Life in Alaska — A View From Homer

Winter Camping at 30 Below

2012-01-16T21:36:00.006-09:00

While Douglas was in Fairbanks handling the frigid interior, Denver was out camping with the Boy Scouts at Engineer Lake in the Kenai Wildlife Refuge Area near Skilak Lake. It was quite an adventure, so I decided to write about his adventure too.

Ten boys and six adults decided to brave the elements. Denver spent the snow day on Tuesday preparing and packing, with additional tweaks on Wednesday and the final call on Thursday. Friday the weather forecast was for -25, and Denver was a bit nervous.

Some people had gone ahead and packed a path over Engineer Lake with their snowmachines (the snow was 1 to 2 1/2 feet deep but hard packed) and started a fire in the cabin on the other side of the lake. After the kids hiked across the lake (Boy Scouts are not allowed to ride motorized vehicles) they set up their tents, had a powwow in the cabin and then headed to bed. Denver and another boy had one of our very old dome tents. One of the adult leaders told them to open the window and door in it. If they don't, the perspiration can coat the inside of the tent and create a dome of ice and be a suffocation hazard. They had the rain fly on and a tarp over that so there wasn't a lot of air movement despite the windows being open. Denver reported that in the morning the inside of the tent was covered with frost.

Next morning when the kids got up, it was -28 degrees. Denver was toasty warm in the tent all night with 3 pads, 3 sleeping bags and a liner. His tentmate was comfy with 2 sleeping bags, one very heavy one. Of the 10 kids, only one got cold and a couple got cool that night. All were in tents, while the adults were in the cabin. One of the adult leaders was ribbing Denver about having so much gear Friday night before they went to bed, but the next morning he took it back because he'd been cold IN the cabin that night, and Denver was toasty in his sleeping bags in the tent! By time breakfast was over the temperatures had dipped to -30 degrees. At first I thought this strange, but it is always coldest just before sunrise, and sunrise is still a bit after 10 (Denver said with the hills on both sides, it was actually after 11 till it rose).

Now the work began: building a quintzee. There was already a huge quintzee built at that site, but they'd gotten there so late that they didn't have a chance to check out its safety so they did not use it the first night. It would end up sleeping 5 kids that night. The building began with piling their totes and supplies in a big pile. Then they started piling snow over the supplies. When the pile was large enough, they poked foot-long sticks into the snow all over. The snow needs to be at least one foot thick for proper insulation so those would be their guides when they started digging out.

The kids left and ate lunch, leaving the snowpile to sit for 2 or 3 hours. This allows the snow to 'set' or harden. When they came back, they used a snow saw to cut a large block out of the wall of the pile. This would be be the exit for getting all the snow and supplies out of. They started the digging process, and as they came upon supplies they would shove them out the door. Having the supplies allowed them to have less snow that needed to be shoveled out. When the shelter was dug out to the one-foot markers, they took the handle of a snow shovel and poked about 20 airholes all over it. Then they put the snow block back in place and dug an entrance. The entrance is smaller than the hole used for digging out snow. Then they cut a snow slab to put over the entrance, and filled a trash bag with snow to plug the gaps around the slab. They would put this in place after they got in at night, with the help of someone outside.

Four boys were able to fit comfortably inside this quintzee that they built, and though it only dipped to 22 below that night, again, they were all toasty warm. It was about 6 feet across inside and 4 feet tall (I would have liked that better!!).

While the kids were building their quintzee, the Scoutmaster had built a tunnel shelter. There was a natural indentation and he cut snow blocks and put them over the tunnel, effectively making a one-person snow shelter. A scout built a debris shelter. He cut snow blocks and put them in a semicircle, covered it with branches, put a tarp over that and then weighted the tarp down with snow. He slept in that shelter by himself that night, and though it was not as warm, it was significantly less work than a quintzee.

When I asked Denver about his general impressions of the trip, the first thing he said was, "There was not much daylight." Even though it was sunny, the amount of time that the sun was up was probably 5 hours, with some dusk before and after. The quintzee building took pretty much the whole day, with a crew of kids working on it. The other thing he said is that the cabin was essential. They ate their meals in there so they were able to take off their gloves to cook and not freeze their fingers. They also all hung up their sleeping bags during the day to dry them off. And for one kid who did not have good winter gear with him, it kept him from hypothermia (otherwise, he would have been taken home because he did not have warm enough gear to survive). For all his nervousness before he went, Denver just shrugged about the cold. "It wasn't that bad." I'm just shaking my head, trying to imagine -30 degrees as "not that bad." These Boy Scouts! I'm in awe of them! Of the 10 kids on the trip, most of them were 6th or 7th graders, with a handful of high schoolers. Doing things like this really builds their confidence, and gives them experiences that few kids these days have. These boys earned their 100 below badge in one weekend: one degree counts for every degree below 32. It was 62 degrees below freezing the first night, and 54 degrees below freezing the second night.

As the mom at home, I was a bit nervous. Luckily, there was cell phone access at Engineer Lake so the parents back home were facebooking and calling, sharing information and we knew the kids were having a blast and staying warm. I have to chuckle, though, because within 5 minutes of arriving home after that trip, Denver was conked out, asleep over a magazine on the couch, and he slept for 3 hours! So even though he was fully geared up and didn't get cold, and he slept through the night both nights, the cold still sucks the energy out of you.

I have to admit, I really like having a 'survival expert' in my home! Denver is now inspired to get his wilderness survival merit badge--and I'll keep encouraging him!

Fairbanks at 45 Below

2012-01-16T18:15:00.003-09:00

The 15-member Homer High School hockey team was heading to Fairbanks for 4 days this past weekend, and since the basketball teams were already in Nome, there wasn't much choice for administrator coverage. Douglas got to go to Fairbanks, and he got to experience -45 degree weather--an experience he is not soon going to forget.

The journey began in Homer where it was snowing heavily and blowing Thursday morning. A late flight out of Homer resulted in missing the connecting flight from Anchorage to Fairbanks. The next flight was over 4 hours later, so Douglas had lots of time to kill in the airport, along with another chaperone for the team (the mom of the only female varsity player) who also missed the flight.

Upon reaching Fairbanks Douglas rushed through the car rental process in order to get to the game that he was supposed to be covering. However, renting a car is a little different there. They give you an extension cord with the rental, and they inform you that if you don't plug in your car, it will cost you $50 to have the car rental company come jump the car for you because it won't start (because it won't). And while nearly every Alaskan we know puts studs on their tires in the winter, the rental cars and vans did not have studded tires so the vehicles were slipping all over the place.

Douglas also discovered that if the hotel doesn't have plugs to plug in your car, you should go find another hotel because that is an essential part of the stay. People either leave their car running all the time or they plug it in. No other choices. And for the most part, places do have plug-ins. For example, the ice arena had plugs with extension cords splaying out in all directions from the parking lot lamp posts.

When things get that cold, certain things happen. For example, each school has a different policy at what temperature the teams cannot travel at. For example, Delta Junction (about 60 miles southeast of Fairbanks) cannot travel if it is colder than 30 below. Houston cannot travel if it is 40 below or colder. Saturday Homer was supposed to play Delta Junction at Delta's outdoor but covered ice arena. They thought it would be warm enough under the cover to play (they can play up to 15 below), but the temperatures were too cold for that. In fact, it was colder than 30 below so Delta Junction had to cancel. There was ice time available at an indoor rink, but it was too cold for the team to travel from their school to the ice arena 40 miles away.

The kids played one game on Thursday and one on Friday, and ended up buying some ice time on Saturday since their game got cancelled. The rest of the time they had to go somewhere and hang out. They were staying at a school so they had to be out of the school by 7:05 a.m. on Friday. That made for a long day of hanging out. Fred Meyers is a popular place to hang because it has food, so the kids would roam for hours. The team was given free tickets to watch the Ice Dogs, the semi-pro local hockey team, play. That stadium was very comfortable with 5000+ seats and warm, quiet seating (sounds like an oxymoron, I know) so that was a pleasant few hours. The kids also watched other high school teams play as 5 or more teams from all over the state were in Fairbanks to play hockey that weekend. All this free time is a prime reason why the school district requires administrator coverage at all out-of-town team travel.

The cold does a number of interesting things: it creates a permanent vapor fog that looks just like regular fog, but it is the result of the extreme cold. The other fun part of the cold is that when you take a cup of hot water and throw it in the air outside it vaporizes--poof! The hotter the water the better the effect. It just looks like talcum powder falling where there was just water moments before. The kids had great fun playing with water and cold air.

Douglas was talking to a firefighter in Fairbanks and he said they have to bundle up really well and then expect to be turned into giant icicles. And if the water flowing through the hoses slows it will freeze so it is very important that they keep the water going.

Finally, when it gets that cold the jets cannot take off or land. Only prop planes can go out. The runways get so slick that they have no traction for landing or taking off. When Douglas was there the Fairbanks airport was closed to jet landings and takeoffs.

It was a fascinating experience, and Douglas was glad to experience it....once. Once is enough. Wow. Our trip up that way at Christmas could have been veeeery different!

Snow Shelter Revisited

2012-01-09T11:34:00.005-09:00

After Denver stayed in his snow shelter New Year's weekend, I offered to stay in one with him if he built one in our yard. After we made him shovel off our front porch there was a huge pile of snow so he decided to start working on it. It was ready in time for a Saturday night outing.

We covered the door (as you can see in the picture here) and put a thermometer inside. It was 12 degrees outside and 25 inside (without us in there). We each had two pads (I used two thermarests; Denver a thermarest and a pad). I had 3 sleeping bags while Denver had 2 sleeping bags with a sleeping bag sheet. I wore my hat all night, but nothing on my face, while Denver wore his facemask and balaclava again.

When it was time to crawl in, I went first, scootching my pads in, then going back in the house for my sleeping bags. The shelter was COZY, to put it mildly. The entrance was just wide enough for my shoulders to fit through, and only high enough for me to wiggle in. Once inside, if I laid on my side my shoulder would brush the ceiling. So getting in was a challenge. I took off my boots outside, then wiggled my way into the sleeping bags and dislodged large amounts of snow from the roof as I got my jacket off. By time this was done my hands were frozen so I put my gloves back on to warm up. And I had a moment of panic. I'm not prone to claustrophobia, but there was just enough space for the two of us and there would be no getting out fast. I started saying a calming mantra, closed my eyes and calmed down in a few minutes.

Then Denver came out and did the wiggle in routine. Problem is, the blanket over the door fell off after he got in. I crawled out to put it back up and got completely covered with snow (I didn't have my jacket on!) and then had to wiggle back in, this time with Denver in there. I finally got back in there and all the snow on my shirt started melting so I felt damp, but despite that, I was warm, and my frozen hands had already warmed up. Within 20 minutes I was groggy and....ready to go to the bathroom! NO WAY! I willed myself to sleep.

I woke up a number of times during the night like I usually do when I'm camping. I would check on Denver, do a mental check of myself (ignore bladder!) and then fall back asleep. I was impressed with how comfortable I was. I would say I was more comfortable than I usually am when I am tent camping (could be the two pads!!). The air temperature was fine too. I normally sleep with a blanket over my face, but I was never uncomfortable with the temperature or worried about being too cold. It was an impressively nice experience.

At 6 a.m. I woke up and Denver was shifting around ready to get out. We were both due for a bathroom break--no more delays! That's about the time I usually get up, so I didn't think I'd be getting back to sleep so we headed into the house.

In some ways I think I would prefer a snow shelter to a tent in the winter. I think it would be warmer. On the other hand, it did occur to me that if there were an earthquake that it could be a bad thing. However, it was overall a neat experience, I am glad I did it, and now I think it would be fun to see how little equipment we could do it with--fewer pads and sleeping bags--and still be comfortable!

Snow Shelter

2012-01-04T11:27:00.005-09:00

Denver gets all sorts of bright ideas, some of which he follows up on, others that he does not. On New Year's Eve we were in Ninilchik at my aunt and uncle's ranch when Denver decided to build a snow shelter. He was out there piling up the snow and digging out a tunnel within minutes, focused on his new project. Next thing I know he's saying, "I want to sleep in it!" It was 0 degrees out when he said that, with the lows predicted to be -6 for New Year's night. No one there thought he would really do it, including me. Or if he did it, he certainly wasn't going to make it the whole night. In fact, a couple of his cousins said, "We want the second shift when you come in." Denver told them, "If you think I'm going to come in then you don't really know me!" I thought to myself, "I must not know him either!!"

Denver started preparations in earnest, asking me and my cousins for advice on staying warm. I recommended 3 sleeping bags. Denver built a giant plastic bag to put them all in so he (and his sleeping bags!) wouldn't get wet (he was thinking about how wet he got camping in December). He rounded up two foam backpacking-type sleeping pads, and wrapped his pillow in a trash bag also (which I convinced him to take off before he went to sleep, in the name of comfort). He decided to wear long underwear and sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his balaclava and foam facemask. An old sleeping bag would be fitted over the entrance to his snow shelter to keep out the cold.

Come midnight and the end of the fireworks display my cousin Todd put on, Denver prepared to sleep. I went out with him to get him settled in. He stowed his sleeping bags in the tunnel (1 bag inside another, the other on top and plastic trash bags around them all), ditched his boots and jacket and crawled in. He took off his headlamp, I secured the door with a little breathing hole and we said goodnight. It was 12:30 a.m.

At 1 a.m. Douglas checked on Denver, who was still awake and comfortable. At 2:30 a.m. I checked on him, feeling his face (warm) and checking for breath (breathing). At 5 a.m. I checked again: still good. At 8:45 a.m. Douglas checked on him. Denver was awake, warm and just hanging out in his shelter. At 10 a.m. Denver finally came in, thoughtful about his experience and obviously still digesting what he'd done.

My biggest concerns were that 1-he would get frostbit and not wake up to know it, 2-that he would suffocate if there wasn't enough air, or 3-that his facemask would get covered with frost and he would suffocate. It was hard to believe that he could actually be warm in -10 degree weather (Yep! I got to ten below zero that night!). He said he was actually on the too warm side, but he wouldn't have wanted fewer sleeping bags. He slept the entire night and in the morning he had to take off his facemask because he was too warm.

Denver reported he would make a few modifications next time: He would build a deeper tunnel. As it was, if the blanket over the entrance hadn't been there, his head would have been half in and half out of the shelter. He would want his entire head to be inside. He would also build an airhole in the top for additional airflow in case the blanket was put on too tightly. Finally, he would take a thermometer inside the shelter with him to see how warm it got in there. Supposedly it would be at least 32 degrees inside a snowcave as the snow provides excellent insulation. The Boy Scouts have a campout planned for next weekend so he will have an opportunity to try out the modifications. And I told Denver if he ever builds a snow shelter in our yard that I'll sleep in it with him. I want to try this too!!

Chena Hot Springs

2011-12-28T21:22:00.016-09:00

What sort of place would draw us all the way into the deep interior of Alaska in the middle of winter? Promises of seeing the aurora borealis headed the list. Soaking in natural hot springs in an outdoor pool sounded neat. Snowcat tours, snowmobiling, cross-country skiing, sled dog kennel tours and rides, geothermal energy tours, greenhouse tours and ice museum tours balanced out the attractions. We figured it could be educational, relaxing and an adventure of sorts--and it was all of those. Chena Hot Springs is a neat and unique place. First for the general overview, then for the activities that kept us busy during our 3 day stay.

Chena Hot Springs has two busy seasons: mid-summer and winter from Christmas through March. In peak season there are about 60 employees; off-season about 40. Many of the employees are interns from Japan who stay for either 6 months or 18 months. The Japanese are the biggest patrons of this place. During our visit (which was early peak season; it was about half full), about half of the people there were Japanese, though we shared the hot tub with a family from Italy and heard a spattering of other foreign languages while we were there. Employees can live on site in employee housing and get two hot meals a day. There is a restaurant for the public in a very old log cabin (I loved the atmosphere of the restaurant, and the food was good too--and not much pricier than Homer) and the Aurora Cafe that sells microwave food and snacks. There are 3 types of rooms: basic (old), the Moose Lodge (much nicer and newer) and family suites. We stayed in the basic, which were buildings with 8 rooms per building, 4 down, 4 up. It was dirty, which was our biggest complaint of the place. There were no phones in the rooms, and while there was a cell phone tower on the premises, it was only for Verizon and ACS, so our iPhones didn't work. Internet access was available only in the Activities Building and cost $10 a day and was very slow.

There are at least 18 buildings that I counted, not including the dozen plus yurts that are only open in the summer in the campground/RV area. That includes a year-round greenhouse, the ice museum, the geothermal power plant, the main lodge, the pool/spa, guest lodging, and employee cabins. There are about 12-13 miles of trails which are groomed for skiing or snowshoeing in the winter and are for hiking or biking in the summer. Ski, snowshoe and other winter gear rentals were available in the Activity Center. A 3500 foot airfield abutted the Activity Center, and the kids wanted to go on a flightseeing tour more than anything else, though daytimes it was cloudy and I'm not sure they do those tours in the winter. We stayed pleasantly busy with activities. Some things were pricier than we cared to pay, and it could easily be an expensive vacation if one partook in all the various tours. Here were the things that we enjoyed:

Aurora viewing: We'd planned to take a snowcat tour to the top of the ridge that surrounds Chena Hot Springs to view the aurora borealis, but it was cloudy both nights at 10 p.m. when the tour begins, and the kids did not relish having to stay up at the yurt till 2 a.m. which is when the tour continues till. However, we did sign up to have someone knock on our door if the aurora was spotted, and the second night we were there the clouds cleared up. I went out at 11 and it looked like it might be the aurora out there, so I went and got Douglas and Aurora (Denver told us to get him only if it was really good). We watched for a little bit, then went in. At midnight a knock on our door confirmed that the aurora was out, so we bundled up again (Denver was asleep by then) and went out. Just above the ridge to the north green lights were shimmering and dancing. Aurora saw it and went right back in, but Douglas and I stayed out and watched it for an hour with about 15 other people on edge of the airfield. It wasn't a great show, but we were satisfied. It has been nearly 20 years since we saw the northern lights above Lake Superior in Michigan, and we named Aurora after the aurora borealis, so it was sweet to see them once again.

A little research has helped understand why the place is full of Japanese: "A child conceived under the aurora will have an auspicious future." See http://www.bing.com/travel/content/search?q=12+for+2012%3a+Fairbanks%2c+Alaska&cid=msn1228270&FORM=HPTRAV for pictures of aurora borealis and the brief explanation.

Ice Museum Tour: A husband and wife team created the entire ice museum. It is heated in the winter (I know--how ironic! But the very cold temperatures would damage delicate ice creations!) and cooled in the summer so it is the largest permanent ice museum in the world. This is only cost effective because of the use of geothermal energy. The ice is harvested from a nearby beaver pond and stored in huge blocks inside the museum. There are four rooms for rent, at $800 per night, there is a wedding area for those who want to get married in the ice museum, and there is an ice bar, complete with plates, benches and the bar. Appletinis are available to purchase to drink on the tour and you drink it out of an ice glass. I guess most people who stay the night in the ice hotel end up spending only part of the night there because of the cold (it is about 20 degrees), plus there are no bathrooms in there so if they want to shower they have to rent a regular room also. Pictures of the creations don't do justice to the amazing beauty and skill involved in these creations.

Greenhouse tour: Because of the geothermal energy it is relatively inexpensive to heat the greenhouse, and the electricity for the lights is generated in the geothermal power plant. The greenhouse puts out about 200 pounds of tomatoes a week in the winter; 600 pounds per week in the summer. It also pumps out the lettuce, cucumbers and herbs. It supplies the hospital in Fairbanks as well as other business, including their own restaurant, with their fresh veggies. All plants are grown hydroponically. The tomato plants last about 2 years. As they grow they move the tops, trimming off the dead leaves and tying the tops a little further down, so each row has a long, long stem wound around. They used to let tours walk through the greenhouses until an infestation wiped out their tomato crop last year as some pest came in on someones shoes. Now one can only look at it.

Geothermal energy tour: The resort gets most of its energy from geothermal sources. A 700 foot well draws up water that is 160 degrees. Since it takes boiling water at 212 degrees to create steam, they mix the hot water with R-134, a chemical mixture that lowers the boiling point. The steam created runs a turbine that is converted to electricity. They are in the process of drilling a 3000 foot well which they hope will have hotter water, over 212 degrees, and which would allow them to create even more energy. If they do so, they will supply the nearby Eileson Air Force Base (which is now off the grid, burning diesel fuel) with a renewable and cheap source of energy. The kids especially found this tour to be fascinating, and we asked many questions of our tour guide (who, ironically, was from Houghton, Michigan).

Hot Springs: The hot springs were discovered right around 1904 by explorers, and early settlers in Fairbanks would spend weeks traveling to visit the springs, which had reports of miracle healings. The main pool building had 2 indoor hot tubs and a large pool, both chlorinated, though with the hot spring water. A very large outdoor hot tub was also chlorinated. Kids under the age of 18 were only allowed in one of the chlorinated hot tubs or pools. Aurora and Denver would roll in the snow and then hop back in the hot tub outside. There were not many lights outside and not many people either so it seemed very private and comfortable. The Rock Lake was the only natural hot pool. It was chest deep in most places, with pea gravel lining the bottom and huge boulders arrayed around the outer edges. The water temperature varied; there was one section that was hotter than we could stand. People would lounge around on the rocks on the edges or sit on chairs in the water. It was a really neat atmosphere, and we actually managed to sit in it for an hour (well, half in--we did the rock lounging thing). Supposedly the high mineral content draws toxins out of the body, and also have a dehydrating effect so we were very thirsty after soaking.

Overall we enjoyed our time at Chena. We probably wouldn't make it a destination again, driving halfway across Alaska just to go there, but if we were in Fairbanks, we would go out for the day. And I think we all agreed we'd rather not go there in the summer when the bugs are bad and it is hot!

The Drive to the Interior (in Winter!)

2011-12-28T20:33:00.004-09:00

This year we decided to break our 3-year tradition of going to Alyeska Resort downhill skiing and snowboarding and go somewhere new for a Christmas vacation. Most Alaskans think of warm and sunny places, but we'd have to force our kicking and screaming kids to go to Hawaii or somewhere 'hot' (over 70 degrees!), so Alaska was going to be our choice. I'd heard of Chena Hot Springs, 60 miles northeast of Fairbanks, and thought that would be a cool destination. No protests ensued, so I took that as assent from the kids.

