The High One/Leaving Alaska

I left Fairbanks yesterday, to begin my trip out of Alaska and back down towards the "lower 48", as the Alaskans call it. But I had a few more adventures before I left town.

Primarily, I went to Denali National Park for two days. This is a confusing park, so let me start by giving some information. Mount McKinley is the English name for the mountain, Denali is the native name. It means "the High One". The original park was "Mount McKinley National Park", but has been expanded several times, and is now larger than the state of Massachusetts. When it was expanded, the name was changed, too, to the Denali National Park and Preserve. Here's how it works. The original park is now the Denali Wilderness. This portion of the park contains the mountain, and is maintained as wilderness; there's only one road, for bus use only. Humans must pack out everything they carry in, and no hunting or fishing is allowed, even by the natives.

The second part of the park is Denali National Park. It surrounds the wilderness. Subsistence hunting, fishing, and trapping is allowed in this portion of the park by Athabascan natives, who've hunted and fished on that same land for millenia. Finally, west and south of this area is the Denali National Preserve; both subsistence and sport hunting and fishing are allowed in the preserve.

Anyway, I took a bus tour that day. It started at the park entrance, and traveled westward 62 miles to the Stony Hill Overlook, where we were supposed to be able to see The High One itself. Unfortunately, it was hiding that day, and I only saw one very small portion of the left side of the mountain. But I did get to see and learn all kinds of interesting things. First of all, tree line out there is only at 2500 feet, due to the harshness of the climate. Tundra line is at 4500 feet or so; above that the mountains are solid rock. At 6000 feet is the permanent snow line. Secondly, Denali has one of the highest actual mountain climbs of any mountain on earth, and is higher than the climb Mt. Everest. (For instance, in the Colorado Rockies, the mountains peak at 14,000 feet or so, but the climb begins at 10,000 feet, for a vertical climb of 4,000 feet. At Denali, the mountain "starts" at an elevation of only 2000 feet, so the actual "climb" is 18,000 feet.) It takes 2-3 weeks to climb Denali.

I also got to see lots of animals. The "big five" at Denali are Grizzly Bears, Dall Sheep, moose, caribou, and wolves. We got to see all of them except for the wolves. And we saw at least 15 grizzlies, and probably twice that many caribou. (I even saw a grizzly fishing -- which I'd been expecting to see at Kodiak, but instead saw at Denali! The bear literally stands in the water, then snatches a fish right out of the water with its snout, and shakes it violently. Then it digs right into its newfound feast.) The Dall sheep were cool, too -- there was a caucus of rams high on a mountain summit, like a group of men at a meeting. I saw golden eagles (bald eagles, which eat fish, lives primarily along the coast), beavers, snowshoe hares, and two types of squirrels.

I also took a very cool hike at Denali, which had been recommended by Caroline. It is the Mt. Healy Overlook Trail, and it's pretty tough, with grades of 25% in some places. It takes 3-4 hours. Unfortunately, I didn't get to make it all the way to the top, because I had a (slight) mishap. I feel almost as stupid about this one as I did about falling into the water in Kodiak: I sprayed 100% DEET into my left eye.

It happened like this: I was hiking uphill, and started getting hot in my multiple clothing layers. I gradually stripped off all of my layers, until I eventually got down to my t-shirt. Unfortunately, the mosquitos then decided to come in for the kill. So I opened my trusty camelbak and took out my super-duper Alaska-strength DEET. I sprayed my right arm, then my left, and then I rubbed the stuff on my face. But then I realized I hadn't gotten the back of my right arm. So I tried to do a quick spritz to that area. Unfortunately, I didn't realize the sprayer was aimed right at my left eye. So I sprayed directly into it. Yes, it burned, like crazy. Yes, I was alone. No, I didn't know what the possible side effect of this would be. And yes, I had my contact lenses on. So I lifted my camelbak and did a pseudo eyewash with the water, even though I couldn't open my eye fully for fear I'd lose my contact lens and not be able to see well enough to get down. And then I had to make a decision about whether to abort the hike and go to an ER to get checked out, or to continue on the trail. The DEET bottle didn't say that I needed to go to an ER, so I decided to continue hiking for a little while. But my eye kept hurting after another hour, so I finally cut the hike a little short and went back down to my car and my glasses. Fortunately, my eye was red and tearful, but my vision was okay. I made it back to Fairbanks without too much trouble. But I felt like an idiot. Apparently, I'm not too good with this outdoorswoman stuff....

Friday, Caroline and I went to Pioneer Park in Fairbanks to take some old-fashioned pictures. We bought a disk of the photos, so hopefully, I'll be able to post one here! I've never done that before -- and although I don't think I ever would have come up with the idea, it was fun taking the pictures. We decided to look like bad-ass, gun-toting saloon girls. I was the saloon maven behind the bar, and Caroline sat atop the bar.

When we got back to Caroline's house, I piled my things into my car, and left Fairbanks. Today, I arrived back in the Yukon, to a town called Haines Junction. I cannot believe the Alaska portion of my trip is over; it seemed like it was so far away for so long, and now it's over. Finishing the Alaska portion also means that my Possibilities Tour is half over. It's strange; I definitely feel like I've changed during the trip somehow. I feel so fortunate to have this time away from work, to see the world and explore a bit. I've loved spending time with old friends whom I haven't seen in years, in most cases. And I feel present, in a way which I haven't felt in a long, long time. But now, I feel sad, and a bit lost -- like even though I still have three months left in this trip, that it's already over, somehow.

I hope that the second half of my trip provides me with a new opportunity, to see the possibility of exploration, fun, and authenticity, even in the midst of everyday activities. I hope that I develop some habits which I can maintain, even after I go back to Atlanta and my "normal" life and job, so that I can see the world through the eyes which I have now, the eyes which appreciate the beauty, uniqueness, and real in the "unremarkable" events of every day.

One final note, just because it's interesting to me: the days shorten very quickly in Alaska. When I arrived in Fairbanks on July 13, sunrise was at 0346, and sunset was at 0008, and it really never got dark at all. When I left on July 30, sunrise was at 0444 and sunset was at 2308. So literally, the day was two hours shorter than when I arrived only 17 days previously; each day shortens by about 7 minutes or so. And I started using my headlights to drive on July 24, when I drove home from the Eskimo Olympics at 1am. This was notable, because it was the first time since I'd arrived in Alaska that it was even dusky enough to require them. It's still not dark dark, but it definitely looks like late twilight now, as opposed to when I first arrived, when I was sleeping in what looked basically like very early evening. The change has been pretty dramatic.

