Moving In

The important stuff safe and sound in the new Anchorage pad.

Leaving Kodiak

Bye Bye Wilcos, See You Soon

Meghan and I are receiving many well wishes on the move to the mainland. The night before I left on the ferry the Wilcos threw an impromptu going away party featuring fresh salmon that Boppa Wilco caught, ironically enough, while he was in Anchorage last weekend picking up the family's new surf wagon. Momma Wilco, Paxson and Stokely baked a ferry cake.

Looks just like a ferry doesn't it? ("Boos" is Paxsonspeak for "Bruce")

Have Wiener, Will Travel

The next day I filled up the car with our remaining belongings and our friend Alicia helped distract Meghan from the stresses of moving by taking a long walk with her and the dogs. We then headed to town for sushi before I drove onto the ferry. As the Tustumena steamed out of the harbor I tried to call the memories of our first glimpses of Kodiak to mind and began to appreciate all that I have learned and experienced while on the Island. One things for sure, we are going to miss our Island friends.

Waiting to board the M/V Tustumena

Whales vs. Cruise Ships

Experts examine a fin whale in Vancouver

Earlier this summer "the Future" featured a report about an oil tanker that struck a humpback whale in Prince William Sound. Well, it seems that another ship has arrived to port with a whale on its prow. The Vancouver Sun reports that a cruise ship hit the carcass of a fin whale and dragged it to Vancouver. Scientists later found that the whale had nothing in its stomach and only a thin layer of blubber suggesting that the whale had suffered an illness. What's interesting about the Sun story is that the article is found in the "Health" section of the paper's online edition beneath headings such as "Family & Child," "Seniors," and "Fitness." I wonder if folks at the Sun have been reading and listening to recent reports in the Times and on Fresh Air about the surprising interactions between whales and humans, including instances where whales have playfully lifted small boats from the water and gently set them back on the surface. The most striking new information about whale behavior and physiology, however, is the recent report that the whale neocortex, the part of the brain responsible for higher-order thinking, is much larger (by percentage) than the human brain. Perhaps, argues Dr. Lori Morino, the whale neocortex is so highly evolved because during its evolution from a hippopotamus the whale experienced such dramatic changes in its physiology (e.g. losing limbs, moving its nose to the top of its head and developing sonar). No word yet on whether whales have started using Twitter though.

The Waning Hours in Kodiak

Meghan and I stepped out for a walk after dinner to hunt for salmonberries. A month past the solstice, the evening light is fading as is the time we have left on the island. The next two days will be spent tying up loose ends and preparing for the voyage to the mainland with Reb to prepare the new homestead for Meghan's arrival next week. Although we were able to say goodbye to many of our friends during the Saltonstall's party on Saturday, we are feeling very nostalgic for the year that came and went all too fast.

We hiked a little ways up Kashevaroff Mountain to find bushes full of berries and, to Meghan's relief, no bruins. In the distance we watched the motions of the Kodiak we have come to know and love, the three new wind turbines churned through low clouds hanging over Pillar Mountain, the Horizon Kodiak container ship steamed toward Pier 3 and several cars slowed near bridges on the road to catch a glimpse of bears that have frequented the nearby streams in recent days.

the rain persists...

The boys are laying low, preparing for the big move...

Fishin' With Dad

Ready to Fish

My Dad the rambler flew in from Denver Sunday evening. We chartered the U-Rascal for a day of sport fishing on Monday morning. Chris, the skipper, is known for finding the big ones. "People have been complaining that they can't find any fish, but they're just hanging around town," explained Chris. So we set a course for a fishing hole several miles from Kodiak near Afognak Island. As we steamed across Marmot Bay the clouds parted revealing a brilliant blue sky . The Gulf of Alaska spanned the horizon to our right, while the forests, peaks and cliffs of Spruce and Afognak Islands jutted from the sea on the left. Puffins, fulmars and kittiwakes flapped from our wake and the spouts of several whale pods were visible in the distance. After a 90 minute voyage we reached the coast of Afognak Island and dropped our jigs. Before long silver (coho) salmon and the prized king (chinook) salmon were tugging at our lines. Each fish seemed to fight harder than the last. Eventually we caught our limit (two each) of king salmon and as many silvers as we could reasonably eat. We then switched to halibut tackle and from the minute the baited hook sank to the ocean floor we were fighting the tasty flatfish. Needless to say, we soon caught our limit of halibut as well and set our sights on home port. The trip back, however, was just as exciting as the fishing. Pods of Dall's porpoise (known to reach speeds of 30 knots) surfed in our wake, humpback whales jumped skyward in full body breaches and fin whales (second in size to the blue whale) raced in front of our bow. When it was all said and done Dad and I had brought home about 100 lbs. of fish.

