South to Seward

So shortly after starting work, I learned that the computer system for the whole facility would be changing the first week of May.  For me that meant, in addition to getting used to a new country, new city, new home, new employer, new job description, I would also have to add in learning about the new-to-me-on-the-way-out computer system and give input into the still-in-design-brand-spanking new computer system.  The computer expert for my department was located in Utah, and fortunately  our brains work in a relatively similar fashion.  There must have been a thousand fragmented spastic emails back and forth as thoughts were had, ammendums made, tests trialed, tweaked, scrapped, and accepted.  Plus there were dozens of hours on the phone and webinars, conference calls, and sometimes even calls within conference calls.  We worked really well together, and in the end made an amazing amount of progress in a short period of time.  And so the person I have spent the most time with since I moved to Alaska is a former Micro tech turned LIS guru who lives in Utah.  When the day came for "go live," the term for flicking the old computer system off and the new one on, we were very lucky that the corporation decided to send her to Alaska for 2 weeks as part of the transition team.  It may not have been lucky for her, as she got the dubious privilege of sharing my office (which turns into a flurry of haphazardly posted sticky notes, papers, reports, and reference materials...truth -- I require both quiet and the space of 4 normal people to contain and make functional the chaos in which I find my most productive moments of genius.)  There was only 1 (and a half) days off in those 2 weeks of otherwise 12-14 hour days, but we actually both got the same day off when it did happen.  By this point the Utah friend would be the first new friend I would be going on an adventure with since I moved here (technically Sharon, Dave, and Stan are previously acquired friends -- at least ten years awesome friends actually --  but the title of First New Alaska Friend to go on an adventure goes to a resident of Utah).

 

So I was long overdue for a drive through beautiful Turnagain Arm.  As my first opportunity to play tour guide, I was able to share the little I know so far...tales of the mud flats of Cook Inlet, where to stop to see the roofs of the houses in Hope, Beluga Point, where someone installed a pipe in the rockface that spews a constain stream of free, rock filtered glacial spring water.  I was amazed again at how different it looked in the month since I had driven here last.  The green makes a big difference!

 

Past Turnagain Arm, it was all unchartered territory as I headed down the road to Seward.  Seward is named after the U.S. Secretary of State William Seward who arranged the purchase of Alaska from Russia in 1867 for $7 Million.  I wasn't familiar with this part of American history until just a few short months ago, and not being American, there was a bit of a lapse in the connection of what else was going on in the 1860's in the U.S.  William Seward was actually the leading contender for the presidential nomination of the Republican Party in 1860.  He was beat out by one Abraham Lincoln though.  His home was a stop on "The Underground Railroad," and on the night of President Lincoln's assassination in 1865, a simultaneous assassination attempt happened on Seward, who was stabbed 5 times in the neck and face.  He survived, outliving Lincoln and the conspirators who were subsequently executed.  He needed a few more years on this earth to acquire my new Alaska home.  He visited Alaska, and managed a few more years of travel before dying in 1872.  I am grateful his accomplishments brought this amazing place into the territory of North America.

And so me and a computer tech from Utah found our way to the Oceanside town that bears the name of that interesting U.S. historical figure.  The plan was to hop aboard on of the glacier cruises that leave from there.  There are several, but on the recommendation of my awesome Alaska boss, we tried the Kenai Fjords Tours. 

 

 

Our cruise was set to be 6.5 hours, and we shuffled down the deck and hopped on board...The Orca Voyager.

 



 

At this time of year, they tell me the humpback whales migrate through.  I know the Humpback Whales also cruise through Bermuda every March as well, but my attempts at whale watching there were thrwarted twice by bad weather, and the one year I did make it I spent a lot of money to freeze on a boat on a drizzly grim day and didn't see so much as a flipper.  That said, my expectations were pretty low.  I planned on getting some good scenic shots from the deck of the boat, since I haven't seen Alaska from the water before.

 



We were barely out of sight of the town of Seward when the boat slowed.  The captain announced he thought he had seen a blow -- the spray of water resulting from a Humpback Whale when they surface for a breath.  "Great...I finally am out on a day when someone see one and I missed it," I thought.

The boat bobbed on the water and we all stared out at the water, not exactly sure what to look for, or where.  Suddenly, there was the spout of water again!  It looks like a bit of smoke in the picture...but that's all I have to document a far away whale breath.  The object to the left is part of the very large Humpback Whale below the surface. 