Eskimo Olympics

[*****More photos to be added later; I am having trouble uploading them to the site.*****]

Some things are too amazing. Truly. And some of the best things in life cannot be planned, they just have to happen spontaneously. Such is my experience with the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics, or WEIO.

I returned from Kodiak Thursday night, and found out the the WEIO had started on Wednesday, but would continue on until Saturday. So I went by on Friday, thinking it would be a fun way to spend the afternoon. Well, let me just say that it was one of the most interesting things I've ever done in my entire life. I stayed all day Friday, then went back on Saturday morning, and was there until after midnight Saturday night. It was truly incredible.

Let me just tell you about some of the events I saw -- photos truly cannot show you these events. I strongly recommend you check them out on YouTube:

• Two-foot high kick
• One-foot high kick; considered the premiere event of the olympics; the male gold-medalist tried (but failed) to tie the world record of 9' 8"
• Ear pulling; by far, one of the strangest athletic events I've ever seen. It's supposed to demonstrate one's ability to withstand severe pain. Yes, blood was drawn. And Caroline, who was working in the ER that night, saw some patients from that event who came in with ear lacerations.
  
• Ear weights
• Knuckle Hop; the strangest event which required SERIOUS athletic ability. Just watch it on YouTube....there's no way to explain this one. It's supposed to simulate a seal hopping across the ice.
  
• Blanket Toss; this one looks like serious fun!
  
• Seal-skinning
• Fish-cutting
• Native regalia competition
• Native drumming/dancing competition
  

Other events, which I did not see, because they occurred on the first two days of competition:

• Alaskan High Kick (another strange one to look up)
  
• One-arm reach
• Four-Man Carry
• Drop the Bomb
• Stick Pull (Eskimo style and Indian style)
• Arm Pulling
• Toe Kick
• Native Baby Regalia competition
• Miss WEIO competition
  

So, bear with me while I wax philosophically for a moment about the blanket toss. Here's how it works: 40 random volunteers FROM THE AUDIENCE go to the competition floor, to be the "pullers". The blanket is actually nine walrus skins sewn together into a large blanket, with a rope attached around the perimeter of the blanket. The pullers wear heavy gloves, and pick up the blanket and pull it taut. They then start waving the blanket up and down in sync, to form a trampoline of sorts. The competitor then gets up on the blanket, and the pullers start waving the blanket up and down to get the competitor started bouncing. Then they count to 3 in some native language, and yell some non-English version of "go!", at which point, they literally throw the competitor up in the air. The competitor then does some sort of trick, and then has to land back on the blanket. Each competitor gets a total of three jumps. Each jump is scored on height, the "trick", and the landing. The pullers, by the way, have to watch the jumper, because he/she doesn't always go straight up -- so the pullers have to move the blanket to make sure they catch the jumper. Jumpers can reach heights of 40 feet or more during this event.

Here's the thing: I can't get over the fact that the pullers aren't selected by the jumper, but are just random volunteers from the audience. Seriously, can you imagine the Summer or Winter Olympics where, if there were an American jumper, he would trust his score and his medal chances to some random volunteers? Heck no! He'd be worried that someone would try to throw the competition. Each jumper would come with his own cadre of 40 pullers. But apparently, that's not the way the Alaskan natives think.

In fact, I noticed that all of the competitors helped each other out in every event I saw. It was pretty amazing to see how friendly and helpful they all were to each other, rather than competitive with each other. For instance, in the high kick events, when a jumper missed the target (the jumper has to kick a target in the air; each competitor gets a total of three attempts to reach the target), the other competitors would go up to the person and comment on what he or she needed to do to improve the jump on the next attempt. They all cheered for each other when one of them succeeded, and they would all hug when one competitor would be eliminated from competition. Even the judges would hug each competitor who got eliminated from competition. Pretty amazing.

I also have to say that the natives are fun to watch and to listen to, in general. They're so happy and smiley, and they have such interesting accents. The main commentator, especially, was cracking me up throughout the two days I was there. He'd be commentating on an event, and then he'd suddenly exclaim: "I smell fry bread....for all you tourists, welcome to the land of fry bread....and seal oil....". After the particularly bloody and painful-looking men's gold medal ear pulling event, he announced: "Well, now. The gold goes to the one young man, and the silver to the other young man...." He was too funny. I asked someone about him, and they told me that he'd been a fierce competitor in many WEIO events when he was younger. But now he is hardly the picture of a master athlete; he's got a huge belly but little stick-legs, and he'd sit, leaning to one side, hardly moving, except for his mouth, which would alternate between commentating on the sports, on the food, and on general topics which interested him. He was hilarious.

During the seal skinning competition, which was really more of a demonstration because the seal hunting has been poor lately (yes, natives actually hunt seals for the competition, then the dead seals have to be flown to Fairbanks for the event), an elderly Alaskan native woman was commentating. Her sister was doing the skinning, and the commentator said "I'm translating my sister's English....to English". Then she'd burst out laughing, like she'd said the funniest thing in the world. There were so many of these funny comments and lines during WEIO. I only wish that there were a way for me to have recorded them, and put the recordings on this journal, so that you could hear them.

Finally, there were amazing arts and crafts at the event. I bought lots of souvenirs: a caribou-hide mask that looks like an Eskimo woman with timberwolf fur around her face like the hood of a parka; a spirit mask that looks like a raven-man; three walrus ivory carvings, and a birch-bark basket with a moose-hide covering and beaded decorations. The crafts are sold by the natives who make them. It was really cool talking to them, and finding out how they make them.

Just in case you're interested, WEIO's 50th anniversary is next year! Trust me, this event is worth the trip.

