Daystr Goes North

Rain to SNOW

2009-05-31T18:09:00.001-08:00

Saturday, May 30, 2009

.It was a long night. I’m not sure if it is sitting in the car for hours on end, or laying in bed longer than we are used to because there is nothing to do but go to bed. At any rate, the morning started off rough. We forged ahead, packed our gear into the car and had a little breakfast. We had to wait until 8:30 for the restaurant to open, but managed to be on the road by 9:00.

We had made a pact that we were going to put some miles on today. If things went the way we planned, we would make it to Dawson Creek, about 500 miles. We weren’t on the road for 30 minutes when we can across the one thing we hoped we would not encounter; snow. Yes, the steady drizzle had gone and turned itself into snow, then back to drizzle, and then back to snow. So it continued all the way to Fort Nelson and beyond. Boy, were we glad we didn’t buy all that camping equipment.

The sights between Laird Hotsprings and Fort Nelson consisted of rock, rivers, and ‘folded’ mountains. Muncho Lake was one exception. Even though it was partly frozen, the teal blue waters were enchanting. I fell in love with that color. The rest of the ride was uneventful and even a little despairing as the foliage of the trees has reverted back to nothing but buds. The only thing more I could take was a nap. So I tried while Rick weaved around the winding road.

At 1:00, we arrived at Fort Nelson. It was a bigger town with everything one would need. We stopped at the local IGA for supplies, gassed up, and found a parking lot to have a picnic in the car. Then we headed out for Dawson Creek, 283 miles further down the road. Gradually the rain increased from a drizzle to an all out rain. Again, I am glad we are not camping.

Day Three - Rotten Eggs

2009-05-30T19:56:00.003-08:00

We slept in a little. According to the time change it was 8:30. It was a cool and drizzly morning, and we were feeling stiff and unmotivated. Rick had checked over the car and noticed one of the tires was low. So at 9:30 we headed back to Teslin to see if we could find some air. No such luck. We did find a can of stop leak, shot that in, and had breakfast at the local restaurant. The meal was nothing to write home about.

We hit road as the rein began to pick up. Once again we hit road construction that lasted about 12 miles or so. Rick joked that there wouldn’t be any paint left on the bottom of the car. It was raining hard enough to keep things wet, but not enough to wash all the dirt of the car. The scenery was only vague silhouettes of mountains in the fog.

On we drove seeing nothing too significant. At about 1:30 the rain stopped for twenty minutes. This gave us the opportunity to notice that there were less black spruce and more white. These were fuller in contrasts and much more visually pleasing than the other.

Our wildlife count for the day was a moose, two geese, a black bear, several bison and some free range horses. All enjoyed the first growth of green grass along the side of the road.

The banks were also lined with rock art. Hundreds of messages were written in rock along the road that stretched for dozens of miles. According to the Milepost, this tradition was started by the Watson Lake swim team in 1990 and reminiscent of the inukshuks. Inukshuks were stone figures built by the Inuit people to serve as landmarks.

We made several stops along the way despite the rain. We stopped in Nugget City to check out a gift shop and buy some ice. We stopped at the visitor center in Watson Lake and toured the exhibits depicting how the Alaskan Highway was built. Hopefully I will write more on that later. Besides make the pit stops for animal viewing, we stopped at the Laird River to check out the Cranberry Rapids.

The highlight of the day was our stop at the Laird Hotsprings. We were luck enough to get the second to the last room at the Liard Hotsprings Lodge. A family that we have unintentionally been caravanning with got the last. We were very glad because even though we had only traveled 300 miles today, we didn’t want to go any further. The reason we wanted to stay; why the hotsprings of course. Even though it was raining we made the 10 minute walk along the boardwalk to partake in nature’s hot tub. It didn’t smell the best (unless you like the smell of hard boiled eggs) but it sure felt great. Since we are staying, Rick will be able to make use of them again in the morning. With that, we are looking forward to a good nights sleep.

You Can Call Me Debbie

2009-05-30T19:49:00.002-08:00

After over forty years, I did something I haven’t done since I was a child. I got my hair cut short. Now, for most people this is not a big deal, but I wasn’t sure what the repercussions were going to be. I had wanted to make the change for quite some time, but couldn’t imagine what style would best suit me. The other important consideration was how Rick would deal with it. Over the last year or two I had been working on him; preparing him for the time I finally got up the nerve to do it.

I mentioned my plan to a few co-works and even confided in the fact that I was taking a risk because short hair on women had always been an item of controversy. I told them of the time several years back when I dared to cut my hair to shoulder length. It took Rick two weeks to get over it enough to talk to me again. So cutting my hair now before the 3500 mile drive back to Wisconsin could make things pretty uncomfortable or at least very quiet. I was prepared to accept whatever what going to happen.

So what did happen? I didn’t tell anyone I was going to actually do it, but the universe has its own way of working things out. Because it was somewhat spur of the moment, I was placed on a waiting list at my usual salon. In the meantime, I was able to make an appointment at another. Well, there was an opening and because they weren’t able to reach me on my cell, they called Rick’s. That phone call was the universe’s way of providing him a little foresight, so it wouldn’t be a total shock.

I had to pick Rick and Janis up right after I got my haircut. There was an initial disapproving glance then silence that lasted several hours. I had decided to take no offense and let him deal with it however he pleased. After several hours of avoiding eye contact, Rick took the bull by the horns, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, “I know you want me to look at your hairdo. It doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would.”

Needless to say, the years of projected disappointment and utter contempt blew away like dust in the wind. The real surprising thing happened a few days later. Rick took a good long look at me and admitted he liked it and that I looked like a Debbie.

So now I am enjoying the benefits of short hair. It’s easy to wash, style, and cool on the back of the neck. Sometimes, I look a little sporty and I’ve been told it even makes me look a little younger. All in all, I like it, and you can call me Debbie.

Traveling Back - Day Two

2009-05-29T08:01:00.003-08:00

Thursday, May 28, 2009

We were up by and fed by 8:00. The heavy rains of the night before had given us a free car wash and the air was fresh and clean smelling. We attempted to make exchange some currency, but were not successful so we headed out.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have a clean car for long. Immediately we hit road construction which was to continue from Tok to the Canadian border. Then it began to sprinkle. For the first part of our drive we used the mantra, “Bob and weave” as we made ever effort to miss the monstrous frost heaves and potholes. Truth be told, Rick has now mastered the technique of minimizing the potential of bottoming out.

The road construction and conditions slowed us down considerably. It took us near three hours to make it the 90 miles to the Canadian border. The road construction stopped once we made it into Canada, but the poor roads and weather continued. The most disappoint aspect of the trip was that the clouds obscured our view of the St. Elias Mountains. Apparently, these are the tallest mountains in Canada.

We really became discouraged when we saw snow. According to a sign at the wayside, this area was permafrost. It was so cold, the Kluane Lake was still frozen over. Granted the lake is huge, but according to one of the locals of Destruction Bay, it would most likely be frozen until mid-June.

By the time we got to Haines Junction, we were feeling a little worse for wear and decided to pull over for fifteen winks. Once we woke up, the skies began to clear and we actually got to see the sun and mountains even if we didn’t see any wildlife.

Just past Haines Junction we finally had our hopes realized when Rick spotted two young brown bear hanging around the side of the road. They evidently were trying to read the Frosty Freeze sign, because they hung around long enough for us to snap a couple pictures. A year in Alaska and we finally got to see bear. Yippe!

A little further, an old bridge caught our eye. It had been built in the early 20s and was in the process of being reconstructed to historical sake. It was worth stopping and taking a couple pictures.

Then we drove, and drove till we got to the metropolis of Whitehorse. It was about 6:30 and we had decided whether we want to stay or drive on. We pulled into a couple place and noticed gangs gathered. At least the group of young men looked liked they were in a gang. We found a diner and had some supper while we figured out our next move.

Still indecisive we turned to the handy milepost. I had scan through it earlier and found the little town called Teslin. It was about 100 miles (168 km, everything is km now). I called a resort and made a reservation. We were off.

Driving this time of night was a good choice. Teslin Lake and river are spectacular sights that span for miles. Then we came across the White Mountains that truly lived up to their names. Two fantastic bridges were also part of the trek. All in all, I this was the highlight of the days drive.

Finally, at 10:30, we pulled into the Dawson Peak Resort. A newer established constructed of older trailer. Everything was closed down, but the key to our room was in the door waiting for us. Within minutes we were in bed. Another day; another 500 miles. Only a few thousand more to go.

The Long and Winding Road Back to Wisconsin - Day 1

2009-05-29T07:58:00.001-08:00

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

We left Anchorage at 9:00 AM. It was windy and a little chilly, but the trip out of town was effortless and traffic was light. Our fully loaded car had been reorganized the night before. This gave us at least a little bounce between out axle and the springs.

By the time we got past Palmer, the sun was beginning to peek out of the clouds showing a newly emerging flora and magnificent geography to go along with it. Everything was more lush and full. The mountains were beautiful hanging below what was left of the gray clouds. Then we came across one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Set with in the Chugach Mountain range as a backdrop as the Mantanuska River valley spanned for miles and to its origin, the Mantanuska Glacier. Words and pictures can not describe the size and splendor. It is truly a sight to see.

But like life, things change. It wasn’t long and we were in a totally different place. The land was covered with narrow black spruce that seemed to be dying off. In comparison to the lush green we had experienced earlier in the day, the land seemed sharp and not a place I would ever want to live in.

We can upon a little town called Eureka pretty much consisted of a diner/gas station. We stopped there for a nice hot bowl of lima bean and ham soup. It really hit the spot and helped to break up the monotonous stretch of highway.

Finally we stopped for the night at Tok, about 287 miles from Anchorage. We got a modest room in the Golden Bear Resort and Campgrounds just before heavy rains started to fall. We did some laundry and hit the sack. We hadn’t gone far, but all in all it was a good day.

The Last of Tustumena

2009-05-27T18:20:00.004-08:00

Thursday was a hard day; My last day at Tustumena. The entire staff met at Rocky’s Café for breakfast. There I was present with a Tustumena pin and a token gift as a farewell. Without a doubt, they appreciated me as a person and professional almost as much as I appreciated working with them. I was able to hold it together and accept the recognition without breaking into tears. That wasn’t the case at checkout.

