The wanderings of GRYWHL

We're still alive, and the Little League World Series

2009-08-28T10:11:00.023-04:00

OK, I know it's been forever since I posted on here, so I'm going to ease back into this...

I was trying to wait until we had everything sorted out and we could let everyone know where we were settling, what kind of jobs we had, where school was going to be, etc... but little by little the weeks passed (and turned into months) while we were getting everything all figured out. Our plans are still not completely settled, but things are getting there, so here's the update:

We're settling in the Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania area, which is a decent-sized college town in a fairly rural part of the east-central part of the state, located just off of I-80. We'll be located between both of our parents' homes and within reasonable driving distance of the rest of our immediate families. I'll do another blog soon extolling the virtues of Bloomsburg and the surrounding area. Both of us have some solid job prospects, but I'll refrain from elaborating on that until things are more definite. I'll eventually be attending Bloomsburg University, which is part of the state system, and which has a solid education department. Finally, we are becoming more focused in our housing search, and will have more on that down the road as well. For now, we have a new permanent mailing address of PO Box 703, Bloomsburg, PA 17815, for those who wish to update their lists.

Now that I've let you all know that we're still alive, I'll wrap up this time with some photos from the Little League World Series in Williamsport, PA, which is about an hour from us. To those who enjoy watching this tournament on TV, it really is even more impressive in person:

The day we went, we saw Mexico beat Chinese-Taipei, and the Southwest team of San Antonio beat the West team from Chula Vista. As it happens, both of those games will be replayed with the same teams in the International and US championship games on Saturday.

Orel and Brent were doing the ESPN commentary for the West-Southwest game:

Big crowds. The estimated attendance at the West-Southwest game was 22,250.

You'll notice all the chairs on the hill have had their back legs cut off so they sit level on the slope. These are known as "Williamsport chairs."

Anyone who's seen these games knows about the sliding hill, which is usually busiest during rain delays, though this year's been a bit short on the lawn lubricant, AKA H2O. Which is interesting, considering all the rain we've had this summer. Ironically, the first significant rain of the tournament is here today (Friday, which was the designated as the make-up day for any rain outs).

Gravity alone not good enough for you?

OK, so there's no IQ test prior to admission to the hill:

This was Mexico's first home run of the game, and it went about 300 feet...

The LLWS mascot "Dugout" had a good time with everyone on the field...

Although I think the officials were having a little TOO much fun:

ESPN cameras are kid magnets:

Some of these kids are pretty good (Ok ALL these kids are good):

...and he made the catch...

Until next time... (which I promise will not be months)

More on Whoopers

2009-04-20T17:47:00.013-04:00

As promised, here's a little whooping crane trivia to go with a few more photos:

At this point, there is estimated to be about 350 whooping cranes in the wild, with the vast majority on the Gulf Coast of Texas, just north of Corpus Cristi in and around the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge. That number is, unfortunately, subject to change, however. Because of the extreme drought Texas has been experiencing, the water levels are very low in the whoopers' (as they're affectionately known) normal habitat, which means that they're having a hard time foraging for their favorite prey, crabs. There have been reports of at least 15 cranes dying on their wintering grounds, and that number can only climb as they make their arduous 2500 mile journey up into Canada for the breeding season.

Not all is negative however, as the true low point for these five-foot tall, 14-17 pound birds was in 1941 when there were only 15-21 birds left in the wild. In addition to the protections afforded the whooping cranes on the gulf coast, there have been several attempts to re-establish a second wild breeding population in Florida. The earliest involved placing whooper eggs in the nests of sandhill cranes, and while some did migrate, they failed to reproduce, so that effort was given up. Additional attempts include tries at a non-migratory flock, but that effort has been only marginally successful. The latest conservation efforts have involved the use of ultralights to teach the birds to migrate from Kissemmee, Florida up to summer grounds in Wisconsin, similar to the flock of geese memorialized in the movie "Fly Away Home."

Their seven and a half foot wingspan rivals that of NBA stars...

The above photo depicts the neck of the bird featured in many of these photos, five-year old "Scarbaby," so named because when he was a juvenile he was bitten in the neck by a snake. Initially, his head and neck swelled up and he was unable to eat. His parents, the Lobsticks (so-named because of the river where they spend their summers), delayed their migration until he was able to begin eating on his own, but then left. As an aside, Daddy Lobstick is now 30 years old, well beyond the 22-24 year average lifespan for whoopers in the wild. Scarbaby didn't migrate for two years, and conservationists feared that he would never do so. Happily, he finally met the right girl (the other crane featured in these photos) and began the annual commute as well.

Apparently, because of the extensive attention he received as a youngster, he is very comfortable under watchful eyes, and he and his mate are very accommodating to the boat tours that seek out whoopers at Aransas.

If you're still interested in more about whooping cranes and other birds as they migrate north for the spring, check out Journey North, which is designed for educators and their students. You can also browse Operation Migration for more information on those ultralight-flying, migration-teaching conservationists.

I'm back...

2009-04-20T10:04:00.010-04:00

Laura has reprimanded me for completely ignoring this blog for too long, so I'm back to make up for lost time. Because we've covered quite a bit of ground in our travels, I'm going to bounce around a bit to get some of the photos out. Of course, Laura wants me to share some bird photos, so I'll start with that...

The following are photos of the whooping cranes we saw on a boat trip out of the Rockport-Fulton (Texas) area. I'll do a second post with more later today, and I'll try to share a bit more information about these endangered behemoths at that point.

Oh yeah, and just to give you an idea where we are now at, the RV park we're staying in is at the end of Lonely Street, behind the Heartbreak Hotel, and our RV site is on Hound Dog Way.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2009-03-17T22:09:00.003-04:00

This one'll be real short: I just wanted to wish everyone a happy and safe St. Patrick's Day.

For those of you who know our dog Meika, you know she occasionally enjoys a fine brew. Hey, she came with the habit- I just helped her refine her tastes. I'll leave you with a shot of her enjoying her traditional March 17 pint o' Guinness. OK, so maybe we shared the pint, but then she also got her taste of corned beef at dinner time...

In honor of the Iditarod...

2009-03-13T10:34:00.012-04:00

Since the Iditarod is running right now, and it's the first year in a long time that we haven't been in Alaska to follow it, I thought that I would diverge from our travels for a bit. The following are photos I took at the 2007 ceremonial start in Anchorage.

For those that aren't aware, the Iditarod does a fundraiser called the Iditarider auction each year in which people can bid to ride with specific riders for the first 8 miles of the ceremonial start. When you see riders in the sleds, that's who they are. You may also notice that in some instances, the dogs are actually pulling two sleds. The second sled is manned by a handler for the musher and is used to slow the dogs down because they are so anxious to get running that the can get going too fast.

For several years, I was able to work the same spot at the Iditarod- 4th Ave. & Cordova (the benefits of seniority). There are several reasons I requested that location, not the least of which is the fact that I could watch the dog teams from the start, and I would get to see them take the first turn of the race onto Cordova, which sometimes proved interesting, as the photo above depicts. Again, those dogs are so anxious to run, and that, combined with the huge crowds, the excitement of the start, and a sometimes inexperienced handler on the drag sled, occasionally makes for some interesting mushing. I never had a team go up over the berm there, but there were some close calls that sent spectators scattering.

For those that think this race is cruel to the dogs, take a close look at these pictures- these dogs live to run. If you ever have a chance to go to the start of the Iditarod, do so. The cacophony of howling dogs who are practically jumping out of their skin to start running will forever dispel any thoughts of cruelty. These dogs are cared for in a manner similar to some of our top professional athletes. It seems that each year you hear of a dog or two dying on the trail. What you have to remember is that you're talking about well over 1000 dogs, and statistically speaking, it would be surprising if there were no problems over the three week period of the race. In each instance, the circumstances are closely scrutinized and a necropsy is performed to find a cause of death in order to figure out whether anything was done wrong, and what could be done better. Often times, they find that there was an preexisting condition or undiagnosed heart irregularity, much as we sometimes learn when an otherwise perfectly healthy human athlete tragically dies while participating in the sport that they love. Anyway, I'll step off of my soapbox now.

With that, I'll call it a post, and I'll get back to the travels next time.

Spring Flings

2009-02-28T21:04:00.000-05:00

So you hear about these spring break dramas where these young kids "hook-up" for a brief fling and then head back to their respective parts of the country. Having never participated in this particular rite of passage, it's natural to wonder if it really happens, or if it's just the fodder of sleazy videos sold on late night TV...

Well, I now have first hand confirmation that it really does happen:

It starts with a little playful teasing, with the taller Eugene standing in water just deep enough so as to be out of reach of the object of his affection, in this case, a young UConn cutie by the name of Callie.

Next, they begin to feel each other out, searching for limits and possibilities...

Then, little by little, they let down their guard and become more and more comfortable with one another.

But alas, their time at the beach is short, and all too soon each must go their own way, with Callie returning to Connecticut, and Eugene off on his own journey.

To Eugene's credit, I have to say that Callie's "person" commented that he was quite the gentleman, and that he had clearly won over Callie with his willingness to allow her little victories in their tug-of-war. Sadly, this spring break story ends with our canine couple stealing longing glances out the back windows as their respective cars headed in opposite directions. Fortunately, alcohol is prohibited at the dog beach- otherwise we'd really be in trouble.

And all the while, as her step-brother's romance played out, tom-boy Meika was content to frolic in the sand and surf.

Just so as not to create too much concern for Eugene's mental well-being, here's a few more photos of him enjoying the dog beach:

Finally, I'll leave you with OG Meika leading her homies astray:

Next up: Florida Recap

Crazy People

2009-02-24T12:50:00.000-05:00

Crazy, but looks like fun. These guys were out kite-boarding one windy day when we were coming back from kayaking over on Sanibel Island, and I had to stop and take some photos.

Birding Underground

2009-02-23T09:06:00.000-05:00

February 21 was the Cape Coral Burrowing Owl Festival, and since Laura's all about the birds, we of course were in attendance to wander through the booths of crafts, various wildlife and outdoor groups, and the ubiquitous and numerous greyhound rescue groups. Fortunately, we were able to get through the small festival quickly enough that we did not end up returning to the RV with yet another rescued pup destined for the sweet life.

We then were off to the surrounding area in search of the elusive festival namesake. Well, I'm not sure if elusive is quite the right term... Basically, you drive around the neighborhoods of Cape Coral in search white PVC pipes cordoning off ten foot by ten foot plots which appear to be memorials to gophers of a Christian faith who weren't quite dead yet:

In actuality, the little crosses are perches for the owls, and the plots are intended to provide a buffer for the owls. Unfortunately, many of even the well-intentioned owl groupies seem to disregard that buffer in their quest to peer down into the burrows for the elusive feathered digger.