I'll admit: I was very nervous about this trip. I'd heard that it is an 11 hour drive from Homer to Fairbanks in the summer (read: dry roads, long hours of daylight). We'd driven up that way 7 years ago when visiting Alaska before we moved here, but that was all a blur. Mapquest said it was 640 miles from Homer to Chena. I know the area north of Wasilla is remote--more remote than the Kenai Peninsula (which, by the way, I once thought was remote but now don't think so quite as much). Day 1 we planned to make it to Wasilla, the largest town (hotel) before Fairbanks. We ran errands all the way, stopping to drop off Christmas presents, get an oil change and shop.

Tuesday morning was the big day. We were on the road by 9:00 a.m. About 5 inches of snow had fallen overnight so the roads were covered. Heading north on the Parks Highway, we saw quite a few moose--momma with baby, two males with racks, and a dead moose on the side of the road, lit up by flares. There were lots and lots of plows out--more plows than cars. It was a road--like any other road. It was mostly pretty straight and mostly flat and it was covered with snow, and the further north we got it was covered more with ice than snow. In one awesome stretch of maybe 40 miles by Denali National Park, the roads were actually clear and there was very little snow. Once we passed that, though, it got icier and icier, and by time we passed the Tanana River at Nenana and started heading up, up, and up in the hills, we were into icy roads that looked more icy than those seen on the show Ice Road Truckers. Cars kept going 50-60 mph...and I was very grateful that Douglas was driving. It wasn't a thin sheet of ice--it was a solid sheet of ice, both lanes, for miles and miles. I have never seen ice like that before. There was little traffic so we just kept a steady speed and kept going. What else could we do?

The only other highlight of the trip was our bathroom break. There are so few gas stations once you leave Wasilla and no rest areas that are open so a bathroom break means going by the car on a pull-off. I was at the end of my rope and needed a restroom NOW and there was finally a pull-off. As luck would have it, the vehicle in front of us pulled off also, then a car came from the other direction (we hadn't seen a car come by for miles) AND a military helicopter flew right over us--all in the space of the one minute we were stopped. The forces were conspiring that I wouldn't get my bathroom break!

Once we passed Fairbanks and got onto Chena Hot Springs Road, we had adventure of a different sort: a one lane road. It had snowed quite a bit and the plows hadn't hit that road yet, so all traffic barreled down the middle of the road. Luckily, it was flat and straight and there was no wildlife to hit. It only got dicey when traffic came at us. Then we'd both slow down and pull off to the side into the deep unplowed area to pass each other, hoping we were still on the road. As we'd never driven this particular road before, we had no idea how wide the road really was. And of course it was pitch black. However, by 5 p.m. we made it to Chena, for a total of 14 hours of driving from Homer, between the two days.

The return trip was better: we left Chena during daylight hours (the sun doesn't rise at all for a couple months, but it still gets light out) and the road was plowed. We spent a night in Fairbanks so we could press homeward from there. We left Fairbanks at 9 a.m. Storm warnings and difficult driving conditions were reported on alaska511.com so I was just hopeful to get to Wasilla. Twelve and a half hours later we pulled into our driveway in Homer. I am no longer intimidated by that drive, and it is now in the realm of do-able. Not that I want to do it often, but if we need to, we can. We just drive. At one point of the drive I asked Douglas which he would rather have: the busy freeways of Michigan or the deserted but icy and snow-covered roads of the Parks Highway. He admitted he'd rather have the Alaska highways. I agree. The traffic is more stressful than the weather.

Eveline State Recreation Area

2011-08-12T15:05:00.006-08:00

Nearly 11 miles out East End Road, a brown sign announces the Eveline State Recreation Area. I first knew this as cross-country ski trails in the winter and I thought the trails were too boggy to walk in the summer so had never gone there to try hiking until last fall. I needed to run out that way for an errand today so packed a lunch, grabbed my kids and one of their friends and headed up.

There are 2 picnic tables a short walk from the trailhead parking area. As I was sitting there with the kids eating, I was amazed by how many different flowers were blooming. Lupine, wild geraniums, fireweed, pushki, monkshood and more competed in a wild profusion of color, making it a beautiful alpine meadow vista.

The trail was quite overgrown with grass, as many trails in Alaska are by this time of year. In some places it felt like we were walking through a tunnel of grass; it was well over my head! There is the Alpine Loop Trail, which is maybe a mile loop and quite easy. The Glacier View Loop is even shorter and sticks to the higher ground. The single track trail was hard packed--no sign of any of the boggy-ness I'd imagined. It is well marked with signs to keep you on track. Views of Portlock and Dixon Glaciers (seen in the picture below) are plentiful from either trail.

I was impressed with how busy the trails were today. There were 4 other cars in the parking lot when we left. While it doesn't have the quantity of hiking that I normally like, it is a nice family hike and picnic area for those with young kids and a change of pace when we want to have a leisurely get-away.

The most confusing part of this place is how to pronounce it. It was named after a lady named Eveline (her husband donated the land to the state), so is it ev-a-lean or is it eve-line or ev-line? I have heard people refer to it all ways, but I don't know which one is right!

Oil Drilling in Kachemak Bay?!

2011-08-12T14:46:00.004-08:00

I was gone for 5 days last week and came home Sunday evening. When I woke up Monday morning and looked out the window to be greeted by...an oil rig?! I was startled, to say the least. Was I really that tired when I got home Sunday night that I missed it? Did I miss something--how could an oil rig get parked in Homer's front yard without my knowing it was coming? Panic and a sick, icky feeling descended. A flurry of online searches and phone calls to friends unearthed the situation: it is a jack-up oil rig headed to the Nikiski area. It left the Gulf of Mexico this spring and has been hauled around the tip of South America all the way up to Alaska, detained at one point in Canada because it was being hauled by a foreign shipper. It is gone now, with only a 3-day visit, much to my relief. Apparently the last oil rig to enter Kachemak Bay was in the 1970's, and it got stuck there for a year. Having an oil rig in our front yard definitely shook up my complacency, though whether it did so enough to make me an environmental activist is another story!

For additional stories about the jack-up rig, check out the Homer News' article at http://www.homernews.com/stories/081011/news_jurhuc.shtml and the Kachemak Bay Conservation Society's article at http://www.kbayconservation.org/news/view/166546/?topic=67160.

Equine Therapy

2011-08-09T14:48:00.005-08:00

My cousin in Soldotna is an occupational therapist and loves horses and she dreamed of combining the two in a way that would help kids grow and work through their specific issues. Three years ago she started a hippotherapy business, Nature's Way Rehabilitation Services, that operates one day a week in the summer. This year her summer program is offering both occupational therapy (by Angela Beplat) and speech therapy (by Noelle Miller), whom are both American Hippotherapy Association Level 1 Certified Therapists. Internationally, hippotherapy means "treatment with the help of the horse" and is derived from the Greek Word "hippo", meaning horse. The term "hippotherapy" was created to distinguish the medical or rehabilitative use of the movement of the horse from other equine activities which emphasize applications for education, recreation or sport riding for the sport riding for the disabled. The term is used by North American therapists to maintain consistency in the use of semantics internationally and to designate that the movement of the horse is being used by physical therapists, occupational therapists, speech therapist, PTAs, and COTAs in a treatment setting. Last Friday I was on my way to Anchorage (again!) and stopped by to see how it worked. It was a sweet little operation.

When we got there a little boy with autism was riding backwards on the horse. There are various benefits to different position(s) used in hippotherapy. Riding backwards improves posture, alters typical sitting sensory input, and provides a large surface for upper extremity weight bearing and function. Every so often they would stop and a volunteer would throw a ball to him, he would catch it (to applause by everyone) and throw it back (to applause by everyone). He would squeal in delight and was all smiles and even my not-too-expressive daughter exclaimed, "He's a cute kid!"

Then a brother and sister showed up for their session. Each has different issues they are in therapy for. Their grandparents are now applying to adopt their grandkids, and I chatted with the grandfather and he spoke glowingly of how far his grandson, who is autistic, has come during therapy, and how much the horse therapy has been a welcome boost for the kids. A 6-year-old with cerebral palsy has been coming for three years and he walks in a walker. Up on the horse, he must feel like he is flying because he absolutely loves riding! Angela asked him if he would rather ride a horse to get stronger or walk on the treadmill, and he promptly said "ride a horse!"

Each child has a 45 minute session and there is 15 minutes in between sessions for the volunteers to change therapy equipment (which is typically a bareback saddle pad or vaulting single or double sursingle), take a break or regroup. Some kids have severe physical ailments or emotional issues and it can take some time to get them into the arena and on the horse. Many have never been around horses before so it can be a huge confidence booster to successfully ride one. There are 1 or 2 volunteers per child, with one person leading, a therapist on the left as the main sidewalker and sometimes a sidewalker is also needed on the right, depending on the skill of the child. Each child wears a belt so if the horse gets spooked, the guides can pull them off.

I have heard my cousin talk about this for years, but it was neat to actually be there and see the kids experiencing this. The volunteers were enthusiastic about the program and were very nice people, so there was just an overall good feeling about the setup. It reminds me how, despite the remoteness of Alaska, there are gems like this that one wouldn't expect to find....and it is a gem!

Exploring the Flattop Area--O'Malley Gulley

2011-07-26T17:52:00.008-08:00

The Flattop/Glen Alps trails criss-cross the hillside.

The Flattop/Glen Alps area is a huge attraction in Anchorage: miles and miles of hiking trails and a nice, wide graveled mountain biking trail up the powerline too. We've driven up there a number of times, having discovered it by accident once when driving around exploring town. I was in Anchorage for a week for a silent retreat last week, just minutes away from Flattop, so I got up there a couple times.

It was not your typical silent retreat type atmosphere: cars were circling the parking lot like piranhas, waiting for a parking spot to come open in the packed lot, masses of people gathered around the pay pipe to pay their $5 (I think) fee to park in the lot, more masses of people qued up at the bathrooms. I ended up parking down the road a ways and hiking back up the road. It saved me my parking fee and added to my workout.

The first time I went up there I was going to hike up to Flattop, a 1280 foot climb (according to Wikipedia; a van giving tours of Flattop advertised it as a 1320 foot climb) in 1 1/2 miles, but there were so many people I didn't think I could stick to my silence so I opted to hike the powerline trail, which is mostly flat and heads straight up the valley. There were masses of people along there too, but I got through with a smile and a wave, even though every group I met verbally said hello to me (Jeepers! The one time I wouldn't have minded people NOT saying hello, everyone did!).

A couple days later I headed up to the trailhead again. This time I decided to take a trail less traveled, but it was only slightly less traveled! I headed up the gulch trail, and discovered it reminded me of Mt. Marathon in Seward and Skyline in the Skilak Lake area: hard packed trail with loose gravel on top of it. Yuck! To add to that it was HOT out. I had a plastic glove on to protect my burnt hand (from my 2nd/3rd degree burns in March) from the sunshine. Each time I stopped for a rest I would take off the glove and sweat would pour out of it.

The O'Malley Gulley winds its way up the side of this slope to a snowdrift at the saddle.

I put my head down and plodded up steadily. A big snowdrift marks the top of the saddle. Trails continue to the left (to overlook Anchorage) to the right and straight on along a face. I was there more for the solitude than the hike, so I opted to go left to an area overlooking Anchorage. In looking more online, the trail that goes straight heads to O'Malley Peak, and there is an excellent description of these hikes at http://www.summitpost.org/o-malley-peak/536178.

Minutes after I found a comfy rock to enjoy my silence, a dog came panting up and two couples sat down behind me. So much for solitude! Ironically, when I headed down later and was soaking my feet in a stream at the bottom of the trail, the same dog brushed by me and stood at my feet in the stream, and the same group took photos at the bridge.

I blogged about Kincaid Park awhile back, saying that if I lived by Kincaid, I could stand living in Anchorage. Now that I have discovered all the trails at the Flattop/Glen Alps area, I would love to live near them. Even with the crowds of people, the hiking is just incredible, the views outstanding and the workout potential extraordinary. I actually have an ache in me with disappointment that I don't live by Flattop. I want so badly to go explore all those trails! What a gem to have all those trails so close to a city! And to top it all off, I found ripe crowberries to munch on before I headed back to my car. What a treat!

Byron Glacier

2011-07-26T17:23:00.007-08:00

Byron Glacier has the look of a retreating glacier.

Last year some friends hiked up to Byron Glacier. I was supposed to go with them but wasn't able to get there in time and missed it, so I've been meaning to go. In April I tried taking our exchange student, but the road was blocked off for the winter and I didn't know how long of a hike it was back to the trailhead so we skipped it. I was on my way to Anchorage for a retreat last week and had a couple hours to spare so decided it was the perfect day for a side excursion.

Byron Glacier is about 45 minutes south of Anchorage at the Whitter-Portage Glacier turnoff. You drive right by the Portage Glacier visitor center and then take the road around the glacial lake as if you were going to go on the Portage Glacier Lake boat tour, but before you get there a parking area announces the Byron Glacier trailhead.

The bear alert posted prominently at the trailhead didn't seem to be discouraging anyone, as there were many people on the trail. This must be billed as a 'family' hike because most of the people out there were families with young children. It is a .8 mile hike on a wide, gravel nearly flat trail, so it provides an accessibility that many hikes in Alaska don't provide. There was a person being pushed up the trail in a wheelchair and strollers were a common sight.

The .8 miles may have at one time gotten one to the base of the glacier, but now it just takes you to a viewpoint. I decided to scramble over the boulders and glacial scree a bit further, and discovered after 20 minutes of scrambling that it would probably take me another 45 minutes or more to get to the glacier itself. I didn't have enough time for that so I took my pictures and headed back.

Turning around, I was treated to an awesome sight. There was a ring of mountains, with at least 4 glaciers on the one section of mountain range. I get used to seeing glaciers in Alaska--they're everywhere it seems--but I'd never seen 4 of them in a row like that. If I were doing a quick visit of Alaska, I would want to put this hike on the list just because it was easily accessible and yet had some beautiful views of glaciers.

What Some Alaskan's Do for Fun!

2011-07-17T13:05:00.006-08:00

Each summer we spend a week in Ninilchik at my aunt and uncle's for Vacation Bible School. A number of people stay there for the week so it has become a tradition to go swimming and floating in Deep Creek each July during VBS. We'd never been part of it before, but it was one of the highlights of the week for our kids.

We get life preservers on everyone, find a good spot to head in with the deepest water (not more than 4 feet anywhere) and strongest current, and then let go and float down! This year we lucked out and it was actually a little bit hot--64 degrees in the shade! I wasn't going to float, but it looked like so much fun I broke down and did it. I was impressed that I was warmer when I came out of the water than in in (normally once you're wet the wind makes it chillier to be out of the water than in!). The water was surprisingly warm too. I'd waded in that water before and it was so cold your feet hurt within minutes. I stood in the water for 10 minutes before jumping in with no loss of feeling in my feet!

The clincher was that just as we were done wading someone discovered bear prints in the mud of the coal bar that we'd been walking on (seen in the picture). It looked fresh within a couple of days. We'd had a heavy rain two days before, and there were a few water drop marks in the track, but for the most part it was a clear track. Apparently if you can see the claws it is a grizzly/brown bear, and the claw marks are clear on the front paw print of the picture below. Obviously we'd been walking right by these tracks for an hour without even seeing them (the footprint next to the hind pawprint was not done on purpose for the picture). The kids weren't overly nervous, but we did look around a bit after that, just to make sure we weren't being stalked!!

Swan Lakes Canoe Trip

2011-07-16T22:57:00.016-08:00

The lakes we canoed are just what I picture the Boundary Waters to look like.

Ever since I was a kid growing up in northern Wisconsin, I wanted to go on an overnight canoe trip, and it has been my dream to canoe the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. When we moved to Alaska, one of my friends and I laughingly said I'd have to fly down and we'd canoe the Boundary Waters together. While Alaska is a long ways from Minnesota, I am pretty sure my recent canoe trip with my son's Boy Scout troop had some things in common with that trip I've dreamed of all my life. And now that I've experienced carrying 4 canoes, 1 kayak and 3 days of supplies over 7 portages, I no longer dream of doing it again! But I get ahead of myself. Here's our adventure:

When I heard Denver's Boy Scout troop was going on a 3-day canoe trip, I wanted to go, but I wasn't sure they would let a woman go with Boy Scouts. The scoutmaster was gracious and I joined him and one other parent on the trip, along with 6 scouts ranging in age from 11 to 17. I'd received drybags for Christmas in anticipation of a boating trip of some sort (this is Alaska, where there is water everywhere!) so Denver and I packed our gear in them. I wasn't sure how to pack at first, but after talking to the scoutmaster I realized that I should pack for a canoe trip with portages like I would pack for a backpacking trip. I'd just done that a week before and still had my equipment out so it was a cinch, adding ziplock bags over anything that didn't fit in drybags.

We met at 8:30 on a Friday morning, loaded up a couple pickup trucks and headed out. No trip from Homer is complete without a stop at Fred Meyers in Soldotna for a potty break and to pick up last minute supplies or food, so we battled summer crowds and then we were back on the road.

In Sterling just past the elementary school there is a turnoff marked by a brown recreation sign. We turned down that road and drove the gravel for 45 minutes to the Swan Lakes trailhead. Once there, the fun began. We unloaded all the gear, canoes and kayak and carried everything 150 or so yards down to the first lake. Supplies were divvied up between the canoes, with the one 17-footer getting the heaviest load. Supplies were bungied and tied in, life preservers secured and we shoved off.

We looked around the tiny lake and then realized that we were going to have to paddle through the daylilies. It was novel and exciting for a little bit, but we soon got used to it. We broke through the lilies into the main part of the lake, which twisted and turned, till we spotted the little brown canoe sign that indicated the take-out point.

The scoutmaster had been on this route a couple times before and he said there was a narrow stream that led to the next lake, but we might have to get out and drag the canoe through some places if it was too shallow. He didn't think his 17-foot canoe would make it through. Denver and I opted to portage with our canoe and his while the rest of the group paddled through. Just as we pulled out, a group with 4 canoes was heading down the trail towards us, so it was a mess jockeying around each other. Denver and I had our backpacking packs on full of gear and were trying to carry the canoe too. It was a recipe for failure. A kind man in the other group offered to finish carrying Denver's end of the canoe the rest of the way, and Denver carried his gear to the end they were putting in at. By that point I was hot, sweaty, exhausted and dreading the rest of the portages. The rest of the paddlers were waiting for us, having made it through the stream with no problems.

We got our gear loaded up again and set off. Less than 5 minutes later it seemed we spotted the take-out point sign, and with a sigh, started the process over again. This portage was a bit longer (1/4 mile?), but the trail was flat and in pretty good shape. We no longer tried to carry our gear and the canoes at the same time. And we were working out a system for who carried what and how to most efficiently carry the canoes and kayak. Denver was so much shorter than everyone else that I ended up assigning him to carry gear back and forth, so he usually made 3 trips back and forth from one end to the other of the portage, while everyone else made 2 trips: one for gear and one for a canoe. By the trip coming home the best system was discovered: hook on the drybags to the canoe and carry it on your shoulders. I didn't actually carry a canoe like this till the final walk back up to the staging area at the end, and I was amazed at how easy it was compared to hauling gear in a straightarm hang or some other contorted way. Now I know. I got such a good workout that I am still sore from the portaging a week later!

Soon we got into our routine of put in, paddle, take-out, unload and haul, load up and put in again. This was interspersed with conversation, snacks, potty breaks and just a tiny bit of complaining. Mostly, we just put down our heads and did what we had to do. I spent some of my time pondering what food I was carrying that was so gosh-darn heavy. I discovered that it was a bottle of syrup, an entire box of pancake mix, scads of oatmeal, among other things. We ate well, and I worked for it!

After 4 portages (3 for some of them), we had a river portage. This one was fun as the river twisted and turned through the grass, and if we pushed off the banks we could go really fast. Once we got through this river we were in Spruce Lake, our destination. There were 4 'developed' campsites on this lake (you know from my prior blog posts that 'developed' doesn't mean much!), one on the right side of the lake when we came in and three on a nice level grassy bench with poplar trees on our left. We opted for the middle one of these as it had a nice launch area and had the largest grassy area for pitching tents. As you can see from the picture, it looks like previous groups of Boy Scouts had a lot of fun 'developing' this campsite!

Within 10 minutes of landing the kids had their tents set up and were back in the canoe paddling around the lake and exploring the camp area. It had taken us 4 hours to paddle across 5 lakes, make 4 land portages and 1 water portage. It was 6:00 p.m. What a process!

The camp was beautiful and comfortable, with even an outdoor bathroom (which no one used since it was in full sight of the camp!). There were virtually no bugs. I put bug spray on the first evening to deter a few mosquitoes, but after that never even thought about bugs though I was prepared with headnets. Loons were calling back and forth, we saw a momma swan with 4 little babies cruising around the lake, occasional eagles flew over, and the temperature were typical 55-60 degrees, which is what we are used to most of the summer in Alaska. It was very peaceful, even with Boy Scouts running around, whittling swords out of sticks, planning mock fights and all the things that boys do.

I had more fun on that canoe camping trip than I've had in a long time. The kids were great, the conversations good, the weather excellent and I had a good book. Because I wasn't in charge and I did not want to take over and 'mommy' the kids, I held back and let them cook and clean, giving me a lot more leisure time than I am used to when it comes to meals. We stayed until Sunday morning so had a full day to loll around, chat, explore, read and play. I don't normally plan on days of 'doing nothing' into our camping trips, and I discovered how delightful it was! Best of all, I got to see the inner workings of a Boy Scout trip. The quantity of sharp objects was amazing, the amount of industrious building and creating was fascinating, and the level of 'niceness' of the boys was just cool. I can't say every outing is like this, but I sure enjoyed this one, and it was worth every sore muscle!

Halibut Cove

2011-07-07T18:58:00.008-08:00

Everyone talks about Halibut Cove like it is 'next door,' and it is--if you have a boat or are willing to pay water taxi rates (@$85 per person). The last time we went to Halibut Cove was 6 or 7 years ago when we were visiting Alaska, long before we ever considered moving here. On July 4th, the group of us that were camped on Right Beach decided to take a boat ride over to Halibut Cove and walk around.

