tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39685971605807460202024-02-20T02:05:35.418-08:00Adventures by FootAdventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-604624248765722562020-12-02T21:17:00.001-08:002020-12-02T21:17:42.861-08:00Pandemic Country Crossing with Bike ForaysRaised on writing letters and sustained penpalling, I often express myself best when writing to those that I love. This is a letter to my chosen / adopted grandmother:<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3JTg4kzZEf0HhQsbNcKoQR5Vl_Qmsid-CdKijhg28ecyDntld4EELD3eoJPqFx3W5mA6mcAsrJI1PFFUb-W4rZ2lFRMVSvrBpVIOWscwGBeMoGgFayVld3loyDkEz1njZtzBgoCsK7M/s3264/IMG_20201127_124051.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3JTg4kzZEf0HhQsbNcKoQR5Vl_Qmsid-CdKijhg28ecyDntld4EELD3eoJPqFx3W5mA6mcAsrJI1PFFUb-W4rZ2lFRMVSvrBpVIOWscwGBeMoGgFayVld3loyDkEz1njZtzBgoCsK7M/s320/IMG_20201127_124051.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQ6ibJeG11vslpYXRX-MMCqTjDwsDptG2FnqjLa3kZpq2-gQbGEPfLp5EvB6ESg01uYc7jEuzRHsi8An7rKRhOcVHBZKNSHh9t8NGjZHgCcwN-_ZIJUiFovhU2oNaJnEdH_xZTEezTEQ/s3264/IMG_20201127_150404.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQ6ibJeG11vslpYXRX-MMCqTjDwsDptG2FnqjLa3kZpq2-gQbGEPfLp5EvB6ESg01uYc7jEuzRHsi8An7rKRhOcVHBZKNSHh9t8NGjZHgCcwN-_ZIJUiFovhU2oNaJnEdH_xZTEezTEQ/s320/IMG_20201127_150404.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDN5OLhlaMa1YOL2BAZoEWUmUFJNv3CpgxRKrJobxkJ4tZdfMURo7qB1TVbrfWGYqlXlJlYPYLHq679lBlVDdlFQsYNHiUS5haeP1jgBy7Geh69pJkcyRaCmXUybX1TDRXlo7QRQrWnY4/s4160/IMG_20201126_162336.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDN5OLhlaMa1YOL2BAZoEWUmUFJNv3CpgxRKrJobxkJ4tZdfMURo7qB1TVbrfWGYqlXlJlYPYLHq679lBlVDdlFQsYNHiUS5haeP1jgBy7Geh69pJkcyRaCmXUybX1TDRXlo7QRQrWnY4/s320/IMG_20201126_162336.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTzuwu1OwQ4zhAemdZXluEn8ICT0TdgcxGWIsbD9jsgj4aax3I4raqgEDV7tUBwM0dTQAMepp4iAyulOmAc_J9W_GP1rZg9mIUfFcgBpOqRTmJpWyU3UXUHLtmaBocL3xCFYP_q_sU2g/s4160/IMG_20201126_163310.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTzuwu1OwQ4zhAemdZXluEn8ICT0TdgcxGWIsbD9jsgj4aax3I4raqgEDV7tUBwM0dTQAMepp4iAyulOmAc_J9W_GP1rZg9mIUfFcgBpOqRTmJpWyU3UXUHLtmaBocL3xCFYP_q_sU2g/s320/IMG_20201126_163310.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO8Jy2XpSrDGeIzGIl5QGYJhAEGR-eYfnkNJH4hNbbmdyPPLXNvCcXUstTT0VuV3Qp2is1Hxw3anxAeDrZfliGImhA3nZOflHBwFOTKbcKm6INWXQDh2GxIBz2fH9H4TexKbE-RTsmMY/s4160/IMG_20201126_153225.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO8Jy2XpSrDGeIzGIl5QGYJhAEGR-eYfnkNJH4hNbbmdyPPLXNvCcXUstTT0VuV3Qp2is1Hxw3anxAeDrZfliGImhA3nZOflHBwFOTKbcKm6INWXQDh2GxIBz2fH9H4TexKbE-RTsmMY/s320/IMG_20201126_153225.jpg"/></a></div>
Turned out that my mom and I spent Thanksgiving in and around Big Bend National Park, all on our own, gobbling down an impromptu picnic by the Rio Grande. After I rode 28 bike miles to get there. My mom joined me by driving my new / old truck that I purchased in GA just before the pandemic hit the fan. So now we are in the process of driving it across the country, with enjoyment along the way. Reed has joined me along the way. We are spending the week in the high country of southern New Mexico, so that we can both finish out our semesters of teaching and learning.
I think of you daily. And am grateful for how you and Rich helped me get on this journey, of exploring, of living more fully.
I want to assure you that we are being safe and responsible. I have had zero close contact with humans other than my family since I started on this traveling a month ago. I always wear my mask when buying gas / checking into motels, buying groceries. It's surprising how little human interaction is required in this day of credit cards and key pads for checking into lodging.
We're planning to leave the truck at Reed's parents for the winter. We'll fly out of Seatac on Christmas.
That's "all the news that's fit to print."Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-80483886715806758842020-11-23T20:59:00.001-08:002020-11-23T20:59:14.690-08:00The Old South by Two WheelsImages of the south, as I experienced a reflection on my childhood from the vantage point of being 39. It's almost like a postcard of what the south looks like. In movies, on postcards, in the sensation that I get when I smell the warming of an upland pine forest. This trip, I brought my bike, a partial suspension mountain bike, straight outta Alaska, with tender innertubes and gear to keep me warm. A readjustment was in order: puncture resistant innertubes and a shedding of nearly all extemporaneous clothing.
Last week, I spent the day in Tallahassee biking a marathon distance around the FSU campus, Mission Park and then eventually ended up on the Piney Z plantation trails. These are words that are familiar to my ears, yet I saw more of the town than I had before, connecting the distinct areas in a way that both walking and biking provide. I rode into town with my mom, me driving my truck, her alongside in her nursing scrubs. We stopped at McDonald's for breakfast sandwiches and coffee and then dropped her at the hospital, and my truck to stay parked for the duration of her shift. Unload my bike, snap on my pannier and swing on my small backpack and I was ready to go. At first I rode aimlessly, in the general direction of the FSU campus, open to the route as it evolved. I was surprised by how hilly Tallahassee is, even with the highest hills only reaching 200 feet elevation. And yet, they add up. Much like the stairs in Los Angeles. I recall amassing 5k feet one day, walking the 20 mile "F" section of the Inman 300.
The temperature meant that I sweated when pounding up the hills, but the breeze and shade allowed it to dissipate when I rested and soaked in the incredible comfort of a mild climate. Tallahassee has evolved it's bikeability since I left twenty years ago. Throughout the day, I was generally comfortable riding both roads and trails, and impressed at the number of connectors and fun bike loops tucked into greenspaces. I had brought along foods for the day, and at one point I sat on a bench alongside a connector trail, eating cold sausage scramble out of a glass jar. When I finished, the sun had reached the point of encouraging sunscreen application. A couple of walkers passed, keeping good COVID distance and even a fellow cyclist. This is not a bad life, I thought, as I saw the recreation opportunities involved right wihin a city that's based around automobiles.
Right on time, my mom rolled into the Piney Z parking lot, driving my sweet red T-100 truck. We swooped up and headed out for oysters. My request. She doesn't eat raw food. Yet. And yes, I ate the whole dozen all by myself. There are a few privileges that I indulge when Reed's not around to share.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNch1dk0wwbK66wvC2uuL_mGZB6nCUWU47yUQakb69JPGjMwnEvx4Lhx__wrdxi2sTe0B_J5GlI7IvL-KMdiqGriSRx7pFqh7p_PPJ43-OSImhGIFUqveNm8ASdnAW3PvDK2FkACkf9kw/s2592/IMG_20201118_153913293.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNch1dk0wwbK66wvC2uuL_mGZB6nCUWU47yUQakb69JPGjMwnEvx4Lhx__wrdxi2sTe0B_J5GlI7IvL-KMdiqGriSRx7pFqh7p_PPJ43-OSImhGIFUqveNm8ASdnAW3PvDK2FkACkf9kw/s320/IMG_20201118_153913293.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjzEy8DA2DYTj5KeBdEQW_BH-BC-ueDGSwnqzZJnEdYr7wpGddmRpIXxKp_3WoTBegRIWEUfQP6J82gK4Hy-iUnarNNz2W5992fAuth64DW24dZzEqd35XHraFjuDUOfkfu-6dwP8n5w/s3264/IMG_20201117_143552595.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjzEy8DA2DYTj5KeBdEQW_BH-BC-ueDGSwnqzZJnEdYr7wpGddmRpIXxKp_3WoTBegRIWEUfQP6J82gK4Hy-iUnarNNz2W5992fAuth64DW24dZzEqd35XHraFjuDUOfkfu-6dwP8n5w/s320/IMG_20201117_143552595.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKmvigIyMNrDBJeOG3BfDdcnySDRMVOwI0G04DSxquC9kWe_nKJRlc2b35YZUGwBXofPlS8_uJEH9BrvpsVUl7WLqwkQ8qeO1bA0IhtkbqBEqE4DS8ioJKQCwPBo7GGIc4lWTst7hIyc/s3264/IMG_20201118_155125640_HDR.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKmvigIyMNrDBJeOG3BfDdcnySDRMVOwI0G04DSxquC9kWe_nKJRlc2b35YZUGwBXofPlS8_uJEH9BrvpsVUl7WLqwkQ8qeO1bA0IhtkbqBEqE4DS8ioJKQCwPBo7GGIc4lWTst7hIyc/s320/IMG_20201118_155125640_HDR.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFscJFqqynCPlzmzQsA-hGsHMi4wW77CoQ3MFU_A6Y_9MEJaTMc3L-aNDrVnjXTOFRsy8fpva-g2XcQquA5BDlsSX4wiqvh9Y9JXoPNkP-q9i8YXkegXeFq28Gs114UTT3vK8VWNKrnkg/s3264/IMG_20201117_172700462.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFscJFqqynCPlzmzQsA-hGsHMi4wW77CoQ3MFU_A6Y_9MEJaTMc3L-aNDrVnjXTOFRsy8fpva-g2XcQquA5BDlsSX4wiqvh9Y9JXoPNkP-q9i8YXkegXeFq28Gs114UTT3vK8VWNKrnkg/s320/IMG_20201117_172700462.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GrVGcB7gOzrZLPvz5uOWyANk3jeqQnQO_T2Dp_LEy5eJu46qI3WD2nar15CK28_wuy-TBDf2zimUg-nSxctTDXBieGzmIyKuHlP-XYO8iLFfztls0tBpP6MXWDOF7ZAGRcFE4GrZGc4/s3264/IMG_20201117_154613431.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GrVGcB7gOzrZLPvz5uOWyANk3jeqQnQO_T2Dp_LEy5eJu46qI3WD2nar15CK28_wuy-TBDf2zimUg-nSxctTDXBieGzmIyKuHlP-XYO8iLFfztls0tBpP6MXWDOF7ZAGRcFE4GrZGc4/s320/IMG_20201117_154613431.jpg"/></a></div>Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-85571313694378022772020-08-13T20:31:00.002-07:002020-08-13T20:31:43.056-07:00Will Walk for Tundra Blueberries<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzuGEWrH13xOX-_NtFtGqwyV3ZMsozOLeIn2gvAy0AEXBRe3uJFjJf6IhdTRF0xzYvf4tGJMN3iaLhBcTRTGAmcHsQIOCQ84aiL-svfUYBKYne5zmjQDvdzx4ZJMP0fnfQODuzE2rCX0/s3264/IMG_20200813_182820963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzuGEWrH13xOX-_NtFtGqwyV3ZMsozOLeIn2gvAy0AEXBRe3uJFjJf6IhdTRF0xzYvf4tGJMN3iaLhBcTRTGAmcHsQIOCQ84aiL-svfUYBKYne5zmjQDvdzx4ZJMP0fnfQODuzE2rCX0/s640/IMG_20200813_182820963.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This pot contains two Cornish game hens, two small sweet potatoes, two carrots and one large onion, plus seasonings and molasses. Let me tell you the story of how it came to be. It is a snippet into the logistics and problem solving involved in crafting meals and bringing food to rural Alaska. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It all started with the aforementioned 86 pound tote of food that I paid Alaska Airlines $100 to accept as my fourth piece of luggage on my flight from Anchorage to Nome last Monday. Reed and I drove up to Anchorage on Sunday afternoon, stopping by Fred Meyer on our way to the night's hotel stay. Sometimes I buy my food right before my flight, so that I can avoid the need for keeping my food cool in a hotel room. This time, I opted to buy the plentitude the night before. I gauged the outdoor temperature, 50 and overcast, and decided that my produce would be comfortable in the car overnight. But my meats ... the cured ones would weather just fine, but the overall fleet of foods would best be served by some frozen items during the 6+ hours between when we would leave the hotel in the morning, until I would be placing them in a fridge in Nome. I hate to waste poundage and space on ice, so I scanned the store for items that would maximize the space within the envelope-sized freezer of the hotel's mini-fridge. Cornish hens popped out at me. They are fun, somewhat exotic, tight packages that would freeze well and solid overnight. They would be the cold carriers to protect the rest of my meats. I added a few individually packaged pork chops to my cart for the same purpose. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoLiuXsShiW4M0ZnobvFkpmFsUzuXlgvTfzCmgv_keJ9hXK-vZAgZRtPbcoHU9YQOpmgilTVFNUrAcygMMeXDNWLp60C_auETegz_hrLPdySrFLd-F6jZur2FwSSCWqNm9N4A2q4Qc2Po/s3264/IMG_20200809_215731841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoLiuXsShiW4M0ZnobvFkpmFsUzuXlgvTfzCmgv_keJ9hXK-vZAgZRtPbcoHU9YQOpmgilTVFNUrAcygMMeXDNWLp60C_auETegz_hrLPdySrFLd-F6jZur2FwSSCWqNm9N4A2q4Qc2Po/s640/IMG_20200809_215731841.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now I'm living in a house with two other women, and one normal sized fridge with top-side freezer. It is blueberry season and I have spent some portion of the past 10 days harvesting them from the tundra. I spent my lunch break today behind the hospital picking into a gallon sized baggie and had to tear myself away from it to get back to work on time. These tundra blueberries are jewels of nutrients and flavor, and the window of opportunity for harvesting them will soon be over. Of course it was inevitable that I would run out of freezer space. So last night, when I struggled yet again to reorganize the cluttered, dangerous chaos of toe-crushing frozen foods, there was just no way that those hens were going back in. There were just too many slippery torpedoes in there. Out they came, and onto a plate in the fridge they went to defrost. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBn9HbbVnopEVrUDlQKMnjX49JmBZeCzO1jf-OMVJwa0ayx5Yn7nyEw_Tst0FeBVSzkTpRsYL2ij_O2TYxcQuTTQGNBeMhE7hqryRFLMXL_bJfyE-iKYWWyeLIpzhfkwm8WN5-8TKkt8/s3264/IMG_20200804_202545271_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBn9HbbVnopEVrUDlQKMnjX49JmBZeCzO1jf-OMVJwa0ayx5Yn7nyEw_Tst0FeBVSzkTpRsYL2ij_O2TYxcQuTTQGNBeMhE7hqryRFLMXL_bJfyE-iKYWWyeLIpzhfkwm8WN5-8TKkt8/s640/IMG_20200804_202545271_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tonight, I readied them in a pot, surrounded them with veggies, seasonings and closed the oven for well over an hour, while I listened to Swinging Doors and took a luxurious epsom salt bath. Out of the bath, I added the blueberries, put on a lid and closed the single pot meal back in the 350 oven. Ten minutes, and one blueberry margarita later, it was complete. Logistical challenge met, advance me to the next level! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUVQbsuRX8djMxHq2pmGvi8c0Wq21_Grp4obvn9EHn6K3TK6MOxyFh5rvFoZIJDOxNsGlYGKwA079VhcN_W9hiXK2IH3aA-tCA0VeVPcui6CLqTrJVem20QIn75jQaomEnjgRoPZ-NlI/s3264/IMG_20200805_102119749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUVQbsuRX8djMxHq2pmGvi8c0Wq21_Grp4obvn9EHn6K3TK6MOxyFh5rvFoZIJDOxNsGlYGKwA079VhcN_W9hiXK2IH3aA-tCA0VeVPcui6CLqTrJVem20QIn75jQaomEnjgRoPZ-NlI/s640/IMG_20200805_102119749.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> <p></p>Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-46523027630990591062020-08-12T16:40:00.003-07:002020-08-12T21:16:11.539-07:00Fading Summer on the Road System of Nome: Logistics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SEnewdnAAbHO9pEcv6ksYMwWpoyOxc45wzEFxqfV8w4RagKc0INQ4N6CNDv-9apQTMneYZzcPbaPYDBMYOWk6uLTZMrDZ90OG1YsFGY6MSp6y-s7NVGZ2IgLbu6BKUITMllpJnC_mP8/s2592/IMG_20200807_170322792.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SEnewdnAAbHO9pEcv6ksYMwWpoyOxc45wzEFxqfV8w4RagKc0INQ4N6CNDv-9apQTMneYZzcPbaPYDBMYOWk6uLTZMrDZ90OG1YsFGY6MSp6y-s7NVGZ2IgLbu6BKUITMllpJnC_mP8/s640/IMG_20200807_170322792.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOLBDPI775ousKQkvUlhhi-oo4j2CL0b5XGszIHbGPbDJtKophbsnjmAsXAyRbFtuS39HR3a2zyMbjovcc6iaWJbqC0vXaP563L3EaUKJW7FFVRem8nAcRi_gIXNwDDmeTv9yPJSvrAIc/s640/IMG_20200809_215629174_BURST000_COVER_TOP.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blueberry season<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Logistics are one of my fortes. It's how my brain works, figuring out how things work, how they fit together. In this instance, I am referencing making a temporary move to rural Alaska, to live in company-provided housing in the medical industry. Thanks to Alaska Airlines and their in state reward program, called "Club 49," I am granted three pieces of luggage (up to 50 lbs each) when I fly within the state. From a long distance hiker's point of view, 150 pounds is a ridiculous amount of weight, an impossible amount to carry. I learned to live off of 35 pounds for a week at a time, then resupply on food when I passed through town. However, when it comes to relocating to an unknown living situation, the requirements of work clothes and quarantine food necessities and the high price of food in rural Alaska, the 150 pounds must be allocated carefully. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQLS1e2FPreORi3YCRkeeaEiMm-hxTwbMp788hk_HtAJTeMCeis352OJftk6WBnNIQOD49qMIeGXllsL9MgultlB3Anx7jw0sXKx_IFsqPxNeWYAS5zSUQ9qrPraKNowTjHtXX-10lA1o/s640/IMG_20200809_220519620.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Norton Sound Hospital visible in far left corner<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>This time I decided to bring my bike, so that counted as one of my items. Reed carefully packed it into the bike box, tying the removed front wheel to the middle of the frame, placing the pedals and bike seat into rags and plastic bags alongside the frame. This was the fourth time it's been dismantled this summer, so we've both gotten practice. Reed figured a clever way to slide the box into our vehicle, standing up in the rear of the car, on top of the downturned back seat. The fitting the items into the vehicle is yet another piece to the puzzle of flying out to rural Alaska. First step is always to get from Seward to Anchorage, a 2-1/2 hour drive, and often, an overnight's stay in a hotel room before departing. </p><p>Next up - work clothes, warm clothes, exercise clothes, berry picking and tundra strolling clothes, sneakers, xtra tuff boots, sleep wear, enough socks and underwear to go for 8 days to be prepared for an indeterminate laundry situation. In this same tote, I pack my toiletries, including medications for at least a month, creature comforts like epsom salt, my own washcloth and pillowcase, a small throw blanket, a few photos and cards, letter-writing materials, reading materials, my laptop, back-up battery and chargers. I knew that I was proceeding into a week's quarantine, during which I would need to keep myself engaged and learning. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxyycCwnnYpjRoLHQnz_XzMp3ammOeIRTfUbXDMdkpBGp88poDBNBEIq7IuCfObmJIXIb2nLo4Y4Sm33VyF4DBcfPloTClq-LuZSDXBCtfnmlR9nBb4fQoDZ80dRu0qGZyGhyphenhyphenIevDPHk/s3264/IMG_20200807_213621267.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxyycCwnnYpjRoLHQnz_XzMp3ammOeIRTfUbXDMdkpBGp88poDBNBEIq7IuCfObmJIXIb2nLo4Y4Sm33VyF4DBcfPloTClq-LuZSDXBCtfnmlR9nBb4fQoDZ80dRu0qGZyGhyphenhyphenIevDPHk/s640/IMG_20200807_213621267.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High above Nome, where musk oxen and the wind live</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>Final tote: foods that travel well. As it turned out, I ended up packing two of these. I just could not get all my other needed items into one tote, so they spilled over and didn't leave enough room for all the foods that I would be needing. I did some figuring, called the grocery store in Nome to price out a few items, recalled the price of foods when I had briefly visited their AC Grocery back in March and chose to pay the $100 for one over weight item. This allowed me to go big at the grocery store, and buy 2 weeks worth of food for ~ $240, plus the $100 shipping cost. In rural Alaska, produce is especially valuable, so I remembered to focus on bringing these items with me. I packed hard squash, sweet and white potatoes, onions, celery, carrots, cheeses, cured meats and pantry items into an 86 pound dark blue tote as both an investment and an insurance policy.<img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaoMl7j5LJgkNIDiCfzyco0Zs89ahqY_onKq21luE_31EwDWRnYfCvRWK1i-Sf-1_APzElc10f-ipDplDi_vtLfa0emO3VLmH5KE7WexPRsWc8bQPl2vbJqzdZffu9oBOhr2WVRus3d_o/w800-h600/IMG_20200808_155731083.jpg" width="800" /></p><p>Now that I'm out here in Nome, I only wish that I had brought more. The dealing with luggage items gets overwhelming. The necessity of actually physically moving them around means there are real limits, even with luggage carts, a car, and Reed's help. I have now been here ten days, have eaten well and still have frozen meats and a drawer of produce, so I did ok. I've been able to clothe myself appropriately for 120 miles of bike riding, berry picking on the tundra, work days, sleeping warm and being comfortable during quarantine. I've had ample reading and writing material, and thanks to internet in our company housing, I've been able to use my laptop to do insanity workouts, write, read articles and do research. It's a glorious place out here. The weather is already quickly turning to autumn colors and the temperatures are falling into the 40s. I have learned much about preparing for various situations, maxing out advantages of what to bring vs what to go without. And still, the most crucial thing has been flexibility, openness and the ability to self-motivate and take advantage of what is available in each place. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6lsYu6xN_hZlPJw3mv0CMkx01naSD5Bsw6aFyL28sgyuZtxwGhyphenhyphen3h6UBgtoQCTeKPfSGETMcBNKy6Hk3lWiMF2kMjwLIN6xUGpEYLG5OS1mFfHsSaBG7YGiGKSFqlSnF6zuG2lINfoFA/s3264/IMG_20200807_204911140.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6lsYu6xN_hZlPJw3mv0CMkx01naSD5Bsw6aFyL28sgyuZtxwGhyphenhyphen3h6UBgtoQCTeKPfSGETMcBNKy6Hk3lWiMF2kMjwLIN6xUGpEYLG5OS1mFfHsSaBG7YGiGKSFqlSnF6zuG2lINfoFA/w600-h800/IMG_20200807_204911140.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The density of the tundra plant life amazes me</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-61625756028929724662020-08-09T20:18:00.000-07:002020-08-09T20:18:12.020-07:00All The Way to Safety<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yZ6eJiK4PSfUYaeRSKngPLgl8Xb8f6DH0O1ZDpUSpSYUYcaGiEXucrxg9-JmENM1JheHNLtJMNJIqfCuiFk8uTCDFDG3I2opbFr_d3bLpoSMxMWDu5BnG5DzWlLTfcaGEa9Zi83D908/s2592/IMG_20200805_195936885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yZ6eJiK4PSfUYaeRSKngPLgl8Xb8f6DH0O1ZDpUSpSYUYcaGiEXucrxg9-JmENM1JheHNLtJMNJIqfCuiFk8uTCDFDG3I2opbFr_d3bLpoSMxMWDu5BnG5DzWlLTfcaGEa9Zi83D908/s640/IMG_20200805_195936885.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A glorious bridge crosses over the outflow of fresh and brackish water into the Bering Sea</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>This is the year of lemonade and loss, and of somehow reemerging in new states every month of the year. I was counting last week, and this year I've done 7 lifestyles thus far. And it's August. Now I'm in Nome, at the tail end of my week long quarantine to start a job at Norton Sound Hospital. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMPsOfUmZgroe1N005vu7H0FlqPhY7caz-VPLTBFbSJdMLZG7-Rm8eYDj3zKbRDE_FtCt3OVcLSDXhg3VJqOhEXJDtWCu33BP9JIkMJ-uSCxfyzIrfIkbGbRBaJ5SMjRV-jfkQkbWZ6g/s3264/IMG_20200805_210222060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMPsOfUmZgroe1N005vu7H0FlqPhY7caz-VPLTBFbSJdMLZG7-Rm8eYDj3zKbRDE_FtCt3OVcLSDXhg3VJqOhEXJDtWCu33BP9JIkMJ-uSCxfyzIrfIkbGbRBaJ5SMjRV-jfkQkbWZ6g/s640/IMG_20200805_210222060.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bering Sea waterfront near Safety Sound</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>Yes, quarantine means being away from other human beings, and yes, I am a social being. So there is hardship. But even more, this week has been an opportunity to explore the outdoor world and grandeur of this terribly interesting place. Fortunately, Reed helped me pack my bike into a box, Alaska airlines let me bring it with me as one of my three allowed luggage items and the quarantine rules allow for long bike rides away from other humans. </p><p>I went twenty miles out along the Nome-Council Highway. My hospital-provided housing has a hiding place under the entryway stairs, so I grabbed my bike, suited up and set out. What glory to be in a place with a road system, but that isn't connected to the main Alaska road system. The places that meet that description really are the best places to have a mountain bike with a front wheel suspension. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1haNauTxVrcfZYyRCC69SM0fCw4kU1xXyhY3LXKRT89ZOivHEVKGpAyXeaALfImQQL2KGHykJC-B0VD7Oag3cdrMdukD-4kjOscIjLxAWuOF4HkkNWjloY6rzZ2uIRQmhzKwNqPlE9w/s3264/IMG_20200805_182436970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1haNauTxVrcfZYyRCC69SM0fCw4kU1xXyhY3LXKRT89ZOivHEVKGpAyXeaALfImQQL2KGHykJC-B0VD7Oag3cdrMdukD-4kjOscIjLxAWuOF4HkkNWjloY6rzZ2uIRQmhzKwNqPlE9w/s640/IMG_20200805_182436970.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highway gravel tread and huge vistas along the Council Highway<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>I had two picnics, of foods that I brought along, stopped to pick blueberries in a marshy tundra section, and lay on the dry tundra adjacent to a lake, listening to ducks and geese belting out sounds that I hadn't heard before. There is much land to lie upon, many plants to smell and observe. This is the best lemonade of multiple job losses. How fortunate am I to be here! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EqxeGNwXomYHi6U17OjEYIAxHB3UBqLyTXI40adqybMhFN9LUr_pHijn0PlHRYPa5nRKc2PjCsOY4bMc1Dwfn6WS3Oax_I3xrm17-fYt1q4dZzGdsTDTOjx-w4082LqrYwcxj8zE8Qg/s3264/IMG_20200805_185625523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EqxeGNwXomYHi6U17OjEYIAxHB3UBqLyTXI40adqybMhFN9LUr_pHijn0PlHRYPa5nRKc2PjCsOY4bMc1Dwfn6WS3Oax_I3xrm17-fYt1q4dZzGdsTDTOjx-w4082LqrYwcxj8zE8Qg/s640/IMG_20200805_185625523.