Alaska 2008

1 September 2008
Ketchikan, Alaska

It was our first day in Alaska, but it took awhile to get ready to venture into the outside world. I had to put on socks and long underwear and pants and more long underwear and long sleeved tops and short sleeved tops and a scarf and a jacket and a rain coat and tie-up shoes. It was not at all like my usual throwing on a swimsuit, t-shirt, skirt and flip-flops! But I was determined to not be cold so I even lugged around another big coat, just in case. At last, we began our walk through the small town of Ketchikan. Here are some pictures:





We finally came to a river where the salmon were attempting to swim upstream. Can you see the salmon? (It's the little smudge in the upper left part of the picture.)





















We wondered around aimlessly for most of the morning when suddenly, and I still can't believe our luck, but we stumbled upon a baby black bear who was eating a salmon he had found in the river. We knew mama bear had to be close by so we only took a few quick photos. Justin had his zoom lens so you will have to bug him for the close-up shot.

Unfortunately, it soon began to rain rather hard. Captain Zor had said Ketchikan was the forth rainiest city in the world and it would be a miracle if it didn't rain today. We rushed into the nearest restaurant and being that I just witnessed a baby bear eating a salmon, I decided I too would try the salmon. It was really really delicious, but I don't think I would eat it again unless I was in Ketchikan.



2 September
Juneo, Capital of Alaska

I have been on this planet for 37 years and have never before seen a glacier, but today, I saw three glaciers! Three! But first we went on a hike. Here's a random sign:

And here are some random rain forest colors:

We finally arrived at Mendenhall National Park and found a glacier. Here it is:


Like I said, this was just the first of three that day because when we returned to the boat, we were going glacier sightseeing again. Now, when we got on the boat in Seattle and heard Captain Zor speak for the very first time, I thought, "Great! He's already drunk and we haven't even left our first port city!" He sounded like Sean Connery and he rambled on and on and on. But I'm used to him now and know that that's just the way he is. Besides, I don't think he could stay constantly drunk and still pilot this ship. Now he's on the ship's speaker system rambling on about going to such and such a place, but we might actually go to this other place but not to worry because they both have whales and glaciers.

It was freezing outside, but we were both so excited to be on a boat traveling through this narrow passageway that we didn't mind so much. (OK, OK, so I did make periodic journeys inside to drink hot coffee and warm up.) Mainly we stayed at the stern of the boat because there weren't many people there. We stayed on the windward side for as long as we could stand it and then raced around the corner to the leeward side to get a bit of relief from the freezing winds. It was breath taking! The tall juniper trees which lined the edges of the land were interrupted by waterfalls or occasionally, a black treeless cliff. As the land began to squeeze in closer, we saw our second glacier, different from the first because it did not extend into the water.














As the land continued to creep closer and closer to the boat we began to see huge chunks of ice floating in the water.

The chunks of ice got bigger.










The Captain's voice again: we would be squeezing through this crack between the two mountains. Perhaps the Captain is drunk!







He knew what he was doing though because a few minutes later, we were looking at the most beautiful glacier in the world:














The Captain's voice again droned through the boat. This was as close as we could get to the glacier. Something about safety... Blah, blah, blah. So, he managed to turn us around and we headed back in the direction in which we came. At about this same time, the sun came out!


We rushed to pull our cameras back out of their bags. I had time to take two incredible overexposed pictures when... I ran out of space on my memory card! It was the first time we had seen the sun in days. How could this happen? Happily, Justin ripped out his spare memory card like a sidewalk magician. Here's what followed:


















3 September
Skagway, Alaska

Today we flew in a helicopter over the Denver Glacier (just another ol' day on vacation). I even got to sit up front between the pilot and Justin. Now, I must admit, the pilot did not at first generate confidence in me. I mean, he was just barely not a boy and youth doesn't exactly foster confidence when you are about to put your life into some one's hands! As soon as we took off, however, all my fears whirled away. I don't know where he learned to fly, but flying tourists over the fiord's of Alaska was easy by comparison. Not only was he flying this machine, but he managed to give a sightseeing tale along the way. Here's what I learned from him:

Icebergs are blue. A rich beautiful blue. It is not like the color of the sea at Long Bay Beef Island, but it is still a rather nice blue. Icebergs are blue because the water is under great pressure (making it more dense) when it freezes. Thus, just like when diving deep into the ocean, the blue color ray is the only color strong enough/long enough to penetrate and is the only color you can see.


Too soon, we landed on a tiny cement square next to some railroad tracks next to a temperate rain forest. Our wonderful pilot reminded us once again that when we stepped out of the helicopter to walk straight across the railroad tracks because when the tail rotor is in motion, it is invisible and could chop you into a thousand tiny blood dripping pieces. (OK, so he didn't actually say a thousand tiny blood dripping pieces, but it's easy to imagine.)














