Sweetness

Dear friends,

Alaska is EPIC - awesome, beautiful, amazing.

I'm getting picked up in about 2 minutes to go on a 2 week field trip down the Yukon River, so I don't have much time to go into it.

Sorry I haven't had time to write much or put pictures up. I've been busy, you know how it goes...

Here's a sneak peek:

Okay, I'm late I'm late I'm late.

Love,
Alice

PackBacking

Last weekend we went on our first backpacking trip in Alaska! The group consisted of 5 students in the REU (research experience for undergraduates) program, and Aria, an amazing Bear Dog. We went to Chugach State Park - only a few miles away from Anchorage. I was surprised to not see a single person in such a beautiful place so close to the city. Here's Allison, who's working on a research project about treeline ecology and global climate change, focusing on mosses and lichen, and yours truly, resting on some ridge. 

The great thing about Alaska in the summer is that you can keep hiking late into the night, without worrying about getting lost in the dark. So on Friday night, we got a ride to the trailhead at around 7 p.m., hiked over a small mountain called The Dome and set up camp in a saddle between two mountains. We sang songs and played harmonica (there may have been some whiskey involved), and then, around midnight, watched the sun dip towards the horizon, lighting Anchorage on fire in a distant valley. Aria set up a perimeter around our tents and guarded us from bears all night.

When we awoke the next morning, a fog had settled into the saddle. We could see only several feet in from of us, and finding or way to the next destination proved to be a challenge. Eventually we did find our way to Kenoya peak. Here's a photograph of us hiking on a ridge that's floating above the fog:

 

Saturday night we camped on the shore of Long Lake. I woke up to cries of seagulls. I crawled out of my tent, stiff and sore form the hike and from being crammed in between Allison and Michelle in a 2-person tent, and was astounded by the mountains' reflection in the lake.

On our hike out we saw a wolverine. The tundra was alive with tiny flowers and butterflies. We all got our boots wet crossing the south fork of the Campbell River - which flows out of Long Lake. Back in Anchorage, our research project is beginning to take shape. And I've got a million things to do until next Friday, when it's back to the mountains again.

First Impressions

It's hard to convey the sorrowful vastness of Alaska in a paragraph or a photograph (esp. when lacking in the equipment and software departments). But god knows I'm gonna try.

Icy peaks and evergreens, its beauty is jagged and it almost hurts to look too long. The effect is enhanced but not softened by the wildflowers, wildflowers - scattered everywhere. The air is fragrant.

Bizarrely illuminated for almost 24 hours a day by a white sky, its very American cities are microchasms of consumer bliss. Starbucks and McDonalds, rising like little victory flags of convenience and comfort over aesthetics and spirit, are dwarfed by the mountains whose profound integrity seems like it couldn't even begin to be threatened by such silly human meddlings. Unfortunately, we all know that isn't exactly true. Think of everything we've destroyed.


That's a snapshot on the way to a village conference of scientists, fishermen, environmentalists and native elders about an alarmingly decreasing salmon run in a local river. I think it captures the essence of what I see everyday.

I'm learning so much in so many ways, I could go on and on. But it's Friday and I need to finish some work and then... the mountains are calling.


"The World At Large"
Modest Mouse

Ice-age heat wave, can't complain.
If the world's at large, why should I remain?
Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move on to another day,
to a whole new town with a whole new way.
Went to the porch to have a thought.
Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop.
You don't know where and you don't know when.
But you still got your words and you got your friends.
Walk along to another day.
Work a little harder, work another way.

Well uh-uh baby I ain't got no plan.
We'll float on maybe would you understand?
Gonna float on maybe would you understand?
Well float on maybe would you understand?

The days get shorter and the nights get cold.
I like the autumn but this place is getting old.
I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast.
It might not be a lot but I feel like I'm making the most.
The days get longer and the nights smell green.
I guess it's not surprising but it's spring and I should leave.

I like songs about drifters - books about the same.
They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
Walked on off to another spot.
I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want.
Did I want love? Did I need to know?
Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?

The moths beat themselves to death against the lights.
Adding their breeze to the summer nights.
Outside, water like air was great.
I didn't know what I had that day.
Walk a little farther to another plan.
You said that you did, but you didn't understand.

I know that starting over is not what life's about.
But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud.

Daniel

Before heading to Alaska for the summer, I'm spending some time with my family in Oneonta, New York. One afternoon, when Daniel came home from school (he's in third grade), we scrambled up a bluff to lay in the grass and admire the sun-soaked hills. I wish I could trap moments like this, freeze the sun overhead, keep him this age forever. Alas, the day's come and gone, and I know that before I can catch my breath, so to speak, he'll be hunched over a table, paying bills or something, bags under his eyes and coffee cup clutched in hand.