I signed up to checkout first, because I knew the longer I stayed the harder it would be. It was still hard. My principal, Bob, went through the list and then looked at me and said “I guess I all that’s left if to wish you a good summer." He stood up with outstretched arms and gave me a parting hug saying, "We're really going to miss you.” Yeah. That’s when I lost it. I had no words and my tears said it all. I had said everything I wanted to say before, and now even if I wanted to say something else, I couldn’t. I made my exit.

Within the next half hour, I said my good-byes to everyone else. Some of them respected colleagues, several of them friends. I know we will stay in touch. I shut my door for the last time and left. If things would have been different, I would be staying at Tustumena. Leaving there is one of the hardest things I ever had to do. In may cultures, people mourn a loss by cutting their hair.

I sat in that chair and watched hair that had never been shorter than shoulder length hit the floor. By the time I was finished, I accepted the fact that things are not be the way I would like them to be. I also made the decision to trust that everything is as it should be. Now, even if I wanted to say something else, I wouldn't.

Awakened at the River

2009-05-06T12:04:00.005-08:00

Today I saw my first mosquito and heard my first spring peeper. They reminded me of how much I love nature. For these last few weeks in Alaska, I am fortunate enough to be staying along the banks of the Kasilof River thanks to the generosity of one of my teacher friends, Marina Bosick. Her home is part the 160 acres homesteaded by her parents. The river surrounds the property, creating a private, sanctuary-like peninsula. This is the Alaska I had in mind.

For the first time in a long time, I walked down a secluded road and encounted only the things placed here by nature. The possibility of running into a grizzly brought a sense of adventure, but the overall feeling that came over me is one of peace and contentment. The long winter is over. The trees are budding, and the silty-green water swirled and babbled. The clouds parted to show a flash of blue sky that allowed the rays of sun to glisten off the feathers of a passing seagull. It had been there all long; Only now was I present to enjoy it.

I had forgotten how nourishing it is to take the time to meld into the natural world and just be. In those moments one easily gains perspective and inspiration. Everything becomes obvious and significant. Just hours before, it was just another day - another freeze frame of life; beautiful, but inanimate. Now, I am awake and grateful for every moment. Once again, I realize how truly blessed I am.

Adios Ninilchik

2009-05-02T07:40:00.004-08:00

I am in utter disbelief. My time here in the little cedar house near Ninilchik is at an end. I’m really not shedding any tears. I took my final walk down Rachel Road and was good with the fact that I will most likely walk down it again. This house has kept me safe and warm, and even served as a quiet retreat, but most often it was just the place I where I was passing the time.

There was plenty of peace and quiet. Yet, in some regards I feel like I have wasted a portion of my life being held captive with little to do but become absorbed in satellite T.V. It was never my intention, but that is how it worked out. I had hoped to write more, but didn’t. I wanted to exercise often, but didn’t. While I was safe and warm, it was never home.

For the last six years prior to this year, I have read a book called, “Bud, Not Buddy” to my class. Through out the book, Bud explores a hypothesis told to him by his mother; “When one door closes, another one opens.” Closing this door will only be sad because I will one step closer to the end of my adventure. The next month will be but a corridor to the trip home. A time to reflect, tie-up loose ends, and come to terms with leaving the life and people I leave behind. This will be the hardest part of the entire adventure; saying good-bye.

But like Cat Steven’s door analogy says. “Life is like a maze of doors and they all open from the side you’re on. Keeping on pushing hard boy you'll find, You're going to wind up where you started from, You’re going to wind up where you started from.” Before I know it I will return to where I started from; I will be going back “home” to Wisconsin.

I have this final month before I leave this grand experience behind and start the long ride back. I am ready. The challenge will be to make the most of it. There are things are still a few things I need to accomplish before I leave. As quickly as time flies, I plan to make the best of it.

That Poor Wall

2009-04-24T22:34:00.004-08:00

Boogers are not a topic for polite discussion. Like many otherwise discrete functions common to man, discussions tend to get brought up and often result in a chuckle. You hear colorful stories on prime time, read about some embarrassing moments on Facebook, or even fall partake in lively conversation about them with family or friends. We can it gross and pretend we are above such tasteless chatter, but truth be known, these natural processes of life never cease to amuse us.

Case in point: My three year old granddaughter and I were stretched out on her bed reading one of her favorite stories before bedtime. I looked over and noticed that Auden was preoccupied with her index finger stuck up her nose. Being the grandma I am, I couldn’t help but ask what she planned to do with her finger after she got what she was digging for. The little darling lowered her head, turned towards the wall and looked back at me with those bring brown eyes . . . and pointed.

I am not sure why I considered this particular funny. Had I actually seen the aftermath, I am sure I would not have been very humorous. It might have been her honesty, or even her comical way of silently communicating her intentions. One thing is for sure. I am going to remember this ‘booger story’ so I can pass it on when she is old enough to really to be as amused as I am.

Headed for a Messy Breakup

2009-04-18T12:31:00.002-08:00

It was bound to happen. In many ways, I have been thinking of nothing else. For too long, things have been the same day in and day out. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, a change is on the horizon. I know it is going to be a dirty affair, and mud is going to fly. But, when all is said and done, it will be worth it all. I am taking about “breakup’. That Alaskan term that refers to the melting of all that is winter.

We have the same phenomenon in Wisconsin, and I imagine there is technically a ‘breakup” anywhere winter makes way to spring. Perhaps it a little more dramatic in Alaska because everyone is so sick of winter they will are brought the edge of a mental 'breakup'. What seems to be the most difficult thing to deal with is that the days are 15 hours long, but that is irrelevant because there is still two feet of snow an on the grown. If that doesn’t drive you crazy nothing will.

So, as I hear news of 58 degree temperatures and green grass, I get a little impatient. More than ever, I wish I were home playing in the dirt of my garden and soaking up the warmth of sun rays that actually have some heat in them. Break up will do me a world of good. It’s bound to happen. In many ways, I have been thinking of nothing else.

Ribbon of Darkness

2009-04-15T12:54:00.007-08:00

That was definitely a rumble. Reluctantly I forced my eyes open. to get some idea of the time. The big trucks that drove full speed past Sarah’s never seem to worry about the time. I knew it was early because the sun had already started to lighten up the sky. But as the days were being to get longer, morning started happening around 6:30 now. Since Jesse and Sarah were away on a little Anchorage get away, I would need to take advantage of any quiet time I could get. I could fit in a couple more winks and still have a few minutes to myself before the kids woke up.

The next rumble really got my attention. This was no truck; it was thunder. I spring out of bed and race across the upstairs to look out Sarah’s window. As soon as I gazed out I knew. Redoubt had blown again. This time it was no little affair. The noise I heard was the thunder that accompanied the lighting that streaked across the immense black cloud of darkness headed directly over the house. I knew we were in for some major ash. What happened over the next few hours was an education as slowly the sky over us grew darker and darker. The beautiful slivers of blue sky on either sided of us grew smaller and smaller, until at last I gazed out a total blackout. Had it not been for the porch light, I would have missed the sight of ash falling like a steady rain; covering everything in ¼ inch of ash. By this time the kids were wake and feed. The ash fallout had passed but not without leaving everything an eerie gray. Then the wind picked up. For the rest of the day, the caustic gray particles blew off the trees and ate through the snow as they absorbed the warm rays of the sun. The result was jagged crystals of gray ice. By midmorning, I was amazed to see cars and trucks boldly kick up huge clouds of ash dust as they flew down the road. Fearless or foolish; I am not sure which. There was nothing to do but wait for the dust to settle. We managed to make the best of it. We stayed inside made cookies and jumped off Momma’s bed into a 2 foot high cloud of pillows. It would take a few more days before the ash stropped blowing around, and only snow or rain would make thing less dismal to look at outside. The only thing left was lingering ash and the memory of the ribbon of darkness.

Redoubt Pictures

2009-04-03T23:30:00.004-08:00

Many of our friends have asked us to post pictures of the Redoubt eruptions. Most of the time, we have miss the actual eruptions and often the mountain aren't visible because of cloudy conditions. The following is a link to the Alaska Volcano Observatory image site. People from all over the area along with the scientist themselves have posted pictures of Redoubt. This includes some satellite pictures and even some of a lightening storm (page 4) during a nighttime eruption. Take some time to check it out. They are amazing.

Experiencing Ashfall

2009-04-03T21:37:00.005-08:00

Many of our friends have wondered how were are lately, especially in light of the many Mount Redoubt eruptions. Yes, after months of false alarms, the AVO (Alaskan Volcano Observatory), finally turned the alert from orange to yellow. Two days later, Redoubt decided to break its own record by blowing a ash cloud that stretched over 65,000 ft. The it keep it up for a couple weeks, some days blowing several times. So far, there have been 18 significant events and many more minor ones. Through it all, we really lucked out thanks to favorable winds (good for us, bad for someone else). Only once did we get hit pretty good. At 9:30 or so, the principal came around to tell use that Redoubt had blown the highest plume yet. Being that the ashfall was predicted to come from the south and most likely would hit our school until after 4:00, they were not planning to cancel school. I had some after school plans to facilitate a training in Soldotna. It seemed that if they were going to continue school, I probably didn't have to worry about making the trip. It is about 64 miles round trip from house. That was until 2:00 rolled around. Once again, my principal, Bob made the rounds to tell me that the ashfall was predicted to hit pretty hard from Homer to Clam Gulch. Knowing I live in Ninilchik which is between Homer and Clam Gulch, he thought I might want to take off early. Okay, so now I was starting to worry. Should I cancel the training??? I called Rick only to find out it was starting to get dark and he was completely out of medication. It looked like I was heading to Soldotna anyway. I canceled the training, but I still needed to get the medication. Drats! With Bob's blessing, I took off early and hit the road to get Rick's meds. The sky wasn't looking too bad to the north. I zipped to town and went to the pharmacy and wasted no time. To the south the skies were not very comforting. Though I didn't want to take the time to stop for pictures, I did take a couple as I was on the road. They really don't do what I saw justice. The clouds were swirled as if stirred by some cosmic spoon. I was mesmerized. This was the second most fantastic sky I have ever seen; the first being the Siren Tornado. The closer I go to home the few signs of life were seen. Still, I drove on. The dark skies were sending clouds of fine ash to the ground. If I didn't know what it was, I would have thought it was mist. But this was different; it was VOG. One a couple minutes later, I pulled in the yard. I could see by the contrast of the snow caused by the tire tracks, that the dust had already coated everything in sight. I slapped on my mask, and scurried to the house. Moments later the skies were even darker, and the ashfall reached a climax. The worst was over. The next morning, we woke to find I had a flat tire. It didn't have anything to do with the ash, but I am sure glad it didn't go flat while I was on the road. As I stood looking at my flat tire, the lady I carpool with on Fridays drove in. It was my turn to drive. Since I had a flat tire, we traded weeks. Not only did this mean I didn't have to subject my car to the ash, but Rick both washed off the ash and fixed the tire. Even in the midst of volcanic ashfall, all's well that ends well. Blessed again. Thanks GOD!