Even more unfortunate is the fact that others seem to have even more sinister intentions:

I mean, I know they're cute little buggers, but there needs to be a line drawn somewhere!

After viewing several of these plots with nary a glimpse of a feathered critter, we finally came upon one with a little feathered bump sitting next to it's perch. While keeping a respectful distance, I was able to approach enough to take the following picture (and quite a few others), without the owl voicing any concerns about my presence.

In fact, when it became clear after several minutes that the owl was perfectly comfortable with my presence, I encouraged Laura to approach closer as well. As Laura is the consummate experienced birder, I knew that she would be similarly respectful of the bird. I was, therefore, unprepared for her spontaneous and uncontrolled exclamation of "Oh, it's SOOO CUTE!" This, of course sent our feathered friend back to it's burrow, though it was not concerned enough to retreat further than the entrance, and clearly still was not particularly concerned about us:

I'll leave you with couple pictures of what Laura tells me is a willet in the surf, though I'm not so sure.

I mean, I've heard of the cowbird, but based upon it's stance, this one appears to be a cowboy bird:

Git along, little birdie, git along...

Next time: crazy people.

The view from the river

2009-02-22T16:27:00.000-05:00

So as I've previously mentioned, the manatees have proved to be elusive for us while here in Southwest Florida. As further evidence of this, I offer you our trip to "Manatee Park"near Fort Myers. We went there for two reasons, because we figured that it would offer a higher percentage shot at seeing some actual mantatees, and because it was yet another opportunity for me to drop my kayak in the water for a few hours.

Upon our arrival, we learned that 30-40 manatees were indeed at the park...the day before. Oh well, Laura got to add a few birds to her Florida list, while I had an enjoyable 4 hour or so paddle down the Orange River and out onto the Caloosahatchee, which ultimately connects Lake Okeechobee with the Gulf Coast.
While I was out there, I had hopes of seeing a lingering sea cow, but this was the best I could do:

I guess an on-river manatee sculpture will have to do...

Storks are ugly birds, and apparently, all the trees on one side of an island on the Caloosahatchee were beaten with an ugly stick, 'cause there were storks all over them.

Ugly, ugly birds. Fortunately, the other side of the island was covered with the considerably more attractive Great Egrets:

I checked, and that was not an olive branch, though both types of birds seemed to coexist fairly peacefully...

...although any bird is prone to the occasional hissy-fit:

I have to say that the paddling opportunities down here in SW Florida have been really cool. I've been able to sample different portions of the "Great Calusa Blueway," which consists of almost 100 miles of marked inter-coastal waterway "trails" along the coast, as well as 38 miles of the Caloosahatchee River and 52 more miles of other tributaries. If you're curious, you can find more information on the Blueway at www.greatcalusablueway.com

Next up: more bird pics, and crimes against nature.

Dog Beach: "The Best Place in the World"

2009-02-19T20:34:00.000-05:00

OK, so I'll get back to Fort Myers next blog, but first I need to tell you all about the "Best place in the world," at least as far as Eugene and Meika are concerned. That would be the Dog Beach at Bonita Springs just south of Fort Myers Beach, where dogs can enjoy the sand and surf off-lead. We've been there a few times now, and will need to return at least one more time before we leave Fort Myers next week.

While Eugene was his normal obsessive-compulsive self and spent the entire time playing with his ball in an antisocial manner (other then a brief respite in which he obsessively retrieved frisbees tossed into the ocean), Meika gleefully joined the wandering pack of retrievers that alternated romps through the water with the necessary greeting of all new dogs to the beach. The first time we took them, we were still a little worried about Meika, and kept her on a long lead, but she's really earned our trust with her good behavior.

The bonus is that for about an hour and a half, they run around like crazy dogs, but then they spend the next two days sleeping and recovering.

Anyway, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

One happy Eugene!

One happy, happy Meika!

Meika, returning to the pack...

'til next time...

Space Coast

2009-02-19T10:27:00.000-05:00

Here's a couple more shots from the St. Augustine area:

This is an Anhinga that liked to hang out at the RV park we were staying in.

And now on to the "Space Coast," the coastal area surrounding Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center:

So far, the manatees have proved elusive for us (well, as elusive as 2000 lb. "sea cows" can be): they've somehow managed to be where ever we are not.

So that's what those necks are for...

The typical birding view of ducks (Laura tells me there's even a guy who has a book out on duck butt identification)...

Definitely NOT a bird...

...and a different kind of bird...

If you want too see more of the bird pics (and don't we all), they'll be on Laura's blog (the "Birding and Other Chatter" that's linked on the right side of the blog).

Next up, we're on to the Fort Myers area.

St. Augustine

2009-02-17T20:07:00.000-05:00

Here are some pictures of downtown St. Augustine, the Matanzas River, and Castillo de San Marcos:

The Castillo is the oldest and best preserved masonry fort of the Spanish Colonial times in the continental United States, and was initially established to protect the Spanish fleet from marauders as the ships were sailing back to Europe with their New World treasures. St. Augustine's claim to fame is that it is America's oldest continually inhabited city, and it was originally established in 1565 as a fort from which the Spanish interests could be defended, particularly as the French had just established Fort Caroline to the north. The French didn't put up much of fight (Matanzas is Spanish for slaughter, if that offers a hint), but the Spanish maintained their defenses to protect against the British, Native Americans and various pirates after they vanquished the French. The Castillo itself is actually the tenth fort built at St. Augustine, and was built over about 23 years approximately 100 years after St. Augustine's founding, replacing previous wooden forts which didn't stand the tests of time for various reasons. The cool thing about the Castillo is that it is built of coquina, which is basically a sedimentary "rock" made of seashells which have cemented together over time and which the Spanish were able to quarry.

Coquina:

As I said in my last blog, I'm going to keep the commentary to a minimum so that I can start to catch back up, so with that, I'll call it a post.

South Carolina

2009-02-10T12:19:00.000-05:00

OK, I'm having a hard time sitting down in front of the computer to write out these blogs. After all, it's hard to concentrate after I just got done watching the Rangers-Panthers game on TV tonight after spending the day paddling around the Florida Gulf Coast with bottlenose dolphins and various other Florida water creatures (tough living, huh?). Therefore, I'm going to try simply posting up some of the photos with maybe some brief comments.

Just by way of a quick update, we've been in the Fort Myers area for the last couple weeks, and will be for about another two weeks before drifting towards Texas for a while. We plan to revisit New Mexico a bit before making our way back east to the PA area by the beginning of May.

These photos show our campsite at South Carolina's Hunting Island State Park. At high tide, we were about 100 yards from the water, so this was a really nice spot to spend a couple days.

While we were in the Beaufort, SC area, we were able to visit with my Aunt and Uncle, who really outdid themselves, hosting us for a great low-country boil (Thanks again, Aunt Maureen and Uncle Bob!). Between the time we spent at Hunting Island and the prior few days in Myrtle Beach, SC, South Carolina was a great place to defrost after the holiday season in PA and NJ.

Both Meika and Eugene have been getting a lot of enjoyment from Aunt Cathy's Christmas presents, so I have to say thanks again to her. Laura actually had to sew up Meika's monkey pretty extensively, but to date, one of it's six "squeakers" is still sounding off occasionally. I also have to thank Cathy for all the excellent meals she gave us for Christmas- we've finally finished them. (Because we have limited space in the RV, she wanted to give us something that would fit well with our travel plans. As a result, we left PA with our fridge and freezer full of pre-prepared meals, which made life easier for us!)

I'll leave you with one last view from Hunting Island. The next post will cover the ten days or so we spent in St. Augustine, Florida.

Is This Our "Final Answer?"

2008-12-26T20:50:00.000-05:00

**** A quick disclaimer: The date listed for this blog is deceptive. While I started it in late December, it was actually posted in mid-late January. Sorry for any confusion. ****

So as many of you know, one of the purposes of this trip Laura and I have been on for the last half-year or so was to figure out where the next part of our life was going to lead us. It was hard for us to leave our home of seventeen years in Anchorage and there is much that we will miss about Alaska, not the least of which is all of our friends there. However, I think we've figured out that there is just so much that we still want to do and see, and a home base down in the lower-48 will allow us to do some of that. Oh, and the shorter winters surely was not a factor at all in our decision... :)

So the next step was to figure out where we were going to settle next. For most of our trip, Western Montana has been at the top of our list, though we've found that there are many parts of the country where we could be quite happy. We were able to spend the holidays with family in the PA and NJ area (which accounts, in addition to my laziness, for the lack of blog posts here for over a month).

Then after the holidays and a month of worrying about the RV in a winter environment, we headed straight south to warmer climes (more on that phase of our trip in upcoming blogs). While we are going to wait out the rest of winter in sunny Florida and over into Texas, we've finally come to a final decision as to where this adventure is going to end, and the next one will begin. In reality, when all is said and done, it comes down to one simple thing: Family. The holidays helped us realize that, more than anything else, we need to be closer to our respective families, and that means a return to Pennsylvania.

So after all the searching and exploring, we are, once again back to the original plan of settling back on the East Coast. There are still many questions to be answered such as where specifically we'll be, and what career path we'll each be taking now, and I promise that we'll keep you all "in the loop" as these things are figured out.

One thing I do regret is that we will not have the opportunity to continue to reconnect with the West Coast part of the family in a manner that living in Montana would have allowed. The time that we were able to spend with that side of the family will remain one of the most important parts of this journey, and I promise that we are not going to allow that connection to lapse again. And to my long lost twin: I'm sorry that we won't able to serve as that fly-fishing base camp in Montana, but I'll scout the East Coast for you, and you'll have to come out this way some day. Oh, and by the way Patrick, you did win the latest music trivia question with the Winslow, AZ answer, and your prize will heading your way soon. I trust that answer was at least in part based upon personal knowledge, as opposed to a blind googling!? Sorry Karen, couldn't resist the jab.

One last thing before I wrap this one up. As some of you already know, I finally acquiesced and signed up on Facebook, so be patient with me while I figure that one out.

Soon to follow will be posts on the recent South Carolina and Florida parts of our trip, but I realized that during the lapse in posting, I never did get out the last installment of my bird photos from the Festival of the Cranes in New Mexico, so here they are:

I have another photo of this mule deer with it's ears back, but I couldn't figure our how to animate it to flip back and forth on this blog...

Gamble's Quail

Which of these things is not like the other? I call this my "Where's Waldo" bird pic...

and finally, "ghost geese..."

More from the Crane Festival...

2008-12-23T09:58:00.000-05:00

Blog 2 of photos from the Festival of the Cranes:

I was sufficiently vague that I have no winners for my recent music trivia question, so here's a clue: the town was in Arizona, and we went to a street corner (that should make it pretty easy).