Unfortunately, this is about as much as I saw of the Humpback Whales.  Apparently those pictures where they leap out of the water and pose for the camera are rare.  What I did see was several of the curvy humps moving through the water, and it kinda reminded me of the legends of the Loch Ness Monster.  What I saw of the whale sounds like what others saw of Nessie.

Contented with my whale sighting, I contented myself with a few more scenic photos.  We saw some porpoises splashing in the distance, some puffins just out of the range of the lens I had, and a very handsome rugged looking man with a camera very similar to mine, making the scenery in the boat pretty decent as well.

We headed towards the glacier, which allowed time for a boxed lunch on board the boat.  We met a really neat group from the lower 48 who had been touring Alaska for 2 weeks and had a lot of great adventures so far.  I need to get as well travelled in Alaska as the average tourist.  I have much work to do!

Home on the Range

 Oh give me a home... where the buffalo roam... where the deer and the antelope play.  That classic tune is followed by another adage --Ask and you shall receive.  So I find myself right amid the age old desires of mankind expressed in that song.  Alaska is my new range and I am happy to see all the critters that also call it home.  AND... just when you think it can't get better... it's baby animal season!!

 

 

Technically this mom and baby are not Buffalo, but Wood Bison.  I don't really know how to tell them apart, but I do know woolly adorableness when I see it.  Here's a separate mom and baby in the herd.

 

 

Look at that little face!!!

 

 

For other animals, it's time to nourish something other than babies... like antlers.... which they need to battle for the right to make babies.  This moose was just losing its antlers last month.  The new ones are growing quickly!!!

 



There are also some pretty views for both me and the critters.  Seldom is heard a discouraging word about these vistas.  Even when the skies are slightly cloudy and grey.

 

 

 

 

The Bear Necessities

I still have a lot to sort out before I can really say that I am all set up, that I know my new city, that I am "Alaskan."  There is a lot to do, both at home and at work, and I have a long way to go.  I guess the most important thing to do is to sort out the bare necessities of life.  Who better to ask than the masters of life in Alaska...the bears!  So by watching them, I hope to figure out the bear necessities of my new life in Alaska...but maybe they are the bear necessities of life in general.

 

Bear necessity number one.  Don't let life get you down.  Sometimes you can feel a little glum, and a little tired when trying to squeeze a whole year into a few short months of long summer days.  Take a little mid-day bear nap.  The world is less overwhelming when you have you bear-beauty rest.

 



Number Two on the List.  Life in this remote and rugged old gold town can feel a little rough some days.  Don't forget to take some time out and spoil yourself, that's also a bear necessity.  This picture reminded me that I too need to take some time out and book a pedicure and a massage.  I wonder if I can bring this little guy along too.

Bear Necessity number three.  You can't take it all too seriously.  Sure, you have to put your effort into doing your best every day, and there are plenty of things to get stressed out about.  But don't be afraid to let that little grin out even when you are literally between a rock and a hard place. 

Bear Necessity number four.  "Smile, and the world smiles with you."  And that's all me and Forest Bear really have to say about that.

Bear Necessity number five.  Don't be afraid to stop and smell the roses.  Even if they're just imaginary roses.

Exercise is Bear Necessity number six.  Explore alternative sports, like rock climbing...or skydiving...I think bears would like that.

Fake it until you make it.  Bear necessity number seven...exude confidence.  Not only does it make you look very attractive to the other bears...er humans...but we all need someone to believe in us...even if it's only ourselves at first.

Bear necessity number eight.  When you want something, leave no stone unturned.  You never know what you will find!

 
And don't bury your head in the sand.  Even ostriches look silly doing that.

Bear Necessity number nine.  Everything is better with a friend...burdens are less heavy, joy is even lighter.  Take time to share with that special somebeary.

These two are like two peas in a pod.  Two very very large furry brown peas with claws and teeth.

Bear Necessity number ten.  Take a little time out now and then to watch nature in all its splendor.  Look at this bear watching the cute elk and humans behind the fence.  I am sure it did a little good for his soul to watch those dangerous bipedal beasts in the background, a chance to observe a fearsome species while kept safe from them by a fence.  He probably knows they are not safe to come across in the wild.

Bathtime for Bears

Sometimes it's hard for a bear to get a little privacy.  On my last visit to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, I was happy to see my favorite furry celebrities enjoying the Alaska sunshine.  I was hoping they would be out where I could see them, and they did not disappoint.  However, it appears my timing was off.