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An unexpected and joyous find in rural Alaska</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>Last night I watched "The Prize Winner of Defiance." The mother in the film characterized so many of the qualities that my own mother embodies. I wrote the following email to my mom, after my tears had run their course. </p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Hey Mom ~ </span></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Just got done watching this movie, entitled "The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio." </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v%3DGpMwZ0JULx8&source=gmail&ust=1597044812750000&usg=AFQjCNGIIRKN12OKAsZz81yt4hphTjojPQ" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpMwZ0JULx8" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=GpMwZ0JULx8</a><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The main character, played by Julianne Moore reminds me of you. Her cheery optimism, her focus on the now, on the enjoyment of the moment, in spite of the bigger picture of struggle. She fights so hard for her family. She perseveres in the midst of constant struggle and undermining by her husband. She is a realist and also a constant source of joy, perspective and uplift for her children. Those are all things that are true about you. We are fortunate to have you. </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Love, Kelley ~ </div><p><br /></p><p>And that is all I have to say on this Sunday evening, the night before I start my new job. </p><p><br /><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-50159211183818888222018-03-02T08:33:00.000-08:002018-03-02T08:45:17.966-08:00'Backcountry' Camping at White Sands Under the Moon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Earlier this week, we spent a night beneath the waxing moon at White Sands National Monument. The park provides 10 walk-in spots set amongst the gypsum sand dunes, spaced around a 2 mile loop. At 4pm, the wind was howling through the dunes at 25 mph. We waited in our rental car, listening to the Trail Show. As the afternoon faded, the winds slowed. At 5:30 we began our ~ 1 mile walk across white sand piled tightly into dunes. Aside from the wind, which was still blowing at 10-15mph, the walking was easy. By 6pm, we had arrived at the #5 pole, which marked our spot. We struggled against the powerful wind to set up our tent, taking turns lying atop the fabrics while we drove the stakes into the dense sand. By the time we got the rain fly onto the tent, the inside floor contained a cup of fine white sand. It reminded me of camping at Cape San Blas State Park in Florida during my childhood. "There are buckets of sand in this tent," my mom used to say.<br />
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The night started off chilly. The thermometer at the start of the trail had read 48 degrees Fahrenheit. As the night proceeded, the winds subsided, the temperature dropped below freezing and the moon rose large overhead. Well after dark, we came back to life, exiting the tent to walk around beneath the Moon's glow. It was glorious, the moonlight gleaming against the white dunes, small twinkling frost glistening on the sand, thanks to a light rain shower earlier in the evening. Like kids, we climbed the dunes & jumped, scooted and propelled ourselves back down them, the sand quickly filling our shoes to overflowing. My heart beat rapidly, my body warm from the exertion of dragging heavy feet up the slippery slopes.</blockquote>
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Those are the moments, the experiences & memories that make the discomfort worth it. I didn't get a solid night's sleep. It was too cold, I was agitated & itchy from the sand and I just couldn't sleep soundly. But the next morning we woke to a glittering ceiling of frost and a world surrounded by open white sand.<br />
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<br />Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-55213627530142747562018-02-25T07:20:00.001-08:002018-02-25T07:48:48.350-08:00At Silver City: Mile 160 Unlocked on the CDT<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Continental Divide along highway 180</td></tr>
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We made it to Silver City yesterday afternoon after hiking 13+ miles along highway 180, in addition to the dirt road miles that came before. The temperatures have been cooler than we expected, with our water bottles transforming to slushy ice during the nights. The miles have been beautiful, and surprisingly tough. The elevation profiles suggested that it would be smooth sailing. Instead, the incessant wind, 40 degree days & repeated ups & downs challenged our bodies to adapt. I did still love the hiking, but I thought that I would feel strong & robust by now. Instead, my face is Ruddy from wind burn & my whole body aches with muscle growth(I hope!) And soreness.<br />
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We've hiked 161 miles of the southern New Mexico Continental Divide Trail, over the course of 10 days. It's looking like this may be the end of our hike for this month. We'd like to hike farther, but the weather conditions & logistics of getting back to Albuquerque in time for our flight would make it difficult. I wish we had more time!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View to the north from a ridge near Burro Mountain</td></tr>
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In the desert coming out of Lordsburg, we hiked along behind a herd of antelope for two miles. At the time, I was suffering with a migraine & its strange visual effects. Following the antelope created a sense of wonder that allowed me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Later, we saw our first coyote, after hearing their yelps & yaps each of the previous days. It was amazing how quickly it could recede from visibility when not moving. That same day, we saw hundreds of javelina prints, but never did get to see the live animals.<br />
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This trail is tough, in a different way than the Arizona Trail (AZT). The trail tread is rougher and less defined, meaning that for many of the wide open desert miles, we progressed from one sign to the next, each spaces 400 yards to 1/2 mile apart. There wasn't an obvious trail between the signs. Other times, no signs we're visible, so we proceeded in the general direction until one became visible. The other major difference is the number of trail users. In Arizona, there were other long distance hikers, as well as day users. In these 160 miles, we have encountered zero other users on the trail. The posh amenities that appeared at intervals on the AZT, such as Trailhead pit toilets & trash cans do not exist here. Even flowing water is far more rare. Cattle tanks are spaced farther apart, meaning water carries are longer. Writing these differences helps me understand why we're wore out & feel like less of a weakling.<br />
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It's been glorious to be out here. All the difficulties & all of the beauties, I love you. Many thanks to Reed, who has become a competent long distance hiker & an excellent trail companion.Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-88545678619924232832018-02-19T18:11:00.000-08:002018-02-19T19:25:38.437-08:00Adapting to the Desert on the CDT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On Thursday, we got dropped off deep in the desert of southern New Mexico. Many thanks to Leslie & Tanya for driving us, especially those last 33 miles over rough roads. Left at the border, we ate spam & cheese sandwiches with chili cheese fritos. Then we began to walk, my excitement at actually being on the trail making that first days 14 miles seem easy. </div>
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We walked for 5 days through rough desert, feeling grateful to be doing so in 50 degree weather. On the afternoon of day two, fog turned quickly to a squall with beating rain & charging wind. We had not prepared for pouring rain, and by the time we found a safe place to erect our tent, much of our gear was sopping wet, including one of the sleeping bags. Fortunately, one was dry, and we had two emergency blankets with us. We made it through the night with minor suffering & mostly warm. It took most of the next two days to get that sleeping bag dry, just in time for last night's steady rain & wind. </div>
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The desert is such a different place when covered in fog & rain clouds. We've enjoyed such gorgeous days and delighted in a couple of glorious sunrises. The coyotes, birds & jack rabbits seem excited by the weather, each of them darting around, the coyotes yipping us awake each morning. </div>
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This afternoon we walked into Lordsburg & promptly got a room at the Econo Lodge. We are loving the comforts: shower, toilet, trash can, restaurant. Our bodies are struggling to adapt to the new demands we're placing on them. We're wore out, yet grateful for the time & resources to be out here. </div>
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<br />Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-84955994691922883402018-02-12T13:43:00.001-08:002018-02-12T13:43:44.364-08:00To Southern New Mexico: Our Logistics Good Luck Continues<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Mexico, Land of Enchantment has the most lovely license plates I've seen. </td></tr>
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We boarded a luxurious Greyhound bus in Albuquerque this morning well before sunrise, waking at 3am to a silent hostel of sleeping travelers. We quickly packed our bags and shared a chicken salad sandwich we'd purchased the night before at a nearby market. After sleeping only little and lightly, we had both awoken easily. Amid silent streets, we walked the 0.8 miles to the Amtrak & Greyhound station, grateful for our layers of fleece which held back the chilly air.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful mosaics adorned Albuquerque</td></tr>
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Despite the early hour, the station filled with a cross section of travelers. We boarded with 10 others the bus coming from Denver and bound for Las Cruces. Once onboard, we gratefully fell to sleep, wedging our bodies against one another & the seats to create just enough comfort for sleep to be possible.</div>
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We had planned to spend a night in Las Cruces, based solely on logistical necessity. Even though we arrived by 8:30am, the westbound Greyhound connection had already departed for the day. Research ahead of time meant this information wasn't a surprise, but it was still disappointing. Worse was the fact that the nearest lodging was 5 miles away. Bleary eyed as we disembarked the early morning bus, we didn't know what to do, or in which direction to proceed. One of the practices we've adopted over the years helped us address this quandary. The practice is based on being legitimately lost in the woods, but applied well to this situation as well. It goes like this - when it's unclear which is the correct direction to proceed, stay put, drink water, eat something & only then pull the maps back out to consult. Fortunately for us, there was a lovely Mexican restaurant adjacent to the bus drop off, Chachi's, where we gratefully consumed huevos con chorizo and a custom avocado, egg & cheese breakfast burrito. </div>