That's all for this edition, but I'll have one more post of pics from Socorro soon.

Festival of the Cranes

2008-12-22T21:28:00.000-05:00

OK, as promised: photos from the 2008 Bosque del Apache NWR Festival of the Cranes, without the inconvenience of having to read my rambling thoughts...

Santa Fe and on to the Crane Festival

2008-12-10T16:48:00.000-05:00

After we left the Petrified Forest, we did a drive into the late night hours on into New Mexico and up to Santa Fe. I actually tend to prefer driving the RV at night as it's mostly just us and the truckers, but you do miss out on the scenery (and Laura doesn't like it so much, so she sits there and grumbles and attempts to turn the dogs against me). Funny, but I don't get any complaints when we get up the next morning where we were headed, ahead of schedule.

We decided that Santa Fe was interesting enough in and of itself, so we spent a few days there before heading down the Socorro and the long awaited Festival of the Cranes, saving Albuquerque for the spring leg of our wanderings. We actually didn't even get to see all that we wanted to in Santa Fe, so there may be an encore there as well. While there we did spend a bit of time in the downtown area, which is pretty cool even if it is basically a Southwest shopping extravaganza. The downtown parking situation is one which, in fitting with the casinos scattered around the state on New Mexico (and most of the West and Southwest, for that matter) seems more a game of chance in which the jackpot is you finding a parking space at which you are privileged to have the opportunity to feed exorbitant quantities of change into a "no-armed bandit." If there were any justice, you'd at least have the one-in-a-million chance to hit the jackpot and receive your parking for the day for free...

While in the Santa Fe area, we made it to a couple wineries and a few breweries, so I'll give you the short version of my take on them, but I'll leave the more knowledgeable review of the wineries to Laura. As far as the wineries go, my first impression of New Mexico's offerings was not a good one. We started out at the Santa Fe Winery, where we evidently caused the pourer (the person who provides the wine samples and is supposed to be knowledgeable of them) there great inconvenience by asking to sample some of their wines in the hopes of perhaps buying a bottle or two. He didn't seem interested in sharing any information about the wines, nor was he impressed with my taste in them, which he made all too clear. Interesting sales strategy, and not one which left a positive first impression...

Our next stop was at a winery that didn't appear to actually exist, unless you consider a ramshackle shack on a dusty, chained-off lot which bore a strong resemblance to a salvage yard to be a likely purveyor of fine wine. OK, so not much of a second impression...

I was about to write off New Mexico wines, but fortunately, we next visited the Black Mesa Winery. Aside from the dubious distinction of having a stable of winery cats instead of the far superior winery creatures of the canine variety, this was a much better experience, with respectable wines that both Laura and I found enjoyable. Their claim to fame is a red table wine, Black Beauty, with chocolate flavoring added which even I found ridiculously sweet, though we still bought a bottle for family members whom I know will enjoy it.

OK, on to the microbreweries...

We found the Second Street Brewery in what appeared to be one of Santa Fe's more colorful neighborhoods. The atmosphere, the food, and the beer were all adequate, but not spectacular. Not a place that I'd go far out of my way for, but if I lived close by, I'd probably find my way to it often enough to fill the occasional growler.

We didn't eat at the Santa Fe Brewing Company's modest cafeteria style eatery, but we definitely sampled some good beer there. We left with a growler of the Oktoberfest (it was Laura's turn to choose, although I couldn't complain about her choice- it was a very easy drinking ale), but I had to also pick up a bomber (22 oz. bottle) of their Chickenkiller Barley Wine: definitely one of the smoothest barley wines I've had. I'd have to say that given their selections, I'd definitely be keeping a growler of their beer in the fridge on a regular basis were I a local.

Last, but definitely not least was the Blue Corn Cafe and Brewery. While I can't vouch for their downtown location, if it's anything like their south side location, I'm sure that the food and brew is excellent. On the food front, Laura had their recommended carne adovada, while I had one of the specials, spicy shrimp tacos. I can offer thumbs up to both, because I used the leftovers from Laura's substantial meal in a quesadilla the next day (did I mention that we finally broke down and picked up a quesadilla maker? More on that later). As far as the brew side of things, I particularly enjoyed their Road Runner Pale Ale and their Sleeping Dog Stout, but I think most will find a beer to their taste there. I guess if I lived in Santa Fe, I'd be alternating growlers of Blue Corn and Santa Fe Brewing.

Back to the quesadilla maker. Since we got it, I've been driving Laura nuts with my willingness to put just about anything between two tortillas, so I'd love to hear some creative suggestions that would really send her over the edge.

From Santa Fe we headed a couple hours south to Socorro and the Bosque del Apache NWR's Festival of the Cranes. In the next couple blogs, I'll keep the commentary to a minimum and focus instead on some bird pictures, so if you're into that, check back in the next couple days.

A Different Kind of Crater, Frightened Trees, a Sunset Dinosaur. But first, a humble apology.

2008-11-17T21:47:00.000-05:00

First things first: For all of you who were getting ready to send out a search party, I have to apologize for neglecting the blog for the last several weeks. For those of you who are interested in some of my creative excuses (I'm really good at them), let me know and I'll be happy to provide some. The best of them play off the themes of being busy taking amazing pictures to post (well, taking some adequate ones at least), not having good internet connections, driving cross country in a brief period of time, and just being really busy in general.

For those of you who aren't aware, we are now in the Pennsylvania and New Jersey area for the holidays and are inflicting ourselves on various family households in a pathetically parasitic manner. Good thing we haven't done so in a decade or so as we'll likely not be welcome back for another ten years after this...

In the next week or so, I endeavor to catch everyone up on our escapades, and I promise yet again not to allow things to lapse as they have. As an added bonus, I promise not to write too much- I'll try to simply post a bunch of photos, particularly of the crane festival in New Mexico.

The following three photos depict a really big hole in the ground in the middle of Northern Arizona, and a piece of what caused the hole. I had all kinds of information and facts to share with you about the crater, but it's been so long that I've forgotten them (like you really wanted to hear them anyway). Bottom line: big meteor = big hole and a pretty cool stop. Thinking about what it must have been like at the time of impact brings to mind the movie Armageddon, though without the splintering Empire State Building and other urban destruction.

The next half dozen pictures are of the afore-mentioned frightened trees. For those of you who may be pun-impaired: petrified forest...get it? yeah I know, but sometimes I can't help it. Unfortunately, we had spent too much time at the previously mentioned hole in the ground, so we weren't able to spend as much time as we would have liked here, so it makes the list of possible places for a return visit.

Just as amazing as the process by which these trees were transformed into their hardened state (via the replacement of the wood fibers by various minerals while the fallen trees steeped in their mineral bath) is the fact that this desert area was once treed to begin with, and then was covered by the water which allowed this to occur.

As we headed out of the park, the sun was setting as we once again crossed a portion of what was once the Historic Route 66. We've had the pleasure of many beautiful desert sunsets, and have been on or paralleled Route 66 for the better part of several states, but this particular confluence provided an interesting perspective of the recent dinosaurs that roamed the area.

OK, before I sign out for this particular blog, it's time for another musical related trivia question. Around this time frame of our trip, we drove through a town to check out a particular location. Name the town, the specific location and why we did this, as well as the band that made it famous. Extra credit for the author. This one's already too easy, so I can't say any more, other than the fact that the quality of your prize will in part be based upon the quality and completeness of the first correct answer (google on, Karen).

Sunset Crater, Wapatki Pueblo, and Not All Cows are Created Equal

2008-11-16T19:48:00.000-05:00

While in the Flagstaff area, we took advantage of two nearby National Monuments, Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument and Wupatki National Monument, which abut each other and are in essence, partner parks.

Sunset Crater was formed almost 1000 years ago in a volcanic event that some of the Hopi people living in the area at the time attributed to the fact that the people were "koyaanisqatsi," or living a life out of balance. The Kachina Qa'na Katsina (Kachinas are the powerful spirits which govern the natural world around us, according to several Native American peoples)caused the eruption to serve as a warning that they needed to get back to a more principled way of life. It is said that a failure to lead that "balanced life" could cause another eruption, so given today's state of affairs, we're probably overdue for a big one...

It was really quite interesting hiking around lava flows that reminded me more of Hawaii than of the high country of Arizona. You aren't allowed up to the crater itself anymore as a measure to try to preserve it's condition, and you can actually see the remaining damage from those climbing around on it decades ago.

Wupatki National Monument preserves the remains of numerous pueblos, with the Wupatki Pueblo (pictured below) the largest in the area. In it's heyday about 800 years ago, it would have had over 100 rooms, and it is estimated that over 2000 people would have lived here or within a day's walk. This pueblo is the most significant in the region for the time period and was likely a central meeting place for the agricultural peoples of the area. There are quite a few more pueblos within the monument, some of which are accessible by the public, others that are off limits, and still more that have not been excavated at this time. It's hard to imagine that such a number of people living in a seemingly desolate landscape would be successful in an agricultural lifestyle, but somehow they made it work (although they did ultimately abandon this immediate area for even larger villages by about the year 1300).

Laura was really in her anthropological element, and I know she wants to return to spend more time here, so we'll have to add this to the list of places to revisit.

If you've ever traveled out west, you've no doubt seen, and probably driven over, the livestock grates installed in the roads to prevent cows from wandering helter-skelter about the countryside. If you haven't, here's

Exhibit A:

Obviously, the cows can't negotiate the grates, so the road can be open, but still contain the livestock (to be completely honest, I had a hard time walking over them also, so I'm not sure what that says about me). However, it appears that not all cows are created equal, and Arizona must have some dumb ones.

Exhibit B:

Laura assures me that dairy cows are smarter and would not be fooled by white lines painted on the roadway.

Sedona

2008-11-15T22:15:00.000-05:00

OK, since I keep bringing up various roadsigns, I thought I'd start with yet another littering sign:

And here I was with no idea that the Shakespearean influence was so strong in the Southwest...

Redrum! Redrum! ...I mean Red ROCKS! I should apologize to all those who were just struck with sudden images of Jack Nicholson and his axe proclaiming "Heeere's Johnny!" but I couldn't resist. Maybe it came to mind because of that commercial Verizon has with the freaky kids and their "dead zone," spoofing the movie. Anyway, sorry if I've pushed anyone over the edge due to repressed memories from a movie seen 30 years ago.

Unfortunately, for our visit to Sedona it was pretty much overcast, so I didn't get the warm, glowing red rock photos I was hoping for. Oh, well- I guess we'll just have to come back again...

Sedona has really exploded since my last time here about 20 years ago, but the natural beauty is much as I remembered. I just wish I had appreciated it as much then as now. One warning if you're planning a visit soon: all of the main roads seem to be under construction, and while I'm sure it'll be real nice when it's done, right about then I was hoping for one of those Pink Jeeps to off-road us around the congestion. Good thing the scenery is so spectacular.

