Hello winter!

Well the weather has officially changed up here in the last frontier, and we are well on our way to winter...already. The past week has seen mornings in the upper 20's and today when I got in my car to head to work it was a balmy 22. The cold isn't so bad, but we are getting our first windstorm this evening and it's been a bit blustery. Luckily, the wind is blowing out of the east and not the usual winter NE, which makes for quite a chilly day.

One thing is for certain, experiencing actual seasons really makes you appreciate the beauty of the natural world. Everything has died off or gone dormant for the season and it's a wonderful thing to know that come april life will spring forth out of the ground once again. In Florida, I never really took notice of seasonal changes until the last few years I was there, until I really got into surfing or began exploring the natural areas around oviedo and seminole county. Experiencing these changes forces you to face the world and be more in tune with whats going on in the world...well at least the natural world. No longer can I leave things outside, or expect to have the sun heat the house first thing in the morning, or even count on the fresh produce we have been recieving for the past 4 months. The time for layers is upon us, and I don't mind, because with this change comes snow, and powder and the revelation of experiencing the beautiful alpenglow on the peaks of the talkeetnas and the chugach. I can't wait for Erin and I to be able to head up to hatcher pass or even just around the corner and experience the pinkish hues on the mountains while traversing the trails on cross country skis. I love it here. We love it here and every day is a new suprise.

A little lunch break penning

I began the day in the Field by driving up to Buffalo Mine Road. The road follows the canyon, winding and bending with frost heaves, rolling dips, non-existent shoulders and eventually steep drops to Moose Creek on the Northeast side of the road. As you head deeper into the canyon, the walls begin to grow and the road eventually reaches the lower reaches of the canyon walls, with rolling benches heading North towards the castle mountain fault at the base of Arkose ridge, within the coal shale filled Moose Range, part of the Talkeetna Mountains.

My duty today was to remove all signs and flagging from the Buffalo Mine Road fire area and then place boundary markers and signs around the new firewood area we have set up. I always enjoy these days because it means time alone in the woods, a clear conscious and the sounds of a fall breeze blowing through the spindly poplar and aspen leaves. The past two days have been especially beautiful, the hues of orange, red and yellow foliage glowing brightly under the puffy clouds and snowcapped mountains of a Fall day in Alaska. The colors are bright and beautifully arranged as if painted by a master. The Fireweed glows yellow transforming into bright reds, filling up meadows often as far as the eye can see. Sometimes, if you’re lucky enough you can reach a meadow filled with fireweed blanketing the understory and willow trees that scream the color of a yellow raincoat, glowing together and begging for you to stop, watch, listen and wonder in quiet contemplation. The silence in the meadows is broken only by songbirds fluttering through the branches of the willows, singing to each other as if commenting on the beauty of the day and discussing when the first big snowfall will be.

Today unfortunately was not one of these cloudless days. A front moved in yesterday evening and filled the sky with low hanging clouds, blanketing the higher peaks with decent snowfall and leaving a drizzle among the lower and warmer portions of the valley. Still, the scenery is beautiful and I am thankful for a day of work out of the office. When I began to reach my destination, I decided to drop the truck into 4x4 and push my way up into the timber, better to get my truck off the road. My first destination brought me along the edge of Moose Creek, at the base of the canyon leading up into the Moose range. As I opened my door, I heard what I initially thought of as a dog howling, after all this is Alaska and many people have sled dog teams, especially in this area. While I stewed on this for maybe a few seconds (really how much someone can stew on something in such short time I do not know), I came to the realization that, no this was not a a dog but instead the deep bellowing howl of a wolf. I began to wonder how safe I was, after all I was about 5 miles from the nearest large road and there were serious numbers of Moose out here. As I peered in the direction of the yelping and howling something caught my eye, first a quick glimpse between the yellow birch leaves; then gone. Then I saw what looked like a very large grayish/white dog, with an unusually bushy tail running down the side of the canyon across the other side of Moose Creek. …WHOA. I had just seen two wolves and I couldn’t have been more exhilarated and fearful. I strapped on my 12 gauge and brought my bear spray with me, because for all I knew they were going after a Moose on the River, or coming to check out myself and the rig. Being alone in the woods is a beautiful thing, but being alone in the woods, with predators and no access to immediate help can be very intimidating. I made my way around the property, eventually cooling my nerves by listening to the sounds of birds, a comforting sign that no predators were lurking in the tall grass or among the willow and birch saplings. I had probably overreacted on my initial thought that the wolves were interested in me, and I’d like to say I had a dances with the wolves experience, but no, I was nervous, and I still have that suburban uneasiness when I first enter the bush alone. I think it will only fade with time, but until then a can of bear spray will do my nerves good.