Oh, and one other thing, for all of my politically correct friends: up here, the word "Eskimo" is used. It's confusing, but basically "Eskimo" refers to two tribes up here: the Yup'ik and Inupiat. They basically crossed from the Bering Strait, and live on the western and northern coasts of Alaska. The other tribes are considered "Indians": Athabascans, Haida, Tsimshian, and Tlingit. They live either in interior Alaska (Athabascans) or along the Inside Passage and the Pacific Northwest (Haida, Tsimshian, Tlingit). There are also the Alutiiq, or Aleutians, who live in the Aleutian Islands. No one uses the word "Inuit" up here, as it only refers to the Inupiat tribe. Basically, if you want to be politically correct, they're just grouped together as Alaskan Natives. There...does that help?

Kodiak!

This is my third visit to Alaska, and each time I visit, Caroline takes me on a trip of some sort. This time, she and her friend Trish took me to Kodiak Island for a four-day visit. It was incredibly cool. We left on Monday from Fairbanks and took two quick flights to get there: From Fairbanks to Anchorage, and then from Anchorage to Kodiak. It was rainy and very dreary on Monday, so we really didn't get to see much that day. But we stayed at the cutest B&B, called Annie's By the Sea, and it was truly by the sea. We saw the shore from our living room window, 20 yards away at most.

Tuesday morning, we discovered two things about our B&B: (1) that we had no hot water; and (2) that we were really in a "bed and make-your-own-darn-breakfast" B&B (i.e., they didn't fix breakfast for us, but instead, had eggs and cereal and muffins and fruit for us to eat in our room). We (or I should properly say Trish) waited around all morning for repairs to our hot water while Caroline and I slept in. When we finally left our room, it was noon. We'd planned to drive around, but didn't have the time since the water repairs took our morning away, so instead, we went shopping at the Kodiak gift shops. That afternoon, though, we went for a sealife-viewing boat ride, which was very cool. The guide took us all around the bays, and we saw lots of animals: horned and tufted puffins, bald eagles, humpback whales, orcas (killer whales)!, sea lions, seals, and otters. It was incredibly cool. And Kodiak island itself is beautiful: the mountain is completely green, but more like a grassy, tundra-green, rather than covered with evergreen trees like in the lower 48. And seeing that green rising out of the clear blue water was amazing.

The next day, though, was the best. Trish had arranged for a float plane (BTW, try saying that 5 times fast) to take us inland, to one of the rivers in the island. We then had a guide who took us rafting down the river to look at wildlife. Kodiak is famous for its bears, called appropriately Kodiak Bears, which are unique from grizzly bears, and they're the most famous inhabitants of the island. But they weren't too interested in showing their faces that day: we only saw 3 of them, and none of them were standing on the riverbed fishing. Apparently, the river was unusually high due to all of the recent rain, and so they weren't able to stand in the water and fish. Instead, they were wandering through the grasses, grazing on whatever they could find. But they were incredibly cute to watch.

We also got to do a little unofficial fishing. I say "unofficial" because we didn't have fishing licenses, and we weren't on a fishing trip. So we had to release everything we caught. But I caught several different types of salmon and a few dolly varden. I wasn't too good at it, but it was fun, for sure.

But the most colorful part of the day for me, and possibly the second most embarassing moment of my life, occurred around lunchtime. It happened like this: we paddled the raft towards a sand bar for a lunch stop. Apparently, the guide told us not to get out of the raft, but I (with my recently-ruptured left ear drum) didn't hear him. Instead, I saw that he was out of the raft. So I, trying to be a team player, tried to get out quickly and help pull the raft to shore. I got one leg out of the raft and into the water, which was thigh-high -- and then the raft started to move, because the guide was pulling it toward the sand bar. At which point, I had a choice: either move the one leg back into the raft, or move the other leg into the water. Apparently, I chose too slowly, because I did a slow-motion splits as the raft continued to move, and then I fell into the water. Caroline and Trish both saw it happening -- and they couldn't speak, they were laughing so hard.

Let me say, for the record, that the water in Kodiak is COLD, and so we were wearing waders. Which was great, until I fell in, and mine filled up with water.

So, when we got to the sand bar, I took off the waders, took off my socks, took off my blue jeans, and tied two jackets around my waist like a kilt so that I could eat lunch. The guide was so embarrassed by my stripping out of my clothes that he ate out of sight distance. Which I thought was pretty funny....I looked like an idiot, but I was fully covered, so he didn't need to be so worried about my privacy.

Anyway, we took a long lunch break while my clothes dried. Eventually, they were semi-dry, and I was able to put them back on, and we continued on our way. The rest of the day was pretty great, even though I was a little cold with my wet jeans and socks.

On our final day in Kodiak, we drove to the south part of the island to see Pasagshak Bay. On our way down, we drove past the Coast Guard base, which interestingly, is the largest Coast Guard installation anywhere in the USA -- about 1200 Coast Guard employees live there. Who knew that the largest Coast Guard base in the USA would be located on Kodiak Island! -- after all, the largest city has only about 4500 residents. If someone had asked me where the largest base was, I'd have guessed somewhere in California, maybe? Or Maine? Anyway, I'm pretty sure that I'd never have guessed Kodiak.

Out Pasagshak way, there were two beaches there which were really nice: Surfer Beach, which has nice long waves, although we didn't see anyone actually surfing them (just one person who looked like he was waiting to get in, but never actually did while we were there), and Fossil Beach, which is calm, with cliffs on both sides of the beach, and apparently has lots of fossils for beachcombing, had we had more time to stay and look around.

That afternoon, we went to a cute coffee shop in Kodiak for a late lunch, and then later that evening, we flew back to Fairbanks. It was a great trip, but quick. I have to say, that I really liked Kodiak. It's very beautiful there, and the people who live there are very devoted to the island. They seem, I don't know, authentic in a way. Lots of the residents are former Coast Guard folks -- they came on assignment, fell in love with the place, and just never left. I dunno what to say, really, except that it grew on me the longer I was there.

PS -- For the record, my FIRST most embarrassing moment? I'll spare the details, but feel free to ask me about the lavender prom dress. It's makes me nauseated, just thinking about it...

Dease Lake, Whitehorse, Tok, and on to Fairbanks

I know I haven't written in a while. I meant to write every day while on the way to Alaska, but the day after my last post I went to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and went out with a random guy that night, instead.

