alaska

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Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean. -John Muir

School is out. It was bittersweet to see it end this year as both the boys had such a great year. But thank heavens we can wind down a bit now. And summer is officially here, weather and all.  It has been so incredibly gorgeous out. The end of school also meant our second annual moms and boys island camping trip. It was hectic and crazy getting out of here on the same day that school ended, but very well worth it. Our plan was to stay through Sunday, but the sun and the peace were too hard to give up so we called in our families and had them join us for one more night of camp. I think had there been a warm shower and more food out there (we were down to hot dogs for every meal), nobody would have wanted to come home.

The escape getting out in nature always gifts me such peace of mind, but to couple it with the wonders that happened to coincide with our weekend away… wow.  Absolute magical synchronicity. Perfect sunny warmth (a few sprinkles but nothing saturating), enormous orange full moon, extreme low tide, middle of the night paddle in the phosphorescence, neighboring whales the entire time, sea lions, icy sea dips, gourmet camp food, beach naps, sun burns… to name a few

I’m blessed to have good friends here, ladies who are strong and happy and adventurous. I love that not only my sons, but that their boy community is influenced by these female role models. It’s especially comforting in this transition from being little guys into the cusp of adolescence. They will grow up with examples of capable women right before them, women who strive for good and learn from their mistakes. Their sons are all testaments to who they are–such great kids.

 

 

Just kidding, it’s May 1!  And our yard looks like this:

…I’m trying… to be positive. It’s awesome to me that the kids just don’t care.  Lola woke up, looked out the window and said, “when can we go sledding?!” Would that I could be that stoked about snow falling since October.

I have been able to get some things done inside, at least.  I painted the family room last week.  It used to be a rather awful peachy color. It is now a cool, blueish white.  Or maybe baby blue, depending on the lighting.  I love it in the mornings but the evening light just makes it look like a nursery gone wrong.  Truth is that it is the same exactly color as our Texas living room. I’m progressive like that. It’s still a work in progress, but here’s where I’m at:

Last Thursday, I went to see author Lynn Schooler and photographer Mark Kelley speak at the university.  They talked of the Outer Coast of Alaska, particularly the area around Lituya Bay that was hit with the biggest tsunami ever recorded. It was incredibly fascinating. Lynn read passages from his book Walking Home, set to a slideshow of Mark’s photos from a long hike he took with his family along the “Lost Coast”.  Lynn said something like Juneau people get “fjord fever”, or a feeling that we are contained here, that there’s no open expanse.  Such a feeling I can relate to.  Almost claustrophobia, especially when the grey clouds meet the towering mountains and we are literally socked in.  That feeling can hit so suddenly, so violently.  And can just as easily float away, when you stumble on a moment that makes you remember why you adore this place.  I love the understanding we Alaskans have for our collective sense of being. It’s so nice to read about experiences so relatable, and see incredibly artistic photos to remind us of the beauty of our planet (and I’m lucky enough to live here!).

Some things that are making me smile today:

  • Jonah’s art was chosen for display at the state capitol this month.  He made a paper mask called “The Wood Carver” (you can see it here). We can’t wait to get downtown to see it! He’s always drawing or painting, so you can imagine he is pretty proud of himself.
  • I have a girl crush on Lana Del Rey.  She seems a little snooty, but I am digging on her music these days.  Lola is, too. Which may be bringing out the drama in both of us lately.
  • There’s this song I’ve heard a few times lately. My parents used to (still do actually) sing it to me, so much that my family calls me Guinnevere. Every time I hear it, it’s like a big fat hug. My dad often sends his kids “Take 5″ emails, with a list of crazy music videos for us to watch.  My favorites from the last few months have been this totally creepy one by The Bee Gees.  Then there’s this nutty Adam Ant video, with the rad yellow shoes (I’m sensing a flash mob on the horizon, perhaps at a certain wedding coming up?!).
  • We leave one month from today for sunny California skies.  Flying into San Diego and taking a road trip up the coast to San Francisco.  The big draw is my little sister’s wedding in Malibu, but we have three glorious weeks to linger in the sun and play at the beach. Any recommendations for great stops along Hwy 1?

I really think I could sit here drinking coffee and babbling all day. I know I could… but I’ll spare you the chatter. Happy May Day!

 

gold ridge

Poor Micah is home today with a very awful stomach thing. We had a pretty eventful evening when he suddenly threw up (all over me) and then (seriously) about 30 more times throughout the night.  Poor guy.  Today will be a restful day inside with some chicken soup simmering. Just as well as the wind is tearing through the treetops and the rain continues to beat out the snow.