We all think we understand what it took to homestead on frontier lands, the hard work and toil, but I don’t think until you truly have to face some of the harsh realities of the real world that you can truly understand how hard life is. Reading stories that lead others to idolize people like Chris McCandless, kind of make me cringe. The wilderness is no joke. It’s not there for the taking. I don’t think those of us at home in the suburbs, with our gas heating, cable tv and 16 oz mochas can understand how dangerous these penned images can be. The fear of the unknown is very real, and if you wander out there unprepared and let it take hold of you, your mind will run wild with awful images and originally unforeseen consequences. Since moving to Alaska, I have so much more respect for people who really took it upon themselves to move away from home, search for their niche in a community or in the wilderness and then actually succeed in doing so. The quiet, the immense beauty, the hard work and sometimes the failures of well thought out plans are all very special parts of life up here in the last frontier. I guess what I’m getting at is that real happiness can only come from being connected with something you love, something you have put sweat and tears into, toiled hard hours to succeed at and no amount of money, computer programs, game consoles or hilarious prime time sitcoms can change that. I hope people can understand what I’m saying and not just laugh or shrug this off because it makes them uncomfortable to think about their place in our culture. Too many people make decent wages but look unhappy or just unenthusiastic about anything. Thus, I will end this note, the rambling thoughts of a man who has the distinct pleasure, honor and very appreciated privilege of being able to work in the woods. It’s wet and pretty chilly out there right now, but who cares, I’m working in the woods and the sun is trying to break through the trees. Perhaps I’ll find some more wild currants, I’m tired of seeing only cranberries over here, because I’ll tell ya, wild cranberries are certainly not the ocean spray variety…whooeee are they sour. Ok, no complaining, I hope anyone who reads this has a wonderful day as well!

Whoa now!

Well it's definitely been a very long time since I've updated and I apologize for that. Summer time is hectic here in Alaska, and seeing as it's so short and the days are so long, we are usually out of the house most of the time. Erin and I are getting in to the swing of things, her working at trailside camp and me for the Division of Forestry.

From what she's told me and what I can see, Erin loves her job...at least the getting paid to be outside part. She comes home smiling most days, and I try too as well. My crew and I have been doing work all over south central, AK and it's been a really humbling and learning experience. These kids are so smart and I feel honored to lead them through these resource projects.

As for news on the homefront, Erin and I love our place and all of our flowers and fruits are in full bloom. Pretty soon we are going to be inundated with fireweed honey, raspberries, cranberries, rosehips, watermelon berries, strawberries and others. We've been trying to utilize as much of our natural bounty as possible and it's been a neat experience. The weather has finally warmed, relatively speaking, to a constant mid 60's to lower 70's when it's very sunny. It's been beautiful but of course mixed with days like today...I'm fogged in and feel like we're in Seattle.

I'll have Erin update next, but seeing as she's out bike camping in Eklutna for her job, it'll have to wait. Love you all!

Alaska at its best

I just want to say I love Palmer. It’s a happening place. Let me outline my day for you. First off I must admit I should have ridden my bike the 4 miles into town instead of driving. Oh well, I will do this tomorrow. It’s a beautiful springtime 45 degrees and we are in transition from winter to green springtime. I ate lunch today at one of the new restaurants in town called the Red Beet Café. It’s a pretty neat little place and every week they run a Friday art and tapas showcase. The food is all locally grown or butchered and the meals are perfect size. Also, on Friday evenings they have live music for a few hours. This was my first meal at the Red Beet and it went well beyond my expectations, it was fantastic. I’m writing this update from Vagabond Blues, our local coffee shop, located about 2 blocks from the Red Beet, just past the old train depot and borough library. I love this town and it’s getting better every month. I just have this great inclination that things are happening here and unlike most places, there’s a real attempt to keep local business alive and commercial consumer giants out.

Besides the red beet, a few more places recently opened up. A long time coming has been Turkey Red, a new restaurant serving locally baked breads, poultry and pork along with only organically and sustainably grown produce. This restaurant is really neat and adds another nice touch to the cleaned up downtown area. In the same little plaza (not ugly strip mall, but small plaza on the strip) there is the Valley Winery and a few boutiques. The winery is a really cool place where you make and bottle your own wine, and then let it ferment there. They sell wine making kits as well, and they are all about educating people on making their own beers and wines, which is pretty simple considering the amount of sugary goodness that naturally covers this beautiful state (blueberries, rosehips, strawberries, crabapples, cranberries, raspberries and fireweed).