I admit, Halibut Cove is a neat place. We docked at The Saltry, an indoor/outdoor restaurant that abuts a natural rock, creating a cozy spot for a fire and a unique dining atmosphere. Boardwalks wind around through the village, with art galleries, a coffee shop and gift shops scattered along the way. While the population of Halibut Cove swells in the summer months, there is a core of people who live there year-round, including the physician who treated my burned hand earlier this year. That lady grew up in Halibut Cove and lives there still, commuting the 5 or 6 miles across Kachemak Bay by boat to the Homer Harbor to get to work a couple times a week. From what I hear, artists flock to Halibut Cove, and there is an oyster farm there as well. There are many nooks and crannies to explore, whether by land or water, and it is a very popular place for kayakers as well as hikers. We saw a number of very well-kept horses and people out riding, so apparently there is enough space to make it worth saddling up a horse and going out, though we didn't venture that far.

We expected the cove to be hopping with Fourth of July festivities, but besides the Saltry and one gallery, everything was closed. We saw a lively softball game going on behind one gallery, so apparently the fourth is a day of rest in Halibut Cove rather than a day of work. And later that evening as we sat at our campsite on Right Beach (which is on an undeveloped arm of Halibut Cove), fireworks began going off over the village.

One can hardly mention Halibut Cove without mentioning Gull Island, as it is a big rock covered with common murre, cormorants, gulls, puffins and more on the path between the Homer Harbor and Halibut Cove. We decided to explore the coves, bays and lagoons down the coast towards Seldovia after we were done meandering through Halibut Cove so we made a jog over to Gull Island to check out the teeming seabird life.

There is a sense of special coziness to Halibut Cove, though 'cozy' can at some point feel claustrophobic if one no longer wants to live there. It can be very isolated in the winter when storms come up and batter the shore, keeping boats off the waters. Part of me said, "I could never live here," but I think I would need to explore it more before I said that. And it is the people that really make a place a community, so without getting to know the people there it would be premature of me to say I couldn't live somewhere. It did remind me of my time living on Mackinac Island on Lake Huron (again, cozy or claustrophobic, depending on your state of mind), with the quaint uniqueness of a small town on the water. I do hope to get back over to Halibut Cove and explore more over the next few years.

Grewingk Glacier Hike

2011-07-07T16:00:00.012-08:00

We see Grewingk Glacier every day from our yard, so it is an everyday sight. We were spending 4 days camping on Right Beach near the Grewingk Glacier trailhead this past weekend and we were hoping for an opportunity to get closer to the glacier than the Grewingk Glacier Lake. I took a look at the map and figured it would be a 6 mile hike one way, which would make it 12 round trip--a long day hike. I wasn't sure I was up for it, but Aurora was really pushing for it, and Douglas was willing to go so I decided to pack a day pack and go.

I'd been up till 3 am the night before and slept in till 10, ate a hearty breakfast of pancakes and it was 12:30 before we finally made the the decision to GO! We've been doing so much backpacking and camping lately that I have my 'essentials' down pat, so our day pack contained lunch (summer sausage, cheese & crackers), snacks (pepperoni sticks, granola bars), 3 waterbottles, a water filter, rain gear, a first aid kit, hat and gloves, a lighter, a map, my iPhone (for the camera if not reception), bug dope, sunscreen and baseball cap.

It was a mile from our campsite to the Grewingk Glacier trailhead. When we got to the trailhead, the mileage said it was 6.5 miles to the glacier. Yipes! That meant 7.5 miles one way, or 15 miles round trip!! Were were up for this? Aurora was--I'm not sure Douglas and I were, but we were taking this one leg of the journey at a time.

The first 2.5 miles from the Glacier Spit to the tram were fairly smooth on a hard-packed trail. The first section was through the woods, while the next section traversed over the glacial river basin area so the trail was rocky and the vegetation was primarily short, scrubby poplar trees.

Things got interesting when we arrived at the tram. This is basically a rope on a pulley system strung across the river (in this case, the river that runs from Grewingk Glacier and Lake to Kachemak Bay) with a little 2-seater metal box hanging from it. A wooden platform at each end is the staging area for pulling yourself across the river by pulling on the ropes. When we arrived the tram was on the other side so we had to pull it across to our side. Aurora and I boarded and then I pulled on the rope from the tram and Douglas pulled on the rope from shore. My heartrate shot up and my arms felt like they were going to drop off in short order. It was much more difficult to pull this tram than the one in Girdwood. Once we got to the other side, Aurora and I got out and we all heaved on the rope to get it back to Douglas's side to pick him up. It was not much easier whether someone was in it or not. We got our technique down for putting the most heave on the rope at a time and utilized our legs and core muscles rather than just our arms. Another 10 minutes and we had Douglas on our side, and we all stood there heaving and sweating, dreading the return trip.

Once we crossed the river the trail began to climb. I'd been expecting it to follow the river and stay on the flats but it went up and up and up--500 feet as I discovered later when I finally looked at the map. The trail wound right along the edge of the steep dropoff at times, making me think twice about my footing. The trail was in awesome shape: it looked like it had been weedwacked just a few days before so there was a couple feet swath on each side of the trail cleared, saving us the challenge of dodging pushki that might have been hanging over the trail. We got some great views of the Grewingk Lake and huge hunks of ice floating in it, as well as peeks at the glacier itself.

Once we got to the top of this huge hummock (some glacier creation perhaps), we descended it back to the glacial outwash flats again. As we neared the glacier, we climbed a bit through a forest and between a giant rock outcropping (which we can see from our house and is on the left of the picture below) and the mountainside. Once past that, the trail got really rough and in some places nonexistent as it meandered among boulders and fresh glacier fallout. When we finally reached one high esker? moraine? we got a good view of the glacier itself. At that point I was so tired it would have taken a lot to get me to go any further closer to the glacier. I figure it would have been another hour of scrambling over boulders and whatnot to actually touch the glacier ice.

We stopped for lunch in view of the glacier, scarfing down the sausage, cheese and crackers and downing the last of our water after bundling up in the face of the cold glacier breeze. A group was camped at a non-glacial lake near our stopping point for lunch (pictured here), and I considered that would have been much more humane than hiking 15 miles round trip in a day.

A fresh water stream cross our path a few minutes down the trail from the glacier so we stopped and filled up our waterbottles and then started on, feeling the energy from the food revving us up. I was feeling quite woozy and had known I needed food and water, and it was amazing what a difference the fuel made for my brain. Climbing back up the 500 foot hummock I felt good and strong, and my attitude was stoic as we approached the tram once again. But my arm muscles still got a workout to exhaustion, especially since someone had come by since we'd been there and the tram was on the other side.

The disadvantage to camping on Right Beach is that it is only accessible by water at high tide since it is bordered by cliffs that jut into the water. There is also a river at Left Beach that floods a lagoon each tide and then clears out. Depending on the tide, the river can be too high to cross. High tide was at 5:11 that day and we were going to be coming through at about 7:45 p.m. so we figured it would have gone down enough that we could get through, but our backup plan was to call my uncle to come get us in the boat or else sit and wait. The river was still about thigh deep, so Douglas and I just forded it with our boots on. It felt luscious on our tired feet and legs and I could have stood there for awhile. The water was still pummeling the base of the cliff onto Right Beach, but it was low enough that we could climb over the rocks, carefully avoiding ripping ourselves on the barnacles.

Relief! We were back! It took us 7 1/2 hours to hike the 15 miles, including tram time. We'd done that distance with backpacks only days before. Amazingly, I was not at all sore the next day. I was tired, but not hurting. I have to admit that I find the Grewingk Glacier to be much more spectacular from our house than it was close up, but it was still worth the hike for the sense of accomplishment and adventure of exploration.

Johnson Pass Backpacking Trip

2011-07-07T14:25:00.010-08:00

There were a couple awesome waterfalls along the Johnson Pass Trail.

We have been trying to get in one backpacking trip per summer. Last summer I did Crow Pass without the family, but this year we were determined to make Johnson Pass happen. It is only 23 miles long, from near Moose Pass at the south end to near Turnagin Pass on the north end. It is rated easy, with only 1000 feet elevation gain over the trail (that's total, not counting the ups and downs on the way). One of my cousins told me that the pushki (aka cows parsnip) and other vegetation grows up over the trail later in the summer, so we had decided that if we couldn't get the hike in before July 1 we would wait until next year. A small window of opportunity appeared the last week of June so we pulled out our backpacking equipment, bought a new water filter and made our plans.

Since it is a point to point hike, we had to have a vehicle at both ends. My cousin recommended starting at the south end and hiking north since it is a long, gradual uphill, while the north end of the pass has a couple of steep, rocky climbs. After dropping one vehicle at the trailhead by Granite Creek off the Seward Highway last Wednesday, we drove the 35 or so miles to the other end, parked and doped up (bug dope!). For other backpacking trips we'd built up to it by carrying loaded or partially loaded packs on walks for a few weeks or months before the hike. This year we didn't do that at all, so I was curious to see how our bodies held up. Leaving the house, my pack was 45 pounds, Douglas's was 35, Denver's 30 and Aurora's 20.

The first day was sunny and we, being cool weather lovers, were dying in the heat, especially as we traversed areas that were not shaded. We began at 12:30, and our goal was a campsite 6 miles in at a river. We took water breaks every 30 minutes or so, stopping for a minute or two for everyone to sip (gulp!), and every 1 1/2 hours we took a 10-15 minute sit-down break. The trail followed the edge of a large lake for the first couple hours. Besides occasional patches of pushki over the trail, conditions were super. The trail was a dry, packed single-track that was fairly smooth and free of rocks and roots. As clouds came in, we were happier and more comfortable as well.

By 4:00 we'd made our 6 mile goal and the developed campsite (basically, a sign that indicated there was a flat place to pitch a tent). None of us felt like setting up camp so early, particularly since the bugs were annoying as we sat and took a break by the river. We decided to push on and stop for dinner somewhere before we set up camp if we needed to. We did not have a good map and there were no mileage or other signs on the trail, so we really had no idea where we were. We knew there were 2 lakes at the summit, but besides that we were just guessing where we were. Two hours of hiking later, we had increased our elevation significantly and came upon a grove of spruce trees with a small stream next to it and a raging river nearby that we could hear but not see. We decided to make that camp, even though it didn't have a sign indicating it was a 'developed' campsite. It had a level spot for pitching a tent, a tree to hang our food in and non-glacial water nearby to pump and drink. Our basic needs were met.

Dinner was delicious: spaghetti with sauce and mashed potatoes with sausage and cheese. An hour after we'd arrived dinner was over, dishes washed, waterbottles filled, the tent up, food and smellies hanging from a tree, gear stowed under waterproof covers for the night and we were cozy in the tent playing a family cribbage tournament. It was a satisfying day. We figured we'd gone 8 miles that day, a pace of just under 2 mph.

The next morning we woke up at about 9 and began the process in reverse: let down the food from the tree, make breakfast (bagels with cream cheese and ramen noodles), pump more water, pack up sleeping bags, pads and tent, and repack packs. Aurora had complained that she wasn't tired at all the day before so we loaded her up, giving her heavier items from each of our packs. It took an hour from the time we woke up till we walked out of the campsite, moving about our tasks at a steady but not hurried pace.

Only one hour after we began, we arrived at the summit, marked by a sign: Johnson Pass, Elevation 1450 ft. There was a pile of snow nearby (it is barely visible above my shoulder in this picture), but besides that, it was not an exciting moment. We'd been expecting to get above treeline as we'd done on other passes we'd hiked, but there were still willow and alder bushes around us at the summit and higher above us too. It did open up a bit, though, so we weren't in the tall trees and we could finally see further ahead and where the trail led.

Between the two lakes at the summit, a section of stream had rerouted onto the trail so we had a bit of muck hopping and branch balancing to do. Other than that, it was good hiking, though the further down the north side of the pass we went the more encounters with pushki over the trail we had. Doug did end up with a blister on one arm after that day, which wasn't bad considering how much pushki we'd plowed through. Some Silvadine, a medication I'd gotten when I burned my hand a few months ago, made the blister disappear overnight--to us a miracle as pushki blisters tend to itch, ooze and be a real pain. Now that we know Silvadine works on pushki burns, it is going to be a staple in our first aid kit (Unfortunately, it is a prescription only medication).

We didn't have a plan for how long we were going to hike. We kept asking each other, "How far are we going to go today?" and we just didn't have an answer. About 2:00 we stopped for lunch along the trail (soup, bagels & mashed potatoes with sausage) and sometime around then someone mentioned pizza and Coldstone ice cream and how good that would be. I asked the kids if they were willing to hike out that day (estimated at 15 miles) for pizza and ice cream and they responded with firm "Yes!" Without mileage signs we didn't know for sure where we were at at any point so it was hard to say where to stop. Plus, we didn't want to pitch camp and sit around for hours and hours. Thus, it was not a difficult decision to press on to the end, though our bodies were getting very tired by that point. I had a blister on one heel (the moleskin rubbed off) but I was fine as long as I didn't have to go uphill. The mostly smooth, downhill trail was a blessing.

At 6 pm we walked into the north trailhead parking lot. We'd been on the trail since 10 am, and we think 15 miles is pretty close to what we hiked that day. We met at least 15 mountain bikers the first day on the trail, but only 2 the second day. From what I hear, this is a very popular mountain biking trail, and I would enjoy it--early in the season before the plants overgrow the trail.

The only bummer of this trip is that I lost my camera the first 3 or 4 miles of day 1 near the south trailhead. It was clipped to my backpack belt. When I noticed it was gone during a water break, I took off my pack and ran a half mile or more back on the trail looking for it but never did find it. I asked some southbound bikers to keep an eye out for it and mail it to me if they found it. Thus, the pictures you see are what we took on Douglas's iphone. I am still holding out hope that my camera will be found and returned.

We were all proud of ourselves for accomplishing this hike, especially in 2 days. It has been over 15 years since Douglas and I have backpacked that much in a day, and I know our kids never had, though they'd done 13 miles a day on their previous backpacking trips (Chilkoot Pass and Resurrection Pass). This was a milestone for our family as well: we have never gone for a backpacking trip with just our family ever before. We'd always gone with my aunt and uncle and cousins, so it was neat for us to do this on our own. Our confidence level of hiking in the backcountry of Alaska has increased a lot in 4 years of living here. It is a good feeling to have, and I am now plotting the next backpacking trip for the family!

Addendum: Stan and Lisa found my camera on the trail and mailed it to me, so I have my camera back!! I am going to add 3 more pictures I think you would all enjoy. And a note to the prepared among my readers: put your name and address on your camera and anything else you would want returned to you if you lost it. This is the second camera we'd lost in 3 years. The last one disappeared around the Kenai River, but we didn't have it labeled so even if someone had wanted to return it, it would have been difficult. We learned from our experience!

Aurora and Denver adjust the walking stick.

The trail followed the lake for the first couple hours. We didn't realize how big the lake was, but it kept going on and on!

Tidepooling Kasitsna & Jakolof Bays

2011-04-21T17:44:00.009-08:00

Starfish and Other Tidepool Creature Heaven!

I love tidepooling. This field trip was designed for people like me in mind--never mind that it was for the kids! I learned more about tidepooling and the shoreline ecosystem from a couple days with these naturalists from the Center for Alaskan Coastal Studies than I have in years of bumbling along on my own.

Besides all the dozens and dozens of very cool sea creatures we found, what I found most valuable was the rules of etiquette for tidepooling:

Don't pick up rocks bigger than your head.
Pick up the rock with one hand, stop and look for a minute while the creatures come out of hiding.
Put the rock back gently and prop it up with a smaller rock so you don't smoosh the creatures.
Turn over lots of rocks!
Step carefully: with every step you will be stepping on and hurting some creature (It's unavoidable).
If you find something cool, yell out, "Hey, come look at this!" rather than running over to the other people. The chances of 1-dropping the cool thing and 2-Falling are greater. Let others come to you.
Everything can be touched. The crabs are the only things that can hurt; pick them up by their carapace.
Go slow.

When I've tidepooled in the past in the kelp beds on Bishop's Beach I have seen amazing and cool things, but turning over the rocks is where all the really cool stuff is! Starfish, hermit crabs, shrimp, worms, sea cucumbers, limpets, snails, clams, chitons, anemones and more were found in profusion under every rock. Sometimes I would pop up a rock and nothing would move and it looked like there was nothing there. After about 10 seconds, there would be a little movement of a hermit crab, then another, and pretty soon the space under that rock would be teeming with movement from all the creatures.

Everyone has their favorites when tidepooling. Mine was starfish. The orange starfish pictured at the top eats other starfish. The purple star to the left was moving, creeping through the water as I watched it. Another mom on the trip loved the little fish that hid under the rocks. Apparently there are so many species of these fish that no one has ever recorded them all. In fact, Patrick, the naturalist from CACS who led our trip, said that we would probably see things in two days of tidepooling that have either never been seen before or else have never been named.

We were encouraged to pick up, touch, identify and share our findings. The CACS received a permit to take certain creatures for a summer of research. Our group was the first of the year to go out, so we were making the initial collections for the wet lab. One girl found a giant green worm that even Patrick had never seen and had no idea what it was; since there was only one we did not add that to the items to go back to the lab. The sheer amount of life in the intertidal zone was mindboggling. I am still shaking my head, picturing all creatures we saw. After two hours of tidepooling Jakalof Bay my head was swimming (literally!) and I was overwhelmed with images and information.

Tour guide, Patrick, showing off a starfish.

Patrick shared a funny story about the Decorator Crabs. These crabs normally pull seaweed and other plants onto themselves as camouflage (I saw some seaweed swimming around and thought it was my imagination! It was a Decorator Crab!) When the Exxon Valdez oil spill occurred there were all these styrofoam things around as part of the cleanup effort. The Decorator Crabs started cover themselves with pieces of styrofoam to blend in. People started seeing these little white crabs scuttling around the beach!

What struck me about this is that people travel from all over the country or world to experience what we did a mere miles from home. The richness of this ecosystem is amazing, and I have a new respect for how each plant and animal is interconnected and plays a role in the system. We saw animals eating animals: starfish eat clams (and each other), crabs eat other crabs, worms eat clams, birds eat all and fish play their role. That's only counting the things we could see, and is hardly even counting the plant life. That we can see these things right here where we live is such a cool thing. I am so glad to live in Homer!

Kasitsna Bay Laboratory & Research Center

2011-04-21T16:11:00.017-08:00

As part of the Connections Homeschool program, 7th-12 graders on the Kenai Peninsula were invited to the Kasistna Bay Laboratory this week for tidepooling education and career exploration. We were scheduled during a couple of the lowest tides of the year: a -5.5 tide which happened within 30 minutes of our arriving at Kasitsna Bay. This facility is quite a place, and the tidepooling was incredible so I will do separate blog entries on each.

This research center was built before Alaska was a state back in the 1950's. Four generations of caretakers in the same family have lived on this location. Researchers come from all over to study marine life, work on doctoral and masters theses, and there is even equipment that assists with the Fairbanks aurora borealis reports.

For a small place tucked into the pines, there were many buildings, many which were built or renovated in 1999.

The wet lab building contained a large room where seawater could be pumped into tanks with some reserve going into holding tanks before being let back out to the ocean. There was also a classroom, microscope room, storage rooms and another smaller wet lab. The microscopes were high quality, and the lights for them are so powerful that if the light is turned up too quickly the bulbs burst from the heat.

The scuba shack contained lockers, a training room and the air tanks. Apparently the source of one's air is important when scuba diving, so the tank room was locked more securely than the other buildings.

The dormitory where we stayed contained two large kitchens across the hall from each other, each with two refrigerators, stove, microwave and counters. A common area contained couches and a computer, while both upstairs and down bedroom suites shared bathrooms. Downstairs a laundry room was supplied with bedding, though we brought our own sleeping bags and pillowcases. Each carpeted bedroom contained two beds, dressers, lamps, a sink and a closet, opening into a bathroom with a shower and toilet. It was definitely comfortable. There was also a bunkhouse that contained 4 beds in each room (bunks). While we were there a group of high school students from Fairbanks were in that building.

A caretaker's house, the executive suite (for visiting professors or other dignitaries), a storage building for boats and cars, and a dry lab completed the ensemble, though there was such a conglomerate of buildings I am sure I missed some. The view, of course, was beautiful, with Mt. Illiamna rising above opposite shore of Kasitsna Bay.

One of the fun items on the agenda (reserved for groups with responsible, well-behaved children) was for the kids was to try on the emergency wetsuits and take a swim in the bay. Though the suits were a bit big for most of the kids, they crawled in and were assisted in zipping the suits right up over their chins. The kids would walk into the water, looking like zombies, and then sit down and paddle out on their backs. Some kids tried to sit or stand up in the water and discovered that the water would come in at the neck if they did. My daughter said trying out the emergency suits was the highlight of this trip, exclaiming as she crawled out of her suit, "I'm used to being freezing cold when I'm in the ocean, but I was warm and dry!"

Our trip coincided with some of the lowest and highest tides of the year, which made things more interesting:

This is someplace I could handle coming for a vacation, particularly since it is attached to the so-called 'road system': dirt roads led from the research facility to Jakalof Bay about 3/4 mile to the east, while Seldovia was about 2 1/2 miles to the west. From Seldovia another road goes to Port Grahm. Many people come over and go mountain biking on the trails and roads 'across the bay.' What impressed me most, though, was the quality of the facility. It was simple but comfortable and would be a conducive place to conduct research from.

Brother Francis Shelter-Anchorage

2011-04-21T11:35:00.012-08:00

I had the opportunity to tour the Brother Francis Shelter in Anchorage last week, one of the only homeless shelters in Anchorage (some provide shelter for only women, are transition housing as opposed to a homeless shelter, or participation in religious services of some sort are required). It was an interesting place to visit, and the need is great as 200-300 people a night are housed at the shelter and Beans Cafe.

The shelter is on 3rd Avenue, and when we pulled into the parking lot of the modern building, there was a crowd of men hanging out in the parking lot in front of Beans Cafe, across the parking lot from the Brother Francis Shelter. Free breakfast and lunch are provided daily at Beans Cafe, while a hot dinner is offered each night at the Shelter. Anyone could walk in and eat there, though each person has to sign in to keep track of numbers for grants.

The Brother Francis Shelter was built in 2005 and has a new, modern feel to it. The parking lot is paved, and the first smell upon walking into the building is bleach. A wide open reception area acts as the hub of this facility, with the dining area and kitchen beyond it to the right. After the evening meal the benches are folded up and sleeping mats are put down. Also off of the entryway are a computer lab and a laundry. Computers are for those staying or working in the shelter; people are allowed to play games with the logic that they need to become comfortable using technology and playing games facilitate this comfort.

