...but now I see

I was sitting in a coffee shop in downtown Anchorage, killing time and playing on the 'net. I had been there for several hours on account that I had almost 12 to slaughter. Anyway, it was the kind of place that locked their restrooms to prevent non customers from wandering in and relieving themselves; the key was tied to an espresso filter and left laying on the counter. All this was explained in a sign on the bathroom door

A blind man comes into the shop, wagging about his cane. He goes over to the restroom-- I think nothing of it. About ten minutes later, I too needed to use the facilities. I get the key, head to the restroom, and find the blind man and his cane patiently waiting outside, apparently under the impression the lavatory was occupied-- clearly, he was unable to read the sign.

Overcome with a sense of awkwardness, I returned the key to the counter and fled into the gray Alaskan afternoon.

It occurred to me that this might have made me a terrible person. Karma confirmed this.

At the airport, right before boarding the plane, a man says to me, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Larry the Cable Guy?" I, quite frankly, wanted to die. I hurried onto the plane and sat down for my five hour flight, only to discover a banshee infant to my right and an ape-like child napping to my left. The ape-like child was very well behaved for the entire flight; the banshee child lived up to it's name.

I am very tired.

Out of the Wild

As I type this post, I'm sitting in a coffee shop in downtown Anchorage, buzzed on caffeine, waiting for my plane. I'm leaving Alaska after a little more than four months.

I know that my posts from Alaska have been scant-- filled with pictures but containing little substance. I've been busy, and when I wasn't busy, I was lazy. And I was at work quite a bit. And sometimes I was hungover. And there was a period where I didn't have my laptop. And another period where I didn't have my laptop charger. But enough excuses. On my last day here, let's talk about Alaska.

Alaska is a beautiful, beautiful, wild place. I went on several hikes that I will remember for ages. The landscape is vast and harsh, overwhelming and bewitching. I was almost attacked by a moose. I got to pet a particularly curious fox on a drunken night on the way home from the bar. I got within twenty feet of a black bear who was thankfully indifferent to me. I rafted on a glacier fed river. I bathed in a stream miles away from the nearest person. I saw the northern lights dance across the sky. I explored the state capital, inaccessible by road. I wandered the biggest city, Anchorage, and enjoyed a street fair and a baseball game (starting at midnight and utilizing no artificial light) in Fairbanks. I dosed acid and wandered through a music festival, convinced something big was happening. I had an incredible live music experience at the World Famous Denali Salmon Bake with the Stumblebum Brass Band. I cooked a grouse, and ate part of a moose and fresh caught Alaskan salmon. It was four months filled with amazing experiences.

I went there to work at a gift shop, and let's be honest, that was awful. It was the worst job I've ever had. The place was poorly ran, the employers were indifferent to the employees, and the customers were generally rude and haughty. I met several people thee as well-- some I enjoyed and others I delight in never having to see again. I made several assumptions about native Alaskans, seasonal workers, and Alaskan tourists that are negative and irrelevant to this post. I do not regret my time here.

What do I regret? I never made the 9 hour bus trip out to Wonder Lake to photograph Mount McKinley. I never camped overnight in Denali National Park. I never got a good view of a grizzly bear, and never saw a wolf or a bull moose sporting a giant set of antlers. I never made it north of the Arctic Circle. Alas-- there's always next year.

I do not think I will come back to Denali next year, but I think I will return to Alaska. The Kenai peninsula looks inviting. Maybe a short weekend trip up to Denali to do some of the things I missed? We'll see. Right now, though, it's back to New Orleans

Monkey Gone To Heaven

Earlier in the summer I got a ticket from the Alaskan State Troopers. An open container violation demanding $210 from me.

One afternoon earlier in the summer (the same night this picture was taken, it so happens, although it is doubtful, nay!, plain wrong, the date of this encounter was July 1) we went out to Windy Bridge to explore and initiate Alex and Danny into life as an Alaskan summer worker (these pictures were taken just before the law got involved-- once again, though, not on the 21st of June. In fact, I looked at my citation; all of this occurred on June 21st. Whatever.). Anyway, we drank a few beers, opted not to litter, and carried several empty bottles back to the car. Unfortunately, some of us were far drunker than others-- Danny opted to run around the bridge with a bottle in hand, attracting the police who, after applying breathylizers to the group, wrote us all these tickets.