On top of all this, my friend Tony just opened up a new bike shop, so we now have a locally owned and operated bike store to cater to Palmer residents and in going with the trend it’s in the downtown business section of town. There’s a real sense of community here and it blows away any notion I ever had of a small town, it’s beautiful. People care for each other, watch out for one another and always lend a helping hand. There’s no question about giving a person walking a ride to the top of the hill, or helping someone with car trouble. I imagine this is what Erin’s hometown Vero Beach used to be like before the developers and businessmen got their hands on the small beautiful beach town. I can’t wait for the festivals, carnivals and fireworks this summer all which will take place in downtown. I know this “downtown” district sounds weird since I’m describing a small town, but it’s kind of a misnomer. The “downtown” is a 2 block wide strip that is maybe a quarter of a mile long, with homes and residences spread out across an easily accessible grid system, just as most people would picture the quintessential small town USA. There are no strip malls, shopping malls, 1000 acre suburban sprawling developments (yet and hopefully for a while), billboards or overly manicured lawn areas.

It’s local, it’s natural and it’s beautiful. I think to put the icing on the cake, today I saw elementary school teacher walking their classes down the sidewalk to the library in town, while kids walked the streets heading to the bookstore and coffee shop, as cyclists rode by to head to work or play. As they say…Palmer: Alaska at it’s best.

aurora

been watching the Northern Lights the last 3 nights. You may also know this occurrence by its other nomenclature such as the “aurora”, the “aurora borealis”, or simply…“the lights.” It’s a pretty spiritual thing to watch these waves of bright light dance on the cold night sky, twisting, twirling, bulging and glowing among twinkling stars and snowcapped mountains. The lights bulge with intensity and then fade, sometimes lasting for hours, other times as quickly as a few minutes. At first you simply think to yourself…Hey, where’s that light behind the mountains coming from, what’s going on over there? You see, it’s a strange thing to see new lights on the horizon here, especially when not coming from due south. Light pollution is still pretty minute; so a backlit mountain range to the north throws you off kilter a bit. But then all of a sudden you realize, oh yeah, nothing up that direction for the next 300 plus miles, the lights must be going off!

It’s pretty weird at first, but then you just stand there dumbfounded and awestruck, silent in the winter night, staring up towards the heavens in silent unknowing praise. It’s so quiet at this point, I mean so deafeningly blank, that you can hear your heartbeat as you breath in and out trying to take in this glorious site…that is until everyone seems to oooh, ahhh and hoot all at the same time.

It’s a pretty beautiful thing, the northern lights. In this age of scientific explanations for everything, answers to supposedly all our problems, and a technology to remedy any malady…there’s still something that’s so spiritual and perplexingly mystical about this world. Science can explain the how, and possibly the what; but there’s no way anyone will ever prove the why. Why do the northern lights happen and what’s the point? Yes it’s electromagnetic fields; yes it’s photons from solar flare periods reacting with those fields; but why? No one knows, and I think its best that it has stayed that way. There’s too many answers for everything in our world and sometimes it’s still good to have a faith and belief that there’s still something special out there.

Update

Whoa, it’s been a while since I’ve updated. I can’t type much because I have to go work at Sherrod Elementary for a bit but I will quickly post some pictures. Needless to say, Erin and I had a great honeymoon in Jackson, Wyoming. It’s a place of great natural beauty and of beautiful people as well (as soon as you get below the surface façade of recreation industrial tourism). We had a great time snowboarding, saw some amazing artwork, enjoyed the classic Americana of Wyoming and the conversations with many a local residents.

These pictures are from my camera. We didn’t take many because, well, we were having fun. Erin has some great pictures, a lot better than mine, but I haven’t downloaded them yet. Maybe I’ll put them up some other time.

Erin bootpacking lower Moran

Same caption as above
Resting in the sun after attempt at the boulder section
Hiking up to hit some fluffy pillows!

Went up to Hatcher with Rob & Sierra today. Of course, after spending time making sure I could properly fasten my snowshoes to my pack, I promptly forgot my snowboard boots, thus making it wholly impossible for me to test my pack out. In the end, this dilemma turned out to be alright, and I was pleasantly surprised at how fun jumping down a mountainside with snowshoes on could be. It was pretty insane, you would just jump through the air and take 4 – 5 ft. leaps down through the fluffy stuff. The picture and short video I’ve posted are from our little avalanche pit we dug at the top.

On the drive up, the snow looked decent enough, but upon ascending the ridge we came across multiple signs of potentially high avalanche danger. Luckily, we were on a pretty low angled slope and could choose better options down. Near the top there was a large slab of wind and sun crust. This didn’t seem too bad until rob saw a propagating crack in the snow pack that started at sierra’s foot and ran about 20 ft. down the slope.

Sierra beginning to dig a pit. Notice the top layer.

Crack of settling snowpack under our weight

Holding a block of slab material

Size reference

This slab equals bad news. We had 3 weeks of frigid conditions with no snow. The snow turned mostly to facets (sugar snow), which would have been great skiing. Then it warmed for a week and wet heavy snow and rain fell on the mountains. This wet snow froze, became windblown and now has sun crust as well. The faceted snow from the cold weather has almost no support capability and acts like balls bearings under the solid slab of frozen snow on top. This leads to high avalanche danger. It was a good day to practice our avanlanche skills, that’s for sure.