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Breakfast nourishment encouraged us to start walking the 5 miles to town. After all, walking is why we came to New Mexico. About 2 miles into the walk, a retired couple on their way out to breakfast in town offered us a ride into town. Isaac & Tilly had lived in the area since 1968, with his work for NASA also taking them to Florida & California. They mentioned that there was another bus company, El Paso Limosine, that also provides service to Lordsburg, our desired destination. All within an hour time, we had gone from being lost, resigned to spending an unwanted night in Las Cruces, to being dropped off right at the bus station with an upcoming departure at 11am. There were two principles at play in this encounter that astounded me. First, it helps to get physically closer to where one is desiring to go. From Seattle, the logistics of getting to the start of the Continental Divide Trail southern terminus were overwhelming & unfigurable, despite research. It took faith & past experience of success to be willing to just keep taking the next step. The other principle is one that Reed & I talk about each time we plan a trip with many logistics. It involves a tremendous amount of chaos & unknown. No matter how well we plan, the last couple of days before getting on trail end up presenting chaos & usually, surprising resolutions to the chaos. I don't think that chaos is indicative that resolution will follow, but it almost seems that it is a necessary step in the process.</div>
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So, here we are, sitting at McDonald's in Lordsburg, having just finished an m&m Mcflurry. It's 2:15, the motel where we'll stay, and hopefully sleep tonight, is just 1/2 mile away. The plan for this afternoon is to take naps, buy and package foods & lounge in preparation for tomorrow. But, wouldn't you know it, we were finally able to arrange a shuttle to Crazy Cook monument while sitting at the bus depot in Las Cruces. That's exactly where we've been hoping we'd be able to start the hike, but the logistics of it required a shuttle. Take one step & the next step in the path will appear. </div>
Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-1514245023871185212018-02-10T22:06:00.000-08:002018-02-11T12:30:12.107-08:00We've Made It to New Mexico: The Joy of Walking Straight from the Airport<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21CqY80atS9b6UyJune12DwDCIps5ssO_Pj2yrm6Nw-V9_-cezEyExVP-GXs4PntTK3WDSzPSy36OVGeX0VUYqqjG5p7xdBelCSu2lh2WKGack0fptTu4jgA-MsOZwK7VYo-HTr10q5E/s1600/IMG_20180211_132548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21CqY80atS9b6UyJune12DwDCIps5ssO_Pj2yrm6Nw-V9_-cezEyExVP-GXs4PntTK3WDSzPSy36OVGeX0VUYqqjG5p7xdBelCSu2lh2WKGack0fptTu4jgA-MsOZwK7VYo-HTr10q5E/s640/IMG_20180211_132548.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Albuquerque's characteristic rock & rough plant landscaping with the Sandia mountains on the distant horizon. </td></tr>
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Tonight we finally made it to our vacation! We'd been attempting since January 30th to depart Seattle, our layover between Alaska & a winter hiking destination, but my stress & strain caused health problems delayed us these 11 days. At last, here we are!<br />
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There's nothing quite like deprivation to nurture appreciation. In my particular case, 8 days of nausea & vomiting has made me all the more grateful for foods that nourish me & stay down! And being unable to travel made me jubilant when we successfully left the ground in Seattle earlier today. We enjoyed a two hour layover at John Wayne Airport in Orange County, during which I lounged on the carpet near a display Audi and we drank copious amounts of water, understanding anew how fortunate we are with our direct-from-faucet water quality in Seward. At the end of two hours, we obediently boarded our next flight, bound for Albuquerque and congratulated ourselves for getting one step closer to getting on the trail. </div>
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Touchdown in Albuquerque came with extra excitement due to 30 mph cross winds. The pilot had cautioned us that we might not be able to land and that the plan B was to take us to San Diego. Fortunately, he landed the plane successfully and we were on the ground, bags in hand by 8:15pm. Even so, the City busses were finished for the day. We could have taken a taxi, or some version there of, but I was eager to walk, and we were prepared to do so, as our luggage was backpacks. </div>
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Outdoors, the temperature was a luxurious 60 degrees, as later related to us by a bank thermostat. We walked out of the airport complex and through the suburban developments surrounding it. We jaunted past restaurants and car repair stores, through underpasses and amidst eye watering winds. It was glorious. The joy of walking filled my spirit. I felt alive again, something I desperately needed to recover my usual enthusiasm. Being bed and house bound had taught me anew how fortunate I am to have an amazing husband and caring family and friends. It also stifled my spirit, because I love to be going, moving, doing. </div>
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About 2.5 miles into our 5 mile walk to our lodgings, we stumbled upon the perfect restaurant for us. We stowed our backpacks and ordered a hearty meal of pozole stew and Al pastor burrito. The items came with unlimited trips to the salsa bar and we partook heartily of radishes, green salsa, pickled carrots and sliced jalapenos. The winter Olympic figure skaters entertained us while we ate our fill. Afterwards, we walked on through urban Albuquerque and I felt at peace, content to be on the trail, moving forward. How fortunate we are!<br />
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Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-27722681167294151452018-02-04T22:02:00.002-08:002018-02-04T22:02:45.299-08:00One Adventure Not Intended<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moss Growing in Lord Hill Regional Park</td></tr>
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Our intention was to end up in a warm place, somewhere we could paddle and hike. Thus far, we haven't made it there. Instead, we're in Seattle, which was intended to be our in-between stopover on the way south from Alaska. The story of what happened is long and unpleasant, but the upshot is that we are fortunate to have kind and generous friends and family all around the puget Sound. A number of them have taken us in, offered us food and shelter while I recover from my sickness. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hooray for hiking with my niece, Amelia</td></tr>
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On Tuesday morning, just before our scheduled airplane departure, I was struck with a debilitating headache and nausea. I ended up spending an inordinate amount of time in a few different Seatac Airport family restrooms, losing all the calories that I had consumed, and then some. It's taken a number of days, and a visit to a doctor and the Swedish Cherry Hill Emergency Room to figure out what was going on with me. It seems that I am experiencing midlife onset of severe migraines. The good news is that I didn't have a brain bleed, nor do I have a tumor. But I have been sick and mostly in bed for seven days now. During that time, I have learned anew of the superb care and concern that my husband has for me. I've learned how devoted my married family is to caring for me. And I've learned that Alaska Airlines is who I want to fly with for all future travel. Their "distressed passenger' services were superb. </div>
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Prior to my sickness setting in, we had six days in Seattle of fun times visiting friends and family. A big perk was hiking in Lord Hill Regional Park with my niece, Amelia. I was honored when she asked me to take her hiking. We got to explore the park's trails, interpret the maps to the landscape and smell the rain soaked air. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful shrubbery in residential Seattle, WA</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Puget Sound from Edmonds, Washington</td></tr>
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Back in the big city of Seattle, we walked around the gorgeous neighborhood of Seward Park, admiring the landscape and the perfectness of the majority of the houses. Our neighborhoods in Seward, Alaska shares so little in common with these manicured lawns and homes. Alaska is all about functionality and storing one's toys and tools. Our own yard has stacks of plywood, a trailer, and a big stack of paving stones, awaiting spring to be laid back out in the yard. Seattle, on the other hand, presents beautiful neighborhoods of gorgeous landscape and homes. It was delightful to the eyes to walk around the neighborhood. </div>
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We're now reconfiguring, awaiting the healing of my mind and body. Soon, I hope, we'll have a new plan for this month. We are full of ideas and hopes, but it at this point, I can't travel anywhere until I'm much better. Even being able to write on the computer has been a long time coming. For seven days now I've been wanting to write. I'm thankful that I'm finally able to do so. Here's to tomorrow being brighter and healthier!<br /><div>
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Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-59584823544443431242018-01-17T22:49:00.000-08:002018-01-17T23:00:57.905-08:00How We Prepare for AdventuresWe are home in Seward, Alaska, in our tiny home this week. It's our final week before going "under way" (a term I've picked up from our Coast Guard friends). The lead up to adventures has become a pattern for us, but one that we're still attempting to master. There are so many things to do before leaving our day-to-day world. So many details to take care of, and think about. For instance, in order to pay our health insurance premiums in a timely fashion, I needed to set up auto-payments online. This required me creating an account. The whole process took about an hour. All to save us having to think about this while we're out hiking and paddling through lands in a warmer climate. These are the details that people who want to get away from normal life need to attend to beforehand. The alternative is spending precious "on trail" time in towns, sorting out things that one forgot or chose not to deal with ahead of time. These are the not-glamorous things. With just one week leading up to being away for six weeks, we are working our final shifts, sorting our belongings and beginning to choose which items to bring along. This is the time for logistics.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our home sits at the base of this trail, The Mount Marathon Jeep Trail. Views of Resurrection Bay all the way out to the Gulf of Alaska rewards folks who make the 400 foot climb via 7 switch backs. </td></tr>
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Tomorrow I'll work my final shift at my CNA job. On Sunday I'll host our final run group. On Monday, we'll attend our final City Council meeting. And in between these regular commitments, the very structure of our normal life, we will eat up the final foods in our fridge, empty our house of our personal belongings and put our life here in Seward on hold. Things don't ever stop when people are away, only our participation in them.<br />
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It's always a delight and a struggle for me to disentangle. There are two parts to me. These two parts are in constant tension. I want to build and foster strong relationships and ties to my home place. And I want to be on the road, and on the trail, moving, ever forward. Seward's culture and economy have allowed us to build a life that allows and supports both aspects of myself. For that I am grateful.Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-36765852117310483202017-09-21T15:25:00.000-07:002017-09-21T18:00:08.311-07:00Out to Caines Head: By Paddle and By Foot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poised at South Beach on Lowell Point, ready to begin our paddle out to Caines Head</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Last week, we had the chance to paddle and hike out to Caines Head State Recreation Area. Our friend, Rachel, from Tallahassee, Florida was visiting for the week and we were able to include two other visitors from the south into the adventure. We used our 18 foot tandem kayak for two of us, and the other three walked out. This allowed us to bring more supplies than we could have / would have carried on our backs, to enjoy the view from the water and gave me a respite from walking the whole way, as I continue to rehabilitate my foot after breaking my fifth metatarsal back in July of this year. We started from South Beach on Lowell Point, three walking the Tonsina Trail, and two of us paddling out to the same beach just south of Tonsina Point. We switched around paddlers at that point and continued out into Resurrection Bay. The day was gloriously precipitation-free and we enjoyed the grandeur that surrounded us. The crucial part about going out to Caines Head is to time the tides right. The last 3 miles out to the cabin is located on the beach, and thus requires a 2.0 or lower foot tide to be above the water line. The low tide was to be at 6:11pm, so we wanted to be walking about an hour before and after that time, to allow us the maximum safety. We did have a back up plan of using the kayak to ferry us around the "pinch points" if necessary, but that would have been annoying and time consuming. Fortunately, that was not necessary.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyqKADFrpmMH-cPoMi-RUzRVwKv4EYQdp5DvHVT5ETqaI_jZl9fjsKJkzfjeZ5G1l_tBIn2qSOMqzjNFoJMgsTE4HH4dBj7_4go6c_ZYFe1K4xCkJgqiq_9zxM9QPcxH4AReeVS4tYso/s1600/IMG-2351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyqKADFrpmMH-cPoMi-RUzRVwKv4EYQdp5DvHVT5ETqaI_jZl9fjsKJkzfjeZ5G1l_tBIn2qSOMqzjNFoJMgsTE4HH4dBj7_4go6c_ZYFe1K4xCkJgqiq_9zxM9QPcxH4AReeVS4tYso/s320/IMG-2351.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Derby Cove cabin, set amidst a rain forest</td></tr>
