In tape we crust (ski)

Chris repairs the day's first failure

While the trails in town have surrendered their snow to the 50 degree temps, the weather has been perfect for crust skiing in the mountains surrounding Anchorage. On Saturday I was invited to join a few of seasoned experts who seek solitude and distance on their crust skiing excursions. An early alarm (5 am) and a drive down to the Kenai Peninsula brought us to some pretty amazing skiing -- accompanied by three pieces of broken equipment.

A fixit shop among the trees

We skied along a frozen river and an (unlawful) snow machine trail to a broad meadow. Much of the trail was rutted and it proved challenging to maintain one's balance. After skiing into a deep rut I heard a snap and instantly knew that my trusty pair of rock skis would never be the same. When I caught up to the group, they immediately set to work mending the cracked ski with the duct tape I was advised to bring along. Luckily, Chris brought along an emergency ski tip for such an occasion and fastened it to the shortened ski. Moments later a broken pole required more tape and a few cottonwood branches.

Corey ties up the repaired pole (notice the ski with the funny tip)

With all gear adequately mended the tour continued into a bright white meadow where the crust was perfect for high speed cruising. We skied to the top of the meadow and looked toward our intended destination - a high pass unreachable with hobbled gear and a greenhorn. We made the call to turn back at about 11 and rocketed back down the meadow toward the riverbed that would take us back to the trialhead. Sure enough, a bit of hotdogging snapped Martin's ski beneath the foot and forced him to ski most of the return trip on one foot. As for me, I'll be scouring Craigslist for another pair crust/ rock skis.

All smiles and speed in the meadow

Ski train

Meghan happy to be off the train and on her skis above the Susitna River Valley

With Mark and Laurence inside the "Wine & Cheese Car"

Live entertainment

An overdue post on our trip aboard the infamous Ski Train. Departing from Anchorage at 7 am and returning well after 8 pm, the Ski Train was full day outing consisting of early morning cocktails, costumes, a polka band, and a little skiing thrown in. At times it felt intercontinental - nibbling on cheese and sipping wine while sitting in the glass domed rail car as Alaska's wilderness flashed by. At others it felt like a cramped car trip with dozens of loud traveling companions. Although the scenery was spectacular and it was great to get out with friends, Meg and I agreed that once is enough for the Ski Train.

In the Sea

It is illegal to take shells from the beaches in Hawai'i...so I just collected and then replaced these finds. Lots of seaglass onshore, to my delight. We also learned that we could not carry fruit from Kaua'i on to Oahu and the fruit policeman and his x-ray machine caught Bruce trying to sneak an orange across the border.

The morning of our first day on the Island was cool and rainy-we were the only people to get in the water at Anini Beach-we tested the water temperature in our raingear before committing.

Another cool day, at Ke'e beach.

Strange Fruit

Our last supper on the Island-a fantastic fruit, smoothie, and sandwich stand that we stumbled across after our stop at Moloa'a Beach. We devoured mahi-mahi, ahi, tangelo, lychee, the most flavorful bananas we have ever tasted, and an incredible smoothie. Amazing after a day of sun and sand. We tended to enjoy the best dining experience on the occasions when I would be overwhelmed with frustration and throw the guidebook into the backseat of the Vibe.

At Moloa'a we saw evidence of the tsunami's impact-an unusually high wrack and an abundance of plastic beach debris. Beachfront home owners worked to repair damage to their buildings.

Bruce absorbs some final rays.

Time flies...

We enjoyed our trip to the North Shore so much that we are already plotting our return for next year. There are so many reasons to go back. We especially enjoyed the sleepy feel and slow pace of the windward side of the island. At the top of our list though, are the many different beaches to explore. Each sandy spot that we visited was unique. There were great reefs for snorkeling, waves for surfing, sun for tanning, and of course - sand for combing. Here are a few shots of the beaches where we stayed long enough to snap a pic or two.

Secret Beach

Anini Beach

Larsons Beach

Hanalei Bay

Island diversity

Located more than 2,ooo miles from the nearest continental shore, the Hawaiian archipelago is the most isolated group of islands in the world. Nonetheless, we've caught a glimpse of several species that have found their way here one way or another including animals not pictured below such as humpback whales and the great frigatebird.

green sea turtle

red-footed booby

monk seal

sea meghan

whitemouth moray eel

red-crested cardinal

Postcard from paradise

We'll keep the words brief to save space for pictures of the beautiful island. When not preparing for a tsunami evacuation we've been enjoying the North Shore.

Our greeting to the accommodations

The view from our lanai

Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge

Haena Beach and Bali Hai

Next post, local wildlife...

Tour reflection

Before: with a Tour veteran

The symbolic end of another Alaskan winter came and went on Sunday as we took part in the 24th annual Tour of Anchorage ski marathon. After skiing the 40k distance last year I signed up for the 50k distance this year. Meg ran race support, shuttling me and friends to the start and cheering us on along the route. It's amazing how much mental space the Tour occupies throughout the winter. After the race I sat down and took off my ski boots and Lycra. I paused, and felt my brain empty out. I had nothing in the near future to prepare for - no more worries about race times or bonking or whether I was skiing enough. And although I would have liked to have skied the race a bit faster, I am satisfied with my results considering the winter that was. Meg's winter-long bar prep required added attention. I neglected to get seen for a knee injury that nagged all winter until three weeks ago. And preparations for this specific race were not adequate. At the risk of listing excuses, I rarely skied longer than 90 minutes at a time this winter and on race day I slept in and ended up eating breakfast too late which caused some serious difficulty on the very hilly first 10k. All in all, it was quite the learning experience and it was great seeing friends do so well. Looking forward to 2012...