While in Sedona, we did make it to the lone microbrewery, Oak Creek Brewery and Grill. While their ales were pretty good, they seemed to lack the punch or depth that I prefer. I have a feeling that they've toned down their beer a bit to appeal to the more sophisticated clientele of the shopping plaza in which they are located. This sophistication was reinforced for me personally when I was informed that I was purchasing a turquoise bracelet for Laura as a Christmas gift at one of those upscale shops. I had no idea I had such refined taste. Anyway, back to the beer... I don't want to give the impression that their brews were not good: they actually were, as was the food (the quesadilla on the appetizer menu was great). A few years ago I probably would have fawned over them, but at this point, I guess I just enjoy a bit more robust ale. Worth a stop, just not at the top of my personal brewery list. I guess I've been spoiled by the Pacific Northwest and those hopped-up IPAs.

Oak Creek Canyon, between Sedona and Flagstaff:

Now THAT'S a motorcycle road!

2008-11-15T12:53:00.000-05:00

Just a few thoughts (and photos) on Flagstaff...

This was the view into the Coconino National Forest, which was directly behind the campground we stayed in while in Flagstaff:

Eugene and Meika really enjoyed their walks in the forest:

They had an odd variety of squirrels in Flagstaff (Abert's squirrels, according to those that know these things), and they about sent Meika through the roof. I think she thought they were a combination of two of her favorite woodland creatures: squirrel and bunny. Their tails were huge and looked as big as their bodies, and their tufted ears gave the appearance that they heralded from the planet Vulcan:

A sign in the store at the campground warned that any shoplifters would be fed to their "funny looking squirrels."

There are a few microbreweries in Flagstaff, and we made it to two of them: the Flagstaff Brewing Company and Beaver Street. Flagstaff brewing was a little "rustic," shall we say? They're the type of counter-culture place you'd more expect to see at the corner of Haight and Ashbury, which translates to a bit of a lackadaisical approach. The ales there were OK, and they had quite a good ESB, but they had no growlers to fill for me. Not only that, but our server didn't even know that they had no growlers left, although the service was otherwise quite good (particularly the hung over but efficient college-age bus girl who seemed to materialize mysteriously every time we had an empty glass or plate and would swoop in and remove it even as we were pulling our hand away from it). The food was good as well, so it seems that the only thing holding them back would be their lack of motivation (although, perhaps that's the way they like it...)

Beaver Street was clearly the class of the Flagstaff brewing community, and had some excellent offerings, both in the food and the beverage arena. I enjoyed most of the beers they had on tap in our sampler, but particularly their Hop-Harvest Amber. It's a nice flavorful amber, but with a hoppy kick created by dry-hopping with the hops they harvested from their own beer garden. I would have loved to have left with a growler of that, but it was Laura's turn to pick, and she really liked their Bramble Berry Brew with it's raspberry flavoring (and I have to admit, albeit reluctantly, that it was one of the better fruit beers I've had). All things considered, definitely worth the stop if you're in the area.

Next edition: Sedona

The Blog- Grand Canyon Edition

2008-11-11T11:58:00.001-05:00

Alright, I'll save you all the tedium of reading my ramblings this time and keep my commentary to a minimum. That's easy to do when the day's subject is the Grand Canyon anyway, as there's not really adequate superlatives to describe this magnificent hole in the ground. In reality, the pictures don't remotely capture it's essence either- you truly have to experience it.

Laura, enjoying her first glimpses of the Canyon:

In the past, I've discussed all manner of road signs on this blog, including animal crossing signs such as the Schwarzenegger Moose of British Columbia, but this was the first time I've seen this particular one:

Pretty cool, huh?

For those of you who may not be aware, the vocalizations ravens are capable of are pretty incredible, and they seem to imitate just about anything they hear. Any Alaskan who has tried to re-arm their car alarm in a winter parking lot when they could have sworn they heard it disarm just after it was armed, only to look up to see a mischievous raven staring down from a street lamp can attest to this. This particular raven made a noise we can only attribute to an imitation of one of the pack mules used to ferry tourists to the Canyon floor.

...hard to believe that little ribbon of water way down there is responsible for all this...

This watchtower was built in 1932 by The Fred Harvey Company of Harvey House fame and the Santa Fe Railroad as part of the visitor facilities springing up across the West as Americans discovered the concept of tourism and sightseeing. While you can't get up to the observation point at the very top (at 70 feet above the ground and 7522 feet above sea level, it's the highest point on the South Rim of the Canyon), you can climb to the top interior level or shop the Native American crafts in it's store..

OK, I'm skipping California...

2008-11-10T10:57:00.000-05:00

Our wifi coverage has been a bit spotty lately, and I'm once again a full state behind, so I'm just going to skip California... OK, I'll come back to it soon, but I couldn't resist posting some pictures of our experiences in Arizona.

To start with, it snowed on us a little bit in Flagstaff, and this was the view from our campground last night and this morning, respectively.

This snow has certainly helped us realize one thing: we definitely need to live somewhere with four seasons. You'd think we were little kids giddy about the possibility of a snow day from how excited we were when it started snowing (I know, I can sense you Alaskans headed to the courts to apply for an ex parte order already). We want a winter, just not one that's seven months long with interminable darkness. I had to take the middle picture just after sun-up, as the white stuff won't be here long (45 degrees for the expected high here today, and warmer down towards Sedona, where we'll be heading to today).

Prior to Flagstaff, we spent a couple days at the Grand Canyon, so I'll include a couple pics from there as well, though I'm going to do another blog soon with more photos...

Our first Arizona experience was down in Lake Havasu, which is this oasis of water in the desert, albeit a man-made one created by one of many dams along the Colorado River. If you traditionally think of a desert oasis attracting camels and other such beasts of burden, well, this one attracts fifth-wheels and all other manner of RVs.

In addition to the attraction of the lake itself, this particular oasis also features the London Bridge. OK, not the original bridge, but an exact replica built in the early seventies to reach an island area on the lake. It's a bit surreal to see this bridge with palm trees in the background.

They even have a couple dragons to denote the boundaries of this "London land," just as they do "over the pond."

Well, I have to go make a snowball before it all melts, so, more to come later...

Birds...

2008-10-31T19:24:00.001-04:00

Crowded day at the office: Apparently there are an unusual number of pelicans on the Oregon coast this year...

Open wide! ...REALLY WIDE:

Great blue heron:
Common loon coming out of breeding plumage:
Cormorant drying it's feathers:
More pelican pics:

Ralph Macchio look out- it's Karate Cormorant practicing the "crane technique." Mr. Miyagi would be proud:

Next he has to do it on the prow of a row boat.

Had enough birds for a while? Next up: California...

Jellies and an Alaskan Dinner

2008-10-31T12:56:00.001-04:00

Oregon again

2008-10-31T01:38:00.000-04:00

OK, we have wifi again, so I'm back on track. But before I refocus on our adventures in Oregon, I have to revisit one of my recurring themes: that of interesting or ironic road signs observed during our travels. I was relieved to see the “End Road Construction” sign as we neared the road summit of Stevens Pass on our way to Leavenworth, WA, but then that relief was snatched away when not more than 50 yards further up was a “Begin Road Construction” sign mocking me. Now I understand that different construction projects are often handled by different contractors, and that often they are on different timetables, but you would think that they could get together in order not to taunt us motorists.

One other sign worthy of note that I saw again and again in our travels through Washington was one of honorable purpose: “LITTER AND IT WILL HURT.” Hurt who? The litterer? Those of us who have to see it? Mother Earth? I guess if they provoke thought, then the signs are working, but each and every time a saw one, all I could think of was the Earth Day public service announcement from the early ‘70s with the American Indian looking over a toxic, litter strewn river with a single poignant tear on his cheek. Never mind that the “Indian,” Iron Eyes Cody, was actually a second generation Italian actor from Louisiana, and that the tear was glycerin; it was still one of the most effective ad campaigns ever. Now Washington’s “LITTER AND IT WILL HURT” signs evoke the memories of those commercials for at least one individual, and now, you’ve gotta admit, it’ll do the same to you next time you see a littering sign as you drive…

And now: back to Oregon. After we left the Hood River area, we skirted the Portland area despite it being perhaps THE craft brew mecca, because, well, if we did it all on this trip, what would we have to look forward to? Besides, we’re beginning to look at this trip more and more as a scouting recon to plan the next decade or two’s trips.

We made it to McMinnville before Laura’s vineyard proximity twitch began to cause her to writhe around in her seat like Linda Blair’s character in The Exorcist. I figured that we better stop before it got messy, so we found an RV park which happened to be literally next door to the McMinnville Aviation Museum, which happens to hold a pretty big plane, among other things.

Our first full day in the area allowed Laura to truly immerse herself in wine culture, and I reluctantly have to admit that Oregon has some good wines in addition to it’s excellent beer. This immersion ultimately evolved into me driving Laura from tasting room to tasting room, as she got a little “toasty.” Have I mentioned that Laura is a bit of a lightweight when it comes to drinking? 95 percent of the time, that just amounts to her heading to bed to pass out after her second glass of wine in the evening, but when you mix in her excitement of going to various wineries and vineyards along with some beautiful weather, it translated to an entirely different experience. The other five percent of the time, she gets a little talkative. Did I say a little? By that I mean that I was treated to an entirely unedited streaming dialogue of every thought that was flowing through her mind. Fortunately, given the aforementioned wineries, vineyards and beautiful weather, these thoughts were overwhelmingly positive. Downright glowing and effusive praise of the world around us, in fact…

The next day we spent a good part of the day in the Aviation Museum, with it’s centerpiece the previously mentioned gargantuan gander: the Spruce Goose. This plane would be downright huge even if it wasn’t made of wood, but under those circumstances, it’s pretty amazing that it got off the ground, albeit only 70 ft for about a mile.

Yes, that is a DC-3 tucked under the Goose's wing (with plenty of room to spare)

B-17, The Flying Fortress

While in the McMinnville area, we also made it to the Golden Valley Brewery where we enjoyed a sampler of ten of their brews loaded onto a plank taken from a wine barrel. All in all, a nice variety, ranging from their Red Hills Pils to my favorite, Chehalem Mountain IPA, to their Muddy Valley Oatmeal Stout. Even Laura enjoyed the majority of them, which is saying something. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty classy, but still family-oriented, so if you’re ever in the area, it’s worth a stop.

Next, we made it to the Oregon Coast, where we allowed Eugene and Meika to channel their inner salty sea dogs in between visits to lighthouses, the Oregon Coast Aquarium and just generally relaxing in the South Beach State Park in the Newport area. We were very impressed with the quality of the state park system, and I have no doubt that you need every day of the nine months available to make reservations for the peak summer season. We’re not used to having electric and water hook-ups in a state park system, and even lucked out with a campsite which was treed, but still allowed us to get satellite reception- the only thing missing was wifi.