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Upon arrival at Derby Cove, we were amazed at the beauty of the rain forest. The cabin was built on pilings because the ground beneath it was a sopping mess of constant run off. The inside was dry and cozy and smelled faintly of past wood smoke. Lovely! We enjoyed our evening by paddling around the area, going around the rocks to get to the old dock pilings from Fort McGilvry, which was built and staffed during World War 2, to protect Alaska from Japanese attack. We cooked food on our Svea Stove, outside on the metal plate that's part of the counter surface on the front deck. Such a lovely and easy to use set up. We played a board game, read the cabin log book and drifted into deep sleep amidst the darkness.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening sunlight with view across Resurrection Bay, while sitting on the beach at Derby Cove</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remains of the WW2 Fort</td></tr>
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The next mid day, after consuming a couple of rounds of various foods that we considered breakfast / lunch, we packed up our belongings and set off to hike to the old fort ruins. It was up and down on quite good trail, particularly because we were wearing our xtra tuffs, which protected our feet from the sloppy mud and roots. After half a mile, we found a trail sign that indicated we had made no progress in the day's mileage. 2.5 miles to the fort, still. The scenery was gorgeous, even in the constant trickling rain. On we continued until we got to the super creepy remains of the fort, with an assortment of buildings tucked into the rocky soils. Reed and Rachel loved walking inside of these old structures.We were fortunate to enjoy a break in the rain while eating our snacks at the tip top of the fort area. Porcupine Glacier, across the bay was resplendent in the low light. We wanted to press on, or at least I did, but chose to begin our trek back, because there were many miles to go to get back to Seward, about 7, I think.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All a normal part of our ecosystem: chum salmon spawned out at Caines Head</td></tr>
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Later that evening, back in Seward, we turned the Toyo stove on, fired up our propane home stove and delighted in eating hot soup with cheese toast. Yum! A lovely way to finish up a fantastic outing, and one that's located only a few miles from our home. How fortunate we are! <br />
<br />Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-34179428355132317802017-09-11T01:30:00.001-07:002017-09-11T01:30:15.033-07:00Autumn Rainforest Hiking on the Kenai Peninsula with a mostly healed foot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking in hard soled shoes</td></tr>
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<br />I've spent most of this summer on my couch, healing from a broken fifth metatarsal, a very minor injury that caused a tremendous amount of suffering and waiting for my whole body and mind. Finally, on September 1st, I got the pins removed and permission from the surgeon to begin putting weight on my right foot again. My immediate reaction was one of liberation, but in the days that followed, rather than jubilation, I felt myself sinking back into discouragement. My summer mood, which is generally optimistic and joyful, had suffered from lack of physical activity, purpose and employment. Even the removal of the pins couldn't take away the fact that summer was now over, and my muscles were shadows of their former selves. I needed to get out on the trails as soon as possible, to rebuild my muscles, tendons and, most importantly, my mental health.<br /><div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelley with Grayling Lake</td></tr>
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Last week, on dreary Thursday afternoon, I forced myself out of the house and on a drive to a trailhead, despite my mental distaste for driving anywhere for the purposes of walking. We live in downtown Seward, just one block from the base of the Jeep Trail, which ascends Mount Marathon, which makes it difficult to justify driving to a different trailhead. In any case, I wanted to see Grayling Lake, and I set off driving out of town on the only highway we have, the Seward Highway. My destination was just 13 miles from home, a small parking lot for the trailhead to Grayling Lake. I parked the old junker Rodeo that we drive, leaving the doors unlocked, and throwing on my small running backpack. I was wearing my grey dress clogs, per my doctor's instruction that I wear hard soled shoes to protect my foot against rocks and roots. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The forest floor</td></tr>
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The trail was lovely gravel for the first 200 meters, but soon after crossing the railroad tracks, it turned to slop. It's been raining in and around Seward for nearly a month, and the soils are saturated. Early on, I tried to avoid the slop, but quickly decided it was useless and instead plunged right through deep puddles and mud. The liquid felt icy cold, likely 50 degrees, same as the air temperature. I plodded along slowly and carefully, fully aware of how easily I could reinsure myself. The trail took me through a lush coastal rainforest, moss coating and dripping from nearly every tree. The ground away from the trail was coated in mosses and lichens, mushrooms blossoming through the soft carpet. Blueberry bushes, with the tail end of this year's crop accompanied me along much of the route. Steadily up I climbed, gentle elevation gain that was good for regrowing my calf muscles. And suddenly I was there, at the lake, and feeling accomplished for being able to walk the 1.4 miles to get myself to my destination. The trail continued, and I wanted to follow it. But I reminded myself that I still had to get out, and that I needed to be cautious about how much I push myself. So I thanked my body for taking me safely thus far, and I walked back out, admiring the variety of mushrooms and the greenness of the other vegetation. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail in autumn </td></tr>
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Back at my car, it was still raining, the size of the drops increasing. I felt different, a bit better, and grateful that such a trail, with its accompanying forest and habitat is so easily reachable for me. Later that evening I would go to work at my new job, my legs and whole body sore and weary from the day's walk. I found the sensations of discomfort reassuring, proof that I am regrowing my body, and with it, my spirit will hopefully rebound as well.<br /><div>
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Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-56634251401208027492017-05-03T22:33:00.005-07:002017-05-03T22:33:52.550-07:00Back from the Arizona Trail: An Ode to Long Distance Hiking<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02c87JGUXv9bFcbFw1Q5ZopZO6vK8aKCTv3V_BAEXgol2XW4s-iBUHqekP-bzbsLzj6zcH5zM-IhoeQKTdIVRp3_BukKVoSZWTPRaJ0hBzBkAeM7Pvzem__uwcAs1s6NH9LwC9G2UbnQ/s1600/IMG_0543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02c87JGUXv9bFcbFw1Q5ZopZO6vK8aKCTv3V_BAEXgol2XW4s-iBUHqekP-bzbsLzj6zcH5zM-IhoeQKTdIVRp3_BukKVoSZWTPRaJ0hBzBkAeM7Pvzem__uwcAs1s6NH9LwC9G2UbnQ/s400/IMG_0543.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Utah border, upon completion of the trail's 800 miles</td></tr>
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Here I sit in a hotel room in Anchorage, Alaska, the night before beginning training for my summer job. Reed and I are back from Arizona, where we spent the months of March and April. It was a fantastic time of walking nearly every day, as we only took one full day of rest during the trek. South to north, we walked the state, starting at Coronado National Monument and finishing at the Utah border. In between, we walked at elevations ranging from 3,000 to 9,000 feet. The variety of topography was astounding. We did find the desert that we anticipated, but it still wasn't what we expected it to be. We carried up to 6 liters of water each during the hot and dry areas. Other times, we slept amidst snow and bundled deep in our bags to stay warm. So here we are back to our adopted home state, and my overriding feeling is that of longing to get back to Arizona to explore further in the future. I send out gratitude for the people who made and maintain the trail and for those who helped us walk its miles.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AZ Trail Marker as we walk the Kaibab Plateau</td></tr>
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Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-84997878999267729702017-02-26T19:56:00.002-08:002017-05-03T22:39:05.131-07:00The Long Journey to the Trailhead: Arizona Trail Here We Come<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready and excited to board Amtrak & get to sleep! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqFe1VtYs65N4HGROrlcZPecJNByhTR0Whds2CK6OueRF68HsflgDKjk8T0gC0F_qjY1un9qigEMICTbXG5_SEUc54QKNjdQ7YEZxSVlzxxsArnD-lPWECljqBXZ6e56NOcADdw1H4n8/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqFe1VtYs65N4HGROrlcZPecJNByhTR0Whds2CK6OueRF68HsflgDKjk8T0gC0F_qjY1un9qigEMICTbXG5_SEUc54QKNjdQ7YEZxSVlzxxsArnD-lPWECljqBXZ6e56NOcADdw1H4n8/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Chariot between San Diego & LA</td></tr>
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We're on our way to Arizona now & happy to be steadily making progress towards the American southwest. It's been a long journey already, with a 2.5 hour drive from Seward to Anchorage, two flights that ended up costing me a night of sleep & a 3 hour Express Greyhound bus ride between San Diego & Los Angeles. We've spent the afternoon here in LA, walking across the Arts District, eating Mexican food & waiting here at Union Station for our all night 'Sunset Limited' train to Tucson, Arizona.<br />
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Yesterday was a blur of packing up our house, cleaning & trying to remember to pack all the things that will be crucial to our survival & relative comfort over the coming two months. We are grateful for our dear friend, Margaret, in Anchorage, who has made this journey so much more possible, by driving us to the airport & keeping our car for us this spring. There are so many crucial details that go into being able to depart ones normal life for an extended period. We are fortunate that we have generous people in our lives who help us achieve our goals & hopes. Thank you, friends & family!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colors and design remind me of the Arizona State Flag</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indeed! We were grateful to arrive!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LA's Arts District</td></tr>