Off the common area/dining room a clothing room was stacked with shoes, sweaters, pants, jackets, etc. The administrative assistant of the shelter who gave us the tour said the greatest need for clothing was hats, socks and undergarments, and they are always accepting donations. The clothing room is open for certain hours each day and visits are limited to 5 minutes.

A doctor's office/exam room is near the entrance as well, with shots being one of the common uses of this area. Behind that are the administrative offices. Ironically, no grant money is provided for homeless shelters, but monies are available for staffing them and providing assistance to people who walk in the doors. Thus, there were cubicles for about 8 support staff, not all who are necessarily full-time or employed by the shelter.

Lockers are available for workers at the shelter. Homeless people who come in can apply to work at the Brother Francis Shelter for 4-6 months. If they get a job there, they sleep there each night, but they also can receive mail, get a locker and stay in the building during the day. All other people must be out of the building by about 9 am each day (if my memory serves me right). Without these unpaid workers, the facility would not be able to keep its doors open. It is a win-win situation, with the people using the facility helping keep it running, and it provides a base for those people who are motivated to improve their situation.

There are women's and men's dorms, which are cleared out each morning. Another section of the shelter has apartments where people who are getting off drug or alcohol dependency can stay. There are specific requirements for these people to stay, and they are checked on regularly by paid staff. A storage room is also provided for people who cannot take their belongings with them each day.

This shelter is run by Catholic Social Services (See their website at http://www.cssalaska.org/html/programs/brother-francis.php), but the faith component is not 'pushed' as it is at some other local shelters. Some people end up at the shelter because they come in out of the bush, thinking there are plenty of jobs in Anchorage. Others come from the Lower 48, drawn by the allure of Alaska, also thinking there are plenty of jobs here. Yet others find that they cannot afford the exorbitant prices of housing when working on low wages. Life happens to others. No one under the age of 18 can stay at this shelter; a women's shelter provides housing for women with children (one had better not be a man with children, otherwise they will have a difficult time finding a place to go).

It gave me pause to visit the Brother Francis Shelter and contemplate the difficulties of being homeless in Alaska. I've seen plenty of people living out of their cars or in the parks around Anchorage; the Brother Francis Shelter provides a system that can help those who want to get out of that cycle of homelessness. There are opportunities available for food, shelter, mail, health care, clothing and more, all centered around this one building that is operating on a shoestring budget. I think a donation there could go a long ways.

McHugh Creek Hike--Anchorage

2011-04-21T10:07:00.006-08:00

Every time I drive from Anchorage to Homer, I gaze longingly at all the hiking trails along the Turnagain Arm. Last week I had some time on a beautiful, warm sunny morning since one of my meetings in Anchorage was canceled. I chose McHugh Creek for the hike because the parking area was well developed (4 restrooms on 3 different levels of paved parking!) and it is often packed when I drive by.

Apparently this is one trailhead of a trail system that extends the length of the Turnagin Arm. After a short climb above the parking area, the trail leveled out into a muddy morass. It was a cool morning so the mud was mostly frozen so it wasn't too bad. After 10 or 15 minutes of walking the trail turned into hard packed dirt for most of the rest of the way. I headed back towards Anchorage, in the direction of Potter's Marsh, which was 3 miles away. It was a pleasant hike, with poplar and aspen trees rising above the trail. Glimpses of Turnagain Arm were visible in places, including one rocky overlook about halfway to Potter's Marsh, but in the summer when the trees are all leafy I doubt there would be much view.

On this particular morning it must have been uber athlete morning. Two groups of amazingly fit women dashed by, first in one direction, then back. It is a great quick hike, since it is only a few miles south of where the Seward Highway freeway ends in Anchorage. Point-to-point hikes would be easy, parking in different lots and hiking (running!) from one end to the other. It costs $5 each time to park in one of these areas, or a year-long pass can be purchased for about $40. There are undeveloped pulloffs nearby so if someone were cheap they could park at one of these and walk up the road. I was surprised to see signs to lock up your car and hide valuables posted throughout the parking area; apparently these areas are a target.

I look forward to exploring more of this trail system when I'm up in the Anchorage area!

"The Dome" in Anchorage

2011-04-11T15:25:00.010-08:00

While Saturday in Anchorage was a nice day at about 45 degrees, today we've had 5-7 inches of snow fall. With conditions like this, it is no surprise that Anchorage has a dome for indoor track meets, soccer games and even football. Saturday was the first track meet of the season, with 31 schools participating in dozens of events over two days. As we were driving down Minnesota Dr., the dome rose above the mounds of gravel in the industrial section like a huge pile of manure. Taking the Raspberry Road exit, we pulled into a packed parking lot.

The dome is a plastic, pressurized, blown-up building. Special doors keep it pressurized, and Douglas even mentioned that his ears popped when we left the building. Inside there are a few offices and the just-over-a-1/4 mile track is right there. Stands about 10 benches high line one entire length of the building. A weight lifting area is tucked into one corner, while the high jumping, pole vaulting and 3 portapotties are tucked into another. Midfield, the teams were spread out, each one claiming a spot with sleeping bags, pillows and equipment set out. The shot put and discus were at the far end of the field, with netting protecting everyone from flying missiles.

I was impressed with the efficiency the meet seemed to be run with. Officials had their computers hooked up for photo finishes and timing; a number of people were hooked up with earpieces for communication with other officials; binoculars were out; on-track officials got race after race of kids lined up and out of the starting blocks. From looking at the schedule, it was running on time, quite a feat.

What probably impressed me most is what an advantage Anchorage athletes have over athletes from nearly every other community in Alaska to have the use of this dome. In Homer, the fields still have snow on them and the kids will be heading up to Anchorage this weekend to play the first soccer game of the season in this dome, and yet they have yet to run one lap up a field. They've been playing in gyms, like soccer players all over Alaska, while Anchorage players can be on turf all winter long. Yet this is still an awesome thing to have a dome so that playing can happen at all. Outdoor games in 30 or 40 degree weather and rain or snow are not fun (for most--some uber athletes in AK do love such challenges!).

A High School Dance

2011-04-03T08:43:00.004-08:00

Circumstances conspired to end me up at the high school chaperoning the Spring Fling dance last night. Having only been to three dances in my life, two of them proms, I was curious what it would be like. It was....a fascinating study into the lives of teenagers, dances and Homer High School.

I decided I wanted to be on the periphery, so I recruited a friend to run the coat check with me. We arrived 30 minutes before the dance was to start and placed sticky notes on the walls all around the office every three feet, each with a letter of the alphabet. When students arrived they would come up, we would write their last name on a sticky note, stick it to their coat, cell phone, boots or whatever, and put it in a pile under the letter of the last name. When kids want something (make a phone call, check their text, etc.) they would come and ask for their stuff. Jackets and purses are strictly prohibited in the dances. Cell phones are technically not allowed, but that is not strictly enforced. It was a cold, rainy night, so every single kid had a jacket so we stayed busy.

Once the students checked their items, they would get into line in the lobby to get into the dance. Every student has to sign a 2-page code of conduct in order to attend the dance. Some dances students from other high schools in the district are allowed to come (they still have to sign up, through a student in our high school), but this one was for Homer High students only. Upon paying their $7 to get in, each student would get a wristband with their name written on it. Then they were in. The dance started at 8 pm. If a student came in after 9 pm, we had to contact the principal or assistant principal for special permission to let them in, they would be searched and given a sobriety test. One student came in at 9:10. When told he would have to take a sobriety test to enter the dance, he chose to leave rather than be tested.

Students can go out of the building as far as the flagpole in front (about 20 feet). If they go beyond that at any time during the dance they cannot come back in. In other words, they cannot run out to their car for anything. One student wanted to run out to his car for something so the principal offered to walk him out to his car, but the student declined the offer.

The biggest issue with dances is dirty dancing, which is not allowed but in the past was not enforced. Some students are so outraged that they are not allowed to dirty dance (basically simulating sex positions and other intimate 'grinding' on the dance floor) that they told the principal they were not going to come to the dance. The principal just laughed and said, "I would be happy to stay home and hang out with my family." The principal and vice principal walk around the dance with a marker, flashlight and scissors. All chaperones also have markers. If a student is caught dirty dancing they get a black mark on their wristbands, which is their first warning. The second time they get another mark and they cannot dance anymore. Their wristband is cut off. They can stay in the dance area talking to friends, but they cannot dance. This time, parents of those students are going to get a letter home informing them that their student was kicked off the dance floor for dirty dancing. If a student is found back on the dance floor without a wristband they are kicked out of the dance. Before this year, there was no system for handling this issue. Students would be warned numerous times by different chaperones to not dirty dance, but there was no way to monitor it. This system has helped reduce this problem, though not eradicated it.

Dances are something the kids want and everyone else puts up with. They are a great source of income: last night's dance with 130 kids (about 1/3 of the school) brought in $1000, which goes into class coffers to pay for all the special senior events. Some dances have as many as 250 kids. The DJ is a talented Homer High School student who has most of his own equipment and travels around the Kenai Peninsula putting on dances for $250/night. Teachers and parents are recruited to be chaperones, and of course the principal and vice principal have to be there. Parents are welcome to come in and check on their kids, and parents do come in.

Walking around the building and checking out the parking lot is part of the job for my husband, and when he walks down to the parking lot, cars sometimes take off. It is part of the system for keeping the campus drug and alcohol free.

A big part of the fun of dances for the kids (at least the girls) seems to be the pre-dance dress-up party. We have hosted this twice now for our exchange student and her friends. We don't have a big house, so five girls running back and forth between bathrooms and bedroom, trying on clothes, changing their hair, putting on, taking off and and reapplying makeup is plenty. I have seen these parties get as many as 15 girls; I can't even imagine it. The pre-dance party culminates in the girls posing for pictures. They have names for all the various poses, and even if I don't understand what they are saying, all the kids know exactly what pose goes with each term. There's the prim and proper (these are my terms!), the sexy/provocative, the crazy, the tongues hanging out, and on and on. It is not proper to show up to the dance at 8; 8:45 is the 'correct' time to show up, though kids do trickle in before then.

Seeing what kids wear is fascinating. If guys dress up at all, I'd be surprised. Mostly they wear jeans and a button-up shirt, not tucked in. Usually girls wear very skimpy dresses that are about as low as you can go without showing all and and as high as you can go without showing all. The biggest challenge for the girls is keeping their clothes from falling off or falling apart during the dance. This dance was 'casual' so the dress was more varied for the girls: many short, short shorts, a variety of dresses, jeans, leggings and whatnot. A lot of make up seems to be standard. My husband wonders if the parents know what their kid is wearing at the dance (because of the pre-dance parties many parents don't see their kids before they go), and they have contemplated taking pictures of the kids as they walk in and emailing them to the parents! "Do you know what your child is wearing tonight?"

The most notable thing, though, is that all the kids are respectful, polite and do what they are told. Even the handful of kids who were kicked out of the dance were not rude. And some kids at Homer High are quite avant garde, yet other kids do not harass or pick on them. Mostly the kids seem to have the attitude that you can be who you want to be. Like my husband said, some of these kids would have been beaten up at the high school where he went to school, but here very different kids co-exist fairly peacefully.

Overall, it was quite an education. These are not something I would ever want to go to myself, and I deeply hope my kids never want to go to dances. There are so many other fun things to do with one's time than jump up and down (Homer's style of 'dancing', if you can call it that) with a hundred other teens in a dark room to deafening music. Give me a walk on the beach any day. Yet, on the scale of things, school dances are probably as 'clean' as you are going to get with the majority of teenagers today. It is better than having them out on Bishops Beach hanging around a campfire doing who knows what. But dances only happen five times a year so for five nights a year kids can have this fun, and the rest of us will put up with it!

Emergency Services

2011-03-11T18:57:00.004-09:00

A freak accident today brought me face to face with one aspect of Homer I'd never thought about before: its emergency medical services. Relegated to "A service I won't ever need," I appreciated the speed of response of the EMT's and ambulance. Here's what happened:

We were in the kitchen cooking when I noticed a pan of hot grease smoking. I grabbed it to move to a cool burner and the hot grease splashed my hand. After the most bloodcurdling scream I've ever screamed in my life, I immediately turned on the water and shoved my hand under the stream, told Aurora to call 911 and I proceeded to give the dispatcher the basic info of address, phone number and injury. I chuckled mentally when they asked for directions in addition to the address; the side streets around Homer are a maze and roads look like driveways or houses have no driveways or any other set of weird scenarios.

While waiting for the ambulance (which I thought was overkill but they have to send one) I called Douglas and left a message on his cell phone and then pulled off my wedding band, at which I sent up another scream as the skin sloughed off. I started feeling sweaty and woozy, and it seemed an eternity but was only minutes before Douglas called back and headed home and then a strange car came inching down our icy driveway. It was the first EMT on the scene. Within a minutes two more vehicles pulled up, spitting out EMTs, then my husband peeled in (wondering at the party with so many vehicles) and a minute or two after that the emergency medical truck and the ambulance completed the entourage.

EMTs number two and three assessed the burn and dressed it, we declined transport in the ambulance, filled out paperwork and hopped in the car to head to the hospital.

The emergency room was expecting us, got me right into a room, cut off the bandage, applied a moist saline covering to keep the burn from drying out and then the small town social whirl started.

First one of the nurses walked in and introduced herself as the neighbor across the street (one of the few neighbors we hadn't met), and by time she left we'd signed our kids up to mow her huge lawn come summer.

Then the doctor came in to assess the wound. When he found out Douglas is vice principal at the high school he said, "I need to talk to him." Apparently this doctor pledges money to Homer High School sports teams if the kids stay drug and alcohol free. We had a great conversation while he snipped away my sloughed skin and bandaged up my hand.

I put Douglas to the task of calling our church's prayer chain, his parents and my aunt to get them all praying, to me as essential as dressing the wound.

Before I left they'd made my appointment to see a family doctor tomorrow (yes, on Saturday!) to change my dressing and continue monitoring progress (the severity of a burn is not always immediately evident and I may need therapy to regain full range of motion). An hour in the emergency room ended up being a fast, fun social hour, not something one can normally say about ER visits. It helped that there was virtually no pain, a fact the attending nurse could not believe (she said I should be screaming in agony considering the severity of the burn).

I kept expecting the pain to hit all afternoon, but instead what little pain I had disappeared. I have now had the privilege to see up close what Homer's emergency services are like, and also what it is like to type an entire blog entry with one hand!

P.S. I assure you, you don't want a picture of this, though the hospital did take one!

The Iditarod Start!

2011-03-08T11:07:00.011-09:00

The start of the Last Great Race on Earth!
Iditarod #39!

We've had things going on every year during the Iditarod start, but this year we committed to going despite basketball regionals going on in Homer. We left Douglas and Aurora to the basketball games and headed up to Anchorage Friday. I opted to stay in the Sheraton in downtown Anchorage since it was only two blocks away from 4th Avenue that the Iditarod racers would be heading down for the ceremonial start on Saturday.

I didn't see many signs of the upcoming race until nearly 10:00 p.m. Friday night when I looked out the 14th floor window and noticed dump trucks full of snow rolling in, dumping their loads on 4th Avenue, and taking off. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, with the excitement building for the upcoming race. I pondered how the mushers must feel, knowing the big moment had nearly arrived to hit the trail.

Saturday morning when I looked out the window the course was set, a swatch of snow a foot or so deep with extra ridges on the outside to keep the dogs and sleds on track. The intersection a block from the Sheraton was covered with snow and monitored by police and snow shovelers, allowing traffic through.

We got down to 4th Avenue at almost 10 am, where the course makes a 90 degree turn onto C Street. Before we knew it, a dogsled and team came sliding by. I thought perhaps it was just a forerunner, but come to find out that was the first racer. Soon a steady stream of racers came by; they were set to start every two minutes. There were 60+ racers, so that was a few hours of starts.

We made our way through the ever-thicker crowds closer to the starting line, passing a parking garage lined with fans. We arrived at the starting line but could hardly see anything with the crowds four deep, but some people left and we got a front-row view just as Lance Mackey, the winner of the past four Iditarods, came up to the line, got his dogs ready and took off. He looked much more human (!!) than the videos I'd seen of him out on the race course in previous years, but after 2 weeks on the trail, sleep deprived and weathered, I'm sure he'll be roughed up! That was the highlight of the day for me.

After seeing a few starts we continued up 4th Aveune in an attempt to stay warm and to check out the staging area. Temperatures were at 3 degrees and calm at 10 am, and had warmed up to 9 degrees an hour later as the sun rose above the buildings. I had on my balaclava, hat, neckwarmer, hood, two pairs of gloves, two pairs of socks and numerous layers on my torso so I was mostly comfortable, though Elisa wore only holey jeans and a couple pairs of tights so she was a bit chillier.

I found the staging area neater than the starting line and race itself. Here we were closer to the dogs and the handlers, though there was still a fence dividing the fans from the racing volunteers, dog trucks and handlers. All the side streets were covered with snow and dogs were in various stages of getting ready for the race: chained to the bumpers of trucks, drinking, sitting inside their hay-lined nooks or being harnessed up.

It was really exciting to be at the starting of the Iditarod. I've watched so many movies, read about, talked about and seen the dogs and racers around the state that it seemed like it was the place to be. The ceremonial start was just a 15 mile jog up to Eagle River; many people headed up there to see the dogs and mushers come in, and then on to the re-start on Sunday at Willow. We were on a tight schedule and so didn't make it up to either of those. Next time I think I will become a race volunteer so I get on the inside track of pre-race gatherings, parties and whatnot. Even though we just saw a tiny slice of the Iditarod, it still was thoroughly exciting to be there and be part of it and for the first time I am following the racers with their GPS trackers through the official Iditarod website, http://www.iditarod.com/.

Foreign Exchange Students in Homer

2011-02-22T14:00:00.014-09:00

Saturday evening Douglas and I headed up to Harmon's Barn, the local meeting place for fundraisers and other local events, for an ethnic dinner made and presented by local foreign exchange students. Sponsored by AFS Intercultural Programs, five of the six local exchange students helped decorate the barn (a crude word for a delightful and tastefully decorated place), prepare and serve the food and give presentations about their countries. Four of the students present were with AFS, here from Indonesia, Egypt and Kenya (2 students). One was through Cultural Homestay International (CHI) from Mexico and one from Japan through another program. The Rotary exchange student from Saudi Arabia was not present. Many of the 40-50 attendees were past or present exchange student host families or support host families.

Izzy from Kenya was the emcee for the evening, dressed in his traditional garb. He displayed an amazing finesse in that role, particularly considering that he'd volunteered for the position only a week before and didn't even know what an emcee did before he volunteered! Each course of the meal was presented and the students from that country explained the food and gave a PowerPoint presentation with photos and highlights from their countries. A ten minute intermission between each presentation allowed us to eat and chat.

Zumma from Kenya started off the evening, sharing about the shocking high prevalence of AIDS in Kenya. Sambusa was one of the appetizers, along with fuul from Egypt and ikura from Japan.

Next Selma from Egypt presented, sharing pictures and perspectives on life and politics in Egypt.

Ella from Indonesia shared a bit about life in the 4th most populous country on earth, a country that is composed of 17,000 islands. She had full traditional garb on, and treated us to satay: gado-gado, coconut milk rice and dendeng.

While we ate dessert (basbousa from Egypt, chai tea from Kenya and halawa labanieh from Saudi Arabia) Eri from Japan and Elisa from Mexico presented about their countries, and on request by the audience our MC, Izzy, spoke about his life in Kenya.

Selma presented a belly dance, sharing that 'all the girls' in Egypt 'know how to do this.'

Finally, Ella sang and danced a traditional dance that is done at weddings and other special occasions.

It was a fun and fascinating evening, with tasty food and enjoyable company. Part of the fun was watching the exchange students and pondering how 'American' many of them seemed, despite their accents. Many people have told us that Elisa, the girl from Mexico that lives with us, looks 'just like an American.' When people say that I puzzle over it, wondering just what an 'American' looks like. To me, American is any and every culture, yet these students are proud of their heritage as much as they love Alaska.

Most students commented about the adjustment to a "small town" and "cold", laughing about what these terms meant and how their families back home couldn't conceive how cold it gets in Homer and what snow is like. It wasn't necessarily an easy adjustment. All of the exchange students who were at the dinner skied on Homer High School's cross-country ski team and a couple had raced in regionals earlier that day, wrapping up their season. Their willingness to try something different that would push them out of their comfort zone is one thing that sets exchange students apart from others who don't uproot themselves for a year. Without that willingness to experience things, it would be a long, long year.

A Note From Your Alaska Blogger

2011-01-06T10:19:00.005-09:00

Many of my regular blog readers noticed that I took a few months off last fall from blogging. After three years of nearly weekly blog entries, it was a radical departure from my norm. I was happy to hear (actually!) that my blogging was missed, as I got emails, Christmas cards and word-of-mouth messages wondering what was wrong or what was going on.

Well, what was going on (now that I have a chance to breathe!) was LIFE! It seems that with teaching college classes, homeschooling my kids, having an exchange student (in high school...in sports...), and teaching and directing the faith formation program at our church, that all my time was tied up. From mid-August through October the harvest takes up any spare time I might have. Berries begin to ripen in August. This year the raspberry crop was tremendous and we had so many in and around our yard--many more than we could ever pick--so if I had 20 minutes here or there I would dash out and pick. Or else we would head out for a weekend of camping and berrypicking somewhere on the Peninsula. Or the onions, carrots, and potatoes were ready to pull in before the ground froze. Then we had 800 apples to harvest from our 2 apple trees. Even once the things were picked, I didn't have enough time to process them, so once everthing was 'in' I began to clean, chop, freeze or can.

There was a moment back in November at about 10 a.m. on a Thursday morning that I felt a tremendous sense of relief: I sensed I was over the worst of the craziness of the fall. Everything from the harvest that needed (really needed) to be 'put up' was put up. I snuck in a blog entry that day, excited to be 'back.' Yet I only managed to write another few entries between then and now. Life keeps happening.