 

I had arrived for bear bathtime.  This bear waded into the water and seemed to sit its bear butt down and enjoy a good soak.  He looked a little lonely at first.

But after a moment I realized this bear was quite happy for the alone time in a nice cool pond.  He sat and soaked for a while...

Then took a little dive and snorkel a bit further down, which got somewater in his ears and led to a smiley shake-it-all out moment.



But not a moment later, it was back to diving, bubble blowing, and swimming about.  I felt like I had caught a very special moment with my soaking wet bear friend.

Eventually the effort paid off (for the bear), and he dove down to the bottom of the pond and pulled up a very large bone which he proceeded to nibble on while floating on his back.  Bears are very interesting to watch...playful, strong, animated.  I am going to have a lot of fun visiting this place over and over while I am here!

Homeward Bound

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.  Wise words.  As an expat, it's hard to tell where home is when someone asks.  Home is where you grew up.  Home is where your family is.  Home is that city where you have roots because your forever people are there.  Home is where the property you own is.  Home is where you are.  Then as my friend Steve said, you can have several spiritual homes.  So when someone asks where home is, I often don't know if I should say Saskatchewan, Edmonton, Bermuda, or Alaska.  They are all home, for all of those reasons.  Today I am talking about this home...the place I lay my head when exhausted.  My sanctuary.  The place my cats live.  That home is in Alaska.  And as homes go, Alaska is anything but humble. 

 

 

There is something about this spot in the Eagle River Nature Center that always draws my eye.  The blue grey hue of the mountains which look just a little unreal under clear skies, and stark and ancient under grey skies.

 

The thick yellow matted grass that lies atop what I know to be marshes all around the area.  These narrow shallow streams that I was shocked to learn are the salmon breeding grounds I had heard so much about...they seem too small, too slow, and too remote to be the starting and ending place of the legendary salmon (interesting fact -- salmon travel from these freshwater streams to the ocean and adapt to salt water.  They live in the open ocean for about 2 years before swimming back to the freshwater streams...their bodies readapt to freshwater, and by following scent and chemical signals in the water, they return to the exact, specific stream they were each born in...presuming nothing eats them along the way of course).

The little marsh below may look cold and a little static in this photo.  But somewhere just out of sight in that range there is at least a moose, maybe a bear calling this their humble home for the day.

Nothing seems "soft."  I confess I watched a little "Project Runway," in the past, and never really got what Heidi Klum was always going on about with fabrics being "hard" or "soft" in the esoteric sense.  Well, I am starting to get it now.  When I look at these pictures, they are all pretty to me...but they are all "hard".  The trees have a little less foliage, more needles than leaves.  There is more definition on the wood.  As peaceful as each scene is...each is more "hard" than "soft."

 

 

This one may be a little hard and a little soft at the same time.  Probably sounds better when Heidi Klum says it.

 





In this last one, I just loved the reflection of the log, and the deep shades of blue in the scene.  I loved Bermuda and all it's warm azure blues.  Alaska is navy blue, occasionally icy blue.  It reminds me of a color my Grandma loved most in her paint sets...cobalt blue.  She would have liked my Alaska blues.

 

 

Bear Meadow and The Little Voice

 So on that last, wonderful and so far rare day off from work, I was taking a walk out at the

Eagle River Nature Center.  I found the little cabin, and began walking back from the cabin to the main trail.  Alaska is mossier than I thought when you get into the woods.  Don't get me wrong

I like it, but I guess I didn't expect the carpet of green on the rocks and trail in the spring.

 

Back on the beaten path, there was a pretty wide swath of trail blazed out, and a pretty regular stream of people going through.  Because I am ever so cautious and smart-like-that, I decided to take the road less travelled and cut over to what is called the Dew Mound trail where there would be less people. 

Now this was more like it.  A little more like what you expect in the wilderness.  Alaska seems to have a lot more yellow-green than forest green right now...am guessing there is more greening up to come, but the color palette was interesting all the same.