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Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-29050088726546632932017-02-20T13:14:00.002-08:002017-02-20T13:14:50.103-08:00Ready for Arizona, while wintering in Seward, Alaska<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our colder days provided good conditions for run group</td></tr>
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Seward, Alaska has been gorgeous this winter, as we move towards spring, we've been getting longer days and even some clear sky days, a real treat. This was our first winter in Alaska, and it's been delightful. We love living in this small town, getting to know the people and places around town. I've been working for Seward City News, an online hybrid newspaper, which has allowed me to get out and about and meet lots of new people. It's been a great part-time job that's given me legitimate reason to be around town, asking questions and reading history whenever possible. Reed was fortunate to get a part-time job working for the City of Seward Parks and Recreation department, mostly in the teen recreation room. He's getting to know many of the teenagers who live here. We have been fortunate to get to connect with the community in these ways. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pushing through the snow after we got 2 feet in a day</td></tr>
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Today is Monday, President's Day and it's' just 5 days until we depart for the American southwest, Arizona in particular. We're hoping to thru-hike the Arizona National Scenic Trail. This trail's ideal dates and the snow fall this year will hopefully work together to allow us to hike its 800 mile length with the two months that we have available before our summer jobs start. We had struggled to figure a trail that would allow us to hike and still be back in time to earn income this summer. That's the challenge of living in Alaska. The economy has a huge upswing in the summer season, due to tourism. This is great for finding work, and fun work, at that. What it's not ideal for is people who like to hike in the summertime. It's becoming apparent that if we want to live here, we're going to need to find spring, fall and winter trails to hike. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seward has been gifted with an extra snowy winter this year</td></tr>
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Our plan involves quite a bit of transportation to get to the trailhead at Coronado National Monument in southern Arizona, and a great deal of trust in the goodness of humanity. We will drive from Seward to Anchorage, visit with our generous friend Margaret and then leave our car at her house for two months. From there, we'll board a plane bound for Seattle. Fly half the night, layover in Seattle for 4 hours in the middle of the night. Next morning, board a plane bound for San Diego. After that, we don't have our plan worked out yet. Most likely, we'll get to include Amtrak in our trek to get to the trailhead. I've long wanted to take that drive or train ride across the lower left corner of the USA. Now's our chance. We've been getting kind offers via Couchsurfing and the Arizona Trail Community, to help us with all variety of needs - water caching, rides, a place to sleep. The world is full of generosity. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seward's Waterfront Park walkway</td></tr>
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The next few days here in Seward will be focused on winding down our lives here, finishing up projects. Reed will continue working on transitioning our shed into an extra bedroom. I will keep working on writing, cooking and making plans for getting to the trailhead and how to resupply once we are on route. It's not yet spring, and already life is speeding up. As the daylight hours lengthen, the fullness of our days also grow. Lengthening of days, thawing of winter, I give thanks! </div>
<br />Adventuresbyfoothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901491847699304536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-70655690264466051202017-01-26T22:49:00.001-08:002017-01-26T22:49:44.231-08:00San Diego Trans County Trail 2017: A Trip Across the County<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelley with the Salton Sea in background</td></tr>
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We've been living in Seward, Alaska since October, where we've been settling into the rhythms of small town Alaska life in the winter. We have delighted in the slower pace of life and the walkabilty of our town. We bought a tiny home here in Seward last year, and finally this past fall, we got to move in and stay in the house. It's 400 square feet of luxurious comfort and shelter from the elements. We love it. At the same time, we love long distance hiking and sleeping outside, which is tough to find in an Alaskan winter, without gaining major new skills and buying super winter gear. The search for a place to hike and sleep outside with more than five hours of daylight led us back to southern California, a place we fell in love with last winter. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remnants of greenhouses near the Salton Sea</td></tr>
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The desert in winter is a wonderland for backpackers! The only major drawback is finding enough water, and that is much simpler to deal with than rain and snow in 20-40 degree temperatures. The group that we hiked the San Diego Trans County Trail with last year had been planning its dates and details for a while, and 10 days beforehand, we found Alaska airline miles that allowed us to jump on board. One of the joys of being minimally-employed is the flexibility to jump on opportunities. Reed booked us a flight for Palm Springs and we began our preparations. The excitement in our little house was huge, as we packed foods and clothing, trying to remember what would be useful in the desert climate. Our crate of summer clothes was dug out of the corner and rummaged through, to find sun shirts and hats. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking in the Arroyo Salada</td></tr>
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The drive from Seattle to Seward took us 11 days last February. At that time, we were hauling a trailer full of our belongings, and the day time temperatures were well below freezing for most of the trip. This time, we would be traveling the opposite direction and even farther south. But, we would be flying on planes for most of the distance, and it really is amazing how airplanes have changed our perceptions of distances. Our first step was to get to Anchorage and leave our car with friends. Our flight out of Anchorage was scheduled for the middle of the night, as many flights to the "lower 48" are. We parked our car and decided to walk the 4.5 miles to the airport, because we had plenty of time, it was a reasonable 15 degrees outside and our luggage was our backpacks, and thus portable. We laughingly talked of the walk to the airport as our "approach" to the San Diego Trail. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over the Anza Borrego Desert</td></tr>
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Upon arrival in Palm Springs, we began undressing from our layers. We were surprised to find ourselves in a tropical, open air building. The next few days were spent acclimating and eating enormous amounts of fresh produce, something we miss in Seward. I remember particularly well a luscious cantaloupe that we bought and devoured. It was perfect! Additionally, we bought a bag of grapefruit that I tore through. All of this is representative of a couple of changes in our lives these days. First, what I already mentioned, that we don't get as much luscious fresh produce in our lives these days. And second, the balance between time and money has shifted dramatically. We needed to use airline miles in order to get to southern California, and doing so meant that we could arrive 5 days early. Since we're both only minimally working, there wasn't a problem with missing extra days of work. Lodging once we arrived in California could have presented a problem, but we figured that worst case scenario, we would walk and sleep in the desert. As it turned out, we were offered a place to stay with a lovely couple at their home in Indio, California. Reed and they connected via Couchsurfing. They were hikers and we delighted in spending those days with Rod and Fran, going on hikes and, as I said earlier, eating produce. They were amazingly kind and generous with us, taking us into the slot canyons of the Mecca Hills and feeding us well. </div>
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The hike itself began on January 5th, in the warm hours of the afternoon. Our group gathered over a number of hours, coming in various vehicles, including a Uhaul truck. Oh, hikers! It was a fantastic group of kind athletes who use the hike as a kind of hiker "family reunion," as the core group has been hiking the route together for four years now. For Reed and I, it was our second year in a row, and a delight to see familiar faces, especially our friend Girl Scout, with whom we hiked last year. These's lots to say about the hike, but I grow weary here in Seward. As Girl Scout would say, "it's hiker midnight." I'll let the photos speak for themselves and write more in the coming weeks about our upcoming trip, which will be along the Arizona Trail.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squinting into the sun of the Anza Borrego Desert, east of Borrego Springs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset near Borrego Springs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early morning light on downtown Borrego Springs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A female Borrego, or Big Horn Sheep</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lure of the high desert trail</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High desert burnt cactus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading towards the Mason Valley Truck Trail</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain! and Wind! near Lake Cuyamaca</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking the connector roads towards El Cajon Mountain</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt Marsh as we approach Torrey Pines and the Pacific Ocean</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reed and Kelley with one of the Route's Mapping Geniuses, Brett Richey</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Torrey Pines cliffs as we walk our personal finish, to La Jolla</td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-67512682622085519892016-12-18T21:55:00.004-08:002017-01-26T22:50:04.379-08:00Almost to Winter Solstice in Seward on a Sunday Night<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alaska Sealife Center's Christmas tree lights the waterfront</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seward's Christmas Tree high on Bear Mountain appears as a distant star above Tony's Bar</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seward's Downtown - 4th Street looking north<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">We've been taking Sundays as our Sabbath day, a day of rest and recuperation, a day to do whatever we want. We start Sundays with our group run, meeting up at Resurrection Art on 3rd, a cafe that many refer to as Seward's living room. We did that today. Five of us jogged out Lowell Point Road, around the loop at the end of the road, and then back again. On the way out, we saw a pair of sea lions and many birds. Reed jokingly tried to identify them, as yesterday had been Seward's "Christmas Bird Count" and we'd enthusiastically listening as one of our new friends described the birds that his crew had seen the day before. "One crow" said Reed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">After our hour's run we proceeded over to the American Legion with our new friend, Jamie, who's in the Coast Guard. The Legion was hosting a public hot breakfast of eggs, pancakes, bacon and biscuits and sausage gravy. I luxuriated in the meal, breakfast being my favorite combo of food options. We enjoyed a bit of conversation about Seward's Christmas tree, high on Bear Mountain. It had been slow in getting lit this year. I had learned at City Council that the wiring up to the tree had been vandalized, and it took a long-time Sewardite's actions to get it back in operational order. Now it shines down on Seward, casting an encouragement to us in the darkness of winter, where we start and end our days in thick darkness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">This evening I decided to take a leisurely walk around town. The air is crisp and fresh, just 35 degrees farenheit outside. It's warmed up quite a bit in the last few days. Our streets and sidewalks are now a sloppy, slushy mess. The wind has picked up speed throughout the day. I delighted in the fact that I could easily walk to the post office (dropped off a letter), the library (dropped off some DVDs) and walk Seward's waterfront path, all in a leisurely paced 20 minutes. What a fantastic place to live & how fortunate to be home, snug on the couch in our tiny home, with everything that I need. </span></td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-84142301483498133162016-12-04T15:25:00.000-08:002016-12-04T15:25:15.407-08:00How Winter is Shaping Up: October & November in Seward, Alaska<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 Historical Forces in Seward: WW2 Era Quonset Hut, AVTEC (red building) & Mount Marathon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter Night Hiking on the Lost Lake Trail</td></tr>
