Sunburst Saturday

Poking out of clouds on the climb up

The clouds below

One last run before the sun sets

Today, while Anchorage and the surrounding areas were under a thick layer of clouds I headed up high to see if the visibility was any better above 3000' with a few friends - Rachel, Chris and Rob. After climbing about 1200' we found sun, warmth, and a windless day of backcountry skiing. It almost felt like skiing in Colorado when we were on the ridgetops. Although as soon as we dropped into the shadow of a ridge after a long, powdery descent we were reminded that it was in fact Alaska and the temps out of the sun weren't much higher than zero degrees. The opportunity to be back in the sun was a great motivator to climb back up and do it all again. The snow felt bottomless and we squeezed every last drop of sunshine from the day. (Thanks to Rob for the first and third photos)

Sea change

Sea change: noun
1
archaic : a change brought about by the sea
2
a marked change : transformation.

Sea change has been on my mind lately. The term comes from Shakespeare's The Tempest:

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.

I jumped into the ocean about a month ago, off a dock on an island that I was visiting with good friends. The water was full of bioluminescence and the moon shone down through patches of glowing clouds. The water made me feel alive.

Pumpkins carved with good friends

(note that the pumpkin is larger than my head)

Return to Afognak

Meg flies to Kodiak tomorrow to see old friends over the weekend. In fact, she'll be spending time at a lodge on Afognak Island's Seal Bay. The bay faces the Alaska Current and may offer good beachcombing opportunities. This is her second time to Afognak after a summer trip in '09. I am excited for her to get out and see more of the island. In the meantime, here are a few shots from last month's elk hunt. Hopefully Meg will have pics to share when she gets back.

The Columbia anchored in Paramanof Bay

Patrick and the Shelikof Strait

Ray glassing for a herd

There is a rotting elk head in my raised garden bed. As I write this, I realize that such a pronouncement might not raise any eyebrows here in our adopted State. Bruce carried the massive head, trailing tendons and furry flesh, out of the mountains of Afognak—a hard won trophy.

The head has assumed quite a presence in our lives. We take people out into the garden to see it, and they remark on it – its size and smell. Surprisingly dark antlers erupting from the bed’s weedy soil. Everyone is politely interested. They ask Bruce to uncover it, so they can see the skull, which is now brown and stained with earth. Bruce tells his stories and everyone pays their respects.

I worked in the garden this weekend, digging up giant roots and ripping out stubborn raspberries. I worry that each of these recent beautiful weekends will be the last of the fall. Turning over the soil I wonder how old it is, and who brought it to the garden. The head reeks. Its odor mixes with the smell of a crock pot roast from someplace nearby. I think about the head, and develop allegories for it, what it symbolizes in my life, our life.

A friend who visited with the head last weekend writes this morning, telling Bruce that he can buy brain-eating worms from a taxidermist.

Pack animal

Take lots of rest breaks

Aim for high tide at pickup

Hang meat to allow for air circulation

Last night we hosted half a dozen friends for dinner to enjoy some of last week's elk harvest. Master hunter Patrick, who was in town for a conference, even stopped by to help Meg with the roast and joined us for dinner. It was quite remarkable to see our quarry feeding so many people and it got me thinking about all the energy required to bring the delicious roast to the table. On Afognak after successfully downing the animal the real work soon began processing and packing out the pieces. For instance, it took three of us about three hours to process, pack up, and hang the remaining parts in a nearby tree (the animal was too heavy to carry out in one trip). With each of us carrying well over 100 lbs. our progress was slow and we decided to camp at the valley floor. We encountered a sow brown bear earlier on the hike and were a bit anxious about having to keep so much game in camp. Normally, an electric fence would be used to protect us from any opportunistic bruins. However, our fence was wrapped around the remaining meat near the kill site. After an uneventful night we set out to the bay to rendezvous with the fishing boat that served as our base camp. For five hours we bushwhacked our way to the bay, following game trails and an old logging road voraciously overgrown by alders. We arrived to find the water at high tide - perfect for an easy pickup via fishing skiff. Once on board we were happy to unload our packs and enjoy a cold beer. Yet we knew that a full day of hiking awaited us the next day as we had to return to the kill site to pack out the rest of the quarry.