It was one of the longest days of my trip. I drove 410 miles from Dease Lake, British Columbia, to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. I started the trip that morning, and took only one quick break for lunch, at the end of the Cassiar Highway, where it joins with the Alaska Highway. Then I continued my drive to Whitehorse, which my GPS called "Whiteho", and which made me laugh every time I heard it.

I had made a reservation at the super-luxurious Canada's Best Value Inn in Whitehorse (just kidding), and pulled into the hotel to check in, when a guy on a motorcycle pulled up just behind me. Turns out, he'd stayed at the same hotel as I had in Dease Lake, and drove behind my jeep pretty much all day to Whitehorse. When I pulled into the hotel, he figured I "knew what I was doing", and so he followed me there to see if they had a room for him, as well. They did. Then he asked me to join him dinner that night.

We went to a local pub for dinner, and had a fun conversation. He's a marine engineer, and he works on oil rigs. It sounds like a tough job -- 25 days on, then 25 days off. The shifts are either 6-12 or 12-6. So, if he works 6-12, let's say, then he works that shift both in the AM and in the PM, every single day, for the full 25 days, without a day or shift off during that time. But then he gets 25 days off, which is why he was taking his motorcycle up through Canada. After dinner, and a couple of beers, we walked back to our hotel via a touristy sort of walk. It was a nice walk, and it was fun talking with another traveler after so many days by myself.

The next day, I got up early to leave Whiteho for Tok, and saw my dinner companion from the evening before in the parking lot, hanging out with the other motorcyclists. The two other guys are brothers-in-law; one lives in Austin, TX, and the other lives in Maine. They met up in North Dakota, I believe, and then drove up together. Anyway, they were funny guys. They have a system: they drive to a city, get a hotel reservation, and then hit the local bars, which they pretty much shut down every single night. They said they've had tons of adventures, met lots of locals, and really started to get to know a place that way. Which (because I'm an expert at comparing myself to others) made me feel unadventurous and a bit lame.

It took me a few days to realize that my journey is not just for a physical adventure, but a spiritual one, as well -- and that going to local bars every night wouldn't have added to my quest all that much. Instead, I've had time to sleep (which my body has desperately needed), read books (which have given me tremendous insight), write on my blog and in my journal (yes, some of this information is not for public viewing), and look around town a little bit. And that I don't really feel like I've been missing anything by NOT going out every night. And that those two guys might not be doing some of the heavy mental lifting that I've been doing, which is okay for them, and okay for me, too.

Anyway, after departing from my marine engineer, the Austinite, and the Mainer, I started to leave Whitehorse. I was quickly stopped, however, by the sight of Starbucks, rising like a mirage out of the desert (although it was in downtown Whitehorse). So I stopped in and had a Chai, and it was like mother's milk, it was so delicious. I also stopped at a bookstore next door and picked up another audiobook (The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown) to keep me occupied for the drive. It was only about 8:15 in the morning, so I was surprised the bookstore was already open, but the salesman said that the shop is open from 8am until midnight during the summer hours.

That day was my longest, and far away most boring drive of the entire trip. It was 450 miles from Whitehorse to Tok, Alaska, and I had to pass through border patrol in the meantime. But my big mistake was not driving so far, as much as it was that I didn't stop for lunch. So I drove pretty much nonstop, with only little breaks for gas and the restroom. By the time I got to the US border in Port Alcan, I was already tired, even though I was so excited I'd finally made it to Alaska! Unfortunately, I still had 185 miles to drive before I made it to Tok, where I was to stop for the night, and the last 2 hours or so was a bear. But I finally made it to Tok, where I was to stop for the night.

Tok is a weird place. On the one hand, it's the first town in Alaska, and so there are hotels and quite a few shops and restaurants there. It's also a place where lots of tour buses pass through and stop to let the tourists off to shop and eat and rest overnight. On the other hand, it's a town of only about 1400 people, and it's pretty rustic overall, with gravel roads and tundra instead of grass on the ground. But my hotel was comfy, and I slept well (I went to bed at 8:30 pm, which is much earlier than any other night on my trip so far -- especially considering it's bright and sunny at that time of night in Alaska).

The next morning, July 13, I got on the road around 8 or so, and finally, after 7 1/2 days of driving, I made it to Fairbanks! I met up with my friend Caroline, and we went for sushi for lunch. She then took me to her farm, which she didn't have when I last visited. I met her two new horses (she'd already had Miguel, but Lena and Franzi are new), saw the farm, and drove the four-wheeler for a while, which was super-fun. Then we finally went back to her house that night, and I met up with her dogs, Homer and Nali, her rabbit Buns, and her guinea pig Chewy.

The first week in Fairbanks was relatively slow, actually, which was totally fine by me. Caroline worked the daytime shift (7am-5pm) on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and so I slept, shopped for groceries, and cooked dinner for when she arrived home in the evenings. Then we went to a party on Saturday, and she worked again on Sunday. So it was a quiet week. But I had time to rest, watch some tv, and try to sleep in the midnight sunlight of the Alaska summertime.

Up the Cassiar: Smithers to Dease Lake

Well, after two days in Smithers, and one spent retracing my steps to fetch my laptop, I finally continued on my way through the great North. I left Smithers this morning, went west for about an hour on the Yellowhead Highway (16), and then turned north onto Highway 37, the Cassiar Highway. The Cassiar is one of two main routes up into Alaska, the other being the Alaska, or Alcan, Highway. I decided on this trip to go up the Cassiar, and down the Alcan.

Anyway, I had a full tank of gas when I left Smithers, which was really, really good -- because as soon as you turn north onto the Cassiar, there is NO gas. For 200 miles. I mean NONE. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. No gas.

So I traveled for 341 miles before I was able to fill up. And I did pretty well, too, considering I drive a Jeep, which is known for its fuel-INefficiency. I still had almost a quarter-tank when I arrived in Iskut, where I was finally able to fill up, at astronomical prices, given it's in the middle of nowhere.

After getting some gas, I drove for another hour and then arrived in Dease Lake, where I had made a motel reservation. My room here is super-cute -- basically, it's a room in a big log house, and it's quaint and cozy inside.