All's Well on the KP

2009-03-14T15:43:00.001-08:00

This update is admittedly long over due. It seems like I’ve only had this writer’s block for a couple weeks. With the help of a few motivational tongue lashings from several loyal readers, I am determined to pound something out. With any luck at all I can do like ‘Seinfeld’ and entertain you with a lot of nothing much.

The biggest new is about our little volcanoes watch. While the volcano alert has been reduced to a watch, and there continues to be diminished, yet measurable seismic activity. The possibility of Mount Redoubt blowing its top is now in doubt. Yes, the once imminent eruption has phased out from hours to days to months and now, most likely not at all. Even the school district has let down their watchful guard. We recently got word we could discontinue the ritualistic nightly wrapping of all our classroom computers and electronics in protective plastic bags. I won’t miss that to be sure, but I must confess the hoopla brought a little excitement to what has become a long and uneventful couple of months.

We’ve been here over nine months now, and life in Alaska has gradually just become life. The biggest differences are that the sights on the morning and evening commutes. The morning drive requires keeping a careful eye out for moose instead of the whitetail deer I am most familiar with. I’ve hit my share of deer before, but I really don’t want to take on a moose. Unlike most whitetail, moose aren’t too concerned about sharing the road with anyone. If they want to cross, they will; and they will take their own sweet time of it, too.

In the evening, on clear days, I am blessed with the mountains and Cook Inlet. I love Wisconsin, but there is something to be said for the mountains. Every day is different. The strangest thing is how the mountains seem to move from day to day. One day, lay off in the distance as a grand edging for the inlet. Other days, the mountains look as if they are encroaching onto the bluffs. It seems as if they can double in size. If I hit the sunset right, the mountains keep the intensity of evening hues hanging in sky as if they are one and the same.

Some days are not so clear, and the roads are ice. One those days, I entertain myself by counting how many cars are in the ditch. Again, maybe it’s a Wisconsin thing, but there is something about slowing down that just makes sense. I got an email today that perhaps explains this phenomenon. It had to do with winter statistics. Evidently, 98% of the people that go in the ditch yell out “Oh SH$^^”. The other 2% are from Alaska. The yell, “Hold my beer, I want to try something”. The ditches seem to be full of them. What’s more, the same vehicle will stay in the ditch for weeks on end. I guess like the moose, they find no real need to hurry and get off the road.

So, while the days are getting longer, the end of winter is still a long ways off. Now that the volcanoes adventure is simmering down, the highlight of our week is usually a visit with Sarah, Jesse, and the kids or a road trip to Soldotna to buy supplies. I’ve come to the conclusion that this phase of the adventure is dealing with the fact that there is no real adventure at all. All in all, that’s good enough for me.

The Snow is Still White

2009-01-29T08:00:00.003-09:00

So what goes with earthquakes? A volcanic eruption of course! The warning was issued Sunday. Yes, the beautiful Mount Redoubt (or should I say Redoubt Volcano) began to sputter a little more seismic activity ever since the earthquake. You remember Redoubt. It is the mountain about 40 miles directly across the Cook Inlet from where I live. We are on a code orange, and the new reports and papers say it is not a matter of "if', but "when". The last eruption was in 1989, so it sounds like it is due. Just another segment of our Alaskan Adventure. Because we are across the inlet, there isn't any danger from magma, but the threat of fallout is the main concern. This doesn't seem affect many people around here. Most people are just taking the standard precautions by making sure they have water, masks, googles, and air filters for their cars. At school, we were issued garbage bags for covering any thing electronic and give reminders of things we should be aware in case we are still at school. I also got the link to the Alaska Volcano Observation site where one can go to keep posted. So far, so good. The snow is still white. Updates to follow.

Ripples in the Bathtub

2009-01-26T08:05:00.002-09:00

It had all the makings of an uneventful, relaxed Saturday. I allowed myself the luxury of staying in bed to almost 8:00 before getting up to share a cup of coffee with Rick to plan our day. We had the whole day to do whatever we wanted. Unlike most Saturdays, we had no where go and nothing pressing to do. The plan was to treat myself to a hot bath before we went out to breakfast at Kasilof Mercantile on our way to Soldotna. Sunday was Auden’s birthday party, and we still needed to do a little shopping. About 9:00, I decided to start getting the show on the road. Unlike my spacious bathroom in Wisconsin, our bathroom in Ninilchik is pretty small, which usually prompted me to just jump in and out of the shower as quickly as possible. In the spirit of rest and relaxation, I chose to take a good long soak. All of the sudden I had this strange sensation. It felt as if I were in an RV that was being rocked around by some a mighty strong wind. Trying to make some sense of it, I thought maybe I was just lightheaded from the hot water. I had been swirling the water to distribute the hot water evenly, maybe I was just caught up in the waves. Then it crossed my mind that it might be an earthquake. The Kenai Peninsula is in the Ring of Fire, and I’ve been told there are weekly occurrences of undetectable seismic activity; that could be a possibility. It was so mild and brief that it didn’t seem likely, but I decided to let the water settle to see if I could see any vibrations in the water. Whatever it was, it was over now. I crawled out of the tub just as I hear my phone ring with a text message. Jesse was texting to see if we had felt the earthquake. I called him back, and he told me that they were in bed when they felt the tremor. It evidently was stronger at their house and was enough to cause a noticeable vibration in things in their bedroom. All were safe and sound. It was a surprise to Rick, he never noticed a thing. It wasn’t long and we were heading for Soldotna. We visited the mail carrier. She had been driving and hadn’t noticed the quake but heard about it on the radio. I turned on the radio and the reports were that the earthquake registered a 5.7-6.3. There was no known damage, mainly because the epicenter was determined to be of shore, over 60 miles west of Homer (about 100 miles from Ninilchik), and no tsunami warnings were issued. The earthquake had been felt as far as Anchorage, over 200 miles from the epicenter. I over heard one lady mentioned it was the strongest one she had experienced since she lived here. Earthquakes here in Alaska are inevitable. You can’t live this close to mountains and volcanoes strategically placed on the Ring of Fire and not have earthquakes. The reality of situation was brought to my attention at school after a three hour inservice that dealt with nothing but earthquake and volcano disaster training. After being assigned to be in charge of the morgue and seeing many photos taken after the earthquake of ’64, I knew it was one disaster I didn’t want to encounter. Yet, I must admit I was hoping to have a little seismic experience. This ten-second event was all I needed to shake up an otherwise uneventful, relaxing Saturday.

Mini Vacation to Anchorage

2009-01-18T08:33:00.016-09:00

One of the highlights of this winter break was a mini-vacation to Anchorage. Being the largest city in Alaska, we had hoped to find a few things to do. Originally, we had thought we might venture up to Fairbanks in hopes of catching some Aurora Borealis. After a little research and weather report promising temperature of -50, we decided it was a long way to go (8 hours) to freeze and find not much to do. Anchorage was a good alternative.

We left from Karen and Jon Cress’s house where we spent Christmas night after a great meal and our first significant snow storm. They live in the rural Nikiski, which is about 50-60 miles north of Ninilchik. The snow was a blessing in a couple ways. It not only gave us a good reason to spend more time with the Cress clan, but by spending the night, we knocked off 120 miles of time and travel had we gone back to Ninilchik that night. The beauty of the snow was the second blessing. Our three hour drive was brightened by the reflecting sun off the clean white snow. Once we came to mountains at Turnagain, the picture was complete.

It is difficult to describe the Turnagain. Imagine a range of rounded mountains nestled in on two sides of a narrow inlet that stretches for miles and miles. In warmer weather, a variety of wildlife is on hand. On a previous trip, we have seen sea otters, beluga, seals, and a wide assortment of birds. Now, after weeks of cold weather, the waters have been transformed into jagged rivers of floating ice that shifts with the changing of each tide. This miraculous sight is one that creates the legend of Alaska as paradise.

By the time we arrived in Anchorage the sun was beginning to go down. It was about 3:30, so we decided to check into the Sheraton Hotel. If it would have been summer, the rates would have detoured us from even entertaining the idea of staying here.

Thanks to Priceline and winter, we found ourselves in a cozy room at an unbelievably modest price. We hung out there planning our activities for the next couple days before scouting out the town and grabbing something to eat.

We spent the next two days checking out some shops, touring a couple museums, and going to the movie. Like most larger cities, there were plenty of places to eat and lots of stores to spend

money. One of the things we had hoped to see were ice sculptures in Town Square. Unfortunately, we were only a couple half completed pieces that made our desire to brave the fridge cold fade. Perhaps the cold discouraged the sculptors as well.

Perhaps the most exciting part of the trip included a little communication exchange between Rick and an irritable elk buck. On the way home, we stopped at a wildlife conservatory that consisted of a variety of animals that had been rescued and placed in fenced in areas for visitor to experience them close up.

Eager to get some close up shots with his new camera, Rick was determined to get pictures by holding the camera inside the fence. Feeling confident that the animals had adapted to all the human attention, he had no apprehension about getting up there. He had a few close up words with a bison and moose and was certain they actually enjoyed the conversation. The elk was another story.

I could tell that the buck had a bit of an attitude the minute we stopped by the way he started sparring with a pile of branches. While Rick was trudging through knee high snow toward the fence, I watched as the massive elk demonstrated his skill using his three to four foot antlers with precision accuracy. He had his eye on Rick and was sending out a little message himself. How Rick misinterpreted the grunting, foot stamping, and head bobbing as play I don’t know!