Afognak elk hunt: success

Last week I was lucky enough to join a group of veteran hunters for a week-long hunting trip (watch) on Afognak Island. Located north of Kodiak, Afognak Island is remote and relatively wild - a logging camp is its lone settlement. Unlike other hunters, who fly in on a float plane and hunt near larger lakes on the island, we traveled to the island on a 50' commercial fishing boat. The boat allows us to explore several different areas during the trip. We pack enough gear to camp for three days and get dropped off on shore, striking out on land to scope hillsides and valleys for groups of roosevelt elk that live on the island. And when not hunting, we try our luck fishing for halibut and cod.

While hunting we found a group of about 25 elk on the morning of our second day. We approached the herd from a peak above as the animals grazed near a lake. I was able to get within 100 yards of the herd when a large bull singled himself out from the rest of the group. Luckily, my rifle shot true and we soon had a large animal to process and carry five miles back to the boat. More pictures and descriptions of the hunt coming soon.

Friendly visitors

Brother Duncan aboard the Mulligan - Haystack Beach off the stern

We had two new visitors come to town recently. My brother Duncan and Alicia, his brand new fiance (!) made the trip up from Colorado. While the sun was behind the clouds for most of their visit, they made the most of the adventure. After camping for a night in Denali together, they joined Meghan and I for a two night stay at a yurt in Kachemak Bay State Park. The yurt is across the Bay from Homer and we all hopped aboard a water taxi for a short cruise to the secluded beachside yurt. Seals, puffins, and thick-billed murres scattered in our wake as we sped through the thick fog to our weekend getaway. Once at the yurt we felt quite secluded. Although a curious black bear soon let us know that we were not alone. We cooked meals on the beach, played a few games and generally whooped it up together. We hope the young couple joins us again soon for another AK adventure.

Hiking with Alicia and Duncan

Another great photo op.

Ship shape

A few weeks ago our friends Mark and Laurence took us sailing in Resurrection Bay aboard the Radiance, a sloop that they plan to sail across the Pacific and back. After bunking up in port the night before, we set sail under stormy skies at midday. We cruised the bay, watching otters, porpoises and the occasional humpback surface from the green sea. A three hour sail put us in the shelter of Sunny Cove. We lowered the jib and mainsail just before a gail kicked up. From the Radiance's well-appointed galley we watched the heavy rain fall on rows of spruce trees onshore. Anchored in the cove, we enjoyed a tasty meal and were gently rocked into a pleasant sleep. The next day we climbed aboard the dingy and took to shore to comb the beach. Sunny skies made the trip back to port a fine end to a great outing. Thanks M&L!

Hoisting the jib

Going ashore in Sunny cove on Fox Island

The captain and his lovely first mate

Resettled

We've relocated to a new nest in Anchorage and couldn't be happier with the views. We'll have new posts up soon. Stay tuned...

Running with data (and Dave and Ben)

Map and profile of Saturday's run

Recently, I received a GPS watch as a gift for anniversary #1 from Meg. It's been quite fun wearing the watch, downloading the data, and looking at the topography of each run. Even a quick 5 miler around the neighborhood features short climbs that I'd never considered. I look forward to gathering more data about each outing to get an even better feel for the terrain in and around Anchorage. In the future, I hope to know as much about the routes near home as other outdoor enthusiasts living in Alaska. Perhaps inspired by this video, I've become more intrigued recently about getting out and "mapping" the surrounding terrain via trail runs. The data featured here is from a trip over Powerline Pass with Dave and Ben this weekend.

Hatcher Pass Marathon

Passing Summit Lake at mile 24

Support crew Ben & Laura fresh off the Yukon River

The scenery was reason enough to run the course

After several weeks of training it was finally time to run the first annual Hatcher Pass Marathon on Saturday. With a course profile resembling a very difficult treadmill program, I knew I was in for a doozy on my first full marathon. I was aiming for an 8 minute per mile pace and kept on target for more than half the race, arriving at mile 16 in 2:08. Then the course really started to climb. With the help of my support crew - Meghan, Ben, and Laura - who provided plenty of feed options (Ben even ran alongside for a few of the steepest miles) I was able to hold off a late challenge from a fellow racer just below the summit. When I crested the pass the sun was shining on the last mile - a steep descent to the finish where I crossed the line at 3:50:45. Although I ran slower than my goal, I learned a lot about long distance racing . Like labor, I have nearly forgotten the most painful parts of the race (e.g., when my left hip flexor refused to flex at miles 17-20) and look forward to another long trail race.