Notice the sugar snow falling from the block:

This block from under my feet weighed about 30 pounds.

Rob holding the same piece. Close to 6 solid inches of slab!

Holding a piece of slab in one hand, and a handful of ball bearing like sugar snow in the other.

Sierra & Rob inspecting the chunk

The video shows how the hard layer on top has very bad support from the faceted layer of sugar snow beneath it.

Beauty in the eye of the beholden

The snow is blowing in from the Northeast in drifting white versions of dust devils. The mist of snow is picked up by the cold winter wind and blown clear across the frozen fields of hay, only to land god knows where; in a gully, against a tree, pulverized and sucked of all moisture until it evaporates completely. The sky is a deep gray haze, a blustery winter day if I’ve ever seen one. The winds are howling at around 30 miles per hour, and the blowing snow has increased to blowing snow and precipitation. While the grayness is dreary, it adds a sigh of relief to nature, a return to precipitation and a quick respite from bitter cold and moisture sucking arctic sunlight.

The snow is beautiful, no matter the color of the sky, but what’s even more beautiful is the way a snow drift piles against bails of hay, hiding from the wind behind other snowflakes, building up until the snowflakes make a windblown, semi-wind proof barrier. A cornice of sorts, yet only set behind rolled bails of hay. The deep brown of the hay, lingering through the coldest winter days, has been frosted ever so slightly by a layer of white fluffy snow, resembling confectioner’s sugar coated on top of a tasty cinnamon roll. The whole scene of blowing snow is backdropped by dark, tall and foreboding stands of spruce/hardwood mix forest, the tall trees swaying in the wind like divinely made metronomes swinging to the beat of some distant drum.

It is a beautiful day. God bless!

Copyright Art by Erin 2008

Well, for some reason that I don’t know I decided to give skiing a try today. As a pretty die hard board sports fan, I really hate to admit it but skiing was so much fun. It was more muscle intensive, better balanced on my knees and felt way faster. The technicality was very surprising to me. I will definitely keep snowboarding, but I’d like to try skiing more as well. For the deep powder stuff it’s a snowboard all the way, but for groomers and minimal snow, the skis are killer!! I somehow managed to pull off a few black runs in my first day. Hey, I guess the skis count as boards too right?

The weather was amazing with clear skies, misting crystals of snow and plenty of sunshine to warm up the snow into a buttery pleasantness. I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the story telling!

Girdwood, AK

Rob in the Glacier Bowl

View of Upper mountain from chair 6

Carrie not looking and Sierra making a weird face

Snow or Ice Crystals...either way it looked cool

View from bottom of High Traverse

Top of Chair 6 looking north

Elusive Florida Skunk Ape

To top off the day, on the last run we saw a rainbow rising vertically out of the center of town above a single light cloud dropping snow on the valley. The Rainbow had no arch but shot straight up into the sky. I thought about taking a picture, but figured that a photo would never do something so beautiful any justice…it just never does. Tomorrow back to the daily grind.

Sun and Moon

Well school started this week and again I have been extremely busy juggling with school and working as a substitute teacher. I have a job interview on Monday with AK Fish and Game, so perhaps my days as a sub are numbered…we will see. On another possible high point, Erin and I might get the cottage up by Hatcher Pass that I went to look at. I think I’ll find out some time next week.

While I’m not extremely enthused that I have to spend all day in Anchorage for my rock climbing class, it could be a lot worse. I think the best part of the day occurred on my drive home, about 10 miles outside of Palmer. As you come down from the foothills of the Chugach Mountains, you cross the Knik and Matanuska rivers and then enter an area known as the Palmer Hay Flats. This seems to be some type of tidal estuary or marsh, but most of the time it is not really going through huge tidal changes. Geologists think the land used to be lower, but when the Chugach Terrane ran into the continental shelf of what is now the Talkeetna mountains something like 30 million years ago, the land rose quite a bit, leaving stunted black spruce and meandering creeks in its wake. The area used to flood every spring, but decreasing snowfall since the 1960’s have left less melt water or mountain runoff.

Ok, back to my drive. So these Hay Flats sit at the edge of the Cook Inlet, and looking due south, the horizon is open with no mountains except for the Chugach and Talkeetnas on the sides of the valley. It’s amazing how perfectly these two mountain ranges frame a sunset, which just so happens to occur right in the middle of the valley to the south. All of a sudden I looked left across the hay flats and to my amazement, I saw the most beautiful twilight scene I’ve ever seen in possibly my whole life. The sun had already set leaving the sky a dampened pinkish orange. To the left or southeast side of the valley, a sliver of moon had risen just of the peaks of the Chugach. This sliver of moon had a background of bluish-purple sky melding into the orange and pink in the center of the valley. Rising in uniform parallel formation from the horizon and stacked into infinity were line of cirrus clouds, rising ever higher and only widening with the valley as your eyes gained elevation. It was as if a giant V of clouds was filling up the entire Matsu Valley. These clouds had the background of orange and pink, and as I looked time seemed to stop so that I could sit their, mouth agape, staring at this beautiful display of god’s infinitely great wisdom and choice of location.