I arrived pretty early, given that there was NOWHERE to stop in between Smithers and Iskut, so I just drove straight through (BTW, British Columbia has pretty adequate rest stops -- they're straightforward, but clean and safe). I guess I could have canceled my motel room and kept driving, but I have two long days ahead of me now, so I decided that having an early day today was okay by me.

The town is really small (450 people), and I had dinner across the street at the only restaurant in town, Mama Z's. It was a little buffet, and pretty good, but expensive (I guess that's alright, considering it must be hugely expensive to get food out here). My waitress asked where I'm from, so I asked if she lives in Dease Lake. And she told me she lives an hour away, "outside of Iskut".

Outside of Iskut?!? What?!? Really? That little stretch of highway which houses only a gas station and general store? I asked her jokingly if Iskut was the "big city", and she answered, totally seriously, "Oh no, only about 400 people". According to the Milepost, there are only 283 people in Iskut. And she lives outside of it? Where?

Also, the owner, Mama Z, asked me where I'm from. I told her I'm originally from Texas. She pointed on the wall to lots of pictures of visitors to her restaurant. She had several of groups of young adults, who she said came from "Austin University". After we figured out it was UT Austin, and not Austin College (which we discovered, by the way, because she knew the hook 'em horns gesture), she told me that there's a group of students every year from UT which takes a bicycling trip FROM AUSTIN TO JUNEAU to raise money for breast cancer. Last year, they raised $360,000 from the trip -- which is amazing, for sure -- but I still can't get over the fact that they ride their bikes from Texas to Alaska! I can barely even manage this drive, let alone think about doing it on a bicycle....

Tomorrow I leave British Columbia to travel to the Yukon Territory. I feel so cool just saying it: "Yeah, tomorrow I'm going to the Yukon." So phoo on those cyclists; they aren't going to the Yukon, after all, right?

Don't ever leave your laptop....

...and then drive 200 miles before you realize it's gone.

Funny, though -- it started out as a great day. That morning, I left Williams Lake, BC, to travel to Smithers, BC. The total trip was around 350 miles. I drove 150 miles or so up the Cariboo Highway (97), then arrived in Prince George, BC, where I had to turn onto the Yellowhead Highway (16). I stopped at a restaurant for lunch, which I rarely do on this trip, but I felt like it, so what the heck. I'll be driving for a week, right? Why not stop for lunch?

Anyway, I got seated in a corner table, and I remember putting the laptop behind my chair, and then I hung my purse on the back of the chair. I had a nice lunch, then left the restaurant and drove 200 miles westward to Smithers.

It was a great drive, sunny and clear, and the clouds were outstanding, like fluffs of cotton candy with blue, flat bottoms. I listened to music the entire way, and sang along, really loudly. I took pictures out the window, while driving. It was fantastic.

Just before 5pm, I arrived in Smithers and got out of my car to check into a hotel room, and that's when I realized my laptop wasn't on the floor in front of the passenger's seat, like it always is. At first, I thought someone might have taken it while I was in a restroom, but then I realized I hadn't stopped on my way to Smithers. And then, like a slowly growing but very virulent infection, I realized where it was....on the floor, behind the corner table, 200 miles away in Prince George.

OMG. What a f---up. I checked into a hotel, then called information to ask the phone number for the place where I'd had lunch. The operator gave me the number, and I called; the woman who answered the phone said that there was NO laptop behind the table, and that no one had turned one in, and that she'd asked every single server in the restaurant. I went pale, nauseated, green.

An hour later, I recalled the phone operator; she'd asked me if I'd wanted the "central" location or the "Vance" location. I'd said Central, assuming that was the right one....might I have been wrong? I called the operator again, got the other phone number, and called the restaurant: and hooray! They had my laptop! Oh joy of joys!

Only problem was, they wouldn't ship it to me, for any price. So yesterday, instead of driving onward and upward, I retraced my steps back to Prince George, back to the restaurant, picked up my laptop, and then went back again to Smithers.

So, I think yesterday is officially the LONGEST errand I've ever gone on in my entire life. Of course, it's my own fault, but still...

Interestingly, though, the weather was completely different. On Wednesday, it was sunny, bright, and hot (high in the low 90s). I got great views of those clouds, and the hills, and the mountains. But yesterday the high was only in the mid 70s, and it was gray and cloudy and humid as all get-out. No pictures yesterday, other than one of the mountains in Smithers (I believe this is Mt. Hudson). But still, behind every cloud is a silver lining, right? And mine was that I got to see the same terrain THREE times, and each time, it looked different -- and that was really cool.

Sea to Sky: Vancouver to Williams Lake

I left Vancouver this morning to drive up through British Columbia. I'm a little sad I didn't spend more time in Vancouver; it is a gorgeous city. The sky was absolutely blue today, and the city has lovely architecture and is surrounded by water and snow-capped mountains, all of which stood out in high relief on such a clear day. What an amazing place -- I'll definitely have to return to see it in more detail, and to visit Victoria, which I skipped in order to give myself time in Alaska.

I took Highway 99, the "Sea to Sky" highway, from Vancouver northward, past Whistler, and to a town called Cache Creek, at which time I turned onto Highway 97, the "Cariboo Highway". The Sea to Sky Highway was spectacular. The first portion of it, especially, was remarkable; I was driving on a mountain on my right side, with gorgeous blue water on my left. Unfortunately, there were NO turnouts along that stretch, so I have no pictures of it....oh well, that's what a memory is for, right?

I did take some photos after I passed Whistler, when there were finally turnouts on the road, but I'm afraid they don't do the scenery justice. I drove mostly through the mountains and through valleys, but continued to climb up and up, until I finally reached Cache Creek and turned onto 97. The remainder of the drive was through a gently-sloping valley. It made for easier driving, but not nearly as spectacular scenery.

I got to Williams Lake, where I'd decided to stop for the night. Total drive for today was 500 km (around 300 miles), and it took me almost 8 hours, counting stops. I found a hotel, and grabbed some supper at a local pub.

I had the strangest conversation on the way back to my hotel room. While I waited for the elevator in the lobby, an employee of the hotel came up to wait, as well. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hello.

Him: Hello.

Me: How are you?

Him: Fine. Who are you?

Me (thinking he'd asked how I was): Great, thanks.

Him: You're name's Blaine?

Me: Oh, no, I misunderstood, sorry.

Him: Where are you from?

