hours.

JP’s death represented another tragic loss in the elephant world, not only because of the personal anguish at the Have Trunk Will Travel Ranch, but also because it highlights the sad reality that there is as yet neither a cure, nor a vaccine, for this deadly virus.

Research to prevent, manage and treat EEVH is being led by a consortium of veterinarians and biomedical researchers at the following institutions:

·         Smithsonian’s National Zoo

·         Baylor College of Medicine

·         Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine

·         Johns Hopkins University

Please consider Donating!

To support research to stomp out the disease that is responsible for the deaths of about 25% of the baby elephants born in the United States in the last three decades, please donate to:

The International Elephant Foundation (IEF), a 501 C (3) non-profit organization. http://www.elephantconservation.org/elephant-endotheliotropic-herpes-virus/.  

Letters of Recommendation for Veterinary Students

By Donald F. Smith, Cornell University

Posted April 19th, 2011.

This blog addresses recommendation letters, both for students preparing their applications for veterinary college, and for current veterinary students applying for jobs and internships.

Selecting the right people to write your reference letters is the most important decision. The people you ask to write letters should:

• Know you and your work. Avoid having a well-known person (eg. legislator, dean) write your letter unless they know you and your accomplishments well.
• Be well-known in the professional community. A good rule of thumb is to ask the most prominent and respected people who also know you well.
• Not be too familiar personally. You should usually avoid letters from family members, neighbors and clergy unless specifically requested.
• Be responsive, reliable, and prompt in writing the reference letter.
• Provide an articulate and concisely-written reference, avoiding hyperbole or exaggeration.
• Make your letter unique to you, your circumstances, and the college or position for which you are applying. I acknowledge that the electronic veterinary college application service (VMCAS) makes it difficult to specify individual colleges.

The reference letter should contain at least five parts, usually in the following order:

1. Description of how long the reviewer has known you, and under what circumstances.
2. If a working situation, the letter should describe your employment responsibilities, and how the work has progressed as you have gained experience and competence.
3. Description of your attributes, including both technical and personal qualities in specific terms to your situation. Letters with platitudes and non-specific descriptions are unhelpful in distinguishing you from other candidates.
4. Narrative of your technical competence, personal and professional qualities, creativity, intellectual stimulation, and progress in your work or studies.
5. Comparison of your suitability for the position with other candidates previously evaluated.

You should determine ahead of time if your evaluator has concerns about recommending you. At an early stage in the process, meet with your prospective evaluator, describing the reason you are requesting a reference, and asking them if they feel comfortable providing a highly supportive letter. Because some reviewers may have a hard time acknowledging their concerns to you directly, you should frame your question in a manner that allows them to express lack of enthusiasm or other possible clues to their lack of full support.

After you decide to request a letter, provide him/her with your resume and a series of bullet points outlining those experiences and attributes that you feel might be helpful for your application. Remember that most reviewers will be writing letters for several applicants and any help you provide will likely be appreciated.

Except in the most unusual circumstances, waive your right to see the letter. Failure to waive your right of confidentiality may mean that the letter will not be taken seriously. It may not even be read!

Consider it your responsibility to ensure that the letter is actually written and gets to the evaluator on schedule.

If you are disappointed that you do not get the position you seek, feel free to follow up with both your evaluator and the institution/employer. To inquire specifically about the contents of a letter is unprofessional and may even imply a breach of ethical judgment. You can, however, ask both parties if there is anything you could do regarding your evaluations to improve your chances in a subsequent year.

Dr. Smith invites comments at dfs6@cornell.edu