I think the winter is finally messing with my body and I am just really ready for spring… and I know it’s too early to be feeling this way.  We could still have another five months of this. So… thinking about happy things!  Like this date hike Brian and I took on Gold Ridge last July, just the two of us. We had a few hours’ window in the evening so we took the Mount Robert’s Tram up to shave a few miles off the trek.  We had the best time and it was an incredibly beautiful night (night!). Oh to feel that warm sun again.

I have serious vertigo being up this high. The cliff on the right side of the photo goes straight down to the basin… Not my favorite part of the hike, but exhilarating once it’s over. 

One of the many marmots we saw (and heard). They’re talkative little fellows.

Snow in July… funny now that it seemed like such a novelty then!

Looking back toward the Juneau Ice Fields.

 I have to give Brian major props… he just had a huge career accomplishment after working incredibly hard for years. He makes a girl proud.
I knew 2012 was going to be a good year.

old hats

Just Old Hat(s): Headgear in Alaska History, the show that I worked on at the Alaska State Museum, had its big opening on Friday. The pieces range from native headdresses to fur trader caps to Russian tri-corner hats, among dozens and dozens of others, all representing the huge diversity of people who have impacted the Great North.

This army officer’s cap was on display with a telegraph notifying the family of his death at war. So very touching.

It occurred to me in the process of working on this show that hats are extremely personal objects, and throughout time have defined the individual perhaps more than any other clothing article. To imagine the characters these hats once adorned gives a real feeling of connectedness to our past and a very interesting glimpse into the plight of the individual as well as their ties to the greater society.  It’s also very obvious that Alaska really is full of maverick personalities. The allure of adventure, fame and fortune brought so many eccentrics up north!

The kids thought the hat-making corner was the greatest.

If you are interested in reading about my experience interning at the Alaska State Museum, you can read the article I wrote for the Bulletin. I can’t say enough how much I enjoyed working on this project… and it is by far the most fun thing I’ve ever done in the name of my education.

The show will be up throughout the summer season and I hope you go see it!  In fact, this Saturday, May 14, is Juneau Museum Day and the State Museum will have free admission, as well as the opening of the second big summer show on the first years of Alaskan photography (which I’m dying to see!).

The aurora borealis had a brilliant show across the north this week. We were fortunate in Juneau to have a rare clear and dark sky at the peak of the solar activity. It was the most spectacular display of northern lights I have ever seen.  The sky was pulsing and twirling with pinks, purples, reds and the most luminescent green. Mesmerizing. And quite obviously a spiritual experience. It is no wonder that people long ago took the lights as omens or visits from ancestors long gone. There is just something eerily magical to be standing under a sky braided with light, breathing in the crisp, cold air of the far north.

This was really my first venture into time lapse night photography.  I’m not really sure why I couldn’t capture the other colors of the lights, but I’m wondering if it’s because my exposure length was too long?  Any hints would be appreciated.

Here’s the summer view from close to where I was watching the lights, on the frozen Mendenhall Lake. Northern lights or not… I will never tire of this magnificent view. There is always something magical for the eyes and soul.

Some of my March favs from the Aurora (Borealis and Australis) group on flickr.
The Aurora VolcanoCaroline, 3/9/11 – Auroral Speed Zone….C-FIFJAuroraVasatokkanorthern lightsDagvarðaráAurora Borealis, Laxá í Kjós – west Iceland

They danced a cotillion in the sky… why Robert Service, of course. From the Ballad of the Northern Lights.

Saturday, Mendenhall Lake

…a shuddery breath like the coming of Death crept down from the peaks far away;
The water was still; the twilight was chill; the sky was a tatter of gray.
Swift came the Big Cold, and opal and gold the lights of the witches arose;
The frost-tyrant clinched, and the valley was cinched by the stark and cadaverous snows.
The trees were like lace where the star-beams could chase, each leaf was a jewel agleam.
The soft white hush lapped the Northland and wrapped us round in a crystalline dream;
So still I could hear quite loud in my ear the swish of the pinions of time;
So bright I could see, as plain as could be, the wings of God’s angels ashine.

- Robert Service, from The Ballad of Pious Pete

Monday, Mendenhall Lake

And the sun makes the February blues much more beautiful.

(now if only it would stay sunny until spring)

I’m suffering from an incredibly annoying and terrible head cold, so bear with me as I go off on yet more geeky history stuff. I’ve been stuck in the house for days, which seem like weeks at this point. Today at least the snow is falling peacefully outside. I forgot how beautiful snow is. It would be a great time to revisit learning how to knit, but instead I am trying to snap out of my haze and focus on a final project for school. You see, I’m taking a class on Museums and Archives and it’s got me digging into the vault over local history. Much fun for my nerdy side, but not so great while sick and tending to the normal day-to-day, plus all of the holiday craziness.