Fortunately, everyone made it safely across the railroad tracks and with an amazing roar of wind, our tiny red helicopter left us all alone in the silence of the rain forest. Yep, without the usually constant sound of rain dripping down the forest trees, it is remarkable quite in the rain forest and we were all dancing the happy dance today because there was no rain!!!

So we were all just standing around getting stuff ready for the hike up to the glacier. Joseph, the shaggy haired, bearded tour guide said not to worry about being cold as we'll warm up on the trail. He looked at me and said, "The scarf will go."

I gave him the same blank, you don't know what in the world you're talking about stare that other cruise ship passengers have given me when I tell them moon jellyfish cannot harm them. Thirty minutes later, the scarf, gloves, and hat were all gone and I was still a bit warm.

Anyway, let's just start with the mushrooms...
There were mushrooms everywhere in Alaska! Purple ones and orange and yellow and red ones. They glistened and dripped with the rain forest moisture. I wanted to take a picture of every last one of those beauties, but we were suppose to stay together in a group because we were in bear and moose territory. Even though we didn't actually see any sharp-toothed bears or big antlered moose, I knew they were there: peeking from the shadows, just waiting for one lone last mushroom picture taking tourist.


So I was scurrying to catch up with the group when I bumped into Justin who had also strayed behind. He stared at a patch of grass, took a quick couple of steps and stared at another patch of grass. Upon seeing me, he said with great exuberance, "I've found a moose trail!" So I too stared at the ground until I saw a cloven shaped indention in the grass and then another! And then we realized the group was no where to be seen.



Can you imagine a land where everyday smelled like Christmas? Underneath those towering, sweet-smelling junipers, lush green plant life invaded every space.







Strands of witch's hair lichen dripped from the tree branches.

Moss blanketed fallen trees.

Scrumptious wild blueberries waited to be eaten.















Tiny orchids pushed their way through the primordial mulch of the forest floor. There was so much oxygen in the air, my brain buzzed high among the juniper branches.










And then we reached the top of the trail. We reached the glacier! Frankly, the cold hard glacier seemed out of place amongst so much life. In fact, I didn't even take a picture of it. I took a picture of this crusty gray, red-tipped lichen instead:


I think they should sell the tour as the great lichen hike rather than the great glacier hike. Actually the tour was not over yet. We had barely enough time to hike back to the railroad tracks- no time to stop and talk about lichen or even take any pictures. We had a train to catch!

The train was terrific because one, there was a wood burning stove in the back. Two, they gave us beer. And three, at one point, there was a jagged rock face on one side of the train and a straight vertical cliff plunging into the end of the world on the other side. To tell the truth though, i was in sensory overload. I mean, my brain was still trying to process the helicopter ride! My body was moving way too fast for me to keep up with it. I was thankful when Justin and I finally sat down over lunch and spruce tipped beer and were able to discuss the last five hours. We talked about the colorful leaves, the river, the smell of the trees. We talked about how close we flew to the edge of the glacier. We talked about the great weather, just to make sure it was real and to engrave it into our memory. Here's one last picture of the day:




4 September
Prince Rubert, Canada

Today we had the music of the rain accompany us on a walk at Butze Falls. We could hear the rain oozing down the long, thin juniper needles, splattering upon the leaves below and finally slurping into the swamp. It wasn't a hard rain; just a soft, non-stop, dream-like mist. Good, if you like walking in a dream. Bad if you want to take pictures. I did get a few.

Here's the local wildlife. It's the very ferocious white slug. They are incredible dangerous and honestly, we are lucky to have escaped with our lives.






And of course, no day would be complete without a mushroom shot.




6 September
Seattle, Washington

We spent our last day of vacation away from home in Seattle. Seattle is a beautiful city. It has a funny looking, very tall, very skinny building and tons of flowers to photograph.















But the best thing about Seattle was Pike's Place Market. Pike's Place Market is produce heaven. I live on a volcanic island; our produce are wilted, deprived, ancient things. I get excited when I find a tomato that isn't yellow or brown and squishy. At Pike's Place Market, not only did they have plump, heavy, bright red tomatoes, they had a variety of tomatoes: Pear tomatoes, globe tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, roma tomatoes. They even had tomatillos! Ah, I could make such delicious salsa here.

They had peaches almost as big as my head! They had vegetables I didn't even know existed. For example, Elephant Garlic. Now, this was my size garlic!


So this is where our Alaskan story ends. As we wondered between the market stalls and watched the fishmongers sling smelly fish through the air, my mind kept returning to one thought: I will soon be home with my happy little dog Cleo and my enormous soft kitty cat, Pedro. But before I leave, one last photograph:

(What? Did you think I was joking about the mushrooms?)