After a few hundred yards, the sound of children, barking dogs, and people faded away.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  THIS was what the woods were supposed to sound like.  The trill of birds.  The snapping of a branch.  Followed by the deafening chatter of the little voice inside my head.  "You really are far away from everyone now."  That's right little voice, and this is just how we like it.  "You remember last time we came you promised to buy bear spray...but we don't have bear spray."  Relax little voice, we will pick some up next time, it will be fine.  A moment of peace.  "We've been walking for an awfully long time, and this trail doesn't seem well used.  You know if there was a bear it would be hard to see here."  Shhhhh...little voice....this is not the time....we are probably half way between the old trail and the new.  "You did notice on the map that this trail makes up the north boundary of the area called Bear Meadow right?"  Shut up little voice, you are not helping things.  "Did you hear that?"  Freeze frame and a nervously analytical moment.  Just the swooshing of the camera bag against the jacket in this very very quiet wood I told the little voice.

I will say I was a little relieved to hit Dew Mound Trail.  No bears were sighted, and hopefully no bears sighted ME.  Next time we will have the bear spray.  On Dew Mound Trail, I turned back to the nature center hoping for the wide open clearing.  I was met with a well defined trail...with thick brush growth right up to the edges of the trail, making any depth of vision virtually impossible.  It also didn't leave a lot of space should one meet up with an unexpected critter on the trail.  By this point I was missing the sound of those voices, and I wasn't sure if it would feel less eerie to turn back and go back through the silent untraveled woods, or plug along the moderately travelled thickly encroaching wood ahead. 

Forward felt less creepy, so on I went.

 

And on and on and on.  Finally after some distance, I heard some bells jingling!  Bear bells!  Fellow hikers were coming my way.  A big dog came charging down the path and jumped up on me, slobbered a bit, and instilled a bit of general chaos to the scene.  "Nice to see some other people," I said to the oncoming dog-led group.  "You're pretty brave walking alone," they said.  "Pretty stupid" the little voice said.  Touche little voice, I said, as I turned and took a snapshot of the view behind me and I headed back to the nature center, the car, people and civilization.  Next time we'll have bear spray on board I told the little voice...and stop being such a chicken.

 



On Becoming a Morning Person

I have spent my whole life hating mornings.  We all have our individual body clocks that march to a circadian rhythm of their own beat.  My clock has always like the quiet of night.  I remember crawling out of my crib as a toddler in the dead of night and roaming the house, even occasionally sneaking outside on the farm while all the big people were asleep.   6am is the time when I am in my deepest sleep, snug and warm with dreams racing through my head.  I hate hate hate that weekday morning alarm clock that robs me of the kind of wake up I have always liked...lazy, warm with the sun streaming into the room.  8 am workdays have always been a struggle, a necessary evil in this life.

Turns out up here in Alaska, the land of the midnight sun, that people have a rhythm of their own as well.  On my first day at work I came through the door at 7:45 and felt a little wave of panic.  Everyone was already there hard at work.  I checked to make sure I had the time zone right, but yup, I was indeed 15 mins earlier than I planned, but clearly the last to arrive.  When I asked my colleagues in my area what time they usually started their shift, I had to stifle a grimace when I heard "I clock in at 5:45."  "6 for me."  In the spring and summer here, you can have 8 hours of work and 8 hours of sunlight to play in.  It appeared I was going to have to face the alarm clock even earlier.  And so that night I set for alarm for 5am with dread.

When the alarm went off at 5, I got up, turned on the coffee, got dressed and headed to work.  I think I made it the whole way there before my body and brain realized we weren't just getting up for a middle of the night glass of water.  The day went pretty smoothly, but I headed for bed by 10, a lot earlier than I have gone to bed in years.

Next day, same thing.  That need for snooze alarms and feeling of absolute lethargy were missing.  It seems that getting up before I hit that "dead to the world 6 am phase" is not nearly as bad as waking up after it hits.  I have held on to some of my routines...I still like to hit the snooze button at least three times, despite years of clear evidence showing that no real rest is gained in these furtive, pitiful  5 minute intervals.  The cats have a routine too.  At the exact moment of the third alarm when I make a move to get up, the normally antisocial cat runs to the light of the phone and snuggles in for an ill timed attempt to cuddle.  One day it will be the demise of me and I will wake up at 10am, several hours late for work, and have to explain that the cat made me do it.  But so far I have made it.  I think I have even gotten used to it.  The other day I stayed pretty late at work, so decided to sleep in til 6.  I was rewarded by seeing moose on the roadside on the drive to Anchorage.  I was pretty excited to spot my first moose in months...but then I got to thinking that maybe I was just up earlier than the moose on all the other days, which is somewhat unsettling, because I started to wonder if the moose was getting more sleep than me.  Moose envy?  Maybe a little.  But in the end, early mornings are better than plain mornings, but with 18 hours of daylight, who can even tell?