Gustavus Pictures!

Sitka Pictures!
We've got up some pictures from Sitka. Enjoy!
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Home at last.
Usually at the end of a trip this long, I'm longing to get home. When I first saw how few clothes I had packed into that backpack, I was sure that at the end of two weeks I would want nothing more than to be home in a clean pair of shorts.
Not the case with this trip. I wanted more. I wanted to go back to Denali and camp deep in the park. I wanted to see more cities, more glaciers, more wildlife.
But alas, real life returns. I spent an hour tonight going through all my email. There are bills to be paid.
Most people our age that we met along the way were in a sort of extended vacation or "break." Many had finished school, but were avoiding starting work. Some spend their summers in Alaska as a Kayak guide and then move on somewhere warmer to do some other macho-fun outdoors kind of job. Some on some kind of holy-grail quest as they travel all across North America. I did become thankful for a job and a family that I would return too. Experiences like these that we've had are great. But they become even more powerful when there is a different context in which they continue to live. Jen's first student ministry lesson of the school year on the creation story will be radically shaped by our experiences. Even my gray cubicle wall software job won't be the same after this trip. I'm not sure yet, but I think that developing software is a lot like the way a glacier moves through a valley.

Well you should hear a bit about our last day in Anchorage. There were a couple of Native Heritage center / museum things that we did. There were educational and a little interesting. We did a walking tour of downtown, seeing all the corners of Anchorage. There is quite a lot of interesting history surrounding the 1964 Good Friday Earthquake that wiped out a good part of the city and many surrounding towns. In that I did see the resilience. Events like these don't get taught in schools across the country, but looking at what south-central Alaska recovered from in 1964 give me hope about places like New Orleans and the other gulf coast towns devastated last year. We have been through such things in the past and we will continue to deal with them.

I'll post some pictures or links in the next couple of days as we sort through all of out pictures. Thanks for traveling along with us!

Home Stretch
One final day in Alaska. We're currently in the process of packing everything back into our packs. We'll leave our B&B (Which has been a great place to stay) and see everything that Anchorage has to offer. There is a saying that Anchorage isn't in Alaska, but you can see it from there. Most Alaskans don't think much of the big city, but they'll all still catch a flight from there. In what other major US city can you fly ten minutes or drive an hour and be in pristine wilderness?

We fly over-night to get home. Franklin, the cat, can't wait.

Stop Moving
I can't see anything if I'm moving. The light can bounce of things and hit my eye, but I still can see it if I'm moving.
I can't see the whales until the Taz's engines are shut down.
I can't see the Marjorie glacier until the Baranof Wind drops her anchor.
I can't see a shorebird until I stop paddling my kayak
I can't see the Exit Glacier until I set down my trekking poles
I can't see Mt. McKinley until I pull the F-150 to the side of the road
I can't see the bear until the Bus stops rumbling
I can't see my wife until we are sitting side by side

I guess its more about experiencing with multiple senses, not just seeing.

Smelling the whale breath, hearing the blow and the trumpet.
Hearing the glacier creak and groan and feeling the bone chilling coldness blow over the top.
Hearing the bird call and splash.
Feeling the sun and stretching my eyes to their peripheral edges to see more than even a wide angle lens could capture.
Hearing the brush rustle as the bear crawls through.
Feeling her warmth beside me.

I want to experience all of life with all those senses. They work together to create an experience. But they won't work until I first
Stop
Moving

Hello from the Alaska State fair. It was happening just a few miles from where we are staying, so we said "Why Not?" I just saw the 1000+ pound pumkin. The winning cabbage weighed in at 73.4 pounds. That's what happens when you get 20+ hours of sunlight in the summer.

Jen took my picture next to the Big Eli ferris wheel. It always brings me come comfort to know that the great big ferris wheel had its beginnings in Jacksonville, IL too.

Denali - the great one - the high one
What a place. There is something very unique about Denali as compared to all the other national parks. You can't drive in, you have to board one of the big school buses to get into the park. The road in is only open from June to September. As a result, the place is actually wild. The bears don't know the sound of human voices, the low rumbling of the buses diesel rarely even raises a head. Truely wild.
I have to start with the greatest moment of our time in Denali. A brown bear crossed the road just ahead of us and dissapeared into the adjacent brush. (It's startling how something that big can slip so easily into the brush and dissappear. We waited just as silently and then he popped up on his hind legs not mroe the twenty yards in front of my window. It was the first time all trip that I'd had the camera in the right place at the right time. I can't wait to share this image with you.

I had thought that an 8 hour round trip bus ride would have bounced and bored me to death, but I sat on the edge of my seat for nearly the entire time. We saw bear and moose and caribou and wolves and eagles and dall sheep. The bus bounces along until someone sees something and hollers out. The driver pulls over to the side and shuts down the engine. The green bus leans heavily to one side while the occupants clamour over. Everyone goes silent. (The brief you on this before you leave, they don't want the animals to hear human voices.) We watch. and watch. There was a film we later saw in the visitor center that had no narration. The point was that you were supposed to listen to the park and it would tell you everything you needed to know about it. That what it was like in those moments when the bus goes silent and we watched and listened.