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This winter we've been living in Seward, Alaska, located on the Kenai Peninsula, at the head of Resurrection Bay. It's a deep fjord, with tall mountains on either side. As newbies to Seward, we've been hesitant to get out on the hiking trails since the snows have begun sticking. Even so, it's been fantastic to be able to run around town twice a week thus far, and we've been out on a couple of hiking trails that are closer to home. <div>
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There's not many hours or much intensity to the sun this time of year, and each day gets less light, until December 22nd. We are looking forward to that change, to when daylight hours start to lengthen. Even so, we've been doing all right. In late October & early November, I started to get anxious about the increasing darkness and marked a countdown onto our daily calendar. We started forcing ourselves up and out, even when it was still dark in the mornings. We committed to doing running group twice a week, starting and ending at Resurrection Art Coffee Shop, considered by some to be "Seward's living room." It's helped! As of today, there are 17 more days of increasing darkness and then the cycle reverses itself.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Marathon's Jeep Trail on a snowy day</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alaska Sea Life Center parking lot in winter</td></tr>
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<br />Seward has proven to be a friendly small town, just the kind of place for which we hoped. When we left Seattle last spring, we knew that we were headed for Denali, to work the season. Beyond that, we didn't know where we'd be going, or what would come next. Our choice to leave the city was terrifying, and exciting. And then we were on the road, in various incantations, for about 18 months. What a relief that Seward is proving a great place to make our home. So here we are, living and learning the area and the people. Each day has its own chores assigned to it, something I remember was true of the Laura Ingalls family out on the American Frontier. Today is Sunday, which we honor by making it our day of rest. The idea is that we do the things that revive our spirits on Sundays. Today we did running group in the morning, followed by more than an hour at Resurrection Art, drinking coffee and visiting and reading the Anchorage newspaper. Then we walked the three blocks to home, took hot baths and ate a hot lunch. </div>
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Winter life in Alaska has a slower pace, especially for those of us who work mostly seasonally. I'll be starting work at Providence Mountain Haven long term care facility tomorrow, where I hope to work 2-3 days per week going forward. And I've begun writing for Seward City News, an online newspaper / magazine / blog. This has afforded me the opportunity to be out and about around town, meeting, interviewing and photographing people and places. Our life here is developing slowly and steadily, and so far, it's a great life with kind people welcoming us into the community. </div>
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Today it's 20 degrees out, windy with tremendous gusts that shake our tiny home and cause trembling sounds from outside. The sky was clear, the ground frozen and the cafe warm. Life is good.<br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Third Avenue looking north towards Resurrection Bay</td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-68211584971747361182016-10-31T16:59:00.003-07:002016-10-31T16:59:58.504-07:00Autumn in Seward: Hike-Running back to Town Along the Seward Highway<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the Bike Path leading into Seward</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thermostat at Trail Head to Grayling Lake, mile 11</td></tr>
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October in Seward has been fantastic, as we settle into our new lives here. My love for hiking and jogging coalesced this past week with my desire to learn a bit more about how Seward is connected together with Bear Creek along the Seward Highway. On a frosty morning, Reed drove me out past mile 11 on the Seward Highway, where I exited the warmth of our old red Rodeo with a shock. I wore my small red and black trail-running backpack full of essential gear, gloves on my hands, a fleece vest and two layers of pants. I didn't look like a runner since my second pair of pants was maroon corduroy and my pace was glacial. The cold and down hill slope exacerbated my shin splint pain, and the cold air was tough on my nostrils. </div>
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That section of the highway is through thick woods, and the sunlight still wasn't touching the pavement after 11am. It became a delightful run after a couple of miles. When my 45 minute timer alarmed, I rewarded myself with ingesting a Capri Sun. The sugar surged me forward to the Bear Creek area, where homes and businesses began to appear, about mile 7 on the highway. From mile 7 all the way into town, there were occasional dwellings and other structures, including the Bear Creek volunteer fire station. I listened to the Fresh Air podcast of Teri Gross interviewing Tom Hanks, learning of his deliberate career move away from playing the role of the washed up baseball coach in "A League of Their Own." I could see his point about not wanting that to be his role for the rest of his career, but I loved him in that film. </div>
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Miles plodded by and I arrived at Spenard Builders Supply, which happens to have an excellent bathroom. Many thanks to them for providing this crucial public service. I rested for a bit while I ordered a stove hood vent for our little house, something that we've been researching for a few weeks. When that transaction was complete, I got back under way and continued jogging into town. My final stop was at Subway, where Reed met me for lunch and we enjoyed their seasonal sandwich, turkey and cranberry. It's just one more mile from Subway to home, and I walked that portion. It was wonderful to find a simple, accessible autumn route for running a decent amount of mileage. I counted my total at 11 miles. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Settlement near Exit Glacier turnoff</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seward Boat Harbor with Mount Alice in background</td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-75968691368357050722016-10-06T01:35:00.001-07:002016-10-06T01:35:46.489-07:00Road Tripping Alaska: Making Our Way Towards Home in Seward, Alaska. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">We finished our jobs at the Grande Denali Lodge and Denali Bluffs Hotels almost a week ago, and have been on the Alaska Road system ever since. Fall is a wonderful time to drive and hike around Alaska, especially this year, because the snow has been sparse thus far. We left Denali on Friday, the last day in September, with a vehicle packed chock full of our belongings as well as food stuffs and bottles of water. We were bound for the Denali Highway, and wanted to be prepared in case of getting stuck. The State of Alaska stops plowing the road at the end of September, so in the event of snow, we figured that we might need to be ready to spend a day or two waiting for the snow to melt or get pushed down by other vehicles. As it turned out, the road was in excellent condition and the driving was spectacular. We've driven the highway in its entirety once before, last summer and a few times we've driven big chunks of it. My, the fall tundra was gorgeous! A further bonus was seeing the happy hunters driving out, their ATVs loaded on trailers, caribou antlers sticking out from beneath tarps. We later learned that the caribou had been late in coming down from the high country, and the state had responded by lengthening the caribou season. The close of the season happened the same night that we began our drive, so the exodus of hunters was in full swing.<br /><br />We spent three peaceful nights at the Maclaren River Lodge, with few fellow guests since the hunters had departed, and the lodge was technically closed for the season. The staff there graciously let us stay a couple more nights, as they began their shut down procedures. We slept late, and went hiking in the afternoons. The tundra was surface-frozen, so walking across it made for a satisfying crunch with each step. One afternoon, we watched a small herd of 8 + 3 caribou run around on the ridge above us, keeping distance between us as we advanced towards Glacier Gap Lake. As we trudged around the tundra and marshlands, we stayed warm by virtue of our labor expenditure. The icy water was kept away from my feet thanks to my xtra tuff boots, except when I hit an especially boggy spot, I sunk in to my knees and I had to fight to extricate myself. After that, I walked faster to regain warmth.<br /><br />Our journey continued from the Denali Highway south along highway 4, through Glenallen and on to the Wrangell St Elias National Park Visitor Center. There a ranger discouraged us from going on the McCarthy Road, quizzing us on whether we were properly prepared to face the challenges that the road might throw at us. Eventually, we gave up on getting information or encouragement from her, and decided to try our luck. When were we going to have another chance at getting all the way out to the small town of McCarthy! The drive out was incredibly beautiful and the road was very much passable. No flat tires! Even though we were adequately prepared with a good spare tire and an air compressor and plugs for fixing flats. What stupendous beauty! We stayed the night at an off-grid cabin in McCarthy, one among 5 cabins that constitutes the Blackburn Cabins. Mark, the proprieter kindly picked us up at the McCarthy side of the pedestrian bridge. The deal is that one can drive 60 miles from Chitina to McCarthy, but then a river with only a pedestrian bridge blocks ones way. People leave their cars on that west side of the river and walk across the pedestrian bridge.<br />That night we witnessed the magic of the northern lights dancing white, green, purple and pink acorss the sky, while listening to rock and ice bounce around off the Kennecott Glacier and in the river. We stayed outside watching even as our bodies grew increasingly cold as we really were spell bound by the surprise of dancing colors in the night sky.<br />The next day we walked up to and around the old mill town of Kennecott. Although it was cool to see, and I can add the area to my wish list of places to work, my energy was low the day that we walked the 3.5 miles to Kennecott, so I am limited in what I can say about the experience. I am grateful that we went, and that even on a low-energy day, my body was able to carry me there and back. We even extended the trip a bit by walking out to the Root Glacier, another 3 miles roundtrip. We stood and walked around on a glacier. Hard to believe that we were looking out on miles of ice.