Determined to land a monster chinook

Sea Kayak Skills Symposium

The Alaska Kayak School's "Burn"

On Saturday Meghan and I participated in the first of a four day intensive kayak class offered by the Homer-based Alaska Kayak School. The financial constraints of an upcoming relocation prohibited us from attending all four days of classes. Unfortunately, the weather turned wet the day before the class, soaking Kodiak in rain, while fog and low clouds clung to the hills and mountains. Fortunately, the Alaska Kayak School provides each student with a full-body dry suit that keeps body and limb dry and warm in very cold North Pacific seas. Our instructor Tom, however, claimed that the water surrounding Kodiak was refreshing, almost warm compared to the glacier-fed water around Homer. During the class we learned several rescues and maneuvers including the sweep stroke, draw stroke and low brace turn to increase our comfort and safety while on the water. Special thanks to Island Trails Network; a local nonprofit instrumental in bringing the Symposium to Kodiak.

Prepared to paddle

Heli Yeah! (Day Two)

Sun up: Center Mountain

The "party" atop Center Mountain continued until midnight as the sun dropped below the volcanic peaks of the Alaska Peninsula to the west. Sated by a tasty camp meal and anticipating the next day of skiing, we slid into our bags for sleep. Sunday morning greeted us with bright sun and a mild breeze. In the distance a low-lying fog shrouded Kodiak town. The three new windmills on Pillar Mountain, however, stood above the mist as though floating in air. Patrick provided the breakfast and the group prepared for a full day of skiing, skinning and hiking/bushwhacking (watch Patrick's video).

Skiing home

We took a morning ski run off the southern face of Center Mountain before packing up our gear and skiing home. The ground that Patrick used to cover in about three and a half hours during his yearly ski quests would take us nearly twice that. In addition to almost 2000' vert of skiing we had several miles of hiking and some mild bushwhacking ahead of us. The views of surrounding peaks, valleys and rivers, however, kept our heads up. Eventually Patrick did unsheathe his machete during the final leg of our hike as we dropped off a high ridgeline into Sargent Creek drainage. Though the vegetation was thick, a footpath led us toward the creek without incident. Soon, we found ourselves on a dusty road in Bells Flats in the bed of a Ford speeding toward our respective families, showers and ice packs. I would like to thank Steve, Greg, Lisa, Mike and Patrick for showing me around Kodiak's backcountry. I hope to be back soon.

Looking back on our lines

$15 Million Airport Coming to a Village Near You

Ouzinkie, a village of 165 souls located on Spruce Island will soon be home to a new airport, courtesy of the $1.1 billion FAA stimulus package. Read more in the Anchorage Daily News...

Heli Yeah! (Day One)

"Breathe, breathe in the air"

Soon after recovering from our bushwhacking adventure last week I got a call from Patrick offering another backcountry ski adventure. He proposed that we fly to the top of Center Mountain, camp and ski from the summit as far as possible before hiking home. After working out the logistics we decided to depart Saturday afternoon. For this excursion we joined up with pro skier Mike Mannelin, Greg, Lisa, and Steve. All of whom have extensive knowledge of skiing Kodiak's backcountry. The chopper was delayed due to morning fog that burnt off by mid-day so we waited at the helipad in eager anticipation. The wait was well worth the ride, however. We crammed our gear and our bodies (a little on the heavy side) into the aircraft and our pilot Tom fired up the chopper. As the rotors sped up and we lifted off I had the the first three minutes of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon playing in my head: the screaming woman's voice and the chopper's whine synched up and the cymbals crashed in at the moment of liftoff, then the sensation of floating over Kodiak's lush greens and rounded peaks - "Look around, choose your own ground." Only music could describe the ride.

On the trail of a brown bear behind Center Mountain.