Just as I shouted a warning to Rick, (who was busy clicking away), the buck had decided to clarify his intentions. The elk leaped forward lowering his head and those huge antlers to within inches of Rick’s hands. The message was finally received, and Rick began trying to back up. With his feet unable to lift from the deep snow, the buck believing Rick needed some more prompting took a couple more swings at him.

Finally, Rick made his way back to plowed ground where a group of other onlookers were snapping pictures. Within minutes the buck decided he needed to share his attitude with the others as well. Luckily, Rick was able to warn a couple other bold gentlemen photographers just before the buck taught them the lesson himself. The moral of the story: Fence or no fence, wild animals are wild animals.

With the excitement behind us, we continued on to enjoy our drive home. The skies were clear, the snow glistened, and the sun danced on the horizon outlining the mountains as they stood witness to the wonder of creation. Experiences like this are worth all the time and money and are the frosting on the cake of any mini-vacation. Such is another beautiful day in Alaska.

China Poot By Rick Day

2009-01-10T14:23:00.020-09:00

“Do you want to go with Sarah and me to China Poot and dipnet salmon?” That was the beginning. Jess, my son-in-law, asked me that question one day in August. “Well, Okay.” I got in the truck and traveled to Homer, which is at the very end of the road on the Kenai Peninsula. What a beautiful place! It’s a harbor town with a lot of very large boats and the famous Homer Spit.

We had a 16’ Alumicraft with a motor. It looked pretty big to me until we started out from the port and entered the big water and suddenly everything started getting smaller and smaller. The water was nice and calm, and we soaked up the bright sunny day on the 19 mile ride across the Kachemak Bay. It /was nice to be out there with my daughter and son-in-law.

We got closer to the south end of the bay and the notice the spectacular scenery. We were greeted by hundreds of birds and other sea life along the gigantic bluffs. Sea lions were floating around and puffins, eagles, and all the other birds along the coast reminded me of Jurassic Park.

China Poot is a river that comes out from the Kenai Mountains and flows into the Kachemak Bay. At the mouth, the aqua blue glacial water was very clear and still. We piloted the boat up the channel, and it got narrower and narrower, and we had to beach the boat. Jesse was, of course, off and running with the huge dip net in hand. He and the six foot pole and 40 inch diameter net were climbing the hill (mountain). Sarah and I were still thinking about getting out of the boat and wading to the shore.

“Jesse” yelled Sarah, “Wait!”

His first response was “Just follow the path”. He didn’t leave us there to go it alone; he helped us out and got us started.

The banks of the river were huge boulders that stood straight up. We started down ‘the path’ that was only about 18” wide. It ran along side of the river. About a half of a mile in, the once calm river started getting more and more violent. All the water from the melting mountain was coming down and flowing into the bay. We went up and up the side hills along this little path. It seemed like nobody thought I was going to make it, but the adventurer in me thought I knew I was okay.

By now the banks were really steep and there wasn’t any thing to grab on to that didn’t have sharp needle like pickers on them. The plant, I think they call “Devil’s Claw” was every where. Whatever it was, it made the trip even more challenging. We were up then down; climbing then sliding. Jesse didn’t seem to have much trouble climbing up the slopes, but on the other hand, his legs are much longer than Sarah and mine. We don’t have mountain climbing legs, but our short stubby legs would do real well on flat ground in a storm.

Finally, we came to this steep place that was down straight about ten to twelve feet. At the bottom was a ledge about a foot wide.. We were suppose to shimmy down and hopefully hit this skinny little ledge that ran along the river, which by this time was time was a fast roaring, full blown rapids. Sarah and I looked at each other and silently wondered how this was going to happen. Though we were worried, we weren’t going to let Jesse know that as he stood at the bottom encouraging us by saying, “Come on, just slide down and I will catch you.”

I assessed the situation: I was supposed to slide this 250 pound body down the bank and to Jesse, who was standing on this narrow ledge, catch me . . . send Sarah first! I used the old “Ladies first”. I tell you, this was really starting to make me nervous. So, slowly we edged our way down the bank. Sarah made it. With Sarah in front of me and Jess back too far to help (as if he could anyway), it was my turn. I made my move and before I knew it I was down. It wasn’t a bad as it looked.

We scooted along this ledge like jumpers on a skyscraper, holding on to the rocks until we finally reached the other side. Jesse patiently waited for Sarah and me to reach the other side. I can just imagine how all our laughing and yelling must have sounded. When we got to the other side, we realized, we now had to go back up the very steep hill before up. This time there was nothing to grab onto to pull ourselves up; not even Devil’s Club. There were no foot holds and those that were there were really along way apart.

Between these short legs and no upper body strength, this was going to be fun. I wasn’t the only one. Sarah was having a little bit of a hard time, so I braced to be the pusher while Jesse stood above pulling, laughing and yelling the whole time. Pushing, then sliding, then pushing again until we got the job done. There was no one behind me to do any pushing, so Jesse found me a walking stick about five foot long and used it to pull me up.

We found ourselves on a somewhat level path. It was up and down again. After that the trip was a bit calmer. There seemed to be a lot of roots to go over and under. By this time Jesse saw that it was going to be okay for Sarah and me, so he took off up the trail with net in hand. Sarah and I took our time and made it to the steep long down hill climb to the waterfall where Jesse was attempting to dip for Red Salmon.

At last, we came to the edge of the embankment and were in desperate need of a few minutes to kick back and catch our breath. I looked up and saw Jess coming up the hill. The first words out of his mouth were, “There’s nothing here; we have to go back.”

Sarah and I looked at each other and then at Jesse and simultaneously shouted “WHAT! We just got here.” One look at us must have been enough to convince him to stop and relax for awhile. We settled down for a few minutes and enjoyed the scenery. It was so amazing. It kind of looked like a place in Africa, only this was tropical Alaska.

After photo shoots and a little conversation we started on the return journey. The trek out was just as bad as the trek in only in reverse. Once safe inside the boat, we broke out our Subway sandwiches and headed out across the bay. I sat point and Sarah was in the middle each enjoying the ride.

All of the sudden, things started to change, and it started getting more and more bumpy. Water was splashing around, and it was kind of fun. Every time I tried to take a bite of my sandwich, I missed my mouth. We were laughing so hard until we realized it was getting bumpier and bumpier.

The boat I thought was pretty big was now getting lifted up and slammed down. HARD! The water became more and more hostile. I looked at Sarah and she wasn’t laughing anymore. BAM! BAM! The boat bounced up and down hitting the water hard. I looked at Jess and said “What the hell is going on? Slow down!” I looked harder and notice Jesse wasn’t smiling anymore either.

By this time, my sub was pretty much all over my face. Sarah looked very worried and tensioned filled the air. We were still ten miles out in the middle of the bay and not one boat anywhere in sight. My glasses were useless, so I took them off, threw my sub down, and tried to hang on. It was rough. I believe Jesse was looking for somewhere to go, but there was nothing but water in every direction.

At one point, Sarah turned to look at me with worried eyes, she look a little harder then exclaimed, “Dad, you have lettuce all over your face.” Instinctively, I release my death hold and started to wipe off my face. Then it dawned on me as I grabbed hold one more time and shouted, “So what, I am going to die!”

By now, my stomach was very nervous and panic was in the air. For the next ten minutes we kept heading for Homer Spit. Jesse had to slow us down to a crawl to keep us from tipping. Then all of the sudden, it got better. Everything started to smooth out, and the wind wasn’t quite as strong. Just like that – smooth sailing. We were all soaking wet, cold, and fried from the whole range of emotions, but very thankful that it seemed better.

Gratefully, we reached the harbor and went back to the marina. After all the activity and the cool and wet ride home, I had a hard time getting out of the boat. My leg just didn’t want to work. As Sarah and I stood waiting to load the boat, both freezing on that August night in Alaska, I was grateful for that China Poot adventure. It was really a great trip. Would I do it again? Yeah. - Except for the ebb tide and tsunami. It was just another day in the life and times of Rick Day.

The Best Things of Christmas

2009-01-02T12:54:00.006-09:00

There is something about little ones that make Christmas really come alive. It doesn’t matter if we are shopping for presents for Momma and Daddy, cutting out sugar cookies, or making ornaments for our Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Having the babes around makes it all the more magical. Rick and I took advantage of being able to spend time with Auden and Brahm. A couple weeks before Christmas, the four of us spent a weekend together while Sarah and Jesse went on a shopping trip to Anchorage. We did a little shopping ourselves. I remember taking my own little kids into a store at Christmas as a bit of a challenge. Shopping with grandkids is different, it was fun. Of course they wanted everything they could see, and they eyed up everything. Though they still haven’t developed the concept of shopping for someone else, it was interesting to observe their thought processes; something I never made an effort to take pleasure in with my own. Now as Grammy, it really didn’t matter what we ended up with as long as we had fun getting there. Making cookies was always about having fun with the kids. Lord knows I would never take the time to roll out and cut those cookies just for the heck of it. Cutout sugar cookies are always a labor of love. I was most impressed with Auden’s resilience to the task. She worked with me every step of the way, and never once did we have a conflict. She loves to learn, especially when it involves cookie dough. (I wonder if she gets that from me or if the love of cookie dough is one of those universal delights) We had our own cute little Christmas tree this year. Auden and I spent several visits making decorations for it. Finally the weekend before Christmas, she and Grampy hiked out to the front yard and selected our tree. Auden insisted she carry it into the house, where we placed it into our homemade stand and decorated it with the ornaments we had made. The end result was a joy. We even shared it with our landlord on Christmas Eve. Being that we were going to spend the night with the Cress family, Rick brought the tree, some treats, and a couple presents over to Ray’s house while he was gone. It was a great gift, the first Christmas tree he had in many years. Ho, Ho, Ho. Christmas Eve was spent devouring hor ‘devours and visiting with a small group of Sarah and Jesse’s friends. I of course had the most fun frequenting the deck with Auden to check the skies for any sign of Santa. My ears are old, but Auden could hear the bells, and her excitement unleashed the some of my most joyous memories of Christmas past that were filled with eager anticipation and wonder. Before long, we were privy to the dictation of the letter to Santa and the traditional setting out of cookies. Then it was off to find those sugar plums. Brahm loves dancing sugar plums even when it isn’t Christmas Eve. The next hour or so was spent as an elf doing that last minute wrapping. The good news was that I didn’t have to wait up for Santa and was free to go check out some of those sugar plums myself. Christmas morning came soon enough and we were at hand to share in the festivities and the most magical thing of all. Those half-asleep babes stood at the foot the tree that was somehow transformed by the avalanche brightly colored packages. As the colored lights reflected off their sleepy eyes, I saw they were totally dazed and amazed by all the presents set before them. There were so many, they literally had to be prodded to continue opening them. Little did they know, that standing among all these gifts, they were the most wondrous gifts of all!