We recently took a walk over on Douglas Island on the historic Treadwell Mine Trail. At one time, this was the largest gold mine in the world. There’s over 100 years of history living in these woods. We used to live near the old mine and I always found this area to be overwhelmingly haunting. Thoughts of miners who sat on familiar beach rocks, dreaming of families they might have left behind to follow the Gold Rush. I get a chill when I’m there. Regardless, there are fascinating relics to explore: some obvious structure skeletons, other small treasures buried in the sand or overgrown by the forest. It’s really quite amazing at how much stuff has managed to survive out there in the brutal Alaskan weather for so long.

The old Treadwell Mine office building (here’s what it used to look like)

The trail runs for miles, but this particular area is in the woods right behind “Sandy” Beach. The sand is made from mine tailings and it’s full of beautiful blue clay that makes the old potter in me want to get out my shovel.

The beach is littered with pottery shards, bricks and rusty meal objects. This trip, I even found an old leather shoe heal. I never take anything home; it just doesn’t seem right after it’s been there for so long.

Ok, I’m done with my historical ramblings. Thanks for the patience!

I have lots of ideas for Christmas goodies that I want to get started on. We typically get our tree the weekend after Thanksgiving–which is THIS weekend! Totally crept up on me. Time to deck the halls! But first, I must get well and get cooking for our Thanksgiving feast. When I was in kindergarten, I was quoted in the local paper saying, “I love Thanksgiving because I love turkey!” and not much has changed.

Wishing you all a very happy Thanksgiving.

fliptown

On my latest visit to the City Museum, I learned that one of Juneau’s former names was Fliptown. I wonder why… I bet there’s a story in there somewhere.

Whenever I venture downtown, one of my kids always falls asleep in the car and I am left to drive around aimlessly. I usually grab an Americano and just wander.

I stumbled across a few of our modern city’s founding father’s graves. I don’t know much about Joe Juneau other than his uncle founded Milwaukee… which I’m assuming is why there’s also a Juneau, Wisconsin. Must have been an adventurous family.

This new mural is across the street from my old office downtown, and right where I recently saw Paula Deen standing and smoking a cigarette. Brian told her that there wasn’t enough butter in this town for her and she replied that she preferred salmon pâté anyway. Who knew?

This is Basin Road. The speed limit is only 5 mph but the rotting wooden planks kind of make me want to drive really fast while closing my eyes, hoping I make it across in my big SUV.

I want to live on this street if hula hooping is the issue.

Have a fun weekend!  Hope there’s some exploring in there somewhere.

My girl and I explored the West Glacier beach at Mendenhall Lake yesterday. There are so many brilliant blue icebergs on the lake right now. I actually really love to experience the glacier area when it is dark and stormy out because the ice really pops in the ominous lighting. It’s really quite spectacular and makes for a striking scene with all the contrast. And check out all the snow creeping down the mountains! It’s quickly moving from autumn to winter. Can’t you feel the chill in these pictures?

Snow-Capped Bullard Mountain Reflection

The Medenhall Glacier is fed by the Juneau Icefield (which also feeds some of the other glaciers you’ve seen here, like Herbert Glacier). You can think of the glaciers like frozen rivers, always slowly flowing and moving down between the mountains. Sadly, most of the glaciers from the icefield are retreating faster than they are advancing, due to global warming, and soon they will disappear from view. We have photos taken of this glacier from when we moved here originally in 1997 and it looks completely and frighteningly different. These small lake icebergs are formed when the glacier calves and pushes ice out in to the lake. I feel like I wrote about this before… but I can’t remember so forgive me if I’m being redundant :)

Natural Ice Sculpture (do you see the bird taking off in flight?)

The reflections in the lake were amazing. The grey sky is really beautiful in it’s own right. I mean, who wants blue sky all the time? It would make my moods so predictable.

Bird asked me to wade in the water with my big rubber boots to pull some ice to shore for us to see. They are so crystal clear and come in the most beautiful, organic forms.

Ice and glacial silt clouds in the water. Silt is apparently really good for mud baths (see below!).

At the end of our icy adventure, we came upon this bald eagle. He was such a ham for the camera–too bad I had on my 50mm lens, because he was so close to us! He was also so extremely covered in mud… a real dirty bird. I am guessing he must have been bathing in the mineral-rich mud around the lake.

He was super chatty, which kind of unnerved me. I got the sense he was sending out some kind of warning. Then he startled and took off. It made me feel like we were being watched by a big scary bear or wolf, a feeling I don’t often get… time to leave!