The twenty minute flight to the top of Crown Mountain left me hungry for more. (Later I half-jokingly asked Meghan, "could we register at Chugach Powder Guides?") We offloaded our gear and chose a spot to set up camp before quickly gearing up for an evening ski. The views south and west toward the heart of Kodiak Island were spectacular - mountains and a couple of glaciers defined the horizon. After a long run of nearly 2000' vert, we found ourselves at the bottom of a high valley covered in snow. Brown bear tracks and scat left evidence of wildlife activity in the valley. We skied to end of the snow, pleased to be in the shadows as Kodiak has experienced "hot" weather for the last several weeks - a windless 70 degrees. We stuck on our skins and climbed back to the top of Center to prepare dinner and enjoy the sunset - four hours hence.

Mountain chef, guide and morale booster Patrick Saltonstall

Once reaching the summit the group settled in for appetizers (salami), dinner (red beans, rice, cabbage and salami), and drinks (rum, boilermakers and cherry tea). Greg and Patrick cooked up a delicious meal while I listened to the group's tales of adventure in the Kodiak backcountry. Patrick talked of his yearly quests to ski in every month of the year which compelled him to scramble the several miles on foot to the top of Center Mountain during summer months and ski. "Yup, I could climb up here, ski a run and hike back to the road in seven hours," explained Patrick. "I'm glad those days are over." Greg and Lisa carve out time to ski most of the year on the Island and are approaching the "one million vertical feet" mark. Mike, who has logged several hours in a chopper, told me about his appearances in heliskiing movies. "At first it's terrifying, then it becomes addictive, like crack cocaine." Steve and his wife Sharon own and operate Orion's, the only ski shop in town (besides Patrick's barn). Together they have flown many times to Kodiak peaks and Steve was able to describe many of the runs that we could see from our campsite - lots more to ski.

Looking south and enjoying the high life.

images from Canada Week

Here are some of my favorite shots from Shelley's visit...I think they capture the spirit of the week, particularly with the mysterious glowing effect.

another poem that has lingered in my mind...

Crush
by Ada Limón

Maybe my limbs are made
mostly for decoration,
like the way I feel about
persimmons. You can’t
really eat them. Or you
wouldn’t want to. If you grab
the soft skin with your fist
it somehow feels funny,
like you’ve been here
before and uncomfortable,
too, like you’d rather
squish it between your teeth
impatiently, before spitting
the soft parts back up
to linger on the tongue like
burnt sugar or guilt.
For starters, it was all
an accident, you cut
the right branch
and a sort of light
woke up underneath,
and the inedible fruit
grew dark and needy.
Think crucial hanging.
Think crayon orange.
There is one low, leaning
heart-shaped globe left
and dearest, can you
tell, I am trying
to love you less.

Printed in the New Yorker, June 8, 2009

Erskine Ski Tour

So far July has been a busy month. Our painting adventure is slowly progressing, yet the summer sun continues to draw us away from the house for outdoor adventures. Take a look at the lineup of activities so far this month: house painting (7/1), surfing at Pasagshak (7/3), kayak trip around Near Island (7/4), downhill ski tour Erskine Mountain (7/5). Although the surfing and paddling have been great, I am most excited about the recent ski tour of Erskine Mountain - a full day adventure that I will not soon forget (watch the video here).

Deep blues, bright greens and soft whites from Kodiak's high alpine

While discussing his recent skiing exploits this summer over dinner Friday evening, Patrick Saltonstall invited me to join him on a ski tour of Mount Erskine. Secretly, I have been pining for a chance to ski Erskine's deep bowls this summer after ogling them from our kitchen window. Patrick, famous for his speed on cross country skis and mountain climbing stamina, is a tenacious outdoor enthusiast. Whether retrieving a mountain goat from a high alpine cliff or, in this case, bushwhacking alder thickets to ski untouched snow, Patrick will let nothing stand in the way of his objective. So, after accepting his invitation I soon became anxious about the logistics of the tour. The climb to ski Erskine would require lots of climbing through thick Kodiak vegetation while carrying both skis and boots. I cast aside my reservations and agreed to meet Patrick at the golf course on the road to Pyramid Mountain. We would drop a car there and drive another to Burma Road to begin the tour.

"Patrick, I thought we were going snow skiing."

When I met Patrick the next morning he was chomping at the bit. We discussed other options for a different route, but then settled on our original plan. Patrick's confidence about the relative ease of the climb assuaged some of my fears - the machete handle poking out of his pack, however, caused a slight tremor in my bones. "We'll only have to use it on the way down, I have a trail cut part of the way." Patrick assured me. Soon, I would be thankful not only for sharp edges on my skis, but also for the sharp edge of Patrick's machete.

