Happy Alaskans

Bruce and I both had a great time visiting our respective families and home states over the holiday. We think that this might have been the last time that we could get away with splitting up for the season as matrimony looms in 2010. Perhaps we will just have to book tickets to Hawaii next year...

This headline greeted us in today's paper:

We live in our happy place (statistically, anyway)

This just in, Alaska: We’re happy.
In a study published earlier this month in Science magazine, Alaska was ranked the 11th happiest state in the country. We beat out Washington (rank: 36) and Oregon (rank: 30), Colorado (rank: 21), sunny California (rank: 46) and New York, which ranked last.

photo by Shelley Sanderman: sometimes Alaskan, always making us happy.

Le Tour

For better or worse, I registered for the Tour of Anchorage yesterday. The 23-year-old ski marathon features four races in both classic and freestyle forms. Being a novice, I chose the 25k freestyle race for my competitive debut. What's most appealing about the race - and the upcoming training - is that the route passes in front of our house, in fact I can ski a portion of it to and from work. While this winter started dry, we've had about 20" of snow fall in town this week and the trails - once groomed - should be quite enjoyable for skating. I've recently noticed that this is the first winter in recent memory I have not been out on telemark skis before Christmas. It seems that skate skiing has sated my desire for speed on skis. Indeed, when everything comes together, skating on a well-groomed trail often feels like speeding downhill. In the meantime, I'll be looking for training tips (Patrick?), a spandex suit, and "more cowbell."

poem by Matthew Brennan

Nights Our House Comes to Life

by Matthew Brennan

Some nights in midwinter when the creek clogs
With ice and the spines of fir trees stiffen
Under a blank, frozen sky,
On these nights our house comes to life.
It happens when you're half asleep:
A sudden crack, a fractured dream, you bolting
Upright – but all you can hear is the clock
Your great-grandfather found in 1860
And smuggled here from Dublin for his future bride,
A being as unknown to him then as she is now
To you, a being as distant as the strangers
Who built this house, and died in this room
Some cold, still night, like tonight,
When all that was heard were the rhythmic clicks
Of a pendulum, and something, barely audible,
Moving on the dark landing of the attic stairs.

"Nights Our House Comes to Life" by Matthew Brennan, from The House with the Mansard Roof. © The Backwaters Press, 2009.

beware the pogonip

I don't think that we are actually experiencing ice fog right now, but the city has been impressively socked-in for the past week in a heavy, freezing fog. My office overlooks the inlet and a shade of gray has been draw across my windows. Yesterday I found myself googling phrases such as "fog madness" and "fog induced insanity." Everything is coated with a dry hoarfrost which lends the city a surreal appearance and makes me feel like I am in Narnia. I have not been served any Turkish delight, yet...

skating fool

While Rebel and I are on the couch updating the blog this morning, Bruce is out for a ski along the trails here in town. Bruce has picked up the technique more quickly than some members of our household, much to someone's chagrin. He is hoping to join in some of the local races in 2010. I might have to invest in a cow bell...

Arctic sunrise

The sun is rising around 10 AM these days-last weekend we were treated to some fantastic colors. This weekend we are socked-in with freezing fog.

Gettin' Excited 'bout the 'Lympics

Meghan on her new skis? Nope, Anchorage 'Lympian Kikkan Randall skiing Powerline Pass Trail
(Photo: Mark Meyer)

Not that anyone is counting, but we're 10 days from the solstice, less than a month from celebrating a new year, and two months from tomorrow the Winter Olympics in Vancouver begin. Although there are several reasons to dislike the modern Olympics - it's brazen commercialism, the large-scale amount of waste generated by changing venues each Olympiad, and of course an over-exposure of Bob Costas - we can't help but get excited about this year's Winter Games. Meghan is thrilled that her favorite country, Canada, is hosting this year. We also love to root for hometown athletes - especially in the unique events featured in the Winter Games. This year we are keenly interested in nordic skiing. A fellow Alaskan, Kikkan Randall, is touted as a favorite for the nordic freestyle sprint competition. As reported in The Times Randall can be spotted training on Anchorage trails and eating the occasional doughnut at local eateries. The Olympics also seem to freeze time, marking different stages of life. I can remember with whom and where I watched several Olympics. For instance, Beijing 2008, when not camping on our drive up to Alaska, Meghan and I were able to watch the Summer Games with varying degrees of clear reception on the TV at the occasional motor lodge across western Canada. I remember sitting next to my late grandmother as she clasped her hands, anxiously awaiting Kerri Strug's final vault in Atlanta. For good or bad, the Olympics turn sport into drama and we often can't hep but get caught up in the spectacle. Now, who's gonna supply the flatscreen?

The Hunters of Greenland

The Kodiak birthday hunt seems balmy compared to these conditions

After reading the morning paper I just had to share what I found. That purveyor of yuppie cool, The New York Times, features an incredible album of black and white photos depicting Inuit hunters on Greenland. The Icelandic photojournalist, Ragnar Axelsson's photographs capture the arctic's stark beauty with an intense immediacy that seems to belie the toilsome work of procuring food in such a harsh climate. Make sure to read the blog post and visit Mr. Axelsson's own site.

Harvesting a narwhal (Monodon monoceros)

It's Great to Skate

Gearing up in the "front yard"

This weekend Meghan and I discovered a new way to enjoy the Alaskan winter - skate skiing. Like classic skiing, skate skis are made for gliding on snow. Unlike classic skiing, skate skis are shorter, skinnier, and designed to be used on edge. Instead of kicking with the base of the ski flat on the snow like a classic ski, a skate, or freestyle skier, kicks with the edge of the ski at angle to propel forward - like ice skating. After the lesson we realized that we can move quite fast when skate skiing - I got giddy.

Out to the Inlet

The day after our lesson we ventured from our house to Anchorage's Coastal Trail. I was delighted to be able to strap on our skis directly in front of our house and begin skiing. The Chester Creek Trail - which I use to bike to work - connects with the Coastal Trail about a mile from our house. The snow on the trails was a little bumpy, but smooth enough to feel the thrill of the speed of this new-found method of sliding on snow. Meghan and I agree that it has been nice to live with powdery snow on the ground during the winter months. Back in Denver an occasional blizzard would dump a foot or two on the ground, but the high, dry temps would soon melt the snow away. Kodiak's maritime climate provided plenty of precipitation and snow to the mountains, but the frequent warmer temperatures would bring rain and ice to the island melting snow or turning it to ice in town.

And back before dark

We had a great time during our ski and even crossed paths with friends who took part in Friday's lesson. I can't wait to get back out there. As I write, sunlight is still an hour hence, but perhaps a headlamp will do. Now I have to convince Meghan that skiing the Tour of Anchorage would be a fun thing to do this winter.