However, as the judge was begrudgingly forced to admit, Alaska's open container laws apply only to the driver of vehicles, not passengers. So we got off. We fought the law, and we won. The monkey (one of many) is off my back. The cop almost cried, he was so disappointed.

American justice. Fuck yeah.

Time Traveling No More

Well, I've finally caught up, and just in the nick of time. It took more than a month, but I finally got all the pictures from my Alaskan adventure posted, and right as it is coming to a close. So no more going backwards to see the posts-- everything from here on will be in real time.

And, as an update, I leave Alaska on the second of September to go back to New Orleans to complete some projects there (more on this in a later post). I'm seriously debating returning next summer to save money to leave the country. That, however, remains to be seen.

Climbing Mount Healy

I knew that I had hurt my knee more than a year ago while wandering about on the Appalachian Trail. How bad was a mystery. I have hiked at least a hundred miles since coming to Alaska-- many of those hikes with some steep portions. Despite that, I was not ready for Mount Healy. Constant uphill climbing and winds battering at least 45 miles an hour (there were times when, quite literally, I was blown down) my knee gave out about two thirds of the way to the top of the 5000+ foot peak, forcing me to cower down from the gales and wait for Joe to finish. I'll never be a mountain climber-- just a hiker. However, the section of Healy I covered were spectacular.

the mountain

tropical storm force winds, at least

point alexander

Savage River

It was a beautiful day for a hike along Savage River.

a hoary marmot

Polychrome Pass

I took an evening bus trip into Denali to see Polychrome Pass in the westerly light. Simply unbelievable.

caribou, running

mighty Teklanika

caribou keep their heads in the brush to ward off mosquitos

Long Time Gone

It's do or die.  I feel certain that if I don't start posting these pictures from Alaska (this huge myriad of pictures... there are oh so many) I may never and the blog will fall deeper into decline.  So I'm going to start posting.  Text is more difficult, so I'm going to keep it to a minimum.  I'm also going to attempt to keep things on a vague chronological order, although the dates on the posts are likely to be not near the dates of the actual events.  Anyway, scroll down for all the Alaska pictures-- they'll be coming soon.  

Oh, and by the way, merry Independence day.

The Krewe

A group photo, encompassing almost everyone... and at least one utter stranger.

Exploring Old Healy

Old Healy is thus titled because it was to be the site for the town before it... wasn't. Quite frankly, I don't know why the town was moved... probably something to do with the highway coming through. Anyway, the original site is a lovely area filled with sand cliffs and greenery.

J and K

Piper, the resident border collie

Kelsey and Nikki

Overview

Daredeviling under Windy Bridge

Windy bridge takes the George Parks Highway over the Nenana river between Healy and McKinley Village. It is thus named because of the speed of the breeze whipping through the canyon. We hung out here one afternoon-- drank some beers, watched the river, and balanced our way across somewhat oblivious the the drop below.

Rafting the Nenana beneath the bridge. We rafted earlier in the summer-- good times!

Johnny, giving a shining example of the kind of ridiculous shenanigans we should not have partaken in whilst drinking.

On the Cruise: Harbour Seals

Embrace the cute. Just wrap it up in your arms and make it part of you. You know you can't resist.

On the Cruise: the Sawyer Glacier

The Sawyer Glacier, a magnificent and mammoth sheet of ice, was the climax of my day cruise. Standing on the ship, staring at the wall of ice (the photos do not do the size of the thing justice), watching with bated breath as chunk broke off and fell crashing and tumbling into the sea, was one of the most dwarfing experiences of my life.

On the Cruise: the Tracy Arm Fjord

According to the Wiktionary, a fjord is a long narrow inlet between cliffs. That is true. I will supply the fact that they are often formed by glacial movement; my captain will supply the opinion that the Tracy Arm Fjord rivals those in Scandinavia and New Zealand. That I cannot attest to, although I can attest to the utter beauty of the Tracy Arm.

These photos do not do justice to being amongst the cliffs, surrounded by such wild natural splendor.

On the Cruise: Icebergs