We also made it out to the Rogue Brewery in Newport, where we were able to sample a number of brews off of their truly voluminous menu. No matter what your tastes, you can find a beer to match. I can recommend the Shakespeare Stout, the Imperial IPA, the Fresh Hoppy Frog, the Mocha Porter, the Triple Jump IPA, the Dead Guy Ale, and last but certainly not least, Old Crustacean Barley Wine. Shall I go on? Many of these are award winning beers, and they’re just the tip of the Rogue iceberg. All of this in a very informal atmosphere in which you get to walk through the roped off brewery area on your way upstairs to a cozy (read small, but cool), rustic bar area, and an attached basic restaurant, though the samplers are only available in the bar. The appetizers we had to complement our samplers were very good and were excellent examples of good solid "pub grub."

All things considered, Oregon has a lot to offer, so it warrants further consideration, at least as an excellent place for future expeditions. I’ll wrap things up at this point, except to say that for my next post or two, I’m gonna give everyone a break, and keep the commentary to a minimum while I share some pictures from our visit to the aquarium, as well as of some of the birds of the coast.

Save the Sea Kittens!

2008-10-27T11:37:00.000-04:00

OK, this is off topic, but I can't resist commenting on this urgent social and conservation issue. Laura has just made me aware of a critical conservation movement: Save the Sea Kittens! It seems that PETA has turned it's attention to that most maligned creature in the animal kingdom, the fish. At first, I was surprised that I had not heard about this important movement earlier, as I am a charter member of PETA, but then I realized that my group, People for the Eating of Tasty Animals, is occasionally at odds with that other, less popular PETA organization. It seems that PETA wants to put a cuter face on our piscean cousins (I mean, how can you club an aquatic kittie with your fish bonker?!) in order to prevent the ongoing extermination of these noble creatures. Once I had stopped laughing long enough to be able to focus on my computer screen, I went to their website and urge each of you to do so as well: www.peta.org/Sea_Kittens/
Save them water cats!

Hoppy Days are here again

2008-10-27T00:50:00.000-04:00

So before I get into Oregon, I need to mention our last stop in the state of Washington. When we got to the Columbia River, we hung a left and meandered for a while on one of those highways I like to affectionately refer to as a “motorcycle road.” Anyone who rides knows exactly what that means, though such a designation is typically diametrically opposed to easy RV driving. In any event, I’m establishing quite a list of roads I want to cover on the Gold Wing when I get it down from the Great White North. No offense to the brief but intensely scenic motorcycling opportunities in Alaska, but when your state’s highway system numbering doesn’t make it into double digits, after a while you start to dream of a greater variety in your riding choices.

(By the way, if my writing tonight seems a bit discombobulated, it’s because my concentration is periodically interrupted by Laura screaming in jubilation as the Phillies put another nail in Tampa Bay’s game four coffin in this year’s edition of “The Mets should have been here if not for yet another late season choke,” AKA the World Series. No bitterness here, though. That and the fact that I have to finish off this growler of Lost Coast Brewing’s double IPA, lest it go flat in our travels…clearly, an offense which should be considered at least a misdemeanor, if not a crime felonious in nature.)

But I digress…The purpose for our side trip east along the Washington-Oregon border was “noble” in nature (you hop-heads will get that pun, but for the rest of you, noble is a variety of hops- need I say more?). Since circumstances had conspired to keep us from the breweries of Washington, I was determined to make it to at least one before we made it to “Beervana,” as Oregon likes to refer to itself. I had heard good things about The Walking Man Brewery of Stevenson, WA, and we were not disappointed despite the fact that we had to wait a bit for the brewpub to open. I knew we had arrived in beer country (and, I have to admit, got a little giddy) when I saw that they actually had hops growing on a trellis outside the place. Their brews bear names of all things bipedal, ranging from “Pale Strider” to “Barefoot Brown” to “Old Stumblefoot,” their barley wine. After a full tasting of their offerings, I settled on a growler of an excellent strong pale ale (ABV 6.5%, IBU 100 for those interested), “Knuckle Dragger.” All things considered, I would not hesitate to include this as a “must visit” for any pilgrimage to the craft brew promised land that is the Pacific Northwest, and would say that each of the brews they offer is very representative of it's style or type.

As it turned out, our visit to the Walking Man served to foreshadow our next day’s adventure in the Hood River region of Oregon. That fine day consisted of alternating visits to wineries/vineyards for Laura and breweries for me. Hood River is a cool, outdoorsy kinda area with some respectable, if off the beaten path vineyards, and some very solid breweries, anchored by Full Sail Ale. All in all, definitely worth a weekend of tasting and other activities if you are so inclined. From a vino standpoint, the Cathedral Ridge Winery is certainly worth a visit, and the Naked Winery has some interesting selections, though there are several other excellent vintners to choose from- these just happen to be the ones that I remember. Cool scenery with the Columbia River and it’s world renown kite/sail boarding, and a rather bohemian, but small town feel in Hood River itself.

OK, I’m enjoying my Lost Coast IPA entirely too much, so I’m going to call it a night, but I can assure you that I will continue with our Oregon adventure tomorrow, as I have been strongly chastened by relatives regarding my lax blogging ethic, and do not wish to raise their ire further (I will name no names other than to say that one may be a Long Unvisited Cousin in Yon san francisco bay area).

We have a front runner!

2008-10-22T12:29:00.000-04:00

Montana and Washington

OK, so we now have a front-runner:

We’ve visited Western Montana a couple of previous times, and had even taken a cursory look at real estate on one of those vacations, so it wasn’t very surprising that we stalled out and ended up spending a couple extra days in both the Whitefish-Flathead Lake region and the Missoula area (it didn’t hurt that the University of Montana had a big home game that weekend, so the whole town was hyped up and decked out in maroon).

I think the biggest reason for our attraction to that part of Montana is that it’s a lot like Alaska, only with a real summer, and four actual seasons (well, there’s more to it than that, but that is part of it). The mentality and attitude of Montanans is similar to Alaskans’ and the outdoors has a very strong influence on the lifestyle, so we feel like we’d fit in well. Another plus is the fact that it’s attached to the rest of the country, so we can get out on the highway in the RV for a vacation without first having to drive a couple weeks through Canada, and we’re finding that we’d like to do a good deal more exploring in the Pacific Northwest. I had already checked into the University of Montana previously, and found that it had respectable, if not stellar programs for both me and Laura. Plus, I know my cousin Patrick would love to have a Western Montana base of operations for fly-fishing expeditions, so I know where he’s rooting for… :)

In any event, we were enjoying ourselves so much that I forgot to take pictures: I think part of it is that we’ve been here before, so it wasn’t new to us, but you’ll just have to imagine this part of our trip- sorry.

After Montana, we drove straight through Idaho and on through Eastern Washington to the Seattle area, where we spent the night in a Camping World parking lot before having a satellite dish installed on the RV so that we could restart our Dish-Net subscription (it is football season, after all). We took a quick drive up onto the Olympic Peninsula and learned that this was one of the areas we would need to revisit. Laura finally got started on visiting her wineries/vineyards so that I wouldn’t get the evil eye every time we went to a microbrewery (oh yeah, did I forget to mention that Western Montana has some good microbreweries? another checkmark there…)

-I’m going to have to do a post to recap the breweries we’ve visited one of these days, although we didn’t make it to one in Washington until hours before we headed into Oregon.

We then spent several pleasant days visiting with my aunt and uncle, as well as associated cousins and their families. I have to say that everyone outdid themselves with their helpfulness and hospitality, and it was a great opportunity to relax from our traveling and reconnect with relatives we’ve not seen in a long time, as well as some we were meeting for the first time. My Uncle Jerry and Aunt Rosemarie had arranged for us to be able to park the RV next door to their home at a neighbor’s, and even offered an electrical connection with a breaker we managed to pop only twice.

As part of this visit, we went to Issaquah one day to experience all things salmonid at their Salmon Days festival. For how large of a role salmon plays in the lives of Alaskans, we’ve got nothing on these Issaquahians (Issaquites? Uncle Jerry, you’ll have to enlighten us on that one…) as far as their celebration is concerned. The festival is a huge, street-closing event with a parade and hundreds of booths with artisans and foods. All in all, very impressive, even given the gale force winds blowing the rain horizontal.

Now, while Western Washington is very lush and green, there’s a reason for that- and for all my uncle’s attempts to convince us that we would get used to the rain, it’s just too wet for us. We’re coming from a place where we already got ‘too much:’ too much winter, too much dark, etc…so we’re looking for a place that doesn’t have too much of anything. Oh yeah, and there are way too many people in the Seattle area, and nowhere near enough roads to hold them. It was a good thing we were traveling in the RV for some stretches of I-5 near Tacoma, because it looked like we were gonna be camping out in the middle lane for a while. Montana, on the other hand, has a reasonable number of people (checkmark there).

After our visit in the Seattle area, we jogged back east to Central Washington, to the town of Leavenworth, AKA ‘Little Bavaria,’ so Laura could be introduced to her German heritage. Leavenworth was a struggling little burg in the sixties, so the town leaders decreed that they would secede from the Union and align themselves with Bavaria. Well, maybe not quite that dramatic, but they at least remade themselves to look like a town in the Bavarian Alps, and as a tourist draw, it seems to have worked out pretty well.

We spent a couple days in the area, and Laura had the opportunity to sample spaetzle, various wursts, schnitzel, sauer und rott kraut, kartoffelsalat, und apfelkuchen. Ya, gut! Fortunately, everyone spoke English as their primary language, because my German is so rusty that I couldn’t talk my way out of a papiertute (sorry to all with a stronger grasp of German, but I haven’t been able to figure out how to put 'umlauts' over the appropriate vowels…).

When we began to head back west, we were confronted with this at Stevens Pass:

Therefore, we knew that it was now time to head further south…

Next edition: Oregon- grapes, hops, huge aircraft, and salty seadogs…

oh...Canada

2008-10-14T20:56:00.000-04:00

All right, I’ve been remiss in keeping this up to date for too long, so I’m going to have to focus in order to catch up a bit…

Mt. Robson:

Banff and Canmore:

After leaving the Alaska Highway, we pretty much headed straight into the Jasper/Banff/Canmore area, where we spent a couple days. I’ve heard such superlatives about the area that I was a bit disappointed that when we arrived to what was apparently their warmest weather of the year. This caused some fairly heavy haze that made opportunities for alpine photography somewhat limited. Unfortunately, the hot weather was also the inadvertent cause of blindness for several international tourists, who had the misfortune of viewing my shorts-clad, Alaskan-pale legs. I’ll be including a few photos (none of me in shorts, thankfully), though most of them were taken the morning that we left the area, after some heavy overnight rains had knocked down the haze and the temperature.

