Jobs? Nah, not yet!

Looking down on Williwaw lakes from the 'Ball Field' behind Little O'Malley ridge.

Most of you probably think that Tim and I are busy looking for jobs. Well, we're not, at least not quite yet. Soon the real world will catch up with us, but for now we are busy enjoying Alaska. We have discovered that there is actually some rock climbing around here, which is a huge relief to us. Tim has also been busy helping my grandfather move piles of dirt, while my grandfather is chopping wood like a madman and I put in a new garden. And of course, we are going on lots of hikes in the Chugach range behind Anchorage. It is absolutely amazing to have the wilderness so close outside the door.

On one recent evening hike with Tim, we managed to lose the trail in a swamp and began following moose trails. These got worse and worse as they wound through the dwarf Juniper and eventually disappeared. By the time we realized that we had lost the main trail and that fighting through the thick brush and trees really sucked, we decided it was too late to go back. Instead, we fought our way as straight up as possible, knowing we would get above tree line soon. We ended up literally crawling through the junipers on our hands and knees, with the trees scraping our backs and getting stuck in our hair and clothing. Finally we made it above tree line and saw what we had to hike through next; shin deep mud and wobbly swamp tussocks. It looked wonderful, compared to the trees we had just struggled through. We saw two bull moose, but no bears, although we saw plenty of bear scat. So much excitement for a little evening jaunt! A few hours later, we were back in our little straw bale and log cabin with a fire in the wood stove.



A young bull moose stops grazing to check us out.



Looking back at Williwaw lakes after we drop down from Little O'Malley ridge and the Ball Field and head out through the valley, where we ended up just a bit off track.



Tim works on a bit of Alaska rock

Ugly Feet

Of the racers that started the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic, more than half scratched. And the ones that finished sure had ugly feet! Big blisters, swollen ankles, and black toenails ugly. One guy says that his toenails fall off every year, and grow back just in time for the following years race, where they fall off all over again.

Traversing over mountains, through thick, bear infested brush and swamplands, and running wild rivers, it took the winning guys just under five days to reach Central, after which they collapsed into beds and sleeping bags. By evening, everyone was up and enjoying a beer around the fire on the second longest day of the year. The fire wasn't for the cold, it was to keep at bay the swarms of buzzing, biting mosquitoes that thickly populate the interior. The sun had barely set, and without any real darkness, was rising again when another racer came in at 4:00 AM. After about five and a half days on the go, with 7 hours total of sleep, he was hallucinating wildly. Trees became dancing Tinkerbells, witches on broomsticks, Tin men, potato heads, and prostitutes, rocks became princess jewelry, scrimshaw, and Mosaic tile work, and coals in the fire were squirrels wearing Russian hats.

My grandfather, at 80 years old, was doing the race under the newly created masters division, which basically means that if you are that old and still doing the AMWC (he has participated in over 20 of the races) you don't have to follow the same rules as the other guys! So he and his friend Jerry floated the whole thing, down the 40 mile and the Yukon rivers. They had to be alert on the 40 mile, as there were several rapids and even a few pour offs that needed to be portaged. Then, when they hit the Yukon, they pulled out into the middle of the smooth flowing river and slept! By this time, after having to be alert in a tiny, leaky, five pound rubber raft for 12 hours a day, they needed the sleep.

It will be my grandfathers last wilderness race, and running most of it in the pack raft that he introduced to the race over 25 years ago is a fitting end. That year, no one had heard of these rafts and had planned on swimming the big rivers. One person had almost drowned trying when this old white haired man came up, dropped his pack, pulled out his hidden rubber raft, duck taped some plastic paddles to what looked like a walking stick, put on a viking hat, and announced "old age and treachery overcome youth and skill any time!"

Ugly Feet!



More Ugly Feet!



Rolling mountains in the interior.



Sitting around the fire at 2:21 AM. This is about as dark as it got.



One of the racers comes in at 3:39 AM. Notice the sunrise just hitting the treetops.

Mountain races

My uncle, at 50 years old, placed 4th overall in the Bird Ridge Mountain Run today. This race covers only three miles, but 3400 feet of brutally steep elevation gain. The Males Division winning time was just over 40 minutes to climb the peak. Barney clocked in at just over 42 minutes, and set a new time record for the 50 to 60 year old age group. Tim and I made it only half way up in about 50 minutes, before we moved to the side of the trail to make room for the runners who would soon be coming up. Soon, they appeared, steaming up the hill, breathing heavily, fine tuned bodies working, pain showing in their faces.

Meanwhile, while I was cheering Barney on, my grandfather, at 80 years old, started the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic today, a race crossing through 180 miles of Alaskan wilderness between two small towns; this years route goes from Chicken to Central. There are no established trails through this rugged wilderness and the rules are simple: Get from point A to point B, across mountain ranges, swamps, and big rivers, completely unsupported and self-sufficient, no gear drops, no roads, no checkpoints, and practicing minimum impact travel. The disclosure form is equally simple and a bit humorous. It reads:

"As usual, the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic has no money, no assets, and no insurance. The AMWC is merely suggesting an event location."

The location of the race changes every three years, ranging from 150 to 200 miles cross-country. Many of the years have seen winners making it to the finish in two days or less by barely sleeping and eating mostly butter. Yuk! In a few days, I will head to Central to see the racers into the finish.

I prefer Barney’s type of race, lots of pain over a short time period, rather then lots of pain over a long time period. That is, if you don't count all the training to be done before hand! Next year, I would like to run the Bird Ridge race, and a few other mountain runs, which means getting back in shape and starting to train by running up mountains. I'll let you know how it goes!

Barney, working hard to get to the top





What a view. Most of the racers were probably working too hard to notice it, though!



Meanwhile, here is the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic Route shown in the next two photos.



Choose any way you want to get from point A to point B (as long as it does not involve roads or motorized transport)



My grandfather and his race partner this year, Jerry Dixon

Arrival!

Alaskan swamp spruce under a gathering storm



After seven long days of driving, we arrived at my grandfathers in Anchorage. Tim has never been to Alaska this close to summer solstice, and he is having lots of trouble sleeping! The sun goes down around midnight for about four hours, but it's never far below the horizon and is always somewhat light. I love it. For me the midnight sun is what summer is all about.

Our first two days living in Alaska together were cold and rainy. Finally, last night the sun came out at about 10:00PM, bright and shiny, sending rays slashing in through the windows. As the grey darkness melted away, it felt like morning. Time for bed?? No way!

Sunlight shining through the trees at 10:00 PM

Photos from the Drive

Glacier National Park in Montana



A really dorky self portrait of us!



Glacier National Park in Canada



Hey, that creek was named after me!



The endless forests of Yukon territory and South Central Alaska.

The Long Drive

After flying from Ecuador to AZ, we are about half way on our 4000 mile drive from Phoenix to Anchorage, AK. We are starting to get used to how things work in North America, but I still have problems with simple things, like remembering that I can eat the raw vegetables, brush my teeth in the sink, and throw my toilet paper in the toilet instead of the trash. And I have some difficulties with bigger things, like how to speak the English language after hearing it rarely for over one year, and occasionally even what side of the road to drive on.

One thing that has really surprised me about the States is how many box stores there are. It seems like an explosion of architecturally uninteresting boxes of all sizes has sprouted up everywhere. Yuk! I also really liked the crazy markets overseas and find it sad that shopping in the States is so sterile.

Overall, we are pretty happy to be home, though. Traveling for 15 months is an amazing experience, but is perhaps just a bit too long. We miss the simple conveniences of the States. And after sleeping in over 300 different beds, it's going to be really nice to have a place we can call our own for a while!