A Cyber Adventure

2008-12-12T07:40:00.002-09:00

Recently, I was emailed the following piece entitled, Law of the Garbage Truck. The reason I liked so much is because it is true. There are people who fit the description of being like a garbage truck. I wish I could say they come and go periodically in our lives, but the truth of the matter is that many of us face getting dumped on regularly. For some it is at work, for others it is at home, and for some it may be both. I would be amiss if I didn’t admit that I too have passed around my share of trash. That doesn’t fit into the person I want to be. So I had decided to keep the concept fresh in my mind and to share the “The Law . . . with my friends and family. Not knowing the author, I cited ‘author unknown’ and posted it and began writing the previous paragraph about learning how to detach from the ‘dumpers’ in our life. That is when a little cyber adventure began to unfold. My sister, Janis, that faithful blog reader, gave me a heads up about a comment that was written in connection with “The Law of the Garbage Truck”. The comment from Chris, (read it by clicking on the comments under the posting), an associate of David J. Pollay, the author, graciously gave me David’s name and the link to his blog. I immediately emailed Chris to thank him for identifying the author and offered to remove that piece if need be. Later, I received a reply that stated I could keep the post and informed my blog would be mentioned in tomorrow’s blog. Interesting! I guess I never thought my little blog would really be read by anyone outside my circle of blog followers. Maybe the circle is growing. I can only hope that someday I can write something as enlightening as “The Law of the Garbage Truck”. Until then, I hope David is encouraged to know that his work continues to encourage people. Just like the garbage in his story, it is being passed around; only this is good stuff, and it is exciting to see. I can live with dumping this kind of stuff.

Law of the Garbage Truck

2008-12-07T08:09:00.009-09:00

~Author: David J. Pollay (see the comment below) One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy; and I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.' He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so...... 'Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't.' Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it.

It's a Plan

2008-12-06T21:37:00.003-09:00

Here I am. It is 5 o’clock on a Friday morning, and after several days of false starts, I did it. I am awake and up. I knew that I wanted to start getting up earlier, and I actually did wake up a couple mornings before this. After I managed to drag myself from the comfort of my warm bed, I was lost. I knew I wanted to do some writing, some stretching, and have some time to spend with God. Somehow, at 5 o’clock, when the room is chilly and dark, I couldn’t figure out where to start. So, of course, I just went back to bed. It was another perfect example of instant pleasure and pain avoidance. What helped me turn the corner? By some divine intervention, I found the answer just when I needed it. I opened the book I had been reading called Awakening the Giant by Tony Robbins. Right then it had the morning jumpstart I needed. Tony came up with some questions which he asks himself every morning. He calls them the Morning Power Questions. Right then and there, I knew this is where I needed to start. So with a plan at hand, I greeted this morning. A little time to meditate and sip some tea; a little time to journal; time to stretch’ and shower; and time write. This is all part of the plan; my five year plan. The greatest gift I can give myself is self-discipline. I know that if I can sacrifice one of my favorite indulgences, sleep, I will be empowering myself to climb that metaphorical mountain of becoming the person I want to be. Today, I have found my way through a long-standing barrier on my ascent to greater realized potential. Getting up early may seem like a small feat for some. For me, this morning was a significant trek at the foot of the mountain; merely the beginning. The good news is; I have a plan.

Our Alaskan Home

2008-11-30T12:23:00.019-09:00

Life seems to be compiled of a mosaic of mini-experiences and explorations. Sometimes I take for granted that these might even be remotely interesting to anyone. With the combination of writer’s block and the need to appease my known faith readers, Janis and Sarah, I decided to write about some of the simple things that make up our life.

Ninilchik

We have come too really like the little town of Ninilchik. I haven’t actually done any historic research yet, but I do know that it was originally a Russian settlement. Today’s descendents can still be found in the small Russian village at the mouth of the Ninilchik River. Overlooking the village is a unique little Russian Orthodox Chuch which sits majestically on a bluff above the village.

The scenery from Ninilchik is nothing less than spectacular. I personally consider it second only to Homer. Granted, I haven’t been many places in Alaska yet, but I can’t imagine it gets much better. Facing west and set high on the tall bluffs surrounding the Cook Inlet, the panoramic view consists of achain of mountains and picturesque sunsets reflecting off the water. I’ve only ever seen such beautiful sights in magazines.

The business district itself looks pretty lame by appearances. Its hosts many fishing charters closed in the winter, a store, a couple half-hearted cafes, a library, a gas station, a community clinic, and a post office. Recently we came across a real treasure. Thanks to a grant by the local tribe, we joined the Ninilchik Wellness Center last week. I had heard about it a month or two ago, but based on my impression of the town, I was sure it would be pretty lame as well. I was so wrong. The center is fully supplied with all kinds of exercise equipment, including cardio, weightlifting, boxing, and yoga equipment. ALL FREE! I like it!

Ninilchik School is also found there. From what I hear, it is not somewhere I want to work or have my grandchild attend school, but it does sport another jewel; a swimming pool. Although we haven’t used it yet, the plan is for Rick to go with Sarah and the kids for a preschool session on Wednesday. That should be right up his alley.

Rick has also become active in the meeting in Ninilchik. He heads there on Tuesdays and Thursdays and really seems to appreciate going. Later today we plan on going to a pre-Thanksgiving Dinner. I can hardly wait.

I am sure that the more we hang around, the more we will find to do in this sleepy little town. It’s only six miles from our house and has the cheapest gas on the peninsula. In that regard, it is one of the many parallels I have observed in comparing it to life in Wisconsin and the six miles to Hertel, another sleepy little town.

Our Alaskan Home

What’s it like where I live? The description in short would be cool, (we miss the wood heat), but comfortable. We really like the location because it is only 18 miles from my work, (just like in Wisconsin), and about 26 miles from SJAB’s (Sarah, Jesse, Auden, and Brahm). One of the most awesome things about the location is that we can walk less than a block and up the hill on a four wheeler trail to get an awesome view of Mount Redoubt and the Cook Inlet. It is breath-taking each time I see it, and it never looks quite the same.

Settled only about a block off the main road, among the black spruce on Rachel Road, (Rick always loved the name Rachel), is the three bedroom house owned by Ray Frank. The exterior of the house consists of a bright yellow door and a siding combination of two sides of cedar; two sides tar paper. In all fairness, tar paper and/or Tyvek is a common decor for housing here, so having the cedar on two-sides brings is rather nice.

Our landlord, Ray is probably one of the nicest people I have ever met. Having him around has been instrumental in giving Rick something to do. The seventy-four year old bachelor lives only several yards away in the small house he and Rick have been slowly remodeling from a workshop into living quarters. I’ll write more on Ray in another posting.

The two steps to the house lead to that bright yellow door that opens to a simple but cozy house. The kitchen and living room area are well-lit (when there is sun) and well furnished. We recently made the addition of satellite TV to help Rick maintain some sanity. The rest of the house is unremarkable. It is nothing special but does serves the purpose. We basically use only one bedroom. Another is used for storage and crafts, and the third is what Auden refers to as her room. The bathroom is small, but it is big enough to meet our needs. The water is hot, and the shower head Rick got at the thrift store is used a couple times a day to replace Rick’s therapeutic hot tub. It’s not quite the same, but seems to do the job.

Though we can see neighbors in three directions, there are tree situated in such away that it is easy to feel that we are in the middle of the woods. The view from our bedroom, where I do most of my writing, is the best. All that can be seen is the moderately wooded backyard. From this point of view, it is easy to imagine that our Alaskan home is in some more remote location. That is, if it weren’t for the sounds of the drilling.

Yes, it’s hard to believe that less than a couple miles away is a drilling rig. It’s not for oil, but for natural gas. The rig seemed to go up overnight, and the low hum can be heard beginning around five in the morning and ending about eleven at night. It is not loud, nor annoying, just ever present. It is a sight to see, especially at night when it is lit up like a Christmas tree illuminating itself to protect any marine and air traffic. Drilling is a big part of Alaska. The majority of Alaskans have sing the mantra, “Drill, baby drill.” This too is another topic for future postings.

All in all, it is a blessing to have found this place. Not only because it affordable with Rick bartering work for some of the housing cost, but because there is so little stress. It’s small and we don’t have a lot of stuff. There is basically little upkeep and no chores putting pressure on our time. We find there are two sides to that coin, I have to admit I am enjoying being lazy, but it is easy to get bored, as well. That when I need to be reminded that it was all part of the plan. We wanted time to write, work on getting healthier, read, and see the kids when we can. This little place on Rachel Road gives us the opportunity to do just that. Who could ask for more?

The Alaskan Adventure Takes a Paradigm Shift

2008-11-25T15:08:00.000-09:00

It is official; my Alaskan adventure has evolved into my life in Alaska. After the only a few short months, we have manage to settle into a rut very similar to the one we left behind in Wisconsin. The names and places have changed, but the monotony feels the same. I think it has something to do with having to go to work. Everyone is familiar with the scenario. Get up, get dressed, get fed, go, do the job, go home, get fed, hang out, do what needs to be done, (which isn’t much), go to bed, and start it all over the next day. This realization would be a little depressing if it weren’t for the fact that I knew that experiencing life in Alaska was only the external part of my journey, and that is not entirely over. We continue to go on little outing and usually spend at least a little time every weekend with the kids. Yet, the biggest challenges are those that lay ahead. They will be the most difficult because the treacherous terrain is internal, and the biggest obstacle is me. Those people that know me well have heard me muse about my five year plan. When I am successful at executing this plan, I will have emerged with sound spirituality and balance, greater health and fitness, stronger self-control and discipline, a couple books, and a clear vision of what I want to do and who I want to be. Laughingly, I have stated the fact that I have pissed away the first three years of the plan, and year four will soon come to a close. While the only real obvious changes seem to be my geographical location, I know that I have been preparing for what my friend, Lori Allard, refers to as the “Year of Jubilee.” So, I dedicate the majority of my time and energy to both the external and internals. I am not sure whether my future personal explorations are blog material, much less of interest to anyone reading it. I am willing to share both if there is an interest; because I know I am not alone on this journey of self-realization. I also know the only people that are probably reading this are people that care, and I always value their input. So, would people like to hear about this aspect of the adventure? You’ll have to let me know.