Me: Atlanta, Georgia.

Him: Is that in Saskatchewan?

Me: No, it's in the United States.

Him: Oh, yeah, I've heard of it. It's in Idaho, right?

Me: No, it's actually in the Southeastern United States, on the Atlantic coast. Where are you from?

Him: I'm from Williams Lake.

Me: Oh, so you're a local.

Him: Yeah. So Atlanta....That guy's from there, isn't he? The one who did Thriller? Isn't his first name Michael?

Me: You mean Michael Jackson?

Him: Yeah. Didn't he die?

Me: Yes, he died last summer.

Him: How'd he die?

Me: An overdose.

Him: What's that?

Me: He took too much medication.

Him: You mean he took too many pills?

Me: No, I think it was an IV medication for sleep, actually.

Him: Well, everyone's just dropping dead around here....

And then he got off the elevator at his floor.

Totally bizarre. He looked normal, but his voice was robotic, and there was something not quite right about him.

Anyway, I continue on tomorrow. Until then....

4th of July/O Canada!

I had a really nice holiday. I returned on Friday (July 2) to Camas, Washington, home of Jay and Kris Murray and their two kids, Aiden and Cassidy. Jay is a pilot, and wasn't back in town from working until Saturday, so I had Friday night with Kris and the kids, which was really great.

On Saturday morning, I received the highest compliment possible: I was awakened at 6:40am by Cassidy, staring right in my face. When I woke up, Aiden came into my room, as well. We played in the room for a little while, then went outside and jumped on the trampoline for a while. At some point, Kris joined us and provided me with some much-needed coffee (those of you who know me, know that I am NOT a morning person).

Jay arrived around lunchtime, and we all went out to lunch and then to buy fireworks! Washington state allows fireworks, and so there are lots of little fireworks stores which sprang up between my last visit one week before and this second visit. We bought all kinds of things: things that pop, smoke, crackle, fly into the air, make noise, sparkle, and flash. We did not buy any heavy artillery, though -- that we left for some of the people who'd be attending the party the following day.

That evening, I made cake balls with Aiden and Cassidy. Cake balls are a specialty taught to me by my niece, Gillian, so I figured they'd be good for the kids....and I was right. We had a great time. Aiden and Cassidy definitely liked the licking of the beaters, spatula, bowl, and their fingers best, and Aiden suggested that chocolate cake balls might be better than the vanilla ones we made....too funny.

On the actual holiday, I was awakened early once again, by both Aiden and Cassidy this time. They came into my room, poked me in the back, and asked "Aren't you going to wake up?" So I did, and we played child-friendly truth or dare until Jay and Kris woke up.

That evening was the July 4th party, and it was really, really fun. I got to meet lots of the neighbors, along with seeing Josh and Erin again, and meeting a cousin of Jay's. The company was great, and the food and drink was great, but the best part for me was definitely the fireworks. I've never seen an actual large-scale firework set off! But there were lots and lots of them that night, with the funniest names: purple and green peony, blue chrysanthemum with crackle, shagadellic mojo, etc. (BTW, shagadellic mojo was really cool. I totally expected it to overpromise and underdeliver, but it exceeded my expectations.)

At one point, Jay drove me over to his parents' house....they live up on a hill, and from the deck, we looked down over the valley, and saw literally HUNDREDS of fireworks going off all over the place! Turns out, everyone in Washington buys fireworks and sets them off. From where we stood, it looked like little multicolored puffs and sparkles going off all around us. Really, really cool.

I initially planned to leave for Canada yesterday, but decided against it at the last moment, choosing instead a day to relax after going to bed late on the 4th of July. And it was a good day. I played with the kids again in the morning, and Jay and I had a long talk, which was really nice. That afternoon, Jay and Aiden taught me how to play Mario Cart on the Wii....turns out I'm not nearly as good at that game as I was at Tiger Woods Golf. Oh, well. Jay told me it only takes several hundred hours of practice for me to become good. Yippee -- there's hope for me yet!

Kris had invited me to go with some of her girlfriends to see Twilight Eclipse last night, but I hadn't seen or read the first two chapters, so she summarized the first and had me watch the second movie, in order to get me up to speed. And then I went with Kris, Erin, and two other women to see the movie last night. It was fun, but I'm not sure I'm a "Twihard" just yet.

This morning, for the first time since I arrived in Washington, the weather was clear and cloudless. Unfortunately, there's no time to go back and see Rainier....instead, I packed up and left Jay and Kris's house to begin my Alaska travel adventure. I can't believe it's finally here! I arrived in Vancouver tonight, and it's kind of strange here: on the one hand, it looks just like any big city in the USA, especially with its profusion of big box stores, strip shopping, and restaurants. But my cell phone is roaming, the ATM gave me Canadian dollars, and the scenery and architecture is lovely.

So that's it! I'm officially in Canada, and I leave Vancouver tomorrow for the "West Access Route" to the Alaska Highway. In the meantime, I had a wonderful stay with Jay and Kris, and I'll miss them. Jay's the same thoughtful, quick-witted, super-athletic guy I remember from high school, just all grown up and responsible now, and getting to know Kris and their kids was really special for me. I took a picture of them this morning. Unfortunately, Cassidy was not home at the time, and so she's not in the photo.

As a final note, I've been doing a little thinking as I leave the USA for the next portion of the trip. As I've traveled, I've had lots of emotions: some days have been sad, some fun, some really exciting, some incredibly lonely, and some just plain boring. But the one emotion which has been noticeably absent from my repertoire on this trip is....anger. Yep. I haven't been angry, infuriated, frustrated, or peeved even once on this trip. (Now, I've been slightly annoyed, like when I was stuck in a 90 minute traffic jam after I crossed into British Columbia, but even then, I just turned the car off and listened to some music.) And that is saying something. In my real life, I'm ticked off almost every day. So the absence of anger is remarkable.

So why is that? Is it just because I have some time right now, and am not always running in 14 different directions? Is it because I'm not working? Is it because I'm simply doing things I enjoy doing? Is it because I've spent so much time with people who are important to me? Or is it some combination? Regardless of the reason, I just feel so much better than I have in a long, long time.

And -- I suppose have plenty of time to contemplate the reasons, since I'll be driving over 2200 miles in the next 6-7 days.