Perhaps it’s just the way we as human beings perceive what is beautiful, but I can’t help thinking that this place was created by a higher power. Everything here is in motion, working together, and in a way that it all fits into the scheme of subarctic winter weather cycles, which will eventually give way to summer and high sundogs in the sky, and then again turn into the beautiful harvest moon of September. All of this perpetual motion of nature and change must have been planned, at least at some point by someone or some thing; it’s just all too perfect...and fragile. I only hope it stays that way. I don’t know if I could stand to see what has happened to my beautiful home state happen here.

Thanks a lot Punxatonie Phil

“Dude, it warmed up to 5 degrees, let’s head up to Hatcher!” These are words I never thought I would hear myself say, let alone live out. You see, this morning started out a balmy 20 below, but in all honestly it felt as cold as it did yesterday. They say that once it drops below zero you don’t notice the temperature change, just the effects on your skin. It really wasn’t so bad. Our plans to head to Girdwood for a Superbowl 2 for 1 lift ticket day were quickly heading down the drain. It was going to be cold, windy and there was no new snow. So, instead of heading south to the Gird, I made some rounds around the farm, stopping in for a chat with Steve in the moose cabin and discussing numerous things, then off to say hellos to Kelly and Jonathon who were dog sitting for Steve and Anne Corinne. This quick jaunt hi with everyone turned into a 3 hour morning of delightful conversation among many cups of coffee.

Talkeetnas & Chugach Ranges

All the while the sun was making its perpetual cycle, slowly increasing its brightness and intensity due to the low angle sub arctic latitude. By the time we were ready to even think about heading out, the sun had cleared high above pioneer peak and was heating everything in sight. The thermometer, which happened to be in direct glorious sunlight, jumped quickly to 10 degrees above freezing. Not a temperature for a picnic or a dip in the river, but certainly agreeable for a nice ski or snowboard, albeit with 2 layers, and full facial protection (at least for my face…beardless).

Pioneer Peak over Mat Valley

The thermometer lied a bit, but by the time we got the crew together up at Hatcher, it was a steady 4 or 5 degrees above zero. Carry, Kelly, Jonathon, Sierra, Rob and I ran about 5 or 6 runs at the mile 16 roads runs. It was pretty fun, the left side of lower marmot was pretty tracked up and skied out, but farther to the north there was untouched powder and great trails through low alder and willow thickets. It was a blast and the cold was no big deal at all, especially with the glaring sun to deal with. In fact, I’m almost positive my ears are sunburned from skinning up the triple benches at Murphy road yesterday, and having to remove gloves, hat, jacket and vest due to a serious sweat I worked up. I mean, it was 10 degree and I was hatless and gloveless, I was seriously that warm from the trek.

Anywho, it was a great day, the Pats lost, and Pat Williams won the game for the giants, oops, I mean Eli Manning. Back to work tomorrow subbing at Colony Middle. It’s not so bad, and it’s hilarious to listen to the things the kids say. I'll have some video up tomorrow hopefully, but nothing too great, and perhaps we will have a third night of northern lights, I keep passing out before they shine in all their triumphant neon brightnessThe pictures were taken just before sunset, overlooking the Matanuska River, and as soon as the sun went down, so did the temperature again…it’s going to be a chilly one tonight. BRRRRR!

Moose Range of the Talkeetna Mountains
(Hatcher Pass)

Welcome back to the last frontier!

I’ve made it safely back to the North Country. My flights weren’t too bad, although I did get stuck in front of the exit row where your seat does not recline. I would complain more about this, but I made no concerted effort to move. By the time it started to bother me, we were half way between Seattle and anchorage and I just gave in and slept. The flight was pretty sparsely populated, so it wasn’t all that bad, I just slept on my side.

When we landed I was pleasantly surprised to see a pretty good amount of snow accumulation on the ground in Anchorage, over a foot in some spots. This was not a foot of new snow, but inches piled on top of inches. The difference this time is that it stayed. It wasn’t snowing in the urban metropolis of Anchorage (haha that’s funny) but as soon as we hit Eagle River the snow increased and became steadily thicker as we came closer to the valley. The temperature was about 17 when I landed in Anchorage and 11 when we pulled on to the farm at about 1 in the morning. All in all, considering this is the coldest month I am pleased with the temps I’ve observed.