Canadian Scenery is Expensive:

Evidently, Canadian scenery in Banff and Jasper is worth $19.60 per day, as that’s what we had to pay to drive through. I’m not sure whether it’s a per peak type deal, or whether the wildlife gets a cut, but they do have several “wildlife overpasses” designed to allow Canada’s woodland creatures safe passage over the highways.

I can’t dispute the beauty of the area, but I was less excited by the “shopping villages” of Jasper and Banff. It reminded me of the cruise ship strip in Juneau, though with a bit more variety. The Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel was every bit as impressive as the pictures I’ve seen, and I’d love to return someday for a stay there.

We actually stayed in Canmore, which has aspirations of being Banff, the sequel, but seems more comfortable for us common folk. In contrast to the mediocre experience at the Jasper Brewing Company, the Grizzly Paw Brewpub in Canmore was worth the visit. We went for lunch on a Sunday, and the special was a black bean quesadilla- not your usual pub-grub, but very good just the same. The only downside was the fact that I was surrounded by Philadelphia Eagles fans watching the game :) (including Laura, of course). Interestingly enough, one of those fans had attended Rutgers, so we had to commiserate a bit about their miserable season. The interesting connections we seem to have with the people we’re meeting on the road continues to amaze me.

The RV park we stayed at in Canmore was Meika’s favorite so far, as it was filled with feral bunnies. When I say filled, I mean that per capita, the bunnies ruled. Meika couldn’t figure which one to chase on our walks, and you could smell the smoke coming off the synaptic connections in her brain as she gave herself whiplash trying to watch all of them at once. On the upside, to keep her occupied while we were away from the RV, all we had to do was leave the blinds up on one of the windows, and 4-5 hours later, there she would still be, staring intently.

Calgary:

We then spent a couple days in Calgary, which allowed me to visit the Big Rock Brewery. Think mass-market type beer, so I wasn’t terribly impressed, though it was probably better than a Bud-Mich-Miller (insert the mass market beer you have the greatest disdain for here). Laura got a shopping fix at one of the Calgary malls, thus staving off the withdrawal symptoms that had been building as we traversed the Yukon. Overall, it was a nice break before fleeing the world of the ‘loony’ (I’m referring to the currency unit as opposed to any particular Canadian, although we did meet several candidates). Any place that calls their one-dollar coin a ‘loony’ does have some issues, though.

One other place we visited while in Calgary was the Olympic Park where several of the events from the 1988 Winter Olympics took place. Laura was excited at the idea of the ski jump until she saw how high it was...

Back to the world of the mile per hour:

We then made our sixth border crossing into Montana, and found our way to the Flathead Valley despite our GPS’ (henceforth to be referred to as Jill) best attempts to send us down several of what I can’t even optimistically call cow paths. I know this because the road we were traveling on had free ranging cattle meandering along the shoulders, and even they wouldn’t be caught dead on some of the paths Jill was trying to send us down. A hint to those of you venturing into the world of GPS: Don’t select your vehicle’s icon just on how cool it looks, as Garmin will assume that you chose that monster-truck looking deal because it was in line with your vehicle’s actual capabilities. After Jill’s twentieth attempt at sending us off road, even I began to notice a pattern and made the connection, thus narrowly averting that most embarrassing of circumstances: resorting to reading the instructions.

The following is a view over an area in Montana obviously hard-hit by a recent wildfire, which is essentially the only photograph I took in Montana (more on that next time).

With that, I’ll conclude this addition, with more to come soon.

Skagway

2008-09-28T15:06:00.000-04:00

OK, this seems like it was years ago, but I’ll try to give you my impressions of Skagway. I suppose we started our side trip down to Skagway with very high expectations, as everyone had great things to say about it. As mentioned earlier, we only had limited views of White Summit and the gorge as we descended to the town, and once we made it down, it was gray and very windy.

There’s a sense of two towns as you drive through, with the Skagway that people actually live in, and the Skagway that people get off of large boats to see. In season, Skagway is very much driven by the cruise ship industry, and there was at least one boat in each day that we were there. While the ships are there, the “touristy” shops are all open plying their wares (which are exactly the same as was available, or will be available, at all the other ports of call in the inside passage with the exception of “Skagway” being printed on all the shirts). Somewhere, there is a clothing producer with a bunch of stock t-shirt and jacket designs with an “insert town name here” computer program. As soon as the last ship leaves for the day there is this collective sigh of relief from the town, and the tourist drags suddenly become a veritable ghost town. You can walk down the center of the street with no fear of being hit by any tour buses, and see only the occasional seasonal employee scurrying into the only businesses remaining open (the bars, of course). You can even hear the hanging signs creaking in the wind. The only thing missing are the tumbleweeds blowing though.

One of the reasons I was excited to visit Skagway was the history of the town as it relates to the Klondike Gold Rush of 1898, and while some of this historical perspective was a bit kitschy, with the tour guides dressed in their period costumes dramatizing the life and death of Soapy Smith, there was still enough for those seeking greater historical depth. There is a small, but legitimate museum in the McCabe building, which was built of granite in 1899, and has served as everything from a school and college, to a court house, jail and marshal’s office over the years. Now it houses the museum and otherwise serves as city hall.

This is the hall of the Arctic Brotherhood, which is decorated with the ever popular driftwood siding.

This is the main drag of Skagway just one half hour after the last ship of the day left. This is about 5 PM, and the rush hour pretty much consisted of a guy riding by on his bike with not one, but two dogs jogging alongside. Clearly, just short of gridlock... (Laura makes a cameo at the street corner in the yellow jacket). On the kitschy side, Laura was determined to have a beer in the local brothel, The Red Onion, which offers tours of the “facility” at the rate of “$5 for 15 minutes, the same as in 1899,” in addition to the bar and souvenir shop on the first floor. I went along, but only because she made me.

The other historical highlight in town is the White Pass and Yukon Route small gauge railroad, which was built to transport gold miners that didn’t feel like carrying their literal ton of gear up Chilkoot Trail and Pass. Unfortunately, by the time the railroad was ready to go, most of the Rush had passed, but it served the US Military well transporting men and equipment to the construction of the Alaska Highway during WWII.

This is the White Pass & Yukon Route "Snow Plow No. 1," which was built in 1899 by the Cooke Locomotive and Machinery Company of Patterson, NJ, and was in service until 1964. During that time, it made 2580 trips and logged 181,000 miles, clearing the tracks of snow via it's huge bladed snow thrower.

My personal highlight was our trip out to the start of the aforementioned Chilkoot Trail, which started at the town of Dyea. Before the Klondike Stampede, it was a tiny native village and trading post, but during the Rush, it boomed to 8000 people in a muddy shanty town, built to exploit the miners as they began their quest for riches. However, with the completion of the railroad, the steady supply of stampeders dried up, and by 1903, the population was a massive 3 people. For the most part, the town was disassembled and the materials were packed off, leaving very little signs that the town ever existed. The town site is now trees and meadow, and it is amazing to try to picture a bustling town existed there just over a century ago. It’s now a national historical park run by the park service, and you can walk through the woods trying to imagine the street grid as shown in the walking tour handout. All that’s left are a few ruins of a rowboat, a warehouse, and the false front of a business in the town (these fronts were used to make a more impressive first impression to prospective customers, as opposed to the flap of a tent.

This is the remains of the Vining and Wilkes Warehouse, which is described by the sign below. Note all the buildings around it in the sign, as compared to the literal forest surrounding the lonely remains above.

There is also a stampeder’s cemetery for those killed in an April 3, 1898 avalanche, which includes at least one from what we think was Punxsutawney PA, spelling issues aside. It was a pretty surreal experience to imagine what it would have been like to be one of those miners arriving in Dyea a century ago, just starting out on their Alaska and Yukon adventure.

Oh, yeah, Skagway has a pretty good micro-brewery too, and they also have a good Spruce-Tip Ale. They were closed when we first got to town for their end of season employee party (much to the consternation of some of the cruise ship tourists who were only in town for the day), but a few bleary-eyed, hung-over, junior employees had the honor of dragging themselves in the next day for our benefit.

The Alaska Highway:

OK, getting back on the road, I have just one more thing to say about the Alaska Highway, as I think I’ve already beaten that horse pretty well. While some stretches were monotonous and boring, and others were stressful due to the road conditions and our seemly daily required allotment of fog, I have to be fair. We were fortunate to be on the highway during the height of the fall colors for most of the highway, and there were stretches that were just incredible. The area surrounding Muncho Lake is flat beautiful, and I found myself gawking at the northern portion of the Canadian Rockies (it was fortunate that traffic is light at this time of year, because we were able to rubberneck and really take in the scenery as we drove). Those of you that know me know I’m not prone to hyperbole, but expressions such as “child-like wonder” and “dumbstruck and speechless” came to mind during those stretches (yeah, I can hear the wise-ass remarks regarding me and ‘speechless’ already).

The big draw at Watson Lake is the sign forest, shown below, which now has well over 100,000 signs. Seems a homesick GI assigned to the construction of the highway during WWII put up a sign indicating the distance to his hometown, and since then the idea has taken root (sorry for the pun, but they're necessary once in a while). Now, many people traveling the highway actually have signs made ahead of time for the express purpose of leaving them behind. There are also quite a few travelers who evidently decided that their license plates were extraneous and left them behind as signs.

Getting to Dawson Creek, the start of the Alaska Highway, turned out to be pleasant weather-wise, but somewhat anti-climactic. I kinda thought there'd be more from a historical standpoint than the little visitor's centers/gift shops that were near mile zero and mile one. So much so, that I never even bothered getting out the camera to take a picture of the zero milepost. In any event, we took a day to refresh ourselves and clean out the RV a bit before heading south.

For my next edition, I’ll wrap up Canada with our visits to the Jasper/Banff area and Calgary.

more random thoughts

2008-09-19T23:54:00.000-04:00

I haven't had a chance to download my pictures from Skagway yet, so I'll have to treat you to some more wanderings of an addled mind...

~I found it interesting to look at the various burns as we continued on east and south on the highway. By "burns" I mean the aftermath of all the wildfires which have occurred on the surrounding lands. It became a bit of a game to try to guess how long ago the fire occurred based upon the regrown vegetation. The most recent burn was only 2 years ago, and you could just start to see some of the sapling quaking aspen peek over the regrown grass and weeds (such as fireweed, so named because it is one of the first things to grow in soil after a wildfire). Then there are the 5-10 year old burns where the aspens have just started to look like real trees, popping up around the standing skeletons of the burned trees which have not yet completely given up the ghost. After that, pretty much all the standing dead wood has fallen to decompose and fertilize the soil, and the aspens have really come in thick, but with the beginnings of competition from the conifers (mostly white and black spruce in the areas of the Alaska Highway). Finally, where some of the old burns from the mid-1900's occurred, you now see the beginnings of mature forest, in which the conifers again reign supreme.