Portland to Seattle, and Back Again

OMG, what a week it's been. Today is the 4th of July, and I haven't written in over a week. But it's been one of the most special weeks since I left Atlanta, because the entire time has been spent in the company of friends, and that has been amazing.

I arrived in Portland last Thursday, after I left the wine country. I stayed with Dana and Jerry, the parents of a good friend of mine (Jordan) from college at the University of Texas. They used to live in Houston, but relocated a while ago, and they love Portland. Which meant that they made for outstanding tour guides.

Actually, when I arrived Thursday afternoon, I left them to do some work around the house while I took myself to see a movie. Funny that I was craving such an activity, but after so much sightseeing, it was nice to do something "boring" like sitting in a movie theater. I saw the Karate Kid -- maybe it shows my age, but I preferred the original with Ralph Macchio and Pat Morita (although I really enjoyed Jackie Chan).

Anyway, after I returned to the house Thursday night, Dana took me out on the town a little bit (Jerry was playing poker with his buddies). We went to ride the tram at OHSU, which provided for a bird's-eye view of the Willamette River overlooking Portland. The weather was fantastic, and the view was spectacular. Portland has so many bridges spanning the river; between the bridges, the river itself, and the abundance of trees, it was absolutely gorgeous. And we were able to see Mt. Hood, Mt. Baker, and Mt. Adams from the top. We stayed up there for a little while, and then returned to our car. Dana took me to an old school converted into a pub/theater/restaurant/hotel, called the Kennedy. It was a very cool place. When we arrived, we heard lots of singing, but no instruments. We went in search of the voices, and found them: they belonged to a community singing group which performs several times a week. The sign describing the group states that they sing from a songbook from the late 1800s, and that "no experience is necessary". The group was large, 30+ people, all sitting in a circle, with a leader in the center. They were singing in 4-part harmony, and it was really cool to listen to them. I've never fancied myself much of a singer, but if I ever live in Portland, it would be really fun to sing with them, for sure.

The next morning, Dana and Jerry took me to see the Columbia River Gorge. It is absolutely incredible to see. Apparently, an ice dam broke thousands of years ago, which unleashed this enormous flood of water westward, out toward the Pacific Ocean. The speed of the water, along with the onslaught of the material washed away with it, carved out the entire gorge. And it is BIG. We drove eastward on the Washington side first and stopped at the Bonneville Dam. The entire Columbia River is apparently dammed for electricity purposes, but in order to let the salmon through to spawn, the Bonneville Dam has built "fish ladders" which simulate the natural entrance into the various fingers of a river. You can go underneath the water, inside a building at the dam, and watch the fish swim through the ladders; in fact, there's a person inside whose job it is, is to count salmon of every variety, to see how well the salmon are doing. We then went outside, and looked from above the ladders; you could see the salmon swimming up against the current of water in the ladders. How hard they work! They literally jump up the ladder as the current washes down over them. What I read is that the current moves at 5-7 mph downstream; the fish swim at 7-24 mph upstream. But there are holding areas, too, where tired fish can go to rest if they need to. And there were plenty of fish in the holding areas, just hanging out, resting and recuperating from what seems to be an absolutely exhausting swim.

After we left the dam, we continued eastward for a while, then we crossed the gorge back into Oregon and went southward to see Mount Hood. The mountain was beautiful, and so large against the greenery of the trees and the blue of the sky. And there's still snow on Mt. Hood, as well! We went to the historic Timberline Lodge at the mountain, and we had lunch there, and then toured the lodge, which is beautiful and rustic, with original furnishings, carvings, and architectural details. I went out into the snow and took a few photos as well, but afterwards, I fell coming down off the snowy hill, and rode the hill down on my bottom in the snow. Oh well, it only LOOKED like I wet my pants....

Anyway, we eventually got back in the car and drove northward again, then back at the gorge, we drove westward toward Portland. This time, we stayed on the Oregon side of the gorge. We saw the kite surfers on the Hood River (there were tons of them!), I gawked at the spectacular scenery of the gorge and river, and we stopped at multiple waterfalls: Horsetail, Bridalveil, Multnomah (the most famous, and enormous), Sheppard's Dell, Latourelle. Eventually, we came to an amazing lookout point with a small observatory on top. It was amazing standing there, just watching the view: the river, the rock formations, the trees, and again, that clear blue sky. Spectacular.

That night, Dana and Jerry took me to their eldest daughter's home for Shabbat supper. I had a wonderful time meeting her entire family, and we had a really nice evening of tickle fights (with her two children), good conversation (with the four adults), and a little mah jongg after the kids went to bed. And again, it was so nice to eat a home-cooked meal, after all of the hotel and restaurant meals I've eaten in the past two months.

Saturday morning, we got up and went to the local farmer's market. It was fantastic -- tons and tons of interesting produce, plants and flowers, and baked/prepared goods. I forget sometimes how much I love going to markets like that! After the market, we dropped the food off at their home, and then we went to Pearl Street to the amazing Powell's Bookstore, then stopped in at Voodoo Doughnuts (didn't wait in the hour-long line for one though, boo hoo), and then went to Mississippi Street to eat lunch at a Portland tradition, a pod of food carts. Apparently, Portland has pods like the one on Mississippi Street all over the city! We had our choice of Mexican, sushi, Korean, pizza, eggs, Indian fusion, and several others -- and there were lots and lots of vegetarian and vegan options (although I am neither).

After we ate our fill, we returned to their house, and I packed up and left Portland. I went back across the Columbia River the same way I'd traveled the day before, and went to Camas, Washington, which is only a 3o minute drive from Portland. There, I met up with one of my closest friends from high school, Jay Murray. He's married now (his wife's name is Kris), and he has two children (Aiden and Cassidy) and two chihuahuas (Pippin and Tula), so the house is filled with busy-ness and laughter.