Rick's Waterloo

2008-11-02T16:23:00.000-09:00

By Rick Day

9/15/08

Fishing today found what “could happen if you lose your head. I got to the sand bar at the river but it wasn’t the sand bar. It was a big bunch of loon shit, got stuck in it and the more I tried to get out the deep I got in. It was damn scary for about ten minutes. Didn’t think I was going to get out of there for a minute. Nobody around. And if the river rose, I’d never have got out. Stuck.

I remember a Tarzan movie once . . . relax and pull gently lean forward and keep pulling slowly. Well that didn’t work. I was definitely sinking in. It got up to my knees on one leg and it wasn’t pretty. Fell forward and started pulling slowly. Hands in the mud; legs in the mud and not making much progress. But I did manage to slowly pull and struggle. Got to harder ground, and then slowly got more and more free. I got loose finally, and was just shaking. Heart was pounding. Then moved on to the car. It was pouring rain the whole time. The experience was not a great one, but it was a lesson. Be careful where you step around here. It may be your last. If not in the river, you could have a bear coming around then.

Here's Aramus

2008-10-26T12:13:00.000-08:00

Born on October, Aramus Orrin made a good impression on his Aunt Sarah, especially after she introduced him to gas drops. Cousins Auden and Brahm thought he was pretty cool too.

Exit Glacier

2008-10-19T11:10:00.000-08:00

Our trip to Seward included a hike to Exit Glacier and was a highlight of our little mini-vacation. The skies were dark gray and the air had a whisper of winter, so our first stop was to buy some head and hand protection. Was I glad we did!

The road to the glacier was a short drive of only about 8 miles. The discussion in the Cress Expedition centered on whether we should or should make the trek given the weather conditions.We reach the consensus that we would go check it out and then decide. By the time we got there, the weather had settled enough to make us that on the adventure. Am I glad we did!

Even before we reached the parking lot, we came upon signs with dates on them. The dates were the historical markings of the location of the glacier. The first one was 1889 and was at least a couple miles from the parking lot. We pulled, parked, bundled up, and hit the trail.

The first thing I noticed was the earthy smell of fallen leaves.

There is something about the smell. It wasn’t long into the hike before the snow started. Along the trail were more glacier time markers. They were getting noticeably closer and closer even though the interval in years was the same. Another thing I noticed was the evidence left behind. There were moraines, boulders in strange places, and deep scratches on the mountainside were the glacier once flowed.

By the time we got to the glacier itself, we were in the midst of a mini-snow storm. While it did reduce the visibility, we were still able to stand in awe at the foot of the blue glacier. I can’t even imagine the how long that hunk of ice had been there, and out from under it all came a small stream of melted water that winded it’s way past the moraines and down the mountain.

Of course, the best part of the adventure was our

sharing it with JABS (Jesse, Auden, Brahm and Sarah).Even though the babes were too young to fully understand the significance of the glacier. They were real troopers battling the cold and snow. All in all, it was a great trip. I highly recommend it.

Historic Seward

2008-10-10T20:17:00.000-08:00

It’s 7AM on a Saturday. Rick is making good use of the Jacuzzi in our bathroom, and the rest of the gang is still snoozing in Room 231 of the Breeze Inn in Seward, Alaska. I’m not sure what the town looks like yet; we arrived last night in the dark. But, I do know some of the history from the newspaper clipping hung on the walls of the little nook on the hotel balcony. Seward is about 120 miles from our home in Ninilchik. It’s a small harbor town in the Prince William Sound, just across the bay from the infamous Valdez. (If that name doesn’t ring a bell, think Exxon oil spill.) Not only is Seward known for its access to the ocean and plentiful marine life, it plays host for tourist wanting to see the Kenai Fjords and Exit Glacier. That’s why we are here. From the framed yellow clipping, I learned that Seward was victim of the Great Earthquake of 1964. This is the biggest earthquake ever recorded in the Western Hemisphere. If that weren’t bad enough, the small harbor got hit by a double whammy when a tsunami hit the already paralyze town. Needless to say, the Seward was pretty much toast after everything was all said and done. Earthquakes, volcanoes, and tsunamis; clearly “I’m not in Kansas (or Wisconsin) anymore.” More and more, I am coming to the conclusion that these natural disasters are part of the reality here. For example, they don’t say "If an emergency happens"; they say "When". At school, each teacher was issued a huge blue tub filled with supplies and a role to be assumed in the case of an emergency. I was assigned the safety officer and morgue commander. We then spent over four hours in training the emergency procedures. This is one training I hope I never have to use. These dangers are the very things that make Alaska such a beautiful place, and Seward is one of the most perfect examples of that face. It’s easy to look at the mountains that surround Seward and stand in awe at their reflections in the pristine ocean waters. But it isn’t only the Ring of Fire and colliding plates that make this place magical. Only a few miles away are the Kenai Fjords and Exit Glacier. This is a place created just as much by the ice and water as it was by massive mounds of rock that stretch across the sky. Today we will venture out and explore Seward. I’m glad I know there is much more than meets the eye. To be continued . . .

Welcome to Aramus

2008-10-02T08:25:00.001-08:00

Aramus Orrin Day was born to Jake and Jenny early Wednesday morning, October 1st. Dad says he's a healthy, hungry, dark-haired boy weighing in at 8 lbs. 3oz and 19 3/4". Congratulations to the proud parents.

Fair Day

2008-09-25T17:17:00.001-08:00

Our first official trip to Anchorage was on August 30th to pick up Rick at the airport. Poor guy put in over time that day. The flight came in at about 11:30 Alaska Time, which was about 5 ½ hours of flight time for him. I had it a little easier. I took the 5 hour drive from the Kenai Peninsula to Anchorage with Sarah, Jesse, and the kids the night before. This was only the beginning. The plan was to go to the Alaska State Fair in Palmer. More specifically, we were going to see Charlie Daniels in concert. Good times-good times. I have come to realize what makes fairs so much fun. Yes, there’s lots of food, cool agricultural exhibits, venders of all kind, and rides. But, all of these seemed pretty mundane over my last few fair experiences. On this day, the magical element of fairs gone by finally became evident; little kids. Watching Auden and Brahm made the fair. Through their eyes, I rediscovered the wonder. Yes, something as simple as seeing a child steer her first car as it rolled along the fixed circular roadway. She took each turn as if she actually knew what see was doing. And the smiles: priceless. Brahm, who is still pretty stationary on his own, was unbelievably entertaining as he was mesmerized. He sat for hours in the backpack carrier taking in every sight and demanding a bite of every food item that came near.

Time came for us to listen to Charlie Daniels set that fiddle of his on fire. Rick and I journeyed in on our own, so we could find a comfortable seat in general seating; also known as the grassy knoll. The natural topography of the concert area couldn’t have been better if it had been planned. The steep hills sloped down to the stage making a prefect band shell. While the grassy knoll might have been some people’s first option for full concert effect, we chose the top row bleachers, stage right; complete with back support. At our age, comfort always wins out.

It was only a few minutes before the show. I spotted the clan on the other side, so I left my perch and climbed up the near vertical hill to confirm a meeting place after the concert. The trip up wasn’t anything special, but the trip down . . . Yes, I gave the crowd a show of my own. I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but before I knew it, my right leg had a mind of its own. The darn thing shot out down the hill, leaving no time for the other to follow suit. I heard a pop as I realized I was now sliding down at a 70 degree angle with ol’ lefty dragging contorted behind. I wanted to believe I took the dismounting fairly gracefully, since it was a slide and not an all out roll. Unfortunately, the snickers of onlooker made me doubt it. At this point, I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my ankle or my pride. Looking back, I must have decided it was my pride, because I shot up despite the fact that I thought there was a pretty good chance I broke my leg. At least that’s how it felt. Painfully, I hobbled to my seat and made it to the top of the bleachers just in time for Charlie to hit the stage. All I can say is, “Thank God for work boots and painkillers.” My enjoyment of the concert may have been a wash, but at least I could walk. For the record, I wasn’t the only victim of the sloping menace. We counted eight other people who succumbed to the humiliation of the hill. I have to admit it was interesting to see how others dealt with public embarrassment. If any one else strained themselves, I couldn’t tell. We left before the crowd and caught up with the clan. I waddled out with the help of Auden, who vowed, “I walk with you Grammy.” And while the droves of cars lined up to leave the fairgrounds, all I could do was to be thankful for another wonderful day. Just like being with kids makes the fair, being with family always makes it all worthwhile. I am sure the memories will linger long after the swelling leaves.

How Is It Going? . . . You Mean Really?