After: 50k and still smiling

Meg in motion

Meg has taken to the trail every day after work this week.

Hallelujah

Meghan finished taking the exam at the end of last week and life is slowly returning to normal around here. While she was studying it felt like only half of Meghan was around and it's nice to have all of her back. Many well wishers have sent congratulations her way after finishing and we are quite grateful it is over. Looking ahead, it seems that life will move forward very quickly. Next week we take our belated honeymoon and when we return 12 hrs. of daylight will greet us. The extended days seem to put energy levels on overdrive and summer comes before you know it. Which is nice, considering we'll have to wait three months to get Meg's results. The picture above is from the morning walks Meghan and I took during her three days of test taking last week.

Reinforcement

Last week Meg's mom, Deb paid a visit. She provided much needed emotional and domestic support for our little bar exam-taker. When not cooking up a storm or taking care of Reb, Deb was on her skis as much as possible, always on the lookout for moose and other critters. Luckily, our neck of the woods was quite a popular spot for the boreal ungulates, as they seemed to stop by the front yard once a day during Deb's visit. We also toured Powerline Pass on Saturday under bright February sun to play in the 8" of fresh snow. Thanks for the visit Deb - we couldn't have made it to the test without you.

Sundowner

5:46 pm

Update: Russian gray whale on the move

Meghan scans for gray whales off Narrow Cape during Kodiak's 2009 Whale Fest

It looks like Flex, the wayward Russian western gray whale, successfully crossed both the Bering Sea and Gulf of Alaska and was recently swimming off the coast of Vancouver Island. A local BC paper reports that although Flex is following a well established eastern gray whale migration route, he is keeping his distance from his eastern Pacific cousins.

Flex is now more or less following the migration route of Eastern Pacific gray whales, but he's aloof, staying farther offshore than they do. The reason for uncertainty about Flex's uniqueness is that researchers have never tracked a Western Pacific gray so extensively.

Flex's speed and determination indicates that he may join other grays at their Mexican breeding grounds. He'd better hurry though, by March most of the single whales will have begun their northward migration to Kodiak and beyond.

Saturday sun

Saturday offered clear skies, sun, and crisp air - perfect for snapping pics of the Anchorage Bowl. The Great One and the Alaska Range were on display to the north and surrounding ranges - Chugach and Tordrillo - showed their stuff as well. I took the camera along on an afternoon ski and dropped the shots into a slideshow between grabs from an FAA webcam located in downtown Anchorage.

Evening commute - no flash

Today was cloudless and we finally got to see how much light we've gained this week. Like Candlemas Day, the first day when it's possible to make it home from work without lights marks winter's turning point. I left the office at 5:30 and skied home under civil twilight. As the days become longer energy levels increase and moods brighten. - just in time for Meg's big test and the big race.

Candlemas Day

Halfway between the solstice and the equinox, Candlemas Day (Imbolc, in Old Irish) celebrates the return of daylight to northern latitudes. We will reach eight hours of light in a day or so and welcome the rays. Candlemas Day is also the precursor to Groundhog Day. Traditionally, depending on the environs, folks watched for critters like serpents or badgers to emerge from their dens. According to the limerick below, most of Alaska and the L48 will be rewarded with an early Spring - no shadows to be seen today.

For as the sun shines on Candlemas Day,

So far will the snow swirl until May.

For as the snow blows on Candlemas Day,

So far will the sun shine before May.

The trail

Assorted sights on the Anchorage trail system

Smartly cloudy

As the light slowly returns to 60 degrees north (we've more than 7 hrs./day now) and the weather patterns shift a bit, the clouds that fill the Anchorage Bowl begin to put on a show. Perhaps the convergence of weather that crosses over the Chugach Mountains to the east with the warmer air sitting above Cook Inlet to the southwest is a factor in the area's picturesque cloud formation. Although never quite as spectacular as some of the clouds found in other parts of the world, the Alaska clouds are remarkable in their own way. During most weekdays I can watch the sun rise from my office window as it pitches light against the clouds. (the first photo is from my desk chair; photos two and three are from Meg and Nicole's visit to Denali this summer).

Birthday up on Hatcher Pass

This weekend we joined a few friends to celebrate the 30th birthday of Leslie, a good friend whom Meghan met while in law school. The party was a surprise and all celebrants had to sneak up to the Hatcher Pass Lodge undetected. Although the Alaskan winter sun had set hours before, the drive up the pass to the Lodge was white and serene as fresh snow blanketed the area. We enjoyed hot drinks, halibut, a delicious cake, and shared a few laughs before heading back toward Anchorage. On the return trip down the Pass, Meghan used her headlamp to "shine," then tried to call in a bull moose crossing the road to no avail.

The Lodge at night

Leslie's husband Harry presents the piece de resistance

Harry provides levity for the bar-weary Meghan

Skiing fast slowly

Ice floats to the sea in Knik Arm

A good friend passed on a word of advice after a training ski this week. He quoted Olympic great Gunde Svan, a Swede with four cross country golds, who said that one should 'ski fast slowly.' In other words, it's much better to relax and be patient with each stride to maintain maximum efficiency. Much of the Big Race in March involves long efficient strides, so I skied 20 km of the course slowly, building speed by concentrating on each kick and glide. Along the way I stopped to watch the flowing tide carry ice down the Knik Arm to the Gulf of Alaska.