Just below the Barometer-Erskine saddle

We left Patrick's red truck and drove past the golf course toward our starting point. It was almost eerie watching twosomes carry their bags to the driving range while we discussed the day's ski tour. After parking and strapping our skis to our packs we began the walk up Burma Road toward Bell's Flats. We left the road after about 35 minutes of walking and climbed toward the saddle between Barometer Mountain and Mount Erskine. Following a trail that Patrick had cut several year's earlier we pushed through alders and salmonberries. While the vegetation was dense, about chest high, we were able to follow the trail's footpath and soon reached a hanging valley. The absence of a well worn footpath, I would soon learn, turns a moderately challenging hike into full-fledged "battle in the bush." In the valley we spotted a brown bear slowly moving to higher ground, keeping an eye on our movements.

Patrick enjoying the view from atop Erskine (the Alaska Peninsula is visible on the horizon)

Patrick and I reached the Barometer-Erskine saddle around 11 am and continued climbing to the top of one of Erskine's four peaks. The views from the top were stunning. To the south Kodiak's snow-white mountains reflected the July sun. The jagged Alaska Penninsula poked up behind Kodiak and Afognak peaks to the west. The north and east offered views of Kodiak's deep blue bays, while a lush green blanket covered the valleys and hills above sea level. We stopped only briefly to admire the view, snap a few pictures and gobble down a PBJ sandwich. Patrick then impelled us to continue on our objective: skiing. We carefully climbed along a scree slope to a large patch of snow lining one of Erskine's bowls. Once reaching the snow we enjoyed soft, yet stable turns to the bottom of the bowl. The opposite side of the bowl offered longer runs so we skinned up to a ridgeline along the rim of the bowl and found nearly 1000' of vertical - skiing until the snow turned to running water. Then the fun really began.

Skinning up to the ridgleline

To reach Patrick's red truck parked near the golf course we slung our skis over our shoulders and Patrick took out his machete. Following the creek fed by the snow we had just skied, Patrick led the way searching for traces of a footpath among the salmonberry, pushkie, alders. Where there was no footpath, where each footfall fell on thick brush, the going was extremely difficult. Our ski boots tangled in the thick vegetation - each step required coordination of the entire lower body. Patrick hacked through the alders as I struggled to remain upright on sidehills. Finding the path provided brief relief from the walking struggle. After nearly two hours of bushwhacking we reached the Buskin Riverbed and its wide open trail system. While the skiing was great, I now value above all, a well maintained trail. Many thanks to Patrick for his route-finding, photography, and enthusiasm in the face of a daunting excursion.

The route to Patrick's truck parked to the left of the lake in the valley below.

Shelley's Second Encounter of the Alaskan Kind...(Guest Post)

One of many highlights of the trip: throwing bottles off a friend's backyard cliff. Kodiak no longer recycles glass, so rather than sending it off to the landfill, we threw it off the cliff and created beach glass. This is legal. I'm sure of it.

July 4th, 2009: One of the best Independence Days EVER. Our friend, Jeff, hooked us up with a small swarm of sea kayaks and we spent the day kayaking around little islands. We saw seals and birds and assorted sea things...much bull kelp. We also stopped at several islands for some Mount Rainier Beer...a new product for me.

At one point, Bruce saw me resting on a mound of mussels and noted that he "doesn't usually sit right on top of the mussels because he doesn't want to crush them"...seemingly implying that while I was sunbathing, I was, at the same time, crushing sea creatures. I spent the rest of the trip walking a fine line between exploring things and killing them..

Doing a little rock skipping at one of our stops sea kayaking. Generally, I found people from Kodiak were not impressed by my throwing technique. There was teasing. I felt shame.

Meghan, Zoya, and I took a hike up to the new wind turbines overlooking Kodiak. Pretty amazing up close...very Alice in Wonderland-esque...

Had an amazing time in Kodiak, gorgeous weather, and fantastic seafood. So glad I came back for the summer...thank you to my friends, Meghan, Bruce, and the wiener...





















I don't know who this is. She looks dangerous though.

Happy Canada Day

In honor of this joyous and widely-celebrated holiday, our own little bundle of Canadian joy is arriving this afternoon, fresh off the plane from the mile-high city. We can't wait for "Shelley Visits Kodiak, Round II, in which it does not rain sideways and where she does not get carsick when Meghan attempts to drive her to the end of the road."