2008-09-12T17:09:00.000-08:00

Life isn't always a bed of roses. What an interesting saying! Who would really want to sleep in a bed of roses anyway? Sure it might smell good at first, but after awhile, the scent would certainly turn from intoxicating to just plain toxic. And how about the thorns? Nobody in their right mind would want to crawl into bed at the end of a long day with a bunch of razor stemmed flowers no matter how good they smelled. So much for that idiom. Try this one; “You made your bed, now you have to sleep in it”? That is one that is pretty easy for me to relate to right now. Since this blog is a chronicle of my little adventure, it seems only right to document some of the lows as well as the highs. Since I'm in a bit of a mood, let me share a little bit about the bed I find myself in by doing a little creative venting. While there are several things I would love to 'vent' about, I'll just blow steam related to one for now; The DayMobile. You can find the picture of our seemingly wonderful Blazer earlier in the blog. (Blazer - an appropriate name for a vehicle prone to burning its owners) This particular one turns out to be like a Batmobile. More accurately a VampireMobile. For over a month it has been draining . . . money, time, money, energy, security, money, and overall piece of mind. Jesse (my hero) has been the garlic protecting me from getting completely sucked dry. He has done everything he can do to keep it on the road. He's replaced pulleys, brakes, spark plugs, bearings, serpentine belts, and headlights. He has even given me the key to the Ford while he works on the VampMobile. Still, one little problem remains; there's no heat. So, Jesse replaced the thermostat. (Did I tell you Jesse is my hero?) Still no heat. Alas, there is only so much a guy can do. You can imagine that a heater is a pretty important thing if it's September in Alaska. SO, there was no choice but to take the VampMobile to the local house of horrors (service station). It took very little time to for the Vamp pamperer to identify the problem: the heater is dead to the core. The remedy involves squeezing out five hundred units of blood from our remaining turnips. That may keep the ol' VM prowling the darkness through the long, eternal, upcoming winter. I hope. It's hard to have faith in a Vampire. You never really want to turn your back. As I look for the moral of this story all I can come up with is that nobody purposely picks a bad place to crash for the night or a lemon of a car for that matter. And, it's pretty hard to make lemonade out of a hunk of metal and fiberglass. This is definitely not a bed of roses. As the steam blowing subsides, I realize that I have been looking at the whole thing all wrong. All the sudden, my mind breaks into a Mac Davis song, and I see another bed of roses. “You've got to stop and smell the roses. You've got to count your many blessings everyday. You're going to find your way to heaven is a dark and dusty road. If you don;t stop to smell the roses along the way.” That's a horse of a different color. So, I guess I'll dust myself off and be grateful for the garlic and turnips in my life that work to keep the VM immortal . . . while I look for another “Night Rider”.

Phase Five: The Alaskan Adventure

2008-09-07T15:35:00.001-08:00

Its the beginning of September. Night now falls about 9:30, and the sunrise waits until almost 7:00. For the life of me, I can't believe my month in the little one-room cabin is over. I had this feeling I would love it, but I never realized just how much. Granted it wasn't the middle of winter, and I didn't have to be concerned about the needs of anyone else. But, even the lack of running water really didn't seem like too much of a hardship. All in all, the time to myself was was a highlight in my life. The present looks pretty promising as well. Rick and I moved into phase five of the Alaskan adventure. We are now living in a very comfortable three bedroom home in Ninilchik. It is much more than either of us had envisioned, but then that seems to be the general rule. We always seem to get something other than what we expect; usually for the best. It's funny how quickly one accumulates 'stuff'. We stepped off the plane with two suitcase and a cooler each. We pulled up to the house with a pickup load. Our possessions have grown mainly thanks to an abundance of yard sales. A buck here for a nice set of ten glasses; four dollars for a sixteen piece set of dinnerware (which I love). We have also been frequenting thrift stores. It would have been interesting if I would have kept a log of everything we have gotten and the prices. Even the laptop I am now using for my writing was a $234 Ebay bargain with wireless, 30gig and DVD. Who could ask for more? We are blessed.

First Impressions

2008-08-17T10:07:00.000-08:00

You would think my first day of orientation would be looming with revelations and inspirations about the new district I am now apart. But, as I left the building, my mind was fixed on the same thought I had started the day with; high waters. Yes – the stylish gray dress pants flowed nicely with the classy embroidered white blouse. The ensemble would have manifested many good first impressions had it not been for . . . the dreaded, high waters. This fashion faux pas has plagued me ever since I was old enough to care. I've learned a few little tricks to downplay the hideous truth presented by high waters. But today, the wimpy black trouser socks only accented the whites of my ankles. Even the ultra cool Hush Puppies weren't going to save me from a possible citation from the district fashion police. Those darn socks just refused to stay up. Now, it is quite possible that the mental image I had created in my mind was more hideous than the actual sight. But, I knew as I walked out the door with those stupid black socks gathering below my heel, there was no hope. I had once again fallen victim to one of the greatest assassins of my positive self-esteem, high waters. High Waters: Wouldn't it be a great name for a tall gal fashion line?

End of Summer Meltdown

2008-08-09T21:49:00.000-08:00

Well, it dawned on me earlier today, that this was the last two days of vacation. The beginning of school is like the end of school; bittersweet. With Rick back in Wisconsin tying up some loose ends, I have spent several days at school trying to make some sense of the unbelievable mountain of materials I have inherited in my new positions. Even though I was "working", I was free to decide whether I wanted to be there or not. Beginning Monday that will all change. That is the bitter part of going back to work; the loss of freedom. I have had a blast hanging out in Anchor Point with the Cress clan. I've spent a lot of time reading and writing, enjoying the beauty of the mountains and ocean, and taking time to relax. Summer vacation has been short, but I can honestly say I have made the most of every minute. Who could ask for more? I COULD! I hate to give it all up! Not only am I giving up my cherished freedom, but now I have two new positions to learn, a bunch of new people to get to know, and figure how to utilize all those new programs with a bunch of kids I don't even know anything about. What was I thinking! I could be back in Wisconsin, playing in the garden, soaking up the warm sunshine, and sipping tea by the pool. But, noooo, I start work tomorrow! (Stop) (Take a breath) (Again) (One more time) Such is the bitter part of going back to work. I'll start thinking about the sweet part tomorrow. I'm heading out to make the best of what is left of my freedom.

The Season of Flying Days

2008-07-28T01:00:00.000-08:00

It's Monday morning. Just barely , but Monday none the less. It has been awhile since I have sat down to share the happening of this little 'adventure'. Restless babes and the relentlessly snoring Rick has lead me downstairs to a rare moment of solitude and quiet. So with a glass of Nighty Night tea and a couple minutes to myself, I will try to give a brief update. As you may have gathered, we are now back at Sarah and Jesse's. The stay at the cabin in Homer ended much too soon. It was peaceful, and I really enjoyed the time to read, journal, and just relax. We were grateful to have the opportunity to sit on the porch overlooking the Kachemak Bay, the mountains capped with ageless glaciers, and Homer Spit. We wouldn't have been able to buy a better view if we tried. Being at the Cress's is enjoyable in other ways. It is like a little mini commune. We all pitch in to make meals, clean up, tend to kids, or do projects around the yard. Being able to share this time with them has of course been a highlight. Of course, I could write volumes about my amazing grandchildren. I know I am bias, but I have good reason to believe they are extra special. Everyday one of them does something that blows my mind, and the life that Sarah and Jesse are building is remarkable by anyone's standards. Being apart of all this is the dream come true. In only a few short weeks, a new chapter in the tale of wandering will begin. I had the pleasure of meeting Bob VanDer Wege, principal of Tustumena Elementary School. He gave me the tour and turned me loose in my spacious classroom. I spent the better part of the day sorting through one of the mountains of supplies and materials inherited from my predecessors. There is still much to do, but it will wait. I plan to spend time there once Rick heads back to Wisconsin on August 5th. We finally had a breakthrough in the housing situation. We secured a 3 bedroom house in Ninilchik, which is 26 miles from Sarah and 18 miles from school. It is much more than we had been looking for, but to be true to the course of this journey, it unfolded before us. Our kindly landlord, Ray, is an older fellow who himself is in the process of doing a little work on another cabin next door. He offered us the house for basically the cost of fuel and utilities and an opportunity for Rick "putz" on some building projects. Also, in staying to the course of the way things have been working out, there is one 'glitch'. We won't be able to move in until September 1st and will need to move out by May 1st. So, I am still on the look out for a place to lay my head for August. I'll keep you posted. Speaking of a place to lay my head . . . my tea is gone, the house is still, and it's finally black outside. Now all I need are some earplugs. Hmmm . . . glitched again.

Memories

2008-07-16T11:18:00.000-08:00

It was a cloudy, but mild day. Rick and I headed down to a little spot on the Anchor River known as Slidehole. Rick was determined to put his new $5 rod and reel to use in catching some of those sought after salmon. Sarah and the kids were to meet us a little later for a picnic. I decided to stretch out on the rocky shore and just relax. Making myself as comfortable as one can when lying on stones the size of my fist and bigger, I listened to the sounds of the river rush past and was transported to a kind of dejuve', to a time when I slept on the shores or Lake Superior on a bed of stones. **** My friends Lynn Pufall and Kathy Martin had made our way to the small rock laden beach along the shores of Lake Superior, in Saxon, Wisconsin. We carried only a guitar, a few sleeping bags, and some 'beverages'. I imagine we also had some food as I can't image going anywhere without some, but I don't actually remember eating any. The first part of the night was spent at a little bar about a block away where we sang for drinks. I was 15 or 16, and this was one of my first times to walk on the 'wild side'. With a good little buzz on, we headed for the beach where we were joined by Lynn's boyfriend and his buddy. We partied most of the night, and then "crashed" among the rocky beach. I have never been so cold or uncomfortable in my life. What a great memory! ***** It wasn't long before my thoughts were brought back to reality when Rick yelled over that he had caught a snag and broken his pole. We gathered up our things and headed to the car only to find Sarah and the kids had arrived. We drove to a nice little picnic spot and before long were greeted by an elderly gentleman. He had found a kid's pole he was certain it must be Auden's, since she was the only child to be found. Sure enough, a stray pole, just the right size for Auden. We took the pole home, and Jess tied a nut to the end of the line, gave Auden a few casting demonstrations, and handed Auden the pole. She took right to it, as did her kitten, Buzz. It was a sight to see. A memory in the making; Auden, Buzz, and that Spiderman fishing pole. I was lucky enough to get a little video footage of Auden trying to get untangled from the line, while Buzz was helping. As the commerical says, it was "priceless". A bit later, Sarah recognized Auden doing the 'pottie prance,' and offered to help her take care of the cause. Without missing a beat, Auden said "I go pottie in the woods." She bolted out to the edge of the lawn, pulled her pants down to her knees, and assumed the appropiate position. A minute later, she returned with a proud "I did it" face. Granted, there was evidence that she needed work on her technique, but this little Alaskan girl had mastered the concept. I got to see it firsthand. While I didn't get footage of this little event, it too, is precious and memorable all the same. So, what is about events and experience that cause a certain sector in a brain to hold onto it as a memory? It doesn't seem to have anything to do with everything going right. It seems more like it has to do with surviving adversities and experiencing something for the first time. That is what this trip is about; building memories and watching precious moments. Hopefully, I have enough space in my brain for all the memories.