My roommate had to let me in for lack of key, but she was still awake, therefore I only felt a slight guilt in bothering her. She’s really cool and I think we might head to Alyeska today. I don’t know why, but I really enjoy opening up peoples eyes to the wonder up here. I feel like if I give them a slight push towards all the options, than maybe I can influence them to get out and explore on their own. In the summer time I had minimal guidance in finding and scouting places to head in the outdoors, but I guess I did alright. All I did was get off my butt and head out…into the wild. Well, not really but in a sense of the manner that is what I did. Snow was a little more precarious, so I was really fortunate to have Sierra and Rob give me a heads up on some stuff and I also met a few other people from the mountaineering club that gave me some pointers. That’s what it’s all about, people sharing the desire to be in the outdoors. A tip from a person will only go so far, so I really took it upon myself to explore the option and get dialed in. I’ve learned a ton and I still have so much more to explore.

Perhaps this bug for exploration is what drove Shackleton to tackle the Antarctic, or Hillary to attempt a summit at Everest, or even Magellan to circumnavigate the globe. There’s this strange human instinct to find what’s around the next corner, to always keep going around that next bend. They say that is why people lost in the wilds should stay put, because the constant searching around the next bend just leads you further into the unknown. It’s good to know when to say when. There’s one instance where I’ve explored some of Hatcher with my friend Jonathon, and we began down Reed Lakes Trail and had to turn around. We were 5 miles from the road on cross country skis already, the sun was extremely low on the horizon and all we had for warmth were our fleeces and thermals. We’d left our outer shells back at the car because it was relatively warm (about 25 – 30) and we had no plans to continue past the reed lakes trail head. We carried about 30 ounces of water each and lacked any food to keep the body warm. The trail was calling us and the conditions seemed right for exploration. We headed off the main trail, skimming through low alder and old tracked snow about 1 to 2 ft deep. The trail descended and rose rapidly, and the alpenglow rising rapidly along the mountains in archangel valley meant we needed to make it a quick jaunt. We headed down the trail for a ways and stopped at a step below a massive granite peak. We could see the trail wrapping slowly up the side of the valley and towards the glacier, intermingling among car size boulders and patches of alder, another 5 – 8 miles away. The sun was waning quickly and we therefore decided not to press on, but to wait for another day. This trail leads to an old mine and the reed glacier, so I think I’m going to make it an overnight event. I will update more tomorrow and try and get some pictures up.

The last few days have been filled with a somber happiness.  Erin and I are married now, but as quickly as it happened I now have to head back to Alaska for school.  I'm looking forward to returning to school in Alaska, to hanging out with friends and playing in snow but I can't help but feel a melancholy cloud sink over me.  I'm leaving Erin again, and there's no other way to say it.  It stinks.

This past week has been filled with joy from seeing old faces, sharing old stories and toasting to good times with friends. but every time I forget the good times will end, some one gives me a hug and reminds me that I won't see them for a long time. It's very sobering and definitely puts a downer on any situation.  I can't be mad at anyone though.  I miss everyone so much, but Erin and I can't put the next phase of our lives on hold to hang out in Orlando.  If there's a caveat to these moments, it's knowing that the good times were so good because we all planned to "move on" or "get out of here."  Erin is extremely ready to get out of Orlando, and any thing I try to stay to focused her on finishing school sounds, well, stupid.  I have full confidence that many people will come visit us up in the north country, and vice versa as well. We've just signed up for the Alaska Airlines frequent flier car, so we've excepted the fate of carbon consuming giants. I don't care though, there's nothing as important as family and friends, and not seeing these people is not even an option.

  

On the topic of family and friends, I was extremely touched that so many people came to be part of our wedding, especially those not in our family.  The Scius' from France, Jesse from Washington, Matt Rossen from Boston, Ryan and Kelly, Joe and Kristen and then the dozens of other people who I had not seen in a very long time.  It meant so much to Erin and I to have all these people at the wedding, I almost started tearing up before the ceremony even started. Ok, damn, I lied...I did tear up. All said and done it was a momentous occasion.  Today I have to begin sending packages up to Alaska, the first of many many packages. Our gifts are piled up in the garage and Im sure they've begun to irk Erin's room mates quite a bit.  

Like I said, I'm ready to return, I'm just not ready to leave Erin.  She's slowly increasing the pleads for me not to leave her, not in a serious manner but more of a; You bastard, you're leaving me here in this dump while you go play in the snow type of manner.  It's ok, I accept this guilt trip with smiles and provide hugs.  If only I could just go play in the snow.  As soon as I get back I need to start working and looking for a better job.  Subbing is great but there's only so much a person can stand. 