OK, on that note... time for a somewhat obscure music trivia question: Name the rock group who sung of "trouble in the forest," concerning competing species of trees. Extra credit if you can name the album (do they still call them that?), and a gold star if you can name the warring species. I'll figure out some kind of a prize for the first correct answer.

~Once you get past Fort Nelson headed east on the highway, you get into some serious straightaways. The longest I kept track of was 7.5 miles. As long as you're vehicle is properly aligned and you have cruise control, the driver becomes essentially superfluous. As I was sitting there bored, I couldn't help but think of the ESPN commercial where Boston Celtics players were watching the end of the movie Hoosiers as they were road tripping in an RV, only to find that the driver, Coach Jeff Van Gundy, was standing there watching with them. The commercial ends with a view of the RV veering onto the shoulder. I'm pretty sure that on some of those straightaways I could have watched the entire ending of Hoosiers from the time they step out onto the championship court in the huge field house and Gene Hackman's character has his team measure the court to show them that it's the same size as their own small hometown gym's.

~Oh yeah, one more comment about the road signs- Is it really necessary to post a horse crossing sign 100 yards (oops, meters) after a moose crossing sign? Are Canadian drivers so focused in their vigilance regarding moose in the roadway that they would miss a 1000 pound horse blocking their lane? Or did they just not want the horses to feel left out... I think they just need a sign stating "HUGE ANIMALS IN YOUR WAY- LOOK OUT" Well, that and the occasional randomly placed "CAUTION" sign to keep you on your toes...

~We saw a big gaggle of geese flying south as we were entering Fort Nelson. I'd say they were flying in a "V" formation but these guys must have been taking Chinese because they kept forming what appeared to be the characters of the entire Chinese alphabet. I still knew they were Canada Geese, though, because I kept hearing "Honk, eh?" (What, this far into Canada for my first "eh", joke? -quit complaining). By the way, the "ehs" are driving Laura nuts, so please throw a few into any correspondence you may have with her.

~Our dogs are still doing well and are becoming seasoned travelers, though Eugene has to sit up front with us and pant the entire time we're moving. I'm trying to come up with a new rating system for how bumpy the roads are based upon the radius of drool spatter around his position. It's OK to laugh though, since he sits closer to Laura than me when I'm driving. :) She actually has to sit there with a towel on her lap in order to stay dry.

I'll leave you with that for now, with the as yet unfulfilled promise of more meaningful posts to come...

Random Thoughts from the Alaska Highway

2008-09-18T12:11:00.001-04:00

Since we’ve now reached the end, or more accurately, the start of the Alaska Highway, I thought I would offer a few random thoughts about the road and those that maintain and live along it before I fill you in on our travels to date…

We were almost able to complete our “Alaska Highway Collection” of roadside wildlife: We’ve seen the standard issue moose, coyote, caribou, elk, whitetail deer, the squirrel trio (red, grey, and artic ground), bison (wild and domestic), and if you count the browns in Haines, bear as well. Unfortunately, we did miss out on the stone sheep in the Yukon, which are similar to big horns, though somewhat smaller and gray in color. At one point, a mother lynx was ushering her four kittens across the highway, though by the time I was able to stop, this was the only view I was able to capture…

We even saw a Yukon cousin of Punxsutawney Phil, (for those of you not familiar with the lore of the prognosticating Pennsylvanian of Punxsutawney, I refer you to the Bill Murray movie “Groundhog Day.” Phil was the feisty fellow who Murray’s character had to remind “Don’t drive angry,” just before they made their suicide compact and drove into the ravine. I really liked Laura’s comparison of the herd of a hundred or so Bison who were lounging along the roadside to the scene of so many beached walrus. Henceforth, I will refer to all bison as ‘land-walrus,’ (unrelated to the ‘land-shark’ of classic Saturday Night Live fame). For a photo of the land-walrus, you'll have to check out Laura's blog- I was busy driving through the herd.

This brings me to my next random thought- the road signs relating to the crossing of the aforementioned wildlife. As we progressed, several of the signs seemed to indicate regional disparities among species. For most of the Highway, the moose crossing signs were similar to the ones I’m familiar with in Alaska, but as we drove deeper into British Columbia, the signs depicted these bull moose in a manner which I can only describe as bulked up super moose on steroids. If the signs are accurate, these Mark Maguire Moose must wreck havoc on even the largest trucks in the event of a roadkill. At one point, near Muncho Lake, the whitetail crossing signs changed from the typical parallel leaping deer (think John Deere) to one version which seems to depict the deer in the area as if in a suicidal charge straight at your front end. Finally, there are the sheep crossing signs (oddly, also in the Muncho Lake region-must be something in the water) which are two-parters, with the left portion of the sign showing a car approaching a ram, and the right side cruelly showing a smashed up car driving over the hapless ram. Evidently, the road maintenance people are very politically correct, and wish to cater to those who may be causality-impaired.

More on road signs:

There are several sections of the road which have been resurfaced via the tar-and-chip method, and which had not had lines painted on them yet. On one particular section, we had been traveling for several miles when we came upon a sign which advised belatedly of “No Lane Markings.” For those of you travelers who had not yet noticed this subtle change, in the words of Bill Engvall, “Here’s your sign.”

For the most part, Canadians seem to be pretty good at warning you of impending roadside doom, but at one point, after several miles of nothing unusual, we came upon an orange warning sign stating simply “Caution.” There was no other elaboration, no other signs, and nothing else of note for several more miles, ah, kilometers. Apparently this sign is for those travelers lulled into complacency by those endless miles.

Near one roadside lodge, the residents are concerned enough for highway safety as to have erected signs warning of “Sasquatch crossing,” though these particular big foots (big feet?) seem to have a taste for Canadian beer, as they are depicted as having just purchased a case of Kokanee.

Finally, on the dirt the highway deposits on vehicles: There was a work truck stopped at a roadside pullout with quite a thick layer of dirt on it. Written in the dirt was the following: “I wish my woman was this dirty.”

On that note, I’ll call it a post, with the promise of writing something more meaningful soon…

Catching up...

2008-09-17T12:36:00.000-04:00

In the next couple installments, I’ll try to catch you up on our travels since leaving Haines. So, for those of you planning on soldiering through the whole thing, no need for ambien tonight!

When we headed back up towards Haines Junction, the weather had indeed improved from our trip down, though we still had some fog to contend with. All things considered, if you’re planning a trip down the highway and have the time, this isn’t a bad side trip to take (albeit a 300 mile, round trip jaunt). The roads are in excellent condition, and Haines is an interesting, if small town. As far as Southeast towns go, this one doesn’t seem to have been as significantly affected by the cruise ships it does get (although they only get a fraction of the ships compared to some of the Inside Passage towns). The same cannot be said for Skagway, but more on that later.

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, was our next stop. This is the seat of government for the territory, and as such accounts for more than half of the entire region’s population with a whole 24,000 people. Like Anchorage, because it is the economic and resource center for it’s region, it has perhaps more infrastructure than would be the case in a lower-48 city/town of similar size. There are a couple of cross streets which seem to cater to the tourists, but there is a very nice riverside park area with bike paths, a kid’s water fountain for the hot weather, and the occasional beached stern-wheeler from the riverboat days (OK, only one, but it’s not everyday you turn the corner in the bike path and are faced with a 210 foot long steamboat sitting high and dry). The Klondike II (the first one was destroyed when it ran into a sandbar) was capable of moving 300 tons with a draft of only 4’. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera with me on our walk, so I can’t give you a sense of it’s size, but it’s flat amazing that such a large vessel would have only a one foot draft when empty. It’s pretty interesting to look out over the Yukon River and picture all the commerce and river traffic during the steamboat and gold prospecting heydays.

The northern terminus White Pass and Yukon Route small gauge railroad used to be here, but the train now only functions as a tourist ride to the summit out of Skagway, though they do combo tours where bus service will get you the rest of the way. These days, Whitehorse has a reasonable shopping area if you need to restock on supplies, and even has an RV-friendly Walmart. Of course, Whitehorse has those critical establishments such as McDonald’s, KFC, and a Boston Pizza (apparently, removing the “‘s” takes an American establishment and renders it Canadian…). However, that most critical of businesses, the microbrewery, is well served by the Yukon Brewing Company. I have to say that all this remoteness allows these guys to spend a lot of time perfecting their recipes, and the local population doesn’t seem to take it for granted. While we were there, there was a steady stream of locals filling their growlers for the weekend, and apparently, for the Friday afternoon at work, based upon some of the conversations (clearly, the Canadians subscribe more to the European mentality when it comes to alcohol). In any event, if your driving through and have ANY proclivity towards a good brew, it’s a must stop.

Our next side trip was down to Skagway, which everyone told us was a very picturesque drive, and a “can’t miss.” Well I’m sure it is, but the drive down from White Summit was just that- white. We were enshrouded in fog with less than 50 yards visibility most of the way down, so we had no real sense of the hundred plus foot drop-off on the other side of the guardrails, which I suspect, Laura didn’t mind at all. Just prior to the 10.5 mile steep downhill from the summit (Which the Whale handled surprisingly well) is the summit area surrounding Fraser. With it’s mountain tarns, stunted black spruce and it’s lichen covered rock and boulder strewn “moonscape,” this area was downright spooky in the fog.

Laura’s starting to give me dirty looks, as we need to hit the road, so I guess we’ll leave this as “to be continued…”

Bears, bears, bears

2008-09-15T00:47:00.000-04:00

OK, so I've promised you all some more bear photos, but I'm amazed at how busy I am now that I'm "retired." It's hard to sit down in front of a computer when there are other, more interesting things to do. Well, here's a few of them until I feel sufficiently motivated to catch you up on where we're at and what we've been up to.

Now, as I post this next one, I can imagine the collective whispers to the bus driver from all the Alaskans out there who find our tourists oh so endearing each year.
"Let them out...let them out..."
Of course, the bear may be whispering the same thing...

This next picture is of the rare English Pointer Brown Bear. You can't see it, but his tail is straight out as well. This rare bear will stay on point on the fish until it's owner/handler releases him.
OK, maybe not, but this photo reminded me of my brother-in-law Mark's bird dogs, and I couldn't resist...

The next photo answers one of those eternal philosophical queries...

Yes, indeed... a bear does SIT in the woods. Oh and as you can tell, they obviously also stand in the woods. This one is, of course a male caught unawares...