It was a fun couple of days, just hanging out at their house and in their neighborhood, and playing with Aiden and Cassidy, and the other children on the block. And it was fun to see Jay all grown up. Sunday night was amazing, though. Jay is a pilot for Southwest Airlines, and his brother Josh, a consultant by day, turns into a private pilot/flight instructor at night. So Josh took Jay and I out for a flight in his plane. It was totally cool. We flew back over the gorge, then looped around and flew over Mt. St. Helens! It was an outstanding way to see the gorge in a completely different light than I'd seen it by driving (the waterfalls are totally nonimpressive from the air, by the way), and St. Helens was really cool. She's got a crater in the center, obviously, from the eruption, but is having a "bulge" in the crater where lava is pushing up against the crater's bottom. The bulge is growing, and we got a great picture of it! But the best part was just being up in the sky. I forget how much I really love it, until I get up there -- and then I'm completely exhilarated. Too cool.

The next morning, I left Camas to drive to Seattle, and to see my friend Martha from medical school. The last time I saw Martha, I was living in New York City, and she had an infant. Now she has two kids (Mimi and Ian), and they are 10 and 8 years old! It was wonderful to see her and reconnect with her....Martha and I were always able to have really good conversations, and this visit was absolutely no exception. Martha has started her own business as a healthcare advocate, and I've occasionally thought about that career, as well, so we had lots to discuss about, well, everything really.

She also is temporarily displaced from her house (it's being renovated), and she and her husband have rented this amazing apartment on Lake Washington, overlooking Bellevue and Mt. Rainier. We had an outstanding view of the water. Amazingly, though, the mountain was completely invisible! I saw photographs of what the view looks like when the weather is clear, and the mountain is SO large and SO dominant, that it seems unbelievable that it was completely hidden -- but it was. For the entire 4 days I was there. The most I saw of it was the very tip, on Wednesday night; and seeing the top was even more shocking, because then I could tell how large the mountain really was, even though I couldn't see the rest of it.

On Tuesday afternoon, some friends of Martha's invited us to go out on their boat, and they picked us up at the dock at the apartment complex! Which made me feel totally luxurious. We had a really nice (but windy) ride, and saw the gorgeous homes right on the water....rode right past Bill Gates's home itself. The homes are on the water, but the street is above the homes, on top of a hill -- I was surprised to see that most of the homes had escalators which extended from the home to the street!

That evening, Martha took me to dinner at the Dahlia Lounge, one of the really famous Seattle restaurants, and it was great. We were able to dress up a little bit, and the food and conversation were terrific.

The next day (Wednesday), I met one of Nimmi's friends, Jeff Maggioli, out for lunch to catch up with him while Martha took her kids to see Toy Story 3. Afterwards, Martha and I went to buy some groceries, and I COOKED DINNER for the first time since this trip began. I made a lemon pasta which I really like and just a simple salad, bread, and fruit, but it was glorious being in a kitchen after all this time! And that night, I got to spend time with both Martha and her husband Scott, which was really nice, as well.

On Thursday, I played with Ian while Martha had an appointment....turns out, I'm really good at Wii Tiger Woods Golf. I'm sure that means I'm good at real golf too, right? When Martha returned, she and the kids and I went for lunch, then came back to the apartment and continued chatting (I feel like we talked for hours on end!), and then I finally left for Mt. Rainier National Park at 4pm.

I arrived at the Paradise Lodge just before 8pm. But it was an incredible drive, because again, the mountain was invisible! Here I was, driving on the mountain itself, and I totally couldn't see it. In fact, as I got closer to the lodge, I could see why....it was really cloudy and foggy, given my elevation (6000 ft), and the visibility was only 20 feet or so. In fact, I really couldn't even see the lodge. But I finally saw the sign for it, then followed the road, then saw cars in the parking lot, and then followed those to the entrance. It was freaky, being unable to see the lodge until I was right upon it. But I made it, safe and sound.

The next morning, I decided to go for a hike, although I was totally uncertain about how a hike in that continuing fog would go. First I went to the visitors' center, and saw a movie about Mt. Rainier. I found out the secret of the weather; the mountain is so tall that it literally stops clouds which are moving eastward from the Pacific Ocean and Puget Sound. The clouds hang out at the mountain, because they cannot continue onward. So the mountain is often cloaked in clouds. And the mountain also "makes its own weather", as a result. After the movie, I asked the tour guide where to go, and she recommended that I leave Paradise and go down the mountain, to Ohanapecosh on the southeast side of the park, and do some hiking over there, which I did. But first, I asked her where the mountain actually was, since I couldn't see it! Too funny, to be at a mountain park, and never actually see the mountain.

I drove eastward to Ohanapecosh, and did a really nice hike, from the Ohanapecosh campground around the Silver Falls Loop, then to the Grove of the Patriarchs, and back to the campground. The falls were excellent and super-powerful. The grove was much cooler than I thought it would be; after all, I'd been a little bit bored at Sequoias, if truth be told. But this grove is made of completely different trees (Douglas Fir, Red Alder, Western Hemlock), and has so many other plants, that I was completely mesmerized by it all.

I left the park around 4pm and then drove back down to Camas. Jay and Kris had invited me to spend the 4th of July with them, and although I initially declined since it would slow down my trip to Alaska, I decided that I'd rather spend Independence Day in the USA than in Canada, so I took them up on their offer. I took the scenic route down from Rainier, and so I drove right past Mt. St. Helens. Again, the weather was cloudy, and so I only got a picture of the base of it -- but that just made it cooler that I had seen it from the air a few days before.

So here I am, back in the Portland area, on the 4th of July, with a wonderful friend and his family. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had so many experiences over the past week:

• Visiting with three wonderful groups of friends (Dana and Jerry, Jay and Kris, and Martha and Scott) and their families
• Driving around the Columbia River Gorge, and visiting Mt. Hood
• Flying over the gorge, and seeing it from the air, along with Mt. St. Helens
• Flying in an airplane, period!
• Taking a spontaneous boat ride
• Learning that Mt. Rainier is a crazy, magical mountain
• Taking a really lovely hike through the woods

It's funny, in a way. I haven't written in so long, and I initially felt guilty about that, but I feel like there's some synergy in these places I've visited and the people I've seen over the past week. I could have written about each of them separately, but it makes sense this way: visits to Portland and Camas, and seeing the gorge from the ground and the air; flying in Portland area and boating in Seattle; and traveling from Seattle back down to Portland area and seeing Rainier and St. Helens in both places. Synergy.

Happy 4th. Enjoy the holiday,

Emily