The hike of all hikes

As winter came to an end this year I began planning all of the hikes I'd do this summer. There were several I had missed last year and I was determined to check them all out. Unfortunately, summer only showed up for all of one week I think this year. OK, 10 days at the most and instead of setting out to accomplish my hiking goals I set out for long nights at the bar, crocheting sessions on the couch, and lazy weekends of doing nothing. I started getting depressed. Thankfully, my good friend, Storme, was visiting from New Zealand for the summer and wanted to see Alaska for all it's worth, rain or shine. It was time to change my boring old tune and see Valdez up close and personal. So, we headed out. We did a nice hike to the Valdez glacier. The trail stops out on a point on the lake where you can easily see the glacier and get some pretty nice pictures. We wanted to get closer though so we hiked along the shore line to get right up to it. The shoreline was pretty difficult to navigate and I ended up standing in ankle deep water more than once. We made it to a big rocky mound that was a stone's throw away from the glacier. The photographs began. I knelt down once to get a better shot of the guys and my foot slid back pretty far, enough to spread the gravel off the "rocky mound" we were standing on to reveal we weren't a stone's throw away from the glacier after all. We were actually standing on it, right atop a huge chunk of ice. Sweet!
This hike got me pumped up for our next adventure; The Shoup Bay trail.
I had heard of folks talking up this trail for the past year however I never met someone who had actually done it, start to finish so we didn't know exactly what we were in for. My friend,Tom,rented a cabin that was just across the bay from the end of the trail. He would go there by boat and pick us up after our long walk. It was a 10 mile hike that started out pretty flat in thick vegetation but with a wide nicely cleared path which eventually opened up to a flat, clear, marsh land that butted up against the Prince William Sound. From there we traveled on relatively flat ground on simple bridges and wood planked walk ways to help us through the really marshy wet areas. How nice. Just a lovely....simple....easy hike.....Ha! Right