When we first moved to Alaska the pace of life was slower. We didn't have a lot of friends, we lived way out of town so didn't run in and out much, the kids weren't in so many activities and neither were we. At the time I just regarded that as "life in Alaska," but now I know better. Life in Alaska can certainly be as busy and crazy as life everywhere else in the world. Pace of life is a choice of activities. Some people complain that there's not that much to do in Homer. Yet for us we have to choose between two or even three different activities going on at the same time some days. Do we go to this movie fundraiser or this sporting event or head out of town for a trip with friends? Or do we go to this concert or just take a few hours off and go home and read a book and chill? Many times I have to drop off one kid, pick up the next, run them home, drop off another kid, then start picking them up, glad to be home by 8 with the running done for the day.

On top of the busy-ness is the 'normalcy' of Alaska now. It has taken me three years to get to the point that what happens here is the 'norm' that I compare the rest of the world to. When I went back to Michigan for Christmas it was Michigan that was different, not Alaska that was different. And yet the biggest difference that I noticed was just the prices of things (waaaaay cheaper!), and everything else just seemed like life...in a different place.

My apologies for leaving you out cold for three months with no news on life from Alaska. If I do it again, it is probably for lack of exciting things to blog about (9 months of the year it's all about school stuff) or lack of time to write. I try not to be repetitious, and we have our favorite spots we go back to and enjoy again and again now. No need to bore you with that again...

Meanwhile, thanks for reading, thanks for your comments, and enjoy!

Ice, Ice, Ice!

2011-01-06T09:38:00.005-09:00

One of the standards of living in Homer is the ice. Oftentimes for months at a time there will be 6 inches or more of ice coating all the side roads on the 'bench' (below the ridge that rises above Homer). This seems to be caused by a combination of factors. Because we are at sea level, the temperatures often warm up at some point after it snows (or else it rains instead of snows) and the snow begins to melt. Also, all of the roads below the bench are south-facing and sloped. Water runs off the ridge, heading to the sea, and it freezes into thick swaths of ice. Oftentimes there will be fields covered in thick swabs of ice as the water ran down the slope and froze.

A few days ago my husband and I walked the loop near where we live, with trails connecting between roads. What is normally a boggy trail was transformed into a thick ice trail. Luckily we had our Yak-traks on, otherwise we would not have been able to make it without a number of falls, especially as there were uphills and downhills. And in some places the ice encased the bases of the trees, several feet thick.

Most of the winter our driveway looks much like this: a sheet of ice that requires careful maneuvering and caution and that gets covered with stud skid marks, indication that our studs are doing their job.

When I first moved to Homer I swore I would never live in this area where the roads are so icy, but here I am, living on the bench and dealing with ice daily. It is not as bad as I thought it would be. One learns to live with ice as one learns to live with snow or the cold or whatever other conditions face us!

Visit to Barrow

2010-11-23T19:27:00.007-09:00

As principal at the local high school, my husband gets the opportunity to travel with sports teams, acting as the official liaison for the district and preventing problems that might occur with students. Last week when the wrestling traveled to Barrow for 4 days, Douglas ended up going with.

It was a process getting there, with a cargo plane ride from Homer to Anchorage to Prudhoe Bay to Barrow (the flights up to Prudhoe Bay were full, shuttling oil field workers back and forth). Just a few days before Douglas got there it was 50 degrees below zero, but he lucked out and it was 15 to 30 above the 4 days he was there--the same temperatures as Homer. The current principal at Homer High School was principal in Barrow for two years. He said that when it was 50 below, the two block walk from the airport to the high school was the longest walk he has ever taken in his life. Douglas was prepared with long underwear, coveralls, boots and all sorts of cold weather gear and was fortunate in not needing it.

The sun didn't rise the whole time Douglas was there, and the brightest it got was a mid-evening twilight (I lightened my pictures so they represent how dark it was). The school took the 6 or 7 wrestling teams that were there on a tour of the town. Pictured above is the sign at the highest latitude of land in the U.S. Behind it is the Arctic Ocean. The football field was under snow, which was a bummer because we've heard much about this high-tech wonder.

All of the buildings are built on stilts to prevent the thawing of the permafrost. Douglas described Barrow as "Any American town, a little run-down fishing village." There are 4 schools serving the 5000 or so people in Barrow: 2 elementaries, a middle school and high school. When sports teams come the high school houses them and feeds them, slightly alleviating the huge expense of getting there (approximately $1000 per ticket round trip, Homer to Barrow).

There was one store, with clothes, groceries, 4-wheelers and everything else sold in it. Prices were about 20% or more higher than Homer (which is already 20-50% higher than the Lower 48. For example, a can of soup was $3. A 5 pound bag of fresh apples and oranges was $14. A small container of laundry detergent was $15. Electricity, on the other hand, is relatively cheap because they pump the natural gas out of the ground and right into their generators.

As they were leaving, one of the coaches asked a local if they had some muk-tuk the kids could try. The lady said a whale had just been harvested and the blubber had been shipped in. She gave him a 10 pound box of muk-tuk. He shared it with the staff back at Homer. It was very chewy--impossible to bite off a piece in fact. A lady mentioned to me that her husband worked in Barrow and he would chew on two little pieces of muk-tuk and it had enough energy to last him for hours (despite that he lost 40 pounds while working in the 50 below weather). What you see pictured below is about four inches long. The dark part is the whale skin. I chewed on a piece like this for a minute or two this afternoon. Seven hours later, even after eating lunch and dinner, the taste of the muk-tuk is still in my mouth. It reminds me of a buttery flavor. I can understand how this would be a staple in the Eskimo diet. It is pure energy and it lasts a long time. I can also see why the Eskimo's teeth would get worn down from such a diet.

Ice Skating Beluga Lake

2010-11-22T07:30:00.004-09:00

In 3 years of living here, we've never gotten to Beluga Lake in Homer during the 3-5 day window in early winter when the lake freezes over and the ice is perfect for skating. This year, despite having to play musical skates (both our kids outgrew their ice skates, plus we have our exchange student to fit with skates), I was determined to make it out on the lake to skate.

As you can see, it is a good sized lake, and nearly the entire surface was smooth as an indoor skating rink. It was glorious, skating along, completely free, with the sunshine and mountains and a huge expanse of smooth ice. We went skating every day for the past 3 days, and at times there were over 100 people on the ice, but it never felt crowded with so much space to spread out.

From here on out, we will make sure we get out on the lake for the few days a year when it is skateable!

High School Sports In Alaska: What a Trip!

2010-11-11T11:17:00.003-09:00

Two events have changed our perspective this fall: my husband got the assistant principal job at Homer High School and we got an exchange student from Mexico. Both of these events have initiated us into a new group: high school sports.

Anywhere else, kids just hop on a bus and ride to their destination. In Alaska, if schools in the bush (not on the road system) want to have sports, they must get other teams to come and play them, in addition to getting out of the bush to go play other teams. Plus, the distance between schools can be immense. The Kenai Peninsula School District requires an administrator be at nearly every home sports event as well as some of the larger away events. Thus, Douglas ended up traveling nearly every weekend from mid-August through October for sports. Our exchange student, who was in swimming, traveled a great deal too. Here are some of their adventures in the name of high school sports.

Kodiak is an island 45 minutes away by plane and 9 hours away by ferry (on a good day, or depending on whether you're going with or against the winds and tide). Kodiak's football program is relatively new. In order to be part of the conference, they have to help pay for teams to come play them. This year they wanted to go cheap and make the Homer football team take the ferry both ways. This would have meant the students would have to take a bus to Whittier to get on the ferry, take the ferry to Kodiak, and then take the ferry back. They would have missed 3 days of school for a Saturday game to make all the connections. After much negotiation, they flew there but took the ferry back.

Even taking the ferry back can be quite an ordeal. They had to be at the ferry terminal 2 hours before casting off, which was 9 p.m. They were supposed to get out of the harbor at 11, but the ferries carry freight, and the day the football team was heading home it took an extra 2 hours to unload and load the freight, so they didn't even get out of harbor till after 1 a.m. The kids were sprawled all over the ship in any comfortable place they could find. There are often a number of different sports teams or groups on the ship at any given time. At noon the next day, the team arrived in Homer. With a plane ride they would have been home the evening before, but the cost was prohibitive for a team of 40.

The next weekend Douglas got to spend 5 days going to a volleyball tournament in Cordova. The kids took a bus to Whittier, hopped on the ferry for what is normally a short ride to Cordova, but the ferry had to stop by Valdez to pick up volleyball players so that added a few hours to the ride both ways. Once, teams from an entire tournament got stuck in Cordova for a week because of bad weather, and some administrators were ecstatic to get cots in the water treatment plant. The little town wasn't equipped handle that many people for that long.

This year swimming regionals were in Kodiak, so the swim/dive team had to figure out how to get their entire team to Kodiak, house them and transport them. All the other teams on the Kenai Peninsula had to do the same. The swim team coaches opted to charge the students $300 to go to Kodiak, which was basically their plane ticket, and fundraising paid for the housing and transportation. Some kids didn't go because their families couldn't afford it.

Nearly every swim meet that was more than 4 hours away (there are only a few high schools of Homer's size that are closer than Anchorage), students had to pay $50-$60 for the hotel and then they were on their own for meals. This adds up. Our exchange student probably spent $600 or more to swim this year.

Next week Douglas is going to go to Barrow with the Homer wrestling team. He has to figure out when he needs to be there, find connecting flights from Homer to Anchorage to Fairbanks to Barrow. At this point all the hotels in Barrow are full the first night he is supposed to be up there so he has to find a place to stay....somehow, somewhere. Hopefully all the flights won't be full by the time he makes his reservations.

When teams travel, sometimes a the hosting school is willing to house them and even feed them. Homer is good about that: this past weekend they hosted a wrestling tournament for 11 schools from all over the state. All the teams stayed in the high school. When the volleyball team went to Cordova the school there fed all the teams breakfast each day. This relieves the fundraising burden, and as well as family finances, but it is partly because many communities don't have fast food restaurants or other quick food options.

Now our exchange student is on the cross-country ski team. Parents are required to help volunteer and fundraise. The athletes themselves must volunteer at least 10 hours to fundraising during the season, and a chart in the locker room keeps track of their progress. That is on top of training and waxing their skis, never mind about homework. Sports become their life.

I am blown away by the commitment of families to their kids' sports. In Homer High School, 60% of the students participate in sports (not counting other extracurricular activities). Some students are in 3 different sports. I can't even begin to imagine how expensive that could get. This year we have been initiated into this culture, both from an administrator's perspective and as parents. It makes my head swim to think about it, and I don't know if I'm glad that I now know what is in store for me in a few years when I'll have two kids in high school!

Putting Up the Rope: Ohlson Mountain Rope Tow

2010-11-11T10:37:00.009-09:00

We got dumped with nearly three feet of snow this past weekend in the Homer area, so downhill skiing and snowboarding enthusiasts were itching to get the Ohlson Mountain Rope tow up and running to take advantage of the unseasonably early snowfall. We are friends with people who are friends with some of the Ohlson Mountain organizers (sounds like a small town thing) so we got a call Sunday that the rope tow was going to go operational. It sounded like an interesting Sunday afternoon expedition, so despite the snowstorm we packed up our vehicle with snowshoes, sleds, snowboards, downhill and cross-country skis, warm clothes and snacks and headed out to Ohlson Mountain.

Luckily the plow had just come through on Ohlson Mountain Road, otherwise it would have been a treacherous drive. As it was, even the parking area for the rope tow had been plowed out (with snowbanks about 4 feet high--as deep as they were much of last winter!). We unloaded our equipment of choice: snowshoes, sleds and snowboards were on our list for the first foray. We dumped all our things in the warming hut and left the kids there to haul firewood into the warming hut and to play.

The adults, about 7 of us plus a couple who had been planning on skiing, grabbed the thick pads that are attached to the rope tow poles. We got those snapped on and headed up the slope on snowshoes. The snow was mid-thigh to nearly waist deep in places and the incline near the top is steep, making for a tricky climb. I was gasping for breath and sweating most of the way and was immensely relieved to get to the top.

There we were met with a huge pile of rope that needed to be dragged down the mountain and then threaded onto the rope tow machinery. After figuring out which was the top rope and which was the bottom, each person grabbed a section of the rope and started dragging it down the mountain. Ladders were found to climb the poles. Luckily we had a couple young guys who were willing to climb them with the heavy, frozen rope over their shoulders and heave them onto the wheels. Each time they climbed, the rest of us would pull the rope to give them enough slack to get the rope up, with at least one of us holding the ladder to stabilize it for the climber.

It was a messy process carrying the ladders through the deep snow from pole to pole, setting them up, getting enough slack for the person to carry the rope up the pole and then moving on to the next one. We got into the rhythm of it, though, and the project was completed in a little over two hours.

Much to the kids' disappointment, the snow was too deep to snowboard well. The couple on skis were able to get to the top of the hill where it was steeper, but they were having a hard time turning in thick, waist-deep snow. They looked like they were swimming. The kids weren't able to make it very high on the slope (it takes considerable strength to hold onto the rope tow, and it seems to take specific muscles, as attested by our upper body soreness at the beginning of every rope tow season) so they ended up boarding down on the rope area where they came up.

After a week of compacting, we're hoping that the snow conditions will be better this weekend! One of my friends posted pictures (better than mine!) on his Facebook. I will include the link here (not sure if it is public or private; you'll find out!): http://www.facebook.com/#!/album.php?aid=2101590&id=1210874850&fbid=1722964833205

Crow Pass-Eagle Eye Retreat

2010-08-15T16:10:00.016-08:00

Fr. Nathan from Ohio is the founder of the Eagle Eye Retreats which he puts on for young adults around the country each summer. This is his third year leading a backpacking retreat in Crow Pass.

Each year a couple of monks come up to Girdwood (one from Ohio and one from overseas) and lead the Eagle Eye Retreat for 18-40ish year olds. It begins with 4 days of backpacking Crow Pass, 26 miles from Girdwood to Eagle River. Then there is an additional 3 days of theology and education at the Our Lady of the Snows Chapel in Girdwood, interspersed with hiking and socialization. Last year my husband and I did the 3 days of theology; this year I wanted to do the Crow Pass hike with the group but my husband couldn't make it. We managed to swing it for me. It was the best retreat I've been on in many years.

Nearly everyone on this hike was from the Lower 48 and had never backpacked before in their life. This made me one of the more experienced people in the group. I was also one of the oldest people, and I was the only mother in the group of 19 people. The retreat organizers spent $600 on food for 19 people for 4 days. Everything was weighed (2 pounds of food per day per person) and was all add-water-only food. Each person carried their own supplies and food. There were 3 campstoves for the group plus fuel, which were dispersed among everyone. Nine tents housed 17 people, with the 2 guides sleeping under a tarp.We packed up and slept in a school Sunday night and headed to the trailhead in Girdwood Monday morning after mass.

The first day was a relatively easy hike for me: 3-4 miles, 2000-2500 foot climb up to the summit of Crow Pass. (I got different answers from various people on distances and elevations, thus the approximations.) When backpacking I am used to grueling 8-14 mile hikes, so 4 miles was a piece of cake even though I had a 45-50 pound pack on my back. I was just getting warmed up when they said we were camping at the top of the pass for the night. The only wildlife we saw that first day was 4 sheep far off on a mountainside.

The group coming off of Raven Glacier.

We set up our tents, and then headed to the Raven Glacier about a mile further along the trail. Our guide, Beav, has experience ice and rock climbing among other adventures, so he took us out onto the glacier. Apparently last year the group could walk comfortably all over the glacier, but this year it was icy (I know, that sounds silly, but the surface of glaciers are not consistently the same) so we settled for a short expedition, cautiously choosing our footing and avoiding crevasses and black ice under the gravel.

The weather continued to deteriorate from cloudy to windy to windier, with the cloud cover lowering and misty rain covering us. I put on layer after layer, finally ending up with a thermal undershirt, long sleeve thermax shirt, short sleeve shirt, rain jacket and wool-lined rain/wind jacket. On the bottom half I had 3 layers on. On my head I had my bandana, winter hat and rain hood. At times I was still shivering.

At the top of Crow Pass near where we were camping there is an A-frame and doorless pit toilet, the only "facilities" the entire length of the trail. We women-folk took turns holding the door closed for each other (we were above treeline and there really was no out-of-sight spot in the area). Dinner warmed us, and then we had a group discussion about the use of technology in our lives. For bedtime, each person got their water bottle filled with hot water to put in their sleeping bag. I had the misfortune to have my water bottle leak, scalding the bottom my foot and soaking my pants, socks and sleeping bag. It was a slightly uncomfortable night with the wind howling and tents flapping.

Next morning we were up early, got breakfast, said morning prayers and headed out down the trail, retracing our steps towards the Raven Glacier. Past the glacier the trail began to descend, crossing several snowfields. We saw two bear foraging on a distant hillside and we began to see bear tracks on the muddy trail. We took frequent breaks (again, by my standards), taking our time. We had 8 miles to go that day, down to the Eagle River. We saw numerous marmots and tundra squirrels, and were blessed to see a moose with a huge rack napping in a field (In 3 years in Alaska I have only seen a moose with a rack that size once before). The trail had pushki, alders and other shrubs hanging over it, and there were some muddy spots, but overall it was a pretty good trail.
At the Eagle River we decided to stop for the night rather than cross the river and push on another mile to Thunder Gorge. A group was put in charge of building an altar of rocks, decorating the cross of branches we'd made the first day and had been carrying. Everyone else set up their tents, set up the group tarp, gathered water for dinner and otherwise helped out. We had evening prayer and mass and turned in. There were 4 bear scats in the vicinity of our camping area, so we put our food out of the way (no trees to speak of to hang the food from) at night.

The next morning we had morning prayer and mass and then got ready for the river crossing. Most of the group seemed nervous about it. Beav gave us instructions for how to cross (3 or 4 abreast, arms locked, with the upstream and downstream people with poles, and with packs unclipped in case we fell). We had to head slightly downstream to the white post, cross a gravel bar, then cross a couple more side streams to the white post on the far side. The water was up to mid-thigh on most of us, and the rocks underwater were large, making footing tricky. In addition, the water is fresh from the Eagle Glacier a few miles upstream, so it was extremely cold. When everyone had crossed there was a great deal of enthusiasm, and most everyone agreed it wasn't as bad as they thought it would be.

Day 3 was a long 8 miles following the Eagle River downstream. There were many streams to cross, and there were ladders to climb and ropes to hold onto. The trail went up and down as it followed the contours of the land. In one place there is an upper and lower trail, with either being acceptable routes. The lower route was washed right out--gone--and quite recently from what our guide said (he'd hiked the trail just a few weeks prior and it was still there then). Thus we followed the upper trail, picking our way across the base of talus slopes.

We ended up camping on a gravel bar at the confluence of 2 rivers that night, in sight of the Eagle Glacier. It was bittersweet, with many retreatants feeling sad that their Alaskan backpacking adventure was about to end. A group of girls, rebelling against the lack of showers, washed their hair in the glacial river, joking about "glacial facials." Sharing time that night was insightful and special, creating strong bonds of caring and friendship. The weather was relatively warm (only 2 layers instead of 4 or 5) and there was no wind or rain, making it an enjoyable evening at camp besides some bugs.

Thursday morning we took our time getting up, packing up and hitting the trail. More river crossings were on the docket for the day. It was a fairly easy 6 miles in to the Eagle River Nature Center, with the last 3 or 4 being on wider, hard-packed trails. The berries were ripe along this section, so I was grabbing raspberries, blueberries, high bush cranberries and watermelon berries as I walked. The final couple miles to the end it began to rain, though not hard enough to drench us. We were relieved to finally reach the nature center and civilization.

Busses and private vehicles transported everyone back to the school where they picked up extra gear, and then we headed to a chalet in Girdwood where we were staying. Showers were welcome, as was a hot dinner of grilled chicken and corn on the cob. Everyone felt a sense of accomplishment and was filled with the beauty of Alaska. It made me appreciate the beauty that surrounds me every day as everyone was ooooohing and aaaaaaahhhhing over things that are a regular part of my life now.

I had to admire our guide for being willing to take 19 mostly-green backpackers on a 4-day, 26-mile trip. Some of the people had never been out of a city before in their lives, never seen berries, never exercised. And yet no one complained. There were smiles and small kindnesses shared the whole way, with stories and laughter standard fare. It filled me up in a way that conventional retreats don't, and I found myself aching to be back with the group the past few days since the hike ended. It was a special time.

Grace Ridge--Kachemak Bay State Park

2010-08-02T21:01:00.007-08:00

Grace Ridge, an 8.2 mile hike, climbs and then follows this ridge above Sadie Cove and Tutka Bay.

A friend emailed me the other day and asked me if I wanted to do a hike across the bay. After the usual calendar check, I was like, "Sure!" Grace Ridge was our destination, an 8.2 mile point-to-point hike off of Tutka Bay. Sadie Cove, as seen from Grace Ridge.

A couple from Miami, Florida and a local guide were also doing the hike that day so we all got in the water taxi for True North Kayak Adventures, swapping stories on the 30-40 minute ride over to Tutka Bay. We were dropped on a gravel beach, one of many that dot the shores of Kachemak Bay. The bright orange triangular T sign marked the trailhead. We started climbing. Three hours and 3150 feet later we reached the top.

Tutka Bay

The trail was a nice singletrack, not too muddy, with blueberries lining the lower reaches of the trail and fresh berry-filled bear scat punctuating our walk at regular intervals. It was a 1700 foot climb to reach the alpine where snow patches, marmots, and alpine blueberry plants abounded. As we climbed to the ridge clouds enveloped the peak so we were afraid we weren't going to get a good view. Eventually the clouds blew over so we were able to see Sadie Cove to our left and Tutka Bay to our right, thousands of feet below us.

The ridge went on and on, 3.6 miles to be exact, climbing peaks then descending saddles between them. At some points the ridge was a razor edge with steep dropoffs on each side of us. Mostly it was a pretty easy walk, though, and the views were stupendous. Once the clouds even thinned enough to see Mt. Illiamna in the distance. We were surprised at how much volcanic ash was still sitting in piles all over the ridge, thinking at first it was a fine mud but then realizing what it was.

As we got to the end of the ridge and headed down, the salmonberry plants, skunk cabbage and pushki hung over the trail, making it difficult to see where we were going. The sun came out in full force and roasted us, but we wore long pants anyways as pushki protection.

We managed to hike the 8.2 miles in 6 1/2 hours (the hike estimate is 6-8 hours). On the uphill and downhills we kept up a steady pace, while we dillydallied along the ridge, stopping to eat twice, take pictures, and talk, which only gave us a little bit of time to spare for our boat pickup at 5:00.