Oh yeah, I'm bringing back two things that weren't on the wedding list.  I name them and not wedding gifts because I find it rude to single out wedding gifts on this weblog, especially since all of them were so great.  Sig, Erin grandfather had a bolt action, 12 shot magazine 22 rifle.  Lynn gave it to me because she said it was of no use to her or Mike in Vero.  The rifle looked pretty ancient, so we gave it a look on the old internet and found it to be between 30 - 60 years old.  It's a Mossberg 22-S-LR.  A pretty sweet little shooter if you ask me. It's not going to bag me any moose or bear, but it's a great little gun, and very accurate to boot.  Dustin came over with his cleaning kit, and we shined, oiled and polished her right up. She shoots like a beauty and has the weight and barrel length of a larger caliber and more powerful rifle.  The other gift was a fly fishing rod. Spencer handed this down to me for some unknown reason, and literally would not let me say no.  It's good to have great friends, and I only hope I can return the favor some day.  Fly fishing is not easy, but I like it, it's complicated, technical and takes more effort (I.e. it's not as boring as laying a line out there and reeling it in).  I've been practicing the last couple days and I've almost got the cast down, just need to work on a couple of more techniques.  I can't wait to try this stuff out up in AK.  I'm leaving the rod here until May when Erin and I drive up north, so she'll probably dominate the Fly fishing category in our family.

FOG and clearing of the mind

I didn't sleep too well last night, so I gave up around 6 in the morning and got up.  After feeding the animals I for some ridiculous reason decided to turn on the TV and watch the news.  I've missed a lot of large news stories over the past months, mainly due in part to my lack of television, but also to my growing lack of interest in what is considered "Thorough and good news."  Watching the ridiculous political stories play out like a B movie made my stomach queasy.  There's really no better way to say it other than this; American news media is crap.  Where are the real stories?  I want to hear about the economy, what's going on in congress, is Iraq still going on?  These domestic issues are of great importance to not only myself but to other Americans as well.  More importantly, in the eyes of American News outlets, it seems there are two maybe three regions of the world; The United States, Western Europe and China.  I dare not say the middle east, because in the eyes of the media the middle east runs from Libya clear across the Asian subcontinent to Persia, an insulting geographical trend that I am embarrassed by.  

Why aren't we hearing more stories about India, Indonesia, Korea??  Indonesia has the largest muslim population in the world, with many terrorist activites; yet we hear nothing about them in the news.  Korea has nuclear weapons!  What's going on there...I want to know because they ACTUALLY have WMD's.  India has a vastly increasing middle class, created by western nations needs for cheap labor.  They've been so successful that now they need to outsource jobs as well...oh yeah, they also have nuclear weapons.  

Instead all we hear is long and drawn out, supposedly "expert analysis" of who said what and who's a point above who in the '08 presidential race. What happened to solid leads and actualy journalistic research? The media has already narrowed down the winner to be a democratic candidate, Hillary or Obama.  This is evident in their lackluster and minute coverage of any republican candidate. This omission of a conservative and GOP candidate race also annoys me.  News is supposed to be objective and unbiased! Probably the worst story this morning besides the constant bickering between Obama and Hillary, was the story about the golden globes.  WHO CARES!  Educators, law enforcement, rescue workers and service corps don't have million dollar award ceremonies where they constantly inflate their egos and pat themselves on the back. Why should I care if the golden globes were "a bore."  I understand wanting to follow and know about celebrities, but honestly who gives a hoot if their awards were a bore, guess they can't go out and get wasted or pregnant and then publish it in the newest issues of Us or People....I miss my lack of TV.

Ok, on to better things.  Erin and I get married this weekend.  WOO HOO!!  To say I'm excited is quite an understatement.  Both of our families as well as most of our friends will be here and it's going to be one hell of a time.  I would write more about this monumental occasion, but I will just let the suspense build and update next week.

I took Cody to the state forest with Sean, Pat and their dog Brutus.  we went canoeing/walking upstream for about 2 or 3 miles.  We all traded off walking at some point, and it required crossing the tannin filled brown water of the Econolockhatchee River.  What an adventure it was.  With Cody following in toe I had to run through the brush, sandal clad, eyeing spider webs and thorn covered smilack vines.  You either ran along the bank or in the brush, but when the brush got too thick or the wall of the riverbank too high, you had to ford the river and swim across.  It was a little hairy, but the cool water and cooler rains kept the gators at bay.  At one point Brutus, Sean's dog, jumped across the river and up the other side, chasing two or three huge river otters up the bank and into a secluded den; it was a pretty amazing site.  

After I had crossed the stream, I came upon the mountain bike path I used to ride.  My sandals became only a hindrance, so opted to throw them in the canoe and run the trail barefoot.  This may sound stupid and asking for an injury, but I felt confident I would be alright, after all, our ancestors managed for thousands of year, I figured I would do okay for a mile or two.  I ran up and down hills, over roots, nimble as I could be.  Cody and Brutus followed, and I felt very free.  There's something very primeval and enchanting about running through the forest barefooted, with only a light pack on your back and not a care in the world.  My feet made almost no sound as I ran the trail through saw palmetto, cypress knees, leaf litter, over logs and gullies and back down to the river.