Goin' Dip Netting

2008-07-09T10:28:00.000-08:00

Dip Netting. This is one of those new experiences I have to share with you. I only can only tell of the experience from a the perspective of an observer, as only legal residents are allowed the privilege of 'dip netting'. In the past, Jesse would go to the rivers and dip net using a boat. New regulations requiring an expensive motor left him with the other option of dip netting from shore. We were invited to join a small group already camping. The intention was to bring the tents and stay the night, but after a call from one of Sarah's practicing mothers, Dana, the idea was scrapped. Evidently, camping during dip netting was not something one would want to do with small children especially on the Fourth of July. The equipment needed to include chest waders (in Jesse's case hip waders would have to do) and a dip net. A A dip net had about a 48" diameter with a pole 30 foot long. With the dip net carefully secured to the top of the Expedition and the crew consisting of Sarah, Rick, the kids,and I in tow, we headed out for the Kasilof River. The drive took about an hour, and we arrived at the inlet of the ocean and river. Being that it was low tide, we were able to put our ride in 4-wheel and drive along the shore. There were times we had to wonder whether the shore would support the large vehicle and our heavy load, but we made it. We joined the campsite of Jeff, Dana, Mark, and Kathy. They had set up this well equipped site twice. Once the day before and once at 5 o'clock that morning when the encroaching tide had pushed them back. This seemed strange to me because the river was about 200 feet away and down a steep embankment. What does a tourist from Wisconsin know about tides? In no time, Jesse had on those hip waders and claimed his spot along side the countless others who had been drawn to the river in hopes that this was the day the 'silvers' would start. There they stood. Jesse in the fridgid water past his waders . . . for hours, as the tide gradually rose until water had reached only a few yards from the camp. Then as quick as that, it was time to go. The tide was risen so high, we couldn't get back the way we came. Jeff and Jesse scouted an alternate route with Jeff's jeep. We got the word and load the Expedition without any time to spare. It was an exciting ride thought a four-wheeler trail, but we made it. Only a few fish we netted. Jesse's determination was reward by being one of the few to be successful. He walked away with two salomn, numb legs, and my admiration for being one tough guy. I don't know of anyone else that could/would have stood there up to his @#& in the ice water for that length of time with such little reward. I learned a lot about him and dip-netting that day. It's all good.

A Little Rain Must Fall

2008-07-06T12:22:00.000-08:00

We've been in Anchor Point, Alaska for one week now. Time is passing quickly. We have used the last few days to adapt to the time, weather, and light changes in our new surrounding and enjoy spending time with family and friends. It's been a balance mixed of pleasure and getting down to the business of starting a new life. We've hit a few more glitches here and there, but overall things continue to be falling into place according to some master plan we aren't neccessarily privy too. The first line of business was to secrue a car and a place to leave once school starts. I had gotten an email from my new principal in June with information about a gentleman who was looking for someone to house sit. I gave the guy a call and it looked like we were set with a house only two miles from school. Wednesday, we decided to take the 60 mile drive to check things out, so I called the guy up to confirm our meeting. He then informed me that he decided to let someone else take the house because they had a family. Who am I to argue with that? But...he wanted us to come up anyway because there was a cabin available for rent. We drove up there and met Harold and Christine. This nice couple gave us a warm greeting and told us that the owner of the cabin was not going to be able to meet with us that day. GLITCHES! We spent the next two hours touring the development they had 'hand-selected'. We ended the tour at a cabin they were working on. Hearing that Rick was a finished carpenter that liked to putz, they presented us with the idea of our moving in the cabin and finishing it over the winter. Ahh . . .there is hope. We left thinking about how all that would work out and decided to take them up on it. Three days later, we were dip-netting (next post) up in Kasilof, and decided to stop by and show Sarah and Jesse the place. Our kind-hearted couple greeted us with the news that Harold had "spoke out of turn" as the place most likely would not be closed in nor winterized. Back to square one . . . So, I put an ad in Craigslist and am looking in local papers. There's nuttin' honey. Yet. Again, we do have options; A wall tent, a 60 mile commute. The good news is that we did find a car. It's a Blazer, the back seats fold down and could fit an air-mattress . . . Oh yeah, let's not forget about the lady with the cabin that didn't want to meet. I spoke with her the other day. It sounds like having a renter was more Harold's idea than hers, but I haven't gotten a firm no . . . yet. Stay turned to see how this one turns out.

Getting To Anchor Point

2008-07-06T11:42:00.000-08:00

I love how things work out better than you have even planned. We had our trip to Alaska planned for several weeks now, with the exception of how we were going to get to the airport. Though we had a few options, a better one was provided to us. We got to the Holiday Inn Hotel via an enjoyable ride with Donna and Alan (spelling?). It just so happened that Alan was heading out for his own adventure on a canoe trip in Canada and Donna was driving him to the airport the same day we needed to get to the hotel. Coincidence or just another affirmation that our needs will be taken care of in ways we least expect? Too good to be true works for me. After a good night sleep, we arrived at the airport and were second in line to the curbside check in. All went smoothly until Rick got detained at security so they could inspect his ceremonial pipe. That guy always gets detained for something. Of course, once the head guy looked at Rick with his Native shirt and turtle necklace, we were on our way. We boarded the plane and found we were lucky enough to have the whole seat to ourselves. :) Good thing. The flight was long, yet uneventful. Upon arriving at Anchorage, we took the shuttle to the south terminal and checked in for our 'puddle jumper' to Homer. Our flight wasn't scheduled for hours, but we checked in early anyways. Sure enough, we were asked if we wanted to take the flight that was leaving in 20 minutes. Score. . . We arrived in Homer at 12:00 (three hours earlier than planned) and found our escorts of Jesse, Sarah, Auden, and Brahm ready to take us home. I couldn't have planned things better if I tried. I love when that happeneds.

Breaking the News

2008-06-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

One of the most difficult things I leave behind are the students who eagerly greet me with "I get to be in your class next year." I know they can't miss something they never had and that most of what they think they know is often hype. That doesn't keep me from feeling badly that our year together has been sacrificed. Still I know that all things work out the way they should. Below is the letter I sent them. I share it because it is the way I feel about leaving many of the other people in my life: my neighbors, my friends, my colleagues, and my family (an unborn grandchild included). Each year, I read a story to my class called Bud, Not Buddy, by Christopher Paul Curtis. It is one of my all-time favorites. It's the story of a boy's journey through a variety of doors. When one door closes; another one opens. Just like his Mama said. Hopefully, someone will read the book to them this year. Then these students will better understand that this is one of those doors. The letter reads: Dear Fourth Grader and Family, I am sending you this letter to tell you about some bitter/sweet news. The ‘sweet’ news is that the Webster School Board has granted me a leave of absence for the 08-09 school year to pursue an adventure in Alaska. I will be working at Tustumena Elementary School in Kasilof, Alaska as a Title I and Interventionist Teacher. This will be a great opportunity for me to learn more about learning and teaching, and give me a chance to live out one of my dreams. The best part of this adventure is that I will be 45 miles away from my grandchildren instead of 4000 miles. (Did you know I was a Grandmother, too?) The bitter news is that I will not be your fourth grade teacher next year. I regret missing the opportunity to work with you and your family. While I don’t know who your new teacher will be, I am sure you are going to have a great year. There is so much to learn and so many fun things to explore. It will be fun no matter who is teaching. Anything is possible! This will be your adventure. So, stay safe, do your best, learn lots, and have fun. I know that is exactly what I plan to do. I will be checking in with your class and send emails and pictures when I get the chance. Until then, enjoy your summer. Best Wishes, Mrs. Day

And so it goes . . .

Glitches

2008-06-20T17:19:00.001-08:00

The first challenges of this new adventure are what I am calling 'glitches'. Glitches are not big deals by any means, but the do tend to test a persons resolve and resourcefulness. Here is an example. I have been working diligently to get my Alaskan license while I still have access to my computer and records here at home. One of the requirements is to have the PPST test scores (taken in my sophomore year 1992) sent to the agency directly from the ETS (the testing company). Vowing to leaving procrastination as a thing of the past, I contact ETS only to find out they only keep records for 10 years. Did you catch the glitch? The seemly easy request has turned into three different phone calls to track down where I can get an official copy of the original results and the filling out of two more forms to request them. Now, I could go into great deal about a few of the other "glitches" I have encountered, but because I am determine to focus more on the solutions than the problems, I will only briefly list a few of the others. "Your records don't show you ever receive a diphtheria immunization." "Oh no, today is the only day we can't give TB tests. Can you drive back to Rice Lake again on Friday for the test and Monday for the reading?" "Oh I am sorry, I didn't see that the form was suppose to be mail directly to you and not the certification office." Certification office: "If we got the form, we would return it to the issuing office, and they will need to sent it back to you." "We don't have fingerprinting cards anymore, but if you do find some, we can take your prints for $10 per copy" There are many more "glitches", but I think you get the idea. The spin I choose to take on all the "glitches' is simply, "Alrighty then." My goal is to enjoy every moment and use each challenge as a learning experience. So while it is a hassle and at times even hair pulling frustrating, I am (at least for the moment) amused. It's all part of the ride and I thank God for fortitude and resourcefulness.

How About an Adventure

2008-06-16T17:31:00.000-08:00

How did the concept of a northbound adventure start? Years ago Rick and I fantasized about leaving everything and heading up to Hudson Bay for a year of solitude and adventure. It would be a chance for us to reconnect with the simpler life we once relished. Rick could write his memoirs. He is quite the storyteller and has many vivid recollections of past experiences that seem to entertain and astound listeners. To me the the concept sounded as a type of vision quest and adventure. In the back of my mind, I always thought that after ten years of teaching a person should take a year to themselves to recharge and reflect. Last school year was my eleventh year of teaching. The tenth year has passed, and I resigned myself to the reality that leaving for a year was just a pipe dream; another one of my big ideas. Then a couple years ago, our daughter, Sarah, her husband, Jesse and kids, Auden and Brahm moved up to Alaska. We had visited a couple times, but being so far away when the kids were so much fun was unbearable. Rick loved Alaska. I loved being with the kids. I had a flashback. It wasn't Hudson Bay. It was better. The dream was not only still alive; it was reinforced with internal and external pushes and pulls. Before Rick knew what was happening, I had taken the plunge into the land of "what ifs" and exploring ways to turn a grandiose dream into a reality. The adventure had already begun.