The bus lets you off anytime you want and you can jump on the next one that comes by. There are very few trails in the park. They just encourage you to set off across the tundra then find your way back to the road. We got out a couple of times in order to be alone for a bit. With 6 million acres and limited access, it is pretty easy to find a quiet spot.

Our campsite was about 14 miles into the park in the sparse black spruce forest. We camped for both nights, but the frost on the tent this morning told me that last night was about the coldest that we would be able to handle. I'm not sure what the temperature got down to, I just still haven't completly warmed up.

This morning we drove out of the park to an adjacent ranch and took a 2 hour hourseback ride across the tundra. The clouds hung low this morning and our horses sloshed through the soggy tundra. I know I learned about it in fourth grade, but the ground underneath the tundra never thaws, so you have this soggy ground that won't drain because of the permafrost. What was most remarkable about the horse ride was the colors we saw. Turns out that it's really fall up here. The trees and shrubs across the tundra are a remarkable splash of reds and yellows. And I've never really known that there are so many shades of green. Crayola still has a way to go if you want to draw this landscape.

We did get a glimpse of about half of Mt. McKinely. Frommer's guidebook says don't bother comming here if you want to see the mountian. I think it's only visible about 8 days a year. The clouds hang over it most of the time. The cold ice prevents any warm arm from pushing the weather systems up, so they just hang there. We still have a chance on the drive back to Anchorage though.

There is plenty more to share, but it's time for us to get on the road and coffeeshop folks are hanging close over my shoulder.

Exit Glacier
I know you are never supposed to begin with an apology, but I know I'm going to have a hard time getting this one out. My words won't do it justice, nor will the pictures we took.

We had hesitantly signed up for this hiking trip knowing that it would be strenuous. We got fitted with helmets and crampons (little claw things that strap to your boots) and got dropped off with a guide at the base of Exit Glacier. I was feeling okay until he told us that we would start off by climbing 1400 feet in just over a mile. We were talking about skiing on the way up and I remarked that our climb was twice that of the tallest hill we ski on in Wisconsin.

The climb was tough - very steep in some places. We were well outfitted though. I'd never hiked with trekking poles before, but what a difference they make. They are basically ski poles that lets you use your arms to help you walk. It takes so much stress off of your knees and ankles. We continued to ascend to the high point of the hike. We stood on this mini peak and had this amazing 360 degree view. That spot became my new favorite spot in Alaska. The glacier lay off to one side, slowly sliding down the valley with another glacier spilling off the icefield over the top. Clockwise 90 degrees there was the lip of the icefield, another 90 degrees was the opposite side of the valley which we scoured for wildlife. And the final turn gave us a vast view looking out of the glacial valley at several other glaciers and distant mountains. I wanted to linger there forever.

We had to move on though. This was the point at which we left the marked and maintained trail and picked our way cross country through an alpine meadow. Walking up a stream a bit and then to the rock slide. "The what?" I asked my guide. "It's about 30 yards of shear hill with loose rocks that we'll just kind of slide down." This is where we donned our helmets and scratched and scooted our way down clinging to alder bushed that had a much firmer grip on the soil than did we.

And then we were there. . . Right at the glaciers edge. We cramped on the cramp-ons and took our first steps onto the ice. At first your not real sure where the ground stops and the ice begins, the edges of the glacier being to embedded with loose rock and debris. Eventually we got comfortable with out new spider man abilities and were criss crossing the glacier. I had kind of imagined that the glacier would by a solid sheet of ice that just kind of floated along, but it was nothing like that. It's covered in huge crevices, streams, waterfalls, moulons (deep round holes). It's this whole other world that's constantly shifting and changing. A stream will get redirected and break through a new place. The crevices open and close as the ice slides over rock formations beneath. There even its own ecosystem. The red algae are eaten by ice worms that are eaten by little marmots. Even the bears will make there way onto the ice. (Their cramp-ons are built-in)

And the view back down the valley was tremendous. The river pouring out and snaking along.

Going up the rock slide was a little easier than going down it, and our hike down was less strenuous than going up, but bone-jarring all the way. We stopped again at that fabulous 360 view and finished out out trip. Five hours of hiking, climbing, sliding, and cramping.

We drove all the way back to Anchorage last night and stayed in a little dive called the Caribou Inn. It wasn't very nice, but it had a desperately needed hot shower (The first since Saturday!).
We were blessed with this amazing sunset, which I hope the camera did catch. Orange and purple and blue with amazing clouds and a rainstorm in front of it. All along the Seward highway people had pulled off the road to watch it. I felt like Moses, I might die if I saw any more of God's glory. And to think, my eyes are still veiled!

On to Denali today. 4-6 hours of driving, then we'll set up our tent and board the bus up into the park tomorrow morning.