<br /><br />So much beauty and wonder and we still have a few more days left on our travels. Today we drove from Kenny Lake to Valdez. It was another amazing drive, especially the section through Keystone Canyon. The sun was out and the temperature ideal for fishing. Reed practiced his fly fishing skills at Blueberry Lake, while I cooked in the parking lot on our Svea Stove. I cooked up a batch of cranberry apple sauce, using the cranberries that Reed picked walking around Thompson Pass. I picked some too, but I ate all mine while lazing in the sunshine. And we cooked the fish that Reed had caught the night before, a kokanee salmon! It was luscious flesh, and represented success for Reed in that he caught a land-locked salmon in a lake in Alaska, one of his fishing goals.<br /><br />Tonight we are in Valdez, staying with a Couchsurfing host, Jeremy, a kind and generous host. We've had a full evening of talking and eating his delicious food, while learning from a local Cordova resident about what we have to look forward to in our travels there. Emily shared with us some of the good things soon to come our way in terms of sighs and experiences. Tomorrow afternoon we will board the Alaska State ferry bound for Cordova, which will meant crossing the Prince William Sound. It's been a while since we've been on salt water, and I can already see Reed's mood further brightening because of our proximity to coast.<br /><br />We've been fortunate this year. Reed said that it's been one of our best and I think he's right. All the way from San Diego Trans County Trail at the start of the year to exploring around south central Alaska, plus so many other places and wonderful people. Gracias a la vida!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZnO3pL6tJw/V_YB1SUHqfI/AAAAAAAAD4Y/WpL2fI19KLgauVYHQyZvfUrTSUREOOxzACLcB/s1600/IMG_8480%2B1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZnO3pL6tJw/V_YB1SUHqfI/AAAAAAAAD4Y/WpL2fI19KLgauVYHQyZvfUrTSUREOOxzACLcB/s640/IMG_8480%2B1.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early Winter on the Denali Highway</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking on Frozen Tundra near the Maclaren River, Denali Highway</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The red of tundra in fall. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marsh walking near Maclaren River. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the not boggy walking. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking near Kennecott. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Blackburn Cabin at McCarthy. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kennicott Glacier in the background on a sunny and cool day. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old Mill Town of Kennecott. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking on the ice of Root Glacier. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The color scheme of a mill town. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening fall fishing at Strehlna Lake. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Reed, thank you fish. </td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-27473840613739218712016-09-08T11:14:00.001-07:002016-09-11T18:27:17.831-07:00Hiking the Park Road: 46 Miles in Autumn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camper Bus: 3:30pm departure from the Visitor Center</td></tr>
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The 35 mile hike turned into a 46 mile hike, because I love the miles! We had planned to start at Highway Pass, but the park was so beautiful and we wanted to get nearer to Mount Denali, so we stayed on the bus until Stoney Pass. </div>
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It was just a few miles between Stoney Pass and Highway Pass and there was still light at 7pm, when we got out that way, so we walked on. That was how it went for two days, continued, steady pace and lots of foods. I love hiking and I love food, the combo is fantastic. </div>
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At present, I'm weary from a couple of late nights and early mornings, and the end of the season busyness. We are nearing shutdown and a few employees depart each day, bound for their next adventures and employment and school. It's tough physically - the cleaning and laundry, and it's tough emotionally, saying goodbye to so many kind and hard workers. </div>
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Today my mom departs Denali. It's been a gift having her here. We've never gotten to spend this much adult time together. Now I will go and drive her to the Grande Denali Lodge, so that she can finish her paperwork, and then I will drive her to the train station where she will board the Alaska Railroad bound for Anchorage. </div>
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Summer is gone, I am now 35 and it was a fantastic hike. I'm grateful for it all. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site of our first night Campsite</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toklat River behind us</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East Fork braided river</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sable Pass on our second day of walking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teklanika River</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Birthday Feast provided by my mom, who came to meet us on the bus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking together east of Teklanika</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sanctuary River Campground, mile 22 and almost to the finish.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down on Savage River as we near completion</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Finish - Savage River Bridge. </td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-10777556897713447632016-09-01T11:55:00.001-07:002016-09-01T11:55:54.062-07:00A final walk in the Park for my 35th Birthday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today is Thursday, the day of "Swinging Doors" radio show on KEXP in Seattle, Washington. It's also the day before my 35th birthday and thus occasion for us to take our day off from working for Grande Denali, LLC and take a final journey into Denali National Park. Reed and I will be taking the afternoon camper bus into mile ~58 at Highway Pass, where we'll sleep tonight and then begin walking back towards the park entrance. Our goal is to walk 35 miles in two days, and end our walk at about mile 23, which is near the Sanctuary River area.<br />
It's been another full summer. Alaska summers, for us, have brimmed over with activity, much like the daylight hours here, which are unending in June and July. It's been a challenging summer in many ways and also a rewarding one. One of the biggest gifts that Reed and I have enjoyed has been having my mom, Sue Wiley, here to work alongside of us at our hotels. This is the most time, as adults, that we've ever gotten to spend together. Sue will be joining us at some point on our hike, just because a broken hip can't stop her!<br />
I give thanks for the decades and years that I have gotten to live in the world, eating and drinking it up. My life has been full of many blessings, most of all my dear husband, Reed. At 21 and 22, I didn't know if I would be able to stay alive. I couldn't imagine my life in the future. I give thanks that here I am, and this has been my life thus far. </div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968597160580746020.post-76657773565118636772016-07-26T22:20:00.001-07:002016-07-26T22:20:28.444-07:00Unit 1 of Denali National Park: Climbing Flat Top Mountain off the George Parks Highway<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been another busy summer of work and play here in Denali Park, Alaska. We're both working for Grande Denali, LLC again, Reed as maintenace at the Grande Denali and I as the Housing Manager for both the Denali Bluffs and Grande Denali. We've been grateful to have our jobs for a second season, to settle into them and get to explore the area more. <a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lw4Xd920Lpc/V5g8Q-ExHWI/AAAAAAAAD0g/nSTPjr69TrgtehTNVJmGmxZ5bcZA-BUrwCLcB/s1600/IMG_8036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lw4Xd920Lpc/V5g8Q-ExHWI/AAAAAAAAD0g/nSTPjr69TrgtehTNVJmGmxZ5bcZA-BUrwCLcB/s640/IMG_8036.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This summer I wanted to try learn something new by working a second job that would allow me to get familiar with working in a small business, and would help me to meet people outside of our company. I was fortunate to get a one-day-per-week job working at Black Bear Coffee shop, down on the strip / mall of Denali's 'downtown.' This job has given me the chance to work with a skilled group of people, and to learn a little about what it's like to operate a small business. </div>
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I still have two days off per week, but it means less time off during the work week to prep for weekend outings. Reed's done an excellent job at stepping up and doing the work of getting us ready to go camping each weekend. We've also been helped by our experience this past winter of prepping for outdoor adventures, which taught us to whittle down our packing to the bare essentials, as less weight and bulk allows us to do more, go farther. </div>
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Last weekend Reed secured us a backcountry permit for Unit 1 in Denali National Park, accessible from the George Parks Highway. I worked until 9:30pm, then walked home and decompressed for an hour. By the time that we were on the trail, it was nearly midnight. Yes, it was still light, which is one of the amazing things about Alaska in June and July. We parked at the Triple Lakes Trailhead and then set out up the Triple Lakes trail. When we crossed the Alaska Railroad, we followed the tracks south, to the faint traces of earlier footsteps. The beginning was fine, walking across foamy-tundra and knee high blueberry bushes. Pretty soon, though, the vegetation thickened, the ground got muddy and we found our best option was to follow what was clearly a moose trail. Their recent footsteps were clearly visible, and the vegetation had been pushed back. Trying to depart from this narrow thread was less appealing. It was 90+ minutes of type 3 fun. Reed wanted to stop and set up our tent for the night. So did I. But there was nowhere flat or dry enough. So on we went. When we crested the top edge of the ridge, it was amazing to find that the mountain really way flat up top. </div>
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By 2am our tent was set up, and we were snugly in our sleeping bags. We slept well until 9am, when we awoke, did our morning routine including eating granola bars smothered in peanut butter, (retrieved the Ursack from 100 meters away & watched a moose in the distance) and then went back to sleep. </div>
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We were glad to get a bit of catch up sleep. We slept most of the day, until after 2, then got up and gobbled down more granola bars with peanut butter. The best part was that there was more up still available to us. We had camped on the low ridge, and the peak was clearly visible since the clouds and fog had moved along to the next set of peaks. We walked for another hour to get to the top. It was like a park at the top, with low grass and evidence of dahl sheep all around. I would have liked to continue on, but our time was running short, so we turned around and headed back the way that we had come. We passed near the moose we had seen that morning, or perhaps it was a different one. Their tracks were abundant. We picked blueberries; their deep blue caught our eyes and our attention. Then we found a chute to descend. It was steep, but so much less dense brush than the way that we had ascended. </div>
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We were down by 8pm, having seen and experienced quite a lot for less than 24 hours. I love the proximity to the park that we enjoy working right here at the park entrance. On the way down, we passed by one of the remnants of the Alaska telegraph line, from the early 1900s. Glass insulators still atop the badly leaning pole. </div>
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