We got to the bridge over the econ and hung out as the thunderstorm passed.  We waited under the bridge with several bikers, hikers and horseback riders.  We decided the rain probably wasn't going to stop and that it was better to brave the far off thunder than wait for the storm to worsen.  The three of us jumped in the canoe and paddled downstream to our launch point.  The dogs ran and swam behind and in front of us most of the way.  It was pretty neat to watch the dogs interact and keep up.  Cody was a little nervous that I would leave him, but once he got the hang of things he was in and out of the water, running up on the ridge or bank over logjams and under palmettos frawns.  It was a very wild experience and also a great way to shed some of the haze that suburban living will put over your mind.  It's weird to see that even our domesticated animals miss the freedom and, need I say "call of the wild."  Cody is a pretty free dog, and he's much more at home running in the woods than laying on the couch like most dogs. It was a good day.

I'm backkkkkk.

I cannot believe that my last post was on November 29th.  I've truly been neglecting my blog (I hate that term) and my wanton need for writing down things I experience.  I've been in Florida, the sunshine state, since December 15th and much time has been spent enjoying the company of both mine and Erin's families.  Since I don't have much to do besides make sure Erin stays calm for the wedding, I've been doing a whole lot of reading and enjoying the outdoors.

I completed the monkey wrench gang, and have started another book entitled "The Good Life."  It's basically a book outlining how this couple, Scott and Helen Nearing, decided to leave New York City and live self sufficiently in the Vermont countryside for 60 years.  While I don't wholeheartedly agree with some of the anecdotes and ideology that went into their decision, I do fully understand why they left "civilization."  The Nearings were pretty much social anarchists, wishing to not partake in wars, business, or social undertakings that had anything to do with a market economy based on greed and bourgeois lifestyles (they began their leap from new york in the midst of the great depression, following the roaring 20's).  The topics they cover are as important now as they were in the 1930's, and I could only imagine that the two would have a stroke on the spot if they were standing here in Orlando, Fl.  Ok, back to the core subject of the book; how to live a self sufficient life. Outlined are practical and easy methods for laying out gardens, constructing buildings and living off the land.  I'd like to try some of their techniques, and I'm pretty excited to make an attempt at this in Palmer, Alaska.  I'm disgusted with Orlando and the still rapid suburban/commerical expansion.  It's like an amoeba of economic interests spreading and filling every gap of natural ANYTHING in central florida. None of these new buildings will last, yet the construction never stops.  What would George Hayduke do in my situation?

On a lighter side, it is nice to experience some beautiful Florida scenery.  Although I could do without the ticks, chiggers, fleas and car exhaust (whoops, there I go again).  Erin and I have gone on some nice walks, out in Geneva and around Oviedo.  It's amazing what you can do with a little local knowledge.  Erin had an infestation of fire ants in her compost pile, so while walking a Black Hammock, we plucked some pennyroyal (a low sprawling plant from that mint family that flowers in early spring) and placed it among the compost detritus.  It's two weeks later and still no ants.  I miss the pines and flatwoods of central florida, they way they stand open to the sun with saw palmetto running like a green bladed carpet as far as the eye can see. But, unlike the pines I can honestly say that I'm not so sad that I left the swampy mess of cypress and hydric hammocks.  People really are not supposed to live here.  where would Florida be without AC and dehumidfiers?  Better off I bet, but maybe not.

 Ok, one more thing before I go.  I miss my friends.  There's a rift there that I haven't experienced before.  Not so much with Mikey or Dave but it's very apparent with Dustin and Spencer.  I can only assume that this is something that happens when friends move apart. Do not get me wrong, I do not expect my friends to stop their lives and hang out all the time while I'm here.  I think it's maybe just the fruition of people going about their lives, taking what it brings and going with the flow.  That what I did while I was here in central florida.  I truly feel like an outsider here, and I cannot wait to save Erin from Orlando, Florida...The city...beautiful?  These were and still are not trivial friendships, so I know it's not that big of a deal.  What we all need is a good campfire and some beers to laugh stories over.  Where Jesse and I have grown close, others that were best friends seem distant.  Perhaps I have changed a whole lot and I don't even notice it, but I know I'm happy so there's nothing I really want to change.  Anywho, just some ponderings of a man who feels out of place in a city that is supposed to be wonderful and bountiful.  There are upsides here, but I'm finding it harder and harder to see them.  Erin is certainly ready to move, so who knows where we'll be in ten years, washington, oregon, california?  Only time will tell.