The photo above provides the real explanation as to why most bear maulings occur when a bear is surprised. You see, they don't want you running off and telling everyone how STUPID they look when they're surprised...
(And no, I didn't doctor that photo.)

Finally, if you're not "dazed and confused" at this point, he sure is...

Haines

2008-09-11T13:07:00.001-04:00

OK, so for some reason I thought that the roads were going to get better once we got into Canada. Not so much. The first section after entering the Yukon was worse than any in Alaska, with even more “diver-down” flags. However, I have yet to figure out exactly what criteria is used to determine the placement of those flags. I think they just load them up in a pick-up bed and then drive the road at 55 MPH, excuse me, at 90 KPH, and where they bounce out as the truck goes airborne, they come back and put them up. Trouble is, there are just as many frost-heaves that aren’t flagged, so they have limited value. I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad in a car, but in the Gray Whale it feels like we’re headed out of Resurrection Bay for halibut on 8 foot swells, or as the NOAA weather station puts it, “seas 8 feet.” Other than the need for Dramamine, we made it into Canada on September 9th without any trouble, and went as far as Haines Junction.

After the wonderful driving conditions, we were wondering whether heading down the side highway to Haines was a such a good idea, but now we’re thankful we did. The road condition was great, and the topography was really cool, at least what we could see of it. As we went over the Chilkat pass it was rainy and REALLY windy with the temp at the summit bottoming out at 38 degrees, but still worth it. After the pass, as we started down towards Haines, it was as though someone flipped a switch and the land which had been almost entirely treeless was suddenly thick, temperate rainforest.

We had planned only to spend the night before heading back out, but we’re still enjoying Haines, so we’re gonna stay an extra day. As Laura has mentioned in her blog, I’ve been embracing my German and Irish heritage, and have been enjoying visits to Alaska microbreweries for some quality brews (emphasis on quality as opposed to quantity). I’ve just about made it to all of them up here (OK, so maybe that isn’t quite such an amazing accomplishment, but I'll finish later in Skagway). I’ve taken to collecting growlers (half gallon jugs) from each of them, though I’m not sure where we’re going to store them as the trip continues.

Anyway, we made it to the Haines Brewing Company, which is in a little store front on the set that the movie White Fang was filmed. Good beer, especially their Spruce Tip Ale, which, as the name suggests, has spruce tips added during the brewing process. That flavor is actually much more subtle than I would have expected, given my previous experience with Alaskan Brewing Company’s Winter Ale, where you can clearly taste and smell the spruce. Laura’s been very patient with my little hobby, though I expect I’ll have to return the favor once we get to wine country. As we travel the country, if you have suggestions for good microbreweries, brew pubs, or wineries, please let us know, so we can visit them as well. At some point, I’ll probably talk a bit about Alaska’s microbreweries, as what we give up in sheer numbers we make up for in their quality, at least as far as I’m concerned.

Oh, yeah- the other cool thing about Haines is the bears: they are fattening up on the salmon in the waters between the bay and Chilkoot Lake, and the weir is pretty much an all you can eat buffet for them. Mom was trying to teach her cubs to fish, but they seemed more interested in watching her do all the work.

The light was pretty bad as I was taking these shots so hopefully I’ll be able to get some better ones today… With that said, we better go chase the bears, so I’ll write more later...

2008-09-08T21:10:00.000-04:00

Endings and beginnings...

Fall has already begun...especially as we head north...

Warning: Nostalgia Ahead… OK, so our journey has officially begun, as of 0842 hours on 9-7-2008 when we pulled out of the Fred Meyer in Eagle River where we stayed for the night (who’da thought that the Eagle River Campground would be full after labor day). The first song that came on the radio as we pulled onto the Glenn Highway ramp was the Styx classic “Come Sail Away,” which I thought was somewhat appropriate as we took to the road in our ‘land yacht’ to “search for tomorrow on every shore,” as the verse says. Normally, I’m not much one for looking backwards, but it did strike me that just over 17 years ago, we drove into town on the very same road, not knowing at that time where life was taking us. Now, we are leaving with that same uncertainty, and I hope are just as excited about what’s to come.

As we headed out, we were passed by two APD cruisers, obviously on their way to a call, and I couldn’t help but think that I should have been going with them. It was quite disconcerting to think that was no longer the case. As we made our way towards the Knik River and the border of the Municipality of Anchorage, I saw that those officers had gone to cover another officer on a traffic stop, and that all was “10-2,” or “OK,” though it was obvious by the empty stopped vehicle that someone was in custody. All I could think of as we left the MOA was the two APD officers who had made the ultimate sacrifice over the course of my career, Officers Dan Seely and Justin Wollam, both of whom I had known and respected. The phrase “There but by the grace of God…” came to mind, and all I can say is that I hope to never again hear of another fallen brother at APD or anywhere else, but sadly, I also know that will not be the case. All I can offer is the reminder that I had taped to the steering wheel of my cruiser: “Is this THE call?” and the admonishment to “STAY SAFE.” Please… stay safe. Once again, thanks to all the officers who helped keep me safe over the course of my career, and I sincerely hope that I was able to do the same. To all of you not in the law enforcement community or in the military, please take a minute to thank those that serve next time you see them- you don’t necessarily realize their sacrifices, nor those of their families, unless you’ve “been there.” While I’m thinking about this, this is a good reminder that I need to thank Laura- I realize that it’s just as tough, if not tougher, to sit at home worrying about what’s happening out on the streets, or across the world, when you have no control over it…

OK, enough of that…

For our ‘prologue’ trip down to the Kenai Peninsula just before we headed out, I must note that on both our trip down and then back up the Turnagain Arm, it was close to high tide, and each time, we saw beluga whales feeding very close in to the shoreline, closer than we’ve ever seen before. I figure that must be good luck of some kind… They were all the way up near the Arm’s headwaters (or should that be shoulder-waters, given the name?), and it was encouraging to see them, given that sightings have been less and less frequent as their numbers have dwindled. For those of you not from waters frequented by belugas, and who are picturing these great creatures thrusting themselves skyward in pursuit of their prey, the elusive salmon of Alaska, their flukes (tails) striking the water with ground shaking force as an exclamation point, think again. It’s more like little whitish-cream colored bumps breaking the surface every so often before dipping back underwater, but still exciting for us who have seen too few “lumps” recently.

So today we made our way to Tok, Alaska, our last stop before our first foray into Canada, and I realized that Alaska is very fiscally responsible when it comes to road construction and repairs. For those who haven’t been to AK, I should explain that Alaska has two seasons, winter and construction (even more so than elsewhere). While I already knew this, especially as I had worked quite a few overtime details doing traffic control for Anchorage construction projects (which I worked as a way to save money for the diesel for this trip, with each OT detail thought of as x tanks of fuel, and unfortunately as fuel prices spiked, as 1/x tanks of fuel), it really struck home as we made our way north. How exactly is Alaska frugal about its DOT expenses, you ask? Well, it really costs a lot to repair some of the remote, frost-heaved roads up here, so rather than rip them up at the first signs of damage, they first wait until they get really bad, at first putting up temporary signs warning of “ROUGH ROAD AHEAD” conditions. Then, when it REALLY gets BAD, they take down the temporary signs…and erect permanent “ROUGH ROAD AHEAD” signs. Smart, huh… When there are really bad dips in the road (other than the one driving the motor home) they put up these little flags at the roadside to denote the bad spots which look eerily like the flags used to denote an underwater diver. I thought this odd until, after the bumps and undulations of several of these “diver down” flags, I came to appreciate what it must feel like to have the bends.

More later...

Homeless and Unemployed...sort of

2008-09-04T17:03:00.000-04:00

OK, where to begin... Since some of you know exactly what our plans are (and if you do, please fill us in), while others probably do not, I'll tell you a little about us. Laura and I have been in Alaska for 17 years now, married for 15 of them, and we're setting out on this RV journey of 8 months or so (give or take a year) because we really want to test our relationship by placing ourselves in a confined space with very limited opportunities to escape from one another for an extended period... Oh yeah, and add in 185 lbs. or so of canus monkeyous (also known as our two "monkey" dogs, Eugene and Meika), and I figure the fur will be flying.

Most of you know that I've just taken an early, 15 year retirement from the Anchorage Police Department (I'm telling everyone that I'm "between careers" because it's too absurd for me to think of myself as retired). After making it official and receiving my retired badge yesterday, I have to admit that it feels a bit odd- being a police officer is not the same as simply "having a job," and that comes with a certain mindset, so to speak, though Laura has different names for it- but I'm going to try to keep this a family blog, so... I'm not sure how long it'll take to make that adjustment: I guess we'll see. I'll probably have more to say about my career at APD later, but for now, that's enough about that.

For those of you that are wondering where we're ultimately moving to, or whether we're returning to Alaska, we've finally reached the point where we're OK with saying that we just don't know. Over the years, we've changed our minds so many times (I believe the official estimate was 463 at last count) that I think we've given friends and family mental whiplash, so we're finally just saying that as soon as we know, you will too.

The plan is for me to go back to school for at least a Master's in Education somewhere, and this journey will hopefully help us figure out the where. So, this is your opportunity to start schilling the virtues of your respective alma maters, each of which I promise I will give serious consideration before dismissing out of hand for a seemingly trivial reason. If I have my way, Laura will be supporting me while I immerse myself in the educational experience, but I may be a bit overly optimistic there, and will likely have to chip in as a Walmart greeter or something like that...

As many of you know, I'm into photography, so I'll hopefully be including some pics with this blog as we travel. I have to warn you that Laura is afflicted with a serious obsession relating to all things feathered, so I end up taking lots of pictures of birds to placate her. Otherwise, she tends to display withdrawal symptoms similar to those attempting to overcome a heroin addiction, and it's really not a pretty sight... As a matter of fact, she's doing her own blog titled "Birding and Other Chatter" (http://ocdbirder.blogspot.com/) which will probably complement my description of our trip, though hers will no doubt be a bit avian-focused, and, I suspect, will not always portray me in a complementary nor accurate manner.

Anyway, I'm tired of typing for today, so I'll sign off for now. For all of those in the Public Safety arena (and everyone else, for that matter), Stay Safe.

First things first... What's a GRYWHL?

2008-09-02T02:02:00.000-04:00

OK, before I say anything about me or this blog, I probably need to explain the title... Some of you know that My wife Laura and I are now living in our RV, and are going to be traveling in it for several months as we wander from our home of 17 years, here in Anchorage, Alaska to the Lower 48. Well, the license plate of that RV reads GRYWHL, and the photo above should make it abundantly clear why... Since I'm just figuring out this blog stuff, I'm going to leave it at that for today, but my next couple blogs will tell you a bit more about us and what I'm going to try to do with this schizophrenic and rambling diatribe...