Happy Birthday Kevin!

I cannot believe that our handsome world traveler is twenty-one years old today. In my mind you will always be Baby Kevin...Happy birthday, Kevin. Wishing you a year filled with joy and adventure. We love you!

more from Cordova

strange bird

up close and personal with Child's Glacier

Miles Lake

enjoying one of Harry Need's glacier-tinis after setting up camp

Wisconsin Lumberjack

Bruce in his element during our visit home to the farm over Memorial Day.

Garden Metamorphosis

Then (May)...

...Now (jungle garden)...

Cordova Holiday

Vanagons lined up for the ferry

Cordova harbor under partly sunny skies

Childs Glacier & the Copper River

Old ice baby

Over the Fourth of July holiday we joined several friends for a trip across Prince William Sound. Two couples have recently acquired Volkswagon Vanagon camper vans and were eager to get them on the road, or sea as it were, to camp. We drove to Whittier in the Vanagons and sailed aboard the M/V Chenega, a high speed ferry, to Cordova. Arriving in Cordova we sampled the local cuisine (oysters and red salmon) and drove the 50 mile stretch of road to Childs Glacier where we camped for two nights on the banks of the Copper River. The Childs Glacier towers more than 200' above the River and was quite active during our visit. The Glacier moaned and cracked, sending thunderous kabooms across the valley each time house-sized pieces fell from its face into the silty Copper River. We spent most of one day watching the Glacier calve, cheering each time a large piece came crashing down. More pictures to come...

First Half

The Mayor's Midnight Sun Marathon and Half Marathon brought nearly 4,000 runners from 49 states and several friends from Kodiak to Anchorage's trails on Saturday. A slight breeze and mostly sunny skies made for excellent race day conditions at the start. While the picturesque course offering million dollar views of the Chugach Mountains and Cook Inlet made everyone a winner. I ran the half marathon course (my longest race distance to date) and Meg ran race support - meeting me at the finish with comfortable shoes and a dry shirt. During the race I was able to keep a steady pace and finish right at my goal. this was my first major individual race and it was really fun to be at the start with thousands of other folks pumped about running. To me it's evidence that humans are hard-wired to run in groups. For instance I've noticed that my times are much faster when running with someone else. Perhaps it's a vestige of our ancestral persistence hunting tactic: running = survival.

Pickup

Tacoma at the Columbia

Mom takes a gander at the Gorge

After a spring spent hunting for a safe and reliable vehicle in which to explore summer in AK, Meg and I took the plunge and bought a pickup truck. We wanted something that we could use for camping in places with a paucity of developed campsites (e.g., the Denali Highway), yet small enough to parallel park downtown. A 4x4 was essential and we wanted to make sure that we had a place to retreat to if any bruins got too close (i.e., our encounter in Montana). So we found a Toyota in Colorado for a fair price and made the purchase. Lacking the vacation time to drive the truck all the way up to AK, we decided to put it on the barge in Seattle. Last weekend my Mom helped me drive it from Colorado to Seattle. We had good weather and Mom got to see parts of the West that she had never been to before. We took the "northern route" through Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. It reminded me of my younger days taking road trips with the family, when the journey was the destination. I could not have made the trip without Mom - as always a great traveling companion.

On the river

Out for a practice float in the Taiya River near Skagway, AK


Ben and Laura prepare to put in near Dawson, YT

Laura conducts trip logistics

Two good friends recently set off on a two month adventure paddling the Yukon River. Ben and Laura plan to kayak most of the length of the Yukon river this summer. When possible, they will send dispatches from the field and update their position via their Spot Satellite Messenger. As you might expect, being completely self-sufficient during the next 60 watery days requires considerable planning. Meg and I are excited to be part of the support crew. We have been mailing boxes of food and reading materials to places along the river where Ben and Laura will stop for provisions.