On the way back our boat captain got a call and he made a detour over to one of the gravel beaches. As he pulled up we saw a dog whose collar had gotten caught to a bouy. He was stuck, and it was too far out for the woman to swim to, well over her head and with large waves breaking. Two toddlers were watching as we unhooked the dog from the bouy, hauled him on board and took him to shore. He was petrified and didn't want to jump down so we had to push him off where his owned thanked us profusely. Apparently she'd called one of the water taxi companies or someone in Homer and our boat was the closest so we were able to get there quickly and save him.

The company was the highlight of this hike--but the views were tremendous and it was a great training hike for me as I am doing a 26 mile backpacking trip in a week so I'd carried a 25 pound pack. If I were to do it again I would like more time before taxi pickup so I could pick berries, but it turned out to be just about right for the hiking part of it. I would not have wanted to do it if the cloud cover was low or it was rainy; along the ridge there is no obvious trail and I wouldn't want to chance missing the trail down.

Rock Climbing at Kachemak Crack

2010-07-29T20:32:00.014-08:00

The view from Left Beach in Halibut Cove, Kachemak Bay, looking across to Homer (we live about in the middle of the pictured area) with umiak in foreground.

A month ago Aurora went across Kachemak Bay with a group of kids on a HoWL (Homer Wilderness Leadership) rock climbing camp. When I saw the pictures it was with a mixture of awe and excitement that I gazed at the size of the cliffs she climbed. Last week Aurora's climbing instructor from Homer Community Schools called us up to see if we were interested in heading over to Kachemak Crack for 3 days of camping and rock climbing. Heck, yes, we were! He finagled a boat ride over for us and at 6:30 a.m. on Monday we were on our way across the bay, a quick 30-minute, 6-mile hop to Left Beach.

While HoWL was fun for Aurora, most of the climbers were neophytes and not at her level of climbing, and when climbing with a group a lot of time is spent waiting for others to finish their climbs. Fuzzy, Aurora's climbing instructor, challenges her more and gave her some awesome climbing experiences. Meanwhile, Denver and I got in our share of climbs and we were both proud of our showing.

The first morning was a heavily overcast rainy day with rain in the forecast for the next 5 days. We got to our drop-off point on Left Beach in Halibut Cove and were glad to see Fuzzy come down to the shore to help us offload the boat. He had kayaked over the day before since the weather was good. He had a fire going under a rock overhang so we set up our camp chairs and hunkered down to wait out the rain. By noon it had stopped and by midafternoon the rocks were dry enough to climb so he and Aurora got started setting up the ropes for the classic Kachemak Crack climb--the easiest of the 4 climbs.

Setting up was easy, with Aurora playing out rope as Fuzzy freeclimbed to the chain at the top. Then Aurora climbed as Fuzzy top belayed her. Denver and I each took our turns on this climb. It is a really fun one because the holds are large and there are many of them--seeming almost to be wherever you need one by your hands or feet. The rock is a very slight lean away from the climber so it is easy to maneuver.

Day 2 was a long, grueling day for Aurora and Fuzzy, as it took 3 hours to set up the Salty Dawg using a 2 stage setup, with Aurora doing a climbing belay for Fuzzy from mid-way. This was a more dangerous climb because while there were bolts to anchor the rope as you climbed up, they were spaced far enough apart that if the lead climber were to fall they would hit the rocks before the bolt would catch them. Aurora was on belay at the bottom to hold the rope should Fuzzy fall and also to play out the rope as Fuzzy climbed and needed more. The climbing belay halfway was a new experience for Aurora. When it was over they each got to rappel down, which can be as exciting as one wants to make it. Denver got maybe a third of the way up the Salty Dawg before he got stuck by one particularly challenging spot, and I got stymied at the same place.

Day 3 Denver was fresh and he made it to the top of the Salty Dawg, a 120 foot climb. It was awesome to watch him. I made it maybe 5 feet higher than I had the day before but that one spot got me and my arms and hands were so tired I didn't think I could make that one unless I was fresh. Then we moved the rope over to the crackhead jam, a challenging climb with an overhang. Aurora didn't make it her first time up, fell a bunch of times (the belayer catches the fall, but with an overhang it can be a pain to get back onto the rock face and much energy is spent climbing a previously climbed spot), and finally took a break, totally spent. I played on the classic Kachemak Crack and Denver attempted the crackhead jam, making it up as high as Fuzzy had, about halfway.

Come evening we got Aurora to give the crackhead jam a second try. She was very tired, but all Fuzzy had to say was, "It's your call," and she pulled on her harness and shoes. The previous climb she had discovered the move she needed to make to get over the overhang, and as she put it, "It's all mental. I had to stick my fingers in the crack and get over the fear that I wouldn't be able to get them out. Once I did that it was easy." Ha. It was a nail-biter for me, sitting on the ground. I was cheering Aurora on as much as I would at any championship basketball game. It was incredible to see her make moves on what appear to be no holds. When she made it over crucial spots I had tears in my eyes. It was an unbeatable experience.

Besides the climbing, there was plenty of other entertainment. We were camping right next to 20 Alaskan Natives (girls) from all over the state, and the next beach over there were 20 Natives (boys). The groups had built authentic umiaks, the type of boats Natives used to hunt whales in up along the Bering Sea, and each morning they would paddle off, returning in the evening.

Denver would search for mussels on the rocks during low tide and cooked them up for each meal, relishing every bite and generously sharing with Fuzzy and the rest of us.

One evening while out walking during low tide a plane took off nearly over our heads right on the beach, then swooped around and nearly touched the ground in a show-off stunt. We also encountered a dead sea otter on the beach.

Fuzzy has kayaked from Homer all the way around the Kenai Peninsula to Seward, Valdez and Cordova (you might need to look at a map to realize how far that is!) and regaled us with stories of meeting whales, storms and all sorts of adventures kayaking, as well as his many other adrenaline-pumping activities.

And a highlight for me was finding ripe berries: blueberries, salmonberries, as well as red and black currants. I hadn't expected the berries to be ripe yet, so that was a nice surprise. We even picked some to take home.

This had to be one of my favorite trips we've taken since being in Alaska. Since we came over in a boat we didn't have to skimp too much on the supplies, so we had a good campstove, tarps to shelter us from the rain, camp chairs for all and plenty of food. It felt like car camping without the car & road. It was nervewracking waiting for our boat ride back, which ended up being a couple hours late, but it worked out in the end. While I was pretty wiped out, sunburned, bruised and sore upon arriving home, the glow of a good trip made it all well worth it.

Gardening Revisited

2010-07-20T20:46:00.014-08:00

Apple trees, domestic blueberries, currants, raspberries and strawberries

are the fruit we are treated to right in our yard, nearly all protected by an 8 foot moose fence.

I spent 2 years starting a garden from scratch at 1300 feet elevation at the home we rented for 2 years. Now we live at 300 feet above sea level and the growing season is 2-4 weeks longer here and the area is protected, away from the winds the roared off the glaciers up high. While our new home had a garden before we moved in, it was grown over and neglected for years (and lawn planted over some of it) so there was lots of work required to make it plantable again.

The greenhouse was easy: the last day of April I threw some lettuce, spinach and radishes in along the back edge of the raised beds, figuring we could get the crop long before the larger plants crowded them out. Memorial weekend I ran over to Wagon Wheel (our local garden supply store) and got some tomato, cucumber, pepper and zucchini starts and planted them, arranging the soaker hoses around the plants. It is a petite greenhouse, with room for 6 plants on each side and three hills along the back in the raised beds. I supplemented with some pots and planters on the floor, which ended up not doing well.

I got the fan plugged in and set the temperature for 80 degrees so the fan would go on when the inside temperature reached 80. A vent on the other end sometimes opens, sometimes does not. On warm days when I'm around and the fan is running constantly I open the door to let bees or other pollinators in to do their work on the cucumber and zucchini blossoms. The tomato blossoms just need to be shaken to pollinate them, so they all get a daily shake. The pepper plants don't need pollinating, but the zucchini females (the ones that form the zucchinis) need to be pollinated with males (blossoms on stalks with no baby zucchini forming), which I have to do if I don't think a bee has done the job.

The garden was another story. There were 2 raised beds that were a solid mass of weeds. I broke a brand new shovel on it last year trying to get through it. The wood was not treated, however, and was starting to rot so I ended up just tearing that raised bed out and renting a rototiller from Uhlmers and tilling up the raised bed and the area behind it. The sod was so thick that the tiller had a hard time biting through it, and the pushki roots were virtually impossible to till. However, we managed, and I was impressed that the soil was actually pretty good (a bit wet, but good).

Another raised bed had been built of treated wood and was not rotting, so I dug all the iris' out of it. In half I planted rhubarb roots I'd found in the yard; in the other half I planted celery seeds and celery starts and covered it with remay to keep it a bit warmer and more protected. The celery seeds never came up, so I later planted a cucumber and a zucchini to fill the space and added some spinach seeds a few weeks ago for a late spinach crop.

I have heard that in our area zucchini and cucumbers cannot grow outside, but someone gave me their leftover starts after I had already filled up the greenhouse. In the spirit of adventure, I decided to try planting them outside and I covered them in remay tents (pictured) and plastic juice jugs. The type of covering didn't seem to make a difference, but rain could get through the remay, while the plants under the plastic jugs stayed dry when it rained and had to be manually watered. At this point in mid/late July the zucchini are blossoming and the cucumber is still limping along.

To supplement the garden footage, I planted my herbs in tubs: parsley, chives and mint each had a tub and were covered with either remay or plastic (more experimenting). I just used what soil was already in the tubs, which probably wasn't a good idea; I think they would have done better with less potting soil and more real dirt with nutrients. The parsley just finally showed up a few days ago, and I gave up on the chives (they were up but wouldn't be harvestable for a few years) and cut a bunch off someone else's mature plants.

Planting was a challenge. The sod hadn't been worked up well, so there were sections that were still untilled. I was in a hurry to get everything in what with various summer travel plans pulling us away from home during the key planting season, so I did a shortcut version: for the potatoes I dug a hole through the sod/weeds just enough to plant the potato. In one entire row I pulled out pushki root after pushki root, giant tubers (pictured left) that look like humongous dandelion roots. The kicker is that the fluid from pushki can cause blisters, rashes and other skin irritation so no matter how beautiful the weather was I had to wear full protection: long pants, long shirt and thick gloves. What I didn't do and should have is wear a mask. After that day of planting potatoes and pulling up pushki roots my throat was sore for 2 days.

I was disappointed at how small my garden turned out. My aunt had given me her leftover starts as well as potatoes left over from last year. With that I planted 4 rows of potatoes and about 24 kohlrabi, cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower. I had just enough room for a partial row of onions, a partial row of rutabagas and a double row of carrots. I like to have my freezer full and veggies enough to last the winter, but it is a gradual process to reach that ideal. For a first year, this was a start.

So far my harvest has been 4 cucumbers from the greenhouse and lots of lettuce. My green peppers are ready whenever I need them. Neither the radishes or spinach made it either in the greenhouse or in the planters outside, which I attribute to poor soil. Amazingly, the bibb lettuce loves it inside the greenhouse. In the greenhouse the cucumber plants are less than 8 inches in length (pathetic!) and bore some cukes, but some cukes have been dying and falling off as well. The tomato plants are going wild and are huge, with tiny green tomatoes on them, and the acorn squash (planted seeds Memorial weekend) are prolific. The zucchini plants inside are about 5 times larger than the plants outside and started blossoming a few weeks sooner (4 inch fruit on them already compared to no fruit yet on the outside ones).

One sweet thing we inherited is an underground hose that runs from the house out to the greenhouse/garden area. We are careful with water as we have water trucked in (as does nearly everyone who lives on 'the bench' in Homer). We have yet to get a rainwater gathering system in place. After nearly a year of thinking about it, I finally chose my compost spot and got my lawn clippings, vegetable scraps, sawdust, comfrey leaves and more peculating to make some good dirt for me.

Next year I hope to be on top of things a bit more and start my own plants inside earlier and get everything planted in the greenhouse sooner as well. While a heater in the greenhouse would be nice, it is not absolutely necessary. I always approach my gardening in Alaska as a great big experiment anyways, so I'm always throwing things in, transplanting, using manure tea, bringing bees into the greenhouse and whatever other idea hits me. I give my gardener friends tours and pump them for information, which is my best source of expertise as gardeners love talking plants and sharing their knowledge (which is why I am blogging so extensively about this!). If a plant dies, I just plant something else to take its place since I have so little space. I have planted spinach in 3 different places at 3 different times in the past couple weeks as I rearrange things. And of course weeding is a never-ending task, but I have a great tan for my efforts!!

The key difference with gardening down here was that the soil was readily plantable. Up yonder where we used to live the 'soil' was 'clay' and impossible to plant without adding a lot of compost, manure and good stuff for drainage and nutrients. I don't know if all the soil around here is so good, but soil has been eroding off the ridge above us for hundreds or thousands of years, so I suspect it is simply better than soil at elevation. Gardening is a lot of work, but I love it!

Nussman Ridge Center Trail

2010-07-19T23:07:00.008-08:00

A beautiful bridge spans a rushing stream at the beginning of this trail in Turnagin Pass.

Every time I drive from Homer to Anchorage, I gaze at the hiking trails wistfully and wish I would spend some time camping up in that area so I could check out all the trails. I was on my own heading back home last week, the weather was good and I was itching to check out another trail so I pulled off in one of the nicely paved parking lots in Turnagin Pass (there are 2 almost across the road from each other). Coming from Anchorage, it was the one on the left, the one that all the backcountry skiers take in the winter, strapping on skins and heading for some of the greatest backcountry downhill skiing and snowboarding in the state.

As a summer trail it started off paved, turned to gravel, popped over a silty, rushing glacier stream on a beautiful bridge, and then withered down to a lightly-used single track after the stone monument with the name of the trail posted. There were boggy sections, and soon my tennis shoes were soaked. I pressed on as far as I could until the trail got boggier than I wanted to deal with, which was about 30 minutes out. From there I could see a ridge ahead of me (pictured above) and jagged peaks rising above that in the distance. It was a peaceful, comfortable hike, and if I go back muck boots would be my footwear of choice. It would be fun to see how far I could get in a day trip. The season is short, as the snow has only recently left and the blueberries were only just blooming on July 14 when I did the hike.

Caveat: I am pretty sure, but not positive, that this is the name of this trail. I couldn't quite read it positively in blowing up the picture. Argh!

Bird Ridge Hike

2010-07-19T22:45:00.003-08:00

Between Girdwood and Anchorage along the Seward Highway, Turnagin Arm hems in the road on one side while the Chugach Mountains rise thousands of feet on the other side. There are oodles of pull-offs and hiking trails along this section within 45 minutes of Anchorage, but it seems like we are always in a hurry to get somewhere and don't have the time to stop for a hike. Last week on yet another trip to Anchorage my cousin and I made time to climb Bird Ridge.

The Bird Ridge hike begins at the most distinctive parking lot along this section of highway: what looks like hundreds of feet of rock were blasted out, making sheer cliffs that grab your attention as you drive by. The tiered parking area is nicely paved, making it impressive by Alaska standards. We actually parked 1/4 mile to the north where there was another parking area for the same trail.

It starts out with a paved path and just past the bathrooms the trail begins to climb. On par with Alaska, there is a race up this trail to the top (just up; not back down), which follows a ridge all the way up. My cousin thought it takes nearly an hour for the speediest climber to get up there, so that would be a long climb. We ended up climbing for 45 minutes up since we didn't have a lot of time. Some other people who were climbing were watching for a bore tide (when there is a very low tide going to a very high tide, a single wave 2 to 6 feet high sweeps up the Turnagin Arm) that was supposed to come through about 6:15-6:30, which was right around the time we were up there. We didn't see it, which was a bummer.

This hike is a nice one for getting incredible views of Turnagin Arm without climbing too much since the trees are not very dense. Forty five minutes got us to the area where we would have had to start climbing over rocks rather than just hiking the trail, so that worked out well. We figure we climbed 600-800 feet, which would have been more comfortable if we weren't wearing jeans!

Kilcher Homestead Games

2010-07-10T20:34:00.006-08:00

The Kilcher Homestead Cabin built in the 1940's

This is one of those cute, whimsical events that is so "Alaska." I've heard of the Kilcher Homestead Games before, so when I was reminded of it from the radio today I decided we had to go check it out.

The Kilcher Homestead is down Kilcher Road, about Mile 10 or so of East End Road. It was first settled in the late '30's by a couple from Switzerland. They moved from down by Kachemak Bay up to the present location of the homestead cabin in the 1940's. They had 8 children (2 or 3 to a bunk--3 levels of bunk beds in one room), though the original house was added on to so what you see pictured here is with the additions. It still has the sod roof, and as you can see, incredible views over the hayfields.
The games included nail pounding, 3 legged races, a cast iron fry pan toss and the "Run for the Coal." Aurora got first in the 12-18 Run for the Coal, which was about a mile run down to the beach where she had to pick up a 5 pound bag of coal and then run back up. In the 12 and under category, Denver got second, though he didn't have to run as far and only had to carry a 3 pound bag of coal. Doug managed to toss the cast iron frying pan 91 feet, only 3 feet shy of winning with the longest toss. And while the contests went on, kids pile up freshly mown hay into "nests" or "forts," which kept them fully occupied.

Kilchers still live on the homestead, and in fact, a couple from Michigan is living in the downstairs of the original cabin in exchange for talking to visitors about the place. It is private property and the Kilcher family requests that people call for permission to walk the property or the trail down to the beach (a phone number is listed on a sign when you get far enough along Kilcher Road).

This was our first time visiting the homestead. It was a casual, fun afternoon hanging out. We knew probably two thirds of the people there. The view was beautiful; it was the sort of place you want to have a picnic lunch.

Kincaid Park/Anchorage--A Gem!

2010-07-09T21:31:00.007-08:00

Every so often I come across something in Anchorage that makes me think, "I could actually live here." I was in Anchorage by myself the other day and in the mood to explore so decided to see what was at the end of Dimond Boulevard. What was at the end of Dimond was the real gem of Anchorage: Kincaid Park.

I came in the back entrance of the park where the motocross stadium is. I'm not a big fan of motocross, but when a dirtbike flew 40 feet into the air right in front of me, I was duly impressed. Open 5 days a week, the place was hopping, with trucks pulling in and out and 5-10 dirtbikes flying around the stadium at any one time. Some were obviously better than others; not all were pulling as much air as that first one I saw.

Then I climbed the sand dune behind the motocross stadium. I wasn't sure which came first, the motocross or the dune (as in, did all that sand blow out of the motocross area??), but it was still a fascinating area, with bird (bat?) holes in the side of the sandstone cliff and an incredible view of Cook Inlet and Turnagin Arm. 'Paintball Prohibited' signs were plastered everywhere, and that appears to be one of the few things that cannot be done in Kincaid Park.

Next I started hiking. There was a rabbit warren of trails--twisty turny trails of hard-packed dirt that would be incredible for mountain biking, though protection would be needed from the devil's club hanging over the trail in places. Of the 60 kilometers of trails, which are cross-country ski trails in the winter, 17 kilometers are lighted. The picture shows just how twisty they are. I counted 21 "steep downhills" on this map, so the terrain is certainly challenging enough.

After a hike I headed back to the car and drove the perimeter of the park, which took me past huge California-style housing developments (all the well-to-do in Anchorage want to be next door to Kincaid Park, I imagine) to the main entrance of the park. Wow. Brand new pavement, lighting, landscaping, newly paved bike paths winding along. I stopped at one pull-off and it was the biathalon range. There a group of people were training an attack dog. The dog did so well he pulled the padded 'arm' off the man who was wearing it. I beat a hasty retreat.

Rollerskiers abounded, as did walkers, joggers and bikers (abounded in Alaska terms of population density, which is much less than, say, Midwest population density). The end of the road was a packed parking area with a year-round cafeteria/chalet surrounded by soccer fields, a playground, a frisbee golf course, and an overlook.

On my way out I checked out Campbell Lake. A couple of people were kayaking on it and fishing is allowed as well. There is also an archery range and it looked like they are building a viewing stadium into the side of one hill. There are bridges and tunnels, old bunkers from the military presence and now used for storage, and I saw a moose along one road. I can see myself being an avid biker if I had easy access to Kincaid, and the skiing would be incredible. Now that I know what it has, I will plan my trips to Anchorage a little differently and take my bike, rollerblades or skis. This is too good to pass up!

If you're interested in reading about the history of Kincaid Park, the Nordic Skiing Association of Anchorage put together a very complete history. It can be found at http://www.anchoragenordicski.com/Trails/trailsKincaid.htm.

Mt. Marathon

2010-06-22T21:52:00.008-08:00

Mt. Marathon offers superb views of the Seward Harbor.

Monday I dropped Denver off at the Challenger Center for space camp and stopped by to see my cousin Ronna. They were going over to Seward to climb Mt. Marathon that afternoon since 3 of their kids are doing the July 4th race, and she invited me along. Never one to pass up an adventure, I ran to the store to buy a pair of shorts and a little after noon we were on our way, braving summer Alaska traffic for the 2 hour drive from Kenai to Seward.

Minutes after we headed up the trail, I mentally began shaking my head. Who would let their 9-year-old kid race up a cliff?? I was a bit nervous myself as I saw the "trail," and I couldn't imagine letting 300 kids at it, unsupervised, to run 3/4 mile up a not-quite-vertical-but pretty-darn-close-to-it slope covered with loose rocks and mud. Hm. Obviously I'm not truly Alaskan or tough enough. You see the picture to the left. What do you think?? As we continued up I got a little more comfortable with the trail. "Trail," singular, is an oxymoron. There is more like 2 or 3 or 4 or more trails one can take up, so it is constantly a multiple choice. Which one is best? All of them were overhung with Devil's Club, pushki and whatnot. Some were slicker than others from the rain over the weekend. All were steep.

Let me pause for a moment and fill you in. This "race" is up the 3000 foot (give or take), 1 1/2 mile (one way) Mt. Marathon every year on July 4. If you're under 18 you're considered a junior and only have to go halfway, which still gets you above treeline. The race starts in town and there's about 7-10 blocks of running uphill on pavement before getting to the base of the mountain and the trail. Each year 300 kids, 300 women and 300 men are allowed to race to the top to see which maniac is fastest at managing not to kill or maim themselves and still get to the top and back down. So many people want the honors to run this race that there is a lottery held each year. Applications must be in by March 31. If you've run the race the previous year, ever won the race, or raced it more than 10 times you are exempt from the lottery and can get in. What spots are left are up for grabs.