Bird and I had lots of fun. The sun is making a rare appearance here today. Time to get back outside! Until next time!

cheechako (c̸hē c̸häkō, -c̸hakō) noun pl. cheechakos -·kos
in N Canada (esp. the Yukon) and Alaska, a newcomer; tenderfoot

Yesterday was Alaska Day. It’s nice to have holidays specifically associated with your region, isn’t it? It gave me a kind of sense of solidarity with my fellow Alaskans, and of course even more of a reason to look out at this incredible landscape and celebrate it’s beauty. We also used it as an opportunity to learn more about our state… and I use any holiday as an excuse to cook good food, of course.

I remember learning a little about the Alaska Purchase in grade school (in Arizona), and of course it was all about “Seward’s Folly” and ultimately the gold rush that justified then Secretary of State William Seward’s purchase. I imagine Seward would have peed in his pants when they struck gold! Did you know that, in an attempt to overthrow the Union, Seward was also nearly murdered on the night of Lincoln’s assassination? To think if he would have died, the implications it might have had for America in many areas from oil, timber, mining, jobs… etc (I took out my snotty Sarah Palin remark… as much as I’d like to go off, I don’t want to use this space for political rants). We have a holiday just for him now: Seward’s Day in March, signifying the signing of the Alaska Purchase Treaty.

I have to admit, I never really thought of Alaska Day as having any significance other than a day off work. As it turns out, October 18, 1867, was the day that the Territory of Alaska was officially handed over to the United States from Russia. Russia sold Alaska only because they feared a hostile British takeover of the territory with no monetary gain. It was sold for about seven million US dollars before that could happen. What a steal. So we celebrate Alaska Day to mark the patriotic occasion of the US flag being flown over Fort Sitka, the former Alaska capital city.

Alaska didn’t become the 49th official state of the Union until 1959. Its flag was designed by a middle school student who won a contest. I love that our state is so grassroots!

Ok, I am done getting all geeky on you! I might get a little carried away about things from time to time. (But I do have to also add a political note here: I’m voting YES on Bonding Prop B in November! I think building the new Alaska State Library, Museum and Archives center will help keep the capital in Juneau! Not to mention, the idea is totally awesome and completely necessary for preserving our state archives and culture. If you want to know more, check out the project’s blog.)

To celebrate Alaska Day in our house, I thought about making sourdough pancakes but my starter was seriously ignored (oops), so we made the pumpkin pancakes from Good to the Grain. These pancakes are made with kamut flour, which is my new favorite baking friend. So yum. We also had Brian’s delicious smoked salmon, drank orange juice in fancy glasses and talked about what we love about Alaska. I think the top mentionables were fishing and hiking (big surprise) but also we discussed how our Great Outdoors gives us such a sense of peace. Even the worst, most chaotic days can find redemption on a beach outing or a walk in the woods.

Happy belated Alaska Day! I leave you with my favorite poem by the North Country’s beloved sourdough/banker, Robert Service. I read this often during our five year absence from Alaska, when I wanted to cry about being away from home.

l’Envoi (from Ballads of a Cheechako, 1909)

We talked of yesteryears, of trails and treasure,
Of men who played the game and lost or won;
Of mad stampedes, of toil beyond all measure,
Of camp-fire comfort when the day was done.
We talked of sullen nights by moon-dogs haunted,
Of bird and beast and tree, of rod and gun;
Of boat and tent, of hunting-trip enchanted
Beneath the wonder of the midnight sun;
Of bloody-footed dogs that gnawed the traces,
Of prisoned seas, wind-lashed and winter-locked;
The ice-gray dawn was pale upon our faces,
Yet still we filled the cup and still we talked.

The city street was dimmed. We saw the glitter
Of moon-picked brilliants on the virgin snow,
And down the drifted canyon heard the bitter,
Relentless slogan of the winds of woe.
The city was forgot, and, parka-skirted,
We trod that leagueless land that once we knew;
We saw stream past, down valleys glacier-girted,
The wolf-worn legions of the caribou.
We smoked our pipes, o’er scenes of triumph dwelling;
Of deeds of daring, dire defeats, we talked;
And other tales that lost not in the telling,
Ere to our beds uncertainly we walked.

And so, dear friends, in gentler valleys roaming,
Perhaps, when on my printed page you look,
Your fancies by the firelight may go homing
To that lone land that haply you forsook.
And if perchance you hear the silence calling,
The frozen music of star-yearning heights,
Or, dreaming, see the seines of silver trawling
Across the sky’s abyss on vasty nights,
You may recall that sweep of savage splendor,
That land that measures each man at his worth,
And feel in memory, half fierce, half tender,
The brotherhood of men that know the North.


For a whole bunch of great Alaska photos, check out the Alaska! pool on flickr.

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