Well, it took us an hour of frequent stops to catch our breath, admire the view of Resurrection Bay and the Seward Harbor and attempt to ignore our burning calves to reach the half-way mark. We had to help 7-year-old Sonora and 9-year-old Darius up the cliff section, and they managed to not whine or complain too much. Then for the descent. Coming down is certainly faster than going up, but in some ways more nervewracking since the trail was loose scree, snow, and a creek. The "down" route follows a creek. The fastest way would probably be to plow right through the middle of the creek, though one would need to be cautious of slippery rocks. But then, I imagine that anyone who is serious about getting down fast doesn't care too much about falling on slippery rocks anyways. There was another little section of rock climbing that took a good 15 minutes to get the kids down, coaching them on every hand and foothold so they wouldn't go tumbling and take us out too. We walked through the creek part of the way as well.

People take this race very seriously. The parking lot just behind the Seward Hospital was full. There were old women in jogbras with not an ounce of spare flesh on them, parents interrogating their kids on how they did on their training run, and moms with kids in baby backpacks. Higher up people were practicing their descent technique. My cousin kept up a commentary much of the way up, coaching her 9-year-old on the right path to take, when to go fast, when to go slow, and more, since this will be his first time racing it. It all seemed a bit overwhelming. When we were done Ronna invited me to come and watch the race with them on July 4. I am curious and can't quite imagine it so we just might do it!

Gorgeous view of Resurrection Bay from partway up Mt. Marathon.

T.R.A.I.L.S. Work Day Across the Bay

2010-06-16T14:38:00.012-08:00

View of part of Halibut Cove from the Alpine Ridge Trail with the Homer Spit in the background.

Two years ago we participated in the T.R.A.I.L.S. Work Day at Kachemak Bay State Park across the bay. It got us a cheap boat ride across the bay for a day of hiking and no work. This year we chose a different trail, hoping to get some work! Work we got, and the boat ride was even cheaper: $15 for adults and $5 for kids, for a grand total of $40 for the family, round-trip (as compared to $240 water taxi rates for the family). It was well worth it!

The work: We chose to help with some light brushing and trail work on the Saddle Trail off of Halibut Cove. A couple of Fish & Wildlife Service guys were waiting for us at our drop-off point. After teaching us the names, purposes and use of the tools we were to use, we all grabbed some and headed up the trail.

The Saddle Trail is a series of switchbacks that heads up a rugged slope above Halibut cove. After years of use the trail gets worn down and when it rains the water runs down the trail rather than across it. which can wash the trail right out. Our goals were to 1-clear brush from the sides of the trail and 2-flatten the trail so the water would run across it rather than down it. With a crew of 7 (9 including the Fish and Game guys) we fixed up the trail in 2 1/2 hours. Denver and I had loppers and lopped Devil's Club, elderberry, cranberry and alders up the half mile, while the rest of the crew grabbed shovels, rakes and whatnot and smoothed out the trail. A major project to reduce the steepness of the trail is in the works, extending the switchbacks for more gradual corners. That is a heavier job than we were equipped for so we just helped fix up the part of the trail that will continue to exist after being fixed up.

The hike: After we got done working at 11:30, the rest of the day was ours to explore as we liked till pickup by the water taxi at 4:30. We ate our lunch, then decided to check out the Lagoon Trail that roughly follows the shoreline from a few hundred feet up off the water's edge. It was quite a trek, with a hardly visible trail, fallen trees that we had to crawl under and bear scat every 50 feet or so (some quite fresh!). We didn't go far before we decided to turn back and explore another trail. The Alpine Ridge Trail is a 2.2 mile out and back trek. We probably only made it out a half mile or so. It was all steeply uphill and grueling for the person who was wearing the backpack (in this case, Doug). Not being accustomed to the climbing or the heat (it was probably 65 or so) we got some good pictures of Halibut Cove and then decided to head to the Grewingk Glacier and glacier lake.

Another view of Halibut Cove--the inside part at low tide. At high tide all the mud flats in the middle of the picture are covered with water, but it is still not passable by most boats except through the channel on the right side (hidden in this pic by the tree).

An easy, mostly level 1.1 mile hike got us from the top of the Saddle Trail to the Grewingk Glacier Lake. This is probably one of the more popular across the bay destinations, and as you can see from the picture, there were lots of people there that day! The kids waded in the water, played with icebergs, threw rocks, climbed rocks and enjoyed the warm, sunshiney day. Weather-wise, it was an awesome treat, as the last time we'd come on the TRAILS Day it was cool, blustery and rainy and we'd huddled under a tarp.

Halibut Cove has a year-round village (an artist's enclave), oyster farms, a restaurant, shopping, camping, Kachemak Bay State Park, awesome kayaking, sealife and more. Homes like the one picture here get supplies on ropes from the water. It is another world over there and a very neat place to visit. If we wanted to go more often we would have to buy a boat or be good friends with someone who owns a boat since ferry prices are prohibitive. We just saw the backcountry part of Halibut Cove on this trip; the village would be a many-hour hike away from where we were.

We got back to the Homer Harbor and saw Halibut Cove's namesake lying in the back of a truck. That is one big fish, though I doubt any halibut are left there anymore.

Climbing the Ridge

2010-06-09T21:01:00.006-08:00

Ever since we moved to Homer 3 years ago I have wanted to climb the ridge that rises 1000 feet above the town of Homer. Also known as "the bench," we now live at the base of this ridge. I hear there are several trails up the ridge, though they start on private property so you need to know where there are and have the permission of the owners to cross their land. On one of our walks last year a neighbor told us that one trail starts on their property and they invited us to use it whenever we wanted. Aurora has bugged me to climb the ridge since we moved to our house, but the timing was never right. We were too busy in the fall, I had no desire to go up it in the winter, and then it was too mucky in the spring. Then the bears were coming out of hibernation and no one recommended going up there until they'd been out of hibernation a bit and had found food. We haven't had rain in a couple weeks and the pushki and other plants aren't too big yet so I decided today was the day.

We found the trail with no problem as our neighbors had marked it with a flag and weed-wacked the first 50 feet or so. After that first 50 feet, the trail was gone and we pretty much had to forage our own route up. If we climbed in the ravine there was more pushki and possibly boggy land. We opted to climb one of the spines of the ridge. In some places this was a nearly vertical climb. We were surrounded by pushki at the lower elevation and thorny wild rose bushes higher up. We would lose our balance at times and grab at the nearest shrub and discover we'd grabbed a handful of thorns. Ouch!

I was amazed to discover that the plants on the ridge were significantly further along than the plants in our yard. Lupine, forget-me-nots, wild geraniums and wild roses were blooming in profusion (the lupine has just come up in my yard), creating a beautiful mountain meadow feel. Even the pushki was a foot taller than just a few hundred feet lower at our place. This is probably because of the south-facing slope.

We took plenty of breaks as we planned our route up and scanned for bear or moose who might be crabby about our invading their territory. We got to the 'top' only to discover that the 'top' was a false one and we'd have a much longer hike if we wanted to get all the way up to Skyline Drive. The kids opted to enjoy the view, eat a snack and head back down.

Three years of itching to climb the ridge is thoroughly out of my system. Even the kids, who were so keen on the hike, said they don't want to do it again for awhile. One neighbor said their kids and grandkids snowboard the ridge in the winter. Aurora likes the thought, but I can't quite imagine climbing it with snow if it was that difficult climbing without snow! I'm out on the count on whether I'm going to let that happen!

The view from on the ridge.
Grewingk Glacier is on the far left of the Kenai Mountain Range.

Diamond Creek Trail

2010-06-06T21:30:00.007-08:00

Diamond Creek near the beach

One of our favorite hikes around Homer is the Diamond Creek Trail a few miles north out of Homer on the Sterling Highway. An unmarked gravel track across the road from the Diamond Ridge Rd. traverses a mile or so down and around to a trailhead. Oftentimes the parking lot is full and we've had to find a parking spot up the road at a pull-off.

The trail begins in an alder and pine forest with no view, but once you head around the first curve the panorama of Cook Inlet spreads out in front of you as the trail opens up with the gorge Diamond Creek cuts through. Over the past couple years mudslides have wiped out the trail a couple times and now erosion is cutting away at the trail, eating away at it. The first time we took this trail we were nervous as the trail drops off 50 feet or more down to the creek with no guardrail. With time we got used to the dropoff and just enjoyed the view.

Part of the fun of Diamond Creek is the geology. As you descend, you can see the different layers of stone in the cut. Another part of the fun is where the creek comes out onto the beach at the bottom. It is a kiddie playland, with logs criss-crossing the stream, big rocks, waterfalls and more. It is a common occurance to see sea otters a few feet off the shore while we sit and take in the sunshine, as well as eagles, cormorants and other birds. The kids love climbing the cliffs, though that could be a risky enterprise as 'slumps' are common when part of the cliff just drops off (in fact, a friend had one fall right over her head; close call!) and heads the direction of the beach.

The hike back up is a good workout, but not so long that it wipes us out. This is a favorite trail in part because many of the trails around Homer are boggy and take awhile to dry out enough to hike, but this one manages to be hikeable earlier than most. The kids enjoy the beach and this hike can be extended to whatever length one wants by hiking out and back on the beach either towards Homer or towards Anchor Point.

Pier One Theatre

2010-05-29T05:55:00.007-08:00

Back in March my son got involved in a local production of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing." Having never been involved in a play before on any level, it has been interesting getting an inside view of show biz in Homer. Pier One Theatre is a hub for plays in Homer in the summer.

"Much Ado" opened the third week of April at Alice's Champagne Palace (I know! What a name! I guess it is a historical spot in Homer), a large, barn-like bar. Three nights there were packed with locals who enjoyed dinner while they watched the performance by a cast of 21. After a month hiatus, the show re-opens this weekend for a three-weekend run at Pier One Theatre on the Spit.
The Pier One Theatre building, located next to the fishing hole 3 miles out on the Spit, looks like a giant red shack. The front is nicely painted, while the sides are peeling. There is no running water in the building which is why it is only open for 3 months in the summer (play practices happened at the Homer High School theatre). There is a port-a-pottie for the actors and a public restroom in a building across the gravel parking lot. They do have concessions, and my son was thrilled to get the leftover popcorn after last night's performance. This theatre seats 61, and I had to chuckle because the back row is a set of overstuffed, comfy seats and when we went to preview night on Wednesday, the back row filled up first. The other seats are padded seats with wooden backs--as comfortable as any you will find.

While at Alice's the actor's 'backstage' was actually upstairs in the loft (with a set of very creaky stairs that had to be traversed to reach the 'stage!'), here there is actually a stage, albeit a small one. In the April production a table with tablecloth and a chair or two were about the extent of props, but for the theatre production there are backdrop changes after nearly every scene. Costumes are garnered from the Homer High School costume room (that would be worth a blog entry of its own!), and while the costumes are obviously pulled together from whatever is available to fit the shapes of the characters, they are reasonably well done. And I am always impressed with the talent found in a little burg like Homer. While the full cast is not incredible, the cast is solid and the director, Bobbie Lee Briggs, does a good job pulling this together.

Pier One also has a Youth Theatre summer program each year in June with a production in July as well as a spattering of other productions throughout the summer. While my son enjoys acting and is good at it, this performance has maxed him out. Practices for 3 hours every night eat up his free time, and last night he didn't get home till almost 11:30 after an 8:15 p.m. performance. Performers have to be very committed, and I am amazed at how many people are dedicated to the local theatre. I am hoping Denver recovers from this production and does some more acting...otherwise maybe I'll just take up acting myself!

In case you're interested....reservations for all performances are 235-7333.

Captain Cook Camping & 4-Wheeling Trip

2010-05-25T19:45:00.015-08:00

A beautiful weekend and a few days off work for Doug convinced us we needed to get out for our first camping trip of the season. We'd visited Captain Cook State Park the first summer we moved here three years ago and we've been itching to do a 4-wheeling trip for awhile now so we loaded up our Durango and trailer and set out for the 2 1/2 - 3 hour drive up the shore of Cook Inlet, past Kenai and Nikiski to the end of the road: Captain Cook.

This is a nice campground. Fifty-three sites blend in with the contours of the land with different levels and layouts, making it interesting and fun to choose a site. The entire campground is overgrown with Devil's Club, a pervasive, extremely prickly plant that makes it impassable between sites. This early the leaves weren't even out yet, but in a few weeks the huge leaves will spread out, giving privacy to an already spacious campground. On a Saturday night the place was about 40% full, with quite a few campers and RV's and a spattering of tents.

One big draw of this campground is the 4-wheeling opportunities, and that provided the interest of this trip for us. Four-wheelers are not allowed in the campground, so we had to drive about a mile to the park entrance with the trailer and unload there. We didn't have a map and really knew nothing about the land we were about to 4-wheel, so we set out with an attitude of adventure and exploration. Doug and Aurora rode the Honda Foreman and Denver and I rode the Honda Rancher (80% of the 4-wheelers sold in Alaska are Honda's). Not a mile down the trail I got stuck in the muck. Doug got through, got out the pull strap and hauled me out. Shortly after I got stuck again, and again, and again, and again. By the third (fourth? fifth?) time we had our routine down: kids would jump off, Doug would pass me, hook up the pull and I would rev it as he pulled. The strap would get tucked away and off we went again for another few hundred feet, if we were lucky.

After a couple miles I looked at Doug, he looked at me, and we made a U-turn. We'd had enough mucking. We'd heard the trail was mucky, and if it had just been us without the weight of the kids on the back it might have been different. None of us were having fun, I'd almost lost my boots a few times in the thick, viscous slime and I was covered with it. We got stuck another time or two heading out and it was with great relief that we arrived back at the parking lot. We hadn't hauled all that equipment all that way for 4 miles of misery, so we headed down to the beach. We'd heard that people go out to the point of the Peninsula (across from Anchorage) on the trail and then would return on the beach, so we knew the beach was fair game.

Riding on the beach was fun. While we had to weave around the rocks some, it was smooth and we didn't get stuck, so that's all that mattered to us. We went out a few miles and then were ready for a break and the tide was coming in so we returned to the parking lot, loaded up and headed back for a few hours of relaxation and lunch. We noticed on the tide table that low tide was at 8:30 Kenai River time, so figured if we headed back out on the beach in late afternoon we could catch a low tide.

At 4:00 we donned our 4-wheeling gear (wind jacket, gloves, helmets) and headed back out to the staging area. When we reached the beach we were dismayed to see that the tide was still very high--too high to 4-wheel on we thought. We headed back to the trails we'd been on in the morning and a beautiful, secluded lake (with broken glass and a pile of trash) and had snacks and explored for awhile waiting for the tide to go down. Forty-five minutes later, the tide was low enough for us to go. We went out nearly 12 miles, stopping once to let the kids climb giant boulders and give our sore thumbs a break. Areas with wet, smooth sand we could cruise at 40+ mph, while in other places were were down to 10 mph maneuvering around boulders and rocks. This kind of 4-wheeling we liked, and we would go back there for that.

For me, one of the more interesting parts of this camping trip were all of the sounds I was able to hear with my new cochlear implant. Birds, squirrels, the crackling fire, and people talking in other sites were all things I would not have heard a month ago, and would not have heard since I was a young child. One man came over an apologized for his generator running to power his C-Pap for sleep apnea (He and his sons and grandsons were out hunting for black bear. Guess a brown bear messed up his camera and bait set-up). The generator hadn't bothered us, but it was sweet of him to mention it. The best part of all, though, was being able to hear perfectly even with my helmet on. I found that amazing! I didn't think it was possible to hear through a helmet.

Besides my agonizingly sore body and the loads of laundry, it was an awesome trip that we really enjoyed, and we were grateful for sunshine and temperatures in the 50's.

First Cruise Ship of Season Visits Homer

2010-05-25T19:06:00.007-08:00

As I drove into town this afternoon, I was startled by the number of people walking around Homer on Pioneer Avenue. Five blocks later there were so many people I came to the logical conclusion: there was a cruise ship docked in town. When I returned home I could see it docked near the end of the Spit, and when we had to drop Denver off at play practice this evening we saw it up close: it was huge! However, it was also moving fast, so while it was just off the north side of the spit, by time we walked past the buildings to get a good view of it, the ship was beyond the Spit and heading out of Kachemak Bay.

Homer does not get a lot of cruise ships. A 'normal' summer seems to see two or three, and not the humongous ones. Supposedly there are supposed to be up to nine cruise ships visiting this summer. This one, the Amsterdam with Holland America Line, was by far the largest I've seen in Homer. I was impressed, as always, at the number of people these ships spew out, and also impressed at how much money these ships must bring into the area. I can see that a few more ships might mean a store staying in business or not. When we visited Juneau a few years ago these giant ships were in and out daily; those have the perfect setup as downtown Juneau is right on the boat dock. In Homer there is the 5 mile Spit and then some to get into 'town,' though I am guessing shuttles are provided.

The Homer News had a nice write-up on the cruise ships coming to the area this summer, including this one. See http://homeralaska.com/Stories/Cruise-ship-scheduled-for-nine-Homer-visits-in-2010.shtml.

June 8: The Amsterdam was back today and this time
I made sure to get a picture before it left harbor!

Homer Observatory

2010-05-22T10:43:00.007-08:00

I had heard about 'some guy who has an observatory' in Homer, so when Denver expressed an interest in learning more about it, I tracked the guy down. After nearly two months of back-and-forth, and he finally emailed yesterday and said, "It's sunny and I'm around!" so we finally got together.

Tom Kern's setup is pretty cool. He built a shed with a top that slides off so that he doesn't have to recalibrate the telescopes each time he uses them. Of course they are hooked up to his computer so that he can control things from the comfort of his house, and pictures from the camera attached to the telescope can be downloaded directly to his computer as well. The telescopes are hooked up to a motor so they can track the sun or other celestial bodies as the pictures he takes can take many hours of exposure (one he had on his wall took 9 hours of exposure). Things can also be automated so that if he wanted, Tom could have his computer take pictures at night so he wouldn't have to stay awake for viewing.

When I asked him how his location was for viewing, Tom was blunt: "It sucks." He lives in Homer so has the city lights glowing around him. Apparently this far north there is a lot of atmospheric interference so things that might be clear at a lower latitude are a bit blurry here. In addition, there are about 5 months of the year from April through October that there is no nighttime viewing at all due to long daylight hours. Cloudy days limit the number of opportunities as well, so the actual window of opportunity for viewing can be slim. Apparently when there is a string of clear, dark nights, Tom will be up as much as he can, which can wreak havoc on sleep patterns, but it is a passion he has enjoyed for many years.

Homer is full of people with passions and talents in a huge array of areas, so it was neat to find one who was willing to share their hobby. Denver got to see a sunspot and track it for an hour ("It's still there!"), wanted to get his paws on the equipment, but really wanted to see more "stuff"--which he would need a dark, clear night for. For now, it whetted his appetite for space viewing.

If interested, Tom's astrophotography website can be found at http://www.belugalakeobservatory.com.

Homer Helping Haiti

2010-04-09T17:32:00.004-08:00

A couple months ago I saw an article in the paper about a group of people in Homer who were putting together a group of families to take in medical evacuees from Haiti for a few months while the children recuperated from their surgeries. I asked my husband and kids, and we all agreed that we wanted to volunteer to be a host family. It was a pretty huge step, but we have all been firm that this is what we want to do.

The uncertainty has been great. It was said it might be anywhere from a few weeks to many months before we would get children placed with the group of families in Homer. Nearly weekly meetings have had speakers discussing what it is like hosting children from other countries, the application process, updates from Homer volunteer pilot to Haiti, Stephanie Anderson, some basic French lessons and more. We have solicited for airline miles to fly the children up here, sought donations for medical care and clothing, contacted the local Catholic church (as most Haiti children are Catholic), alerted the schools and organized French or Creole speakers to provide translation for children and families.

It is exciting to consider having a group of 10-20 Haiti children in Homer--a community of them, so to speak. It is a neat project and it is overwhelming to see how many people want to make a concrete difference in the lives of a group Haiti children.

If you are interesting in reading more about this group, check out our website at http://www.homerhelpinghaiti.ai446.org/ ,
our blog at http://homerhelpinghaiti.wordpress.com/,
or a recent article in the Homer News at http://homernews.com/stories/040710/news_6_003.shtml.

Reflections on Traveling Outside

2010-04-09T16:48:00.003-08:00

Earlier this week my husband and I hopped in a plane to fly to Houston for a vacation/conference. On the flight out I was reading "Fifty Miles from Tomorrow" by William Hensley about the Alaska Natives who were some of the original users of the term "outside" for traveling anywhere outside of Alaska. It was perfect!

I hadn't realized how long it had been since I'd flown out. The first year in Alaska I flew outside 4 times for a week each time. Since then I have not flown outside. It was strange to see so many people, so much concrete, so many cars. It was a totally different experience than driving outside on our 10,000 mile, 5 week road trip last summer. That was a process; this was ka-boom, we're there.

The first two days of traveling, all I could think about was how jealous I was of my kids back in Alaska, out at the cabin (no running water or electricity) with my aunt and uncle, snow machining, sledding down huge hills (and snow machining back up) and crust skiing. Both Doug and I wanted to be back there with them rather than in the glamor and glitz of all Houston has to offer. Now, 5 days into this vacation, we're getting used to the traffic, noise and warm weather. When we helped do some landscaping for a Houston school on Thursday, I wore a t-shirt and shorts and was warm. It was 70 degrees--it rarely hits 70 degrees in Homer. I virtually never wear shorts outside in Homer. Here, every time we walk out the door of our hotel we feel slightly...naked...without our winter jackets.

It takes this culture shock of leaving Alaska to remind me of just how used to small town country life I have gotten. What is most entertaining are people's reactions to our introductions that include where we are from: "Wow" with a long pause is a common one, along with, "You're a long way from home." And when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of Johnson Space Center along with people from Australia, Germany and around the U.S., it was Alaska people were asking about! Much as it is cool to see famous people, go to professional basketball games, and more, I will be so happy to be back in Homer and skiing.

Crust Skiing

2010-04-03T19:12:00.005-08:00

Crust skiing is a term that gets thrown about with anticipation and enthusiasm by Alaskan cross-country skiers. In Michigan I think we called it 'spring skiing,' but here it takes on whole new meaning with the large expanses of undeveloped and unforested land. When I rolled out of bed this morning and saw it was a beautiful day out, I felt some urgency to get my skis on and get out there before the sun softened the snow. Apparently I wasn't the only one with that thought! I checked my email and discovered a crust skiing/sushi party up by Lookout this afternoon, and another email from someone on the Homer Women's Nordic Team asking about crust skiing conditions.

As I pulled up to McNeil Canyon School there were 2 cars ahead of me, and one guy who was checking out the snow called over, "It couldn't get better than this!" as he cruised around an ungroomed but very skiable area. Three more cars pulled up behind me as I got my skis on. I cruised cross-country, checking out conditions, and decided to explore the area over by Eveline Trails adjacent the McNeil trail system. Over there I bumped into a couple friends and one of them gave a detailed description of crust skiing conditions (just so-so), what would need to happen to make it perfect conditions, and his estimate of when those conditions will happen (1 week).

As you can see from my pictures, our skis broke through the crust, so it wasn't quite perfect crust skiing yet. Earlier in the day (it was 10:30-11 a.m. at the time) conditions would have been better, and it always helps to be lighter! With anywhere from 2-4+ feet of snow on the ground still, depending on upcoming temperatures, we could still be skiing for another month or more yet.

I've never really gotten into crust skiing before, but the attraction is clear. Ditch the little groomed circles that we call ski trails and just strike out for any distant mountain, ridge or landmark. The weather is warm, tans are the norm, people sightings are rare and the freedom is delightful. For my first time ever, I am anxiously awaiting crust skiing! I just have to watch out for bear fresh out of hibernation and crabby moose!

Friendly Neighborhood

2010-04-02T21:47:00.003-08:00

When we were looking for a house to buy around Homer last year we were looking for a certain number of rooms, with a view, good roads for walking on, space to play and a garden, among other things. What we really lucked out with, though, was finding a house of choice in a really nice neighborhood.

The first month we lived in our new house we knew most of our neighbors in sight. We would meet them walking on the road, and sometimes we would be with one neighbor on the road and another would drive by, stop, and we would get introduced to them. There's Liz with the 30 apple trees and Elizabeth across the street. There is Soundra who has to walk across the bridges to get to her place, and the Arndt's whose son and my son are buddies. Carrie has a wild horse, and then there's the delightful lady with the thick accent from Germany who likes to talk plants. Judy connects us all since she and her husband were some of the first people to build on this road 30 years ago. Greg and Judy both came by and dug up some iris I was getting rid of, and Judy also took us for a walk through our family doctor's beautiful garden when we were walking by one day. It goes on. We've met other neighbors at parties, on the ski slopes, at meetings; one even was a blog reader of mine before moving up here to Homer (I haven't actually met her yet, just email correspondence!).

I read about people who don't know their neighbors and I can't imagine it. Well, actually, I can. Most other places I've lived since I left my childhood home I haven't known my neighbors. But this neighborhood we landed in is delightfully friendly and comfortable. When we meet people out walking a conversation ensues. Most people are the sort that we enjoy talking to, they have interesting stories, and an amazing number of them love gardening and plants, giving us a never-ending topic.

Ours is a walking neighborhood, which makes it conducive to getting to know neighbors. A connector trail to the next road over allows for a loop walk of about 30 minutes. Every day people walk by, up or down. If we're out we wave and they wave and sometimes they walk up the drive and talk. The only time there are not walkers is when the road is a sheet of ice, which was for a couple months this winter. As the ice melted the foot traffic increased.

To me this is the ideal sort of neighborhood to be part of. It was an added bonus to finding a nice home in a good location.

Homer Hitchhikers

2010-04-01T11:24:00.002-08:00

Hitchhikers are an Alaskan special. We have seen and picked up more hitchhikers since we've moved here than ever in our lives.

Around Homer, I see hitchhikers almost daily. Most of them are heading one way or the other up East End Road. Occasionally they are heading out of town up the Sterling Highway. Enough of them are regulars that you can tell they use hitchhiking as their main form of transportation to or from work, as they often show up at the same time every day. Many times they are people I know--store clerks, students at the college, etc. Some are men, some are women. Some are well dressed, while others look like bums or backpackers. Their stories, when we pick them up, are always interesting and it ends up being a bright spot in my day. Others I don't pick up because I don't see them in time or because of heavy traffic or because there is no place to pull off. Other times we don't have any room in the car. There are a few hitchhikers that I still think of and regret not picking up.

Hitchhiking is not something I have ever been comfortable doing, so in a weird way I admire these people. It helps me appreciate having a car and being able to come and go at will. We are blessed to have wheels, and the money to afford gas!

Weird Sports

2010-03-31T10:40:00.011-08:00

During the 3 years we've lived near Homer I've seen so many 'sports' that I'd never seen or even dreamed of before, and certainly not sports I would think of doing in the winter. Here's a sampling, most which I've seen just in the past couple months:

Winter ocean kayaking: The waves were huge on Bishop's Beach yesterday and I was surprised not to see kayakers out there. When the tide is right and the waves are large, which only seems to happen in the winter, kayakers can often be seen riding the waves near shore. Their kayaks are tiny and they are encased in suits and it looks almost like a sitting up version of body surfing. In addition to challenging it looks chilling.

Paragliding: There are a couple of people who have been launching off Beluga Lake and paragliding around the area a few times a week. It has become a common sight to see the glider hovering over the ridge above Homer and cruising along just above the town. Seems like it would be a bit cold! Pictured here is a guy parasailing with rollerblades down the spit trail.

Wind surfers: I have also seen wind surfers with something like the paraglider sails, except they put on skis? ice skates? and get pulled along the surface of the ice on Beluga Lake. It takes a nice, strong wind for that!

Skijoring: I read about skijoring races in the Alaska Cross-Country Ski Magazine, so I knew it had something to do with skis, but wasn't quite sure what it was. While skiing up at McNeil Canyon trails this winter, I met skijorers on the trail several times. It is basically dogs pulling the skiers. Since there are so many dogsled dogs around here that are already trained in the art of pulling, it is no surprise to see skijorers on the trails. I can see the conflict, though, since dogs can rip up nicely groomed trails. The McNeil trails are dog friendly, which would explain why the skijorers end up there.

Mountain biking the cross-country ski trails: While cross-country skiing on the Roger's Loop trail earlier this winter I came across a guy on a mountain bike biking the ski trails. Huh? Why not, I suppose? The bike had super-fat tires, like maybe 3 times fatter than your normal mountain bike tires, so I suppose the frame had to be a little different to handle the fat tires. Other than that, it was a normal bike. Gee, why didn't I think of doing that??

Ice racing: Once Beluga Lake freezes over in the fall the ice racing begins. Lanes get plowed in a big oval and souped up junker cars race around every weekend. I've seen as many as 30 or more cars parked around the arena filled with people watching the drivers' skill on ice. Last year we went during the Snow Rondi winter festival and actually found it quite entertaining.

The sports that I considered somewhat risque in Michigan are pretty blase here: rock climbing, ice climbing, dog sledding, telemarking, float plane flying. I read about a 100 mile cross-country ski race through the interior of Alaska, with the description making it sound like a Survivor show. A drive through Turnagain Pass makes it clear winter sports are the rage as people strap on skins and ski up mountains for the joy of skiing down them, and deaths from avalanches are regular occurrences as people snowboard and snowmobile mountain peaks and slopes.

Some people think we were pretty daring to move to Alaska and actually live here. We feel like we have a nice life here, but it is pretty boring compared to the adrenaline junkies of this state.

Thanks to wikipedia for the skijoring picture. Every time I see these things I want to pull out my camera and get a picture, but most times I am not carrying my camera when I'm out skiing, nor taking pictures while I'm driving. Darn!

Winter Scenes

2010-03-30T13:35:00.006-08:00

I am always entertained by the number of people around Homer who 1) do not have driveways or 2) do not have driveways in the winter and have to walk, snowshoe, snowmachine or ski to get to their homes.

The area by Lookout Mountain on Ohlson Mountain Road is one great example (and where all of these pictures were taken on a recent weekend).

Near the cross-country ski trails the pictured sign is posted, requesting that people please not park along the road, as that is their "driveway!" The cross-country ski trails weave in and out and around some of these homes. They are what I consider truly Alaskan homes: cabins, log, old, and a bit crazy perhaps. Most have outhouses, many are tiny, and all have lots of character. Some are quite a ways from the main road, and I wonder what kind of person would want to live so far away from people and put up with the extra challenges of getting to their home during the winter (and during spring break-up too, as the mud would be more challenging than the snow).

Some people actually do try to have driveways, and the result is what you see in the above picture--a narrow alley between walls of snow that probably gets blown over every day. Some of these people must be recluses, because a vehicle will get buried in the snow and not get dug out for a week or more.

There are homes all over the area that don't have driveways to the house, including our next door neighbor who has to walk by our house, across a bridge, down a hill, and across another bridge to get to her house! She has been hauling stuff all that ways for 15 years now! It just makes me shake my head. I am not going to say I would "never" do that, because it seems like every time I do I end up doing what I said I would "never" do! I might! ( :

Cochlear Implant Technology in Alaska

2010-03-14T11:09:00.006-08:00

When I moved to Alaska I didn't really think about the availability of medical resources. One friend I know, though, has had to fly to Seattle to see an arthritis specialist until last year when one finally came to Anchorage. Cancer treatment means a trip to Anchorage as well, and going to doctor appointments is one of the common reasons people from all over the state visit Anchorage.

My audiologist had suggested that I might be a cochlear implant candidate a few years ago, but I pooh-poohed her suggestion, not realizing what a cochlear implant really was. When I was helping at a ski race a few months ago a stranger came up to me, pulled off what looked a hearing aid and said, "This is my cochlear implant and you need to get one!" I was taken aback but intrigued. Come to find out it was the mother of the Homer Women's Nordic Ski Team coach which I belong to. I had mentioned my hearing impairment to my coach and she had pointed me out to her mom, so she knew who I was. A day standing at the finish line of the race chatting opened my eyes to a whole different world.

I had pretty much not even considered getting a cochlear implant since moving to Alaska since I figured I would have to fly to Seattle for all pre- and post-testing. As I found out, there are audiologists in Anchorage who do all the pre-testing, the 2-3 hour surgery happens in Seattle, and then all the post-op support and rehab happen in Anchorage. Though Anchorage is a 4-5 hour drive, that is short compared to flying to Seattle. I got in touch with the audiologist, found out I am a candidate, and am now waiting for insurance approval. A visit to an ear, nose & throat specialist will be next on the list, and then a pre-op physical. A non-profit in California will fly my husband and I down to Seattle at no charge for the surgery. We'll be there 2 or 3 days, fly back to Anchorage, the implant will be 'turned on' and then the serious work begins.

When an implant is turned on, if a person can hear any sounds or understand any words at all they are doing incredible. Most people, though, get their implant turned on and might not even be able to hear the microwave ding. The sounds are now electrical impulses rather than acoustical, so the brain has to re-learn how to hear sounds. On the other hand, everyone is different. Sonja, who got her implant 2 years ago, was able to hear almost perfectly when she was 'turned on.' That is the exception. Since there are no auditory rehab specialists in Homer, my rehab will be done with computer programs. There could be up to 6 trips up to Anchorage needed for follow-ups, tweaking the programs in the implant to sound more like I want them to sound.

Northern Hearing Services, where I went, has helped over 200 people in Alaska get cochlear implants, many of them infants or children. They work closely with the cochlear implant companies to provide good follow-up service. When a person has learned to hear with an implant, their hearing often becomes equivalent to a normal person's hearing. Many people, having gotten one implant, often want their other ear done as well. They figure it couldn't be much better than getting the first one, but many are stunned with the incredible quality of sound of bilateral cochlear implants, and the second is as amazing as the first.

The lesson I learned here is not to assume that just because I'm in Alaska doesn't mean services aren't offered. All it takes is the right doctor or specialist to want to live in Alaska and open an office to make a service available to all Alaskans.

Snow Day!

2010-03-08T18:56:00.003-09:00

Friday morning dawned like any other snowy morning--there was just a lot more snow than usual, all of which had fallen during the night. Since snow days are non-existent here (volcano days are more common), it wasn't even on Doug's radar as he headed up East End Road. However, when he got to McNeil Canyon School and the plowed road ended, he figured there must not be school. Upon turning on the radio he discovered that was the case, and a call to the superintendent confirmed it.

In 25 years of McNeil Canyon Elementary School's history, they have not once had a snow day. I'm still surprised a foot plus of snow overnight would cancel school for all of Homer plus the Old Believer schools at the end of the road. It wasn't blowing and visibility was fine, but I think that amount of snow maxed out the small squadron of plows (read: dozers and graders).

Now it is Monday night and we have a blizzard warning for tonight, which means winds 25-35 mph and gusts up to 50. We've already had a foot-ish of snow today and shoveled our driveway twice. I think my husband is not happy I talked him into not getting a snowblower! But I would hope he enjoys the workout as much as I do! Ahhhhhh. Fresh air! How invigorating!

Mooooooose!

2010-03-03T19:31:00.004-09:00

When we were in Michigan we had a family ritual that went like this: every time we saw cows my husband or I would call out, "Say hi to the cows!" We would all chime in "Moooooooooo!" Then, "Say good-bye to the cows!" "Moooooooooooo!"

Since we never see cows here, our new mantra is "Moooooooooose!" whenever we see a moose. Lately, that has been one, two or even three times during a few mile drive to town. Yesterday as I headed to the Bay Club down Kachemak Drive I saw two people walking on the snowy road ahead of me. I thought it unusual for anyone to be out walking on such messy roads, but as I got closer I discovered it was the back end of a mommy moose and a baby moose, trotting side by side down the road. They veered off the road as I neared, with junior taking the lead.

Then I got to the club and settled on the exercise bike and lo and behold! A moose was kneeling on the lawn eating grass, gazing benevolently at the building (now why didn't I think to take my camera to the Bay Club with me??!!). The entire hour I was on the bike he traveled only a few feet in one direction or another and finally darkness hid him from sight. No one else was paying any attention to him; it is just like watching a horse or cow graze--and just how long can you do that?!

Seeing lots of moose this winter has been a blessing. For a good eight months before that I hardly saw a single moose and I was afraid they were gone. While it is neat to see them in our yard, it is also a little disconcerting since they can be very aggressive and unpredictable and I don't always want to have to think about them every time I run outside. Mostly though, I would rather have them around than not, and I have been happy saying "mooooooooose!" a lot lately!

Home Visits for Sick Cars!

2010-03-02T13:44:00.005-09:00

House calls for cars? What a treat!

Last week I called our mechanic who used to 'live across the canyon' from us way up near the end of East End Road (see my blog post in November 2007 about 'Picking Up My Car!'). Now that we live near town getting oil changes has been more of a mish-mash of getting it done wherever we happen to be. But I was in need of the oil change as well as getting some other things looked at so I'd called up Steve from Turbo's Way. My schedule last week was crazy as I was constantly shuttling kids to swimming and other practices so it didn't happen. I was delighted when Steve pulled into my driveway this morning and offered to change my oil on the spot. Whoooo-weee! So I got to get dinner ready (I usually prep dinner at lunchtime) while my car got oiled, fixed and checked over. Somehow I feel kind of spoiled.

Ohlson Mountain Revisited: Weekend Fun in Homer

2010-02-21T15:28:00.006-09:00

Last year our trips to Ohlson Mountain consisted of dropping off Aurora for snowboarding. Another Christmas vacation to Alyeska renewed our interesting in skiing, and we were able to find used downhill ski packages for both Doug and Denver, opening up the possibility of skiing at Ohlson Mountain each week (no local rental place).

A season pass of $125 for the family makes this an economic reality, though the benefits are not excessive: the rope tow is only open Sunday's from 11-4, it doesn't usually open till the end of December, it is not groomed, and it is, after all, a rope tow. The Kachemak Ski Club that runs it is a nonprofit organization, and the tow operators are all volunteers pieced together from week to week, often pulling from whomever is there and trained.

The slope has never felt crowded, though most weeks I would say at least 50 or more people are out there. Most are kids (85%); parents usually just drop them off and then come to pick them up a few hours later. Some people out there are very good while others are beginners. It really is a great place for kids to get experience on skis since it is local and relatively cheap. A lift ticket at Alyeska might start at $45 per person, so you don't just bop in there for an hour or two like we do at Ohlson Mountain.

The rope tow is my nemesis. The first week we headed there this year we skied an hour, took a break for a half an hour and then skied another hour. We were all exhausted after that, and spent the week complaining about how sore our (shoulders, back, neck, hand, arms, wrists--choose any of the above and add your own) were. Ouch. The skiing was fun; the rope tow was torture. I missed 3 weeks of Ohlson Mtn. fun and returned last weekend. I had 2 goals: get a video of the rope tow and actually ride the rope to the top. I got the video: I got on the rope, got Doug to get on right behind me to help hold the rope up, and away we went! I held on as long as I could with 1 hand, which is what you see in my clip (I hope it works!). I didn't make it to the top. At the end of our 2 hours we got all our gear, backpacks, poles, etc. that were scattered around and all got on the rope at once. Doug went first, then Denver, then me. By that point my arms were exhausted from a couple hours of holding on, and where the mountain gets really steep at the top I just couldn't hold on any longer. I fell off it and sidestepped the rest of the way up (15 feet maybe) on my skis. My arms were, literally, shaking from fatigue. I am no wimp; I've got plenty of muscle mass and I lift weights and exercise daily, but that rope tow gets me!

Last week's snow was a fresh 6 inches of wet stuff. It was a day made for bombing: we would get off and just bomb straight down the hill. I go faster on my cross-country skis! I considered my job to "groom" as much of the hill as possible with my skis in 2 hours, and I did a good job!

All in all, it is a fun place to go every weekend, it gets us out for family fun, and the kids get better so when we go to Alyeska we'll get our money's worth!

Ice Cleats, YakTraks and Studs--Necssary Footwear!

2010-02-17T14:52:00.004-09:00

Signs like this are a common sight around Homer. This winter has been very mild, with temperatures dipping below the teens rarely, and 40 degrees not unusual. The mild temperatures have meant lots of rain, which turns into lots of ice! Thus, comments like one of my friend's, "I need to put on my chains," refers to putting on some sort of ice handling footwear. Yaktraks are popular, as are studs and cleats.

I have often joked this winter that there ought to be a new Olympic sport: icewalking! I have gotten so used to walking on ice as I traverse my slippery driveway from house to cabin. As of the past couple days, the ice has melted to the point that dirt is showing through, so now we'll have the mud problem rather than the icewalking problem. Take my pick!

High Tide on Bishop's Beach

2010-01-31T17:32:00.005-09:00

One of our favorite places in Homer is Bishop's Beach. In the winter, though, we don't get down there as often, expecting it to be too windy and cold. Saturday, however, was sunny, calm and relatively warm at 41 degrees so we headed down to the beach for a walk. As we drove up and saw Beluga Slough flooded, I grabbed the tide book to see how high it was. Wow! We had arrived at the peak of a +22 tide, one of the highest of the year! The normal thoroughfares for vehicles were under water, and the normally sparsely populated beach was "packed" with 20 or 30 people (as you can see from this picture). I had to chuckle at our definition of "packed." Call that one an Alaskan special!

Normally one can walk the beach 15 miles from Homer to Anchor Point, but we didn't get far before we were clambering over driftwood. Speaking of driftwood, that was such an unusual sight to have such a high tide that the driftwood was drifting that we weren't the only ones stopping to look at it which is why I took a quick video of it!

Very high tides are followed by very low tides, and a -5.3 was going to happen that night at 8:45 or so. If we hadn't already had plans for our daughter's birthday party we probably would have gone on down there. I've never seen a tide that low, and it was a beautiful, clear night with a nearly full moon. What struck us, though, was that to go from a +22 to a -5.3 is a 27.3 foot tide differential, which is one of the tradmarks of Cook Inlet tides: they have some of the greatest changes of any tides in the world. It sure makes things interesting on the beach!

A Visit to the Big City

2010-01-18T10:02:00.009-09:00

Teaching online classes and homeschooling has freed us up to travel so the kids and I tagged along with Doug last week as he traveled to Soldotna and then Anchorage for conferences.

Even though we've been to Anchorage a lot this year compared to previous years (about once a month compared to every 2-3 months), it is still a culture shock for me to go to "the big city." It took us 40 minutes to go 3 or 4 miles during rush hour traffic, there are homeless men/panhandlers on many street corners, the malls are like malls everywhere and I couldn't tell what city I'm in (kind of like airports).

A trip to Wal-mart was the greatest culture shock of the trip. It had been well over a year since I'd set foot in a Wal-mart. I am used to Ulmer's in Homer, the local drugstore/pharmacy/sport shop/rental place, the sort of small town catch-all shop that dotted the country before Sears, Kmart and Wal-mart took over the country. I was in awe at the wide aisles and the humongous array of choices. There was well over half an aisle of body washes alone, with dozens and dozens of choices (don't people use soap anymore??). And finally, the huge variety in ethnicities also amazed me. I know the Anchorage School District has over 100 different languages represented among the children attending school in Anchorage, but it seemed as though there was a wide representation right there in Wal-mart.

My favorite part of the trip was discovering the outdoor speedskating rink near the intersection of C and 40th Streets. My aunt and uncle told me about it recently, and said it is hotmopped daily, making for an beautiful 1/4 mile track conveniently located in mid-town. We had about an hour before we needed to be at the hotel to pick up Doug from the conference, so we swung by.

It had snowed a few inches the previous day but the rink had been cleared though not hot mopped. It was smooth ice, and despite being right next to a slew of office buildings it was nice to be ice skating on such a large rink outdoors. The Chugach Mountains rise in the distance, as seen in the picture to the right. It was a gem that will have me hauling our ice skates to Anchorage whenever we go up there in the winter.

We're small town people, but as far a cities go, Anchorage is a decent city and we enjoy the shopping, recreation and restaurants. Ironically, most people we've met who live in Anchorage consider Homer a distant and foreign place that is a long, long ways away, while to us the drive to Anchorage is a quick 5 hour hop, skip and jump. If we lived in Anchorage, we'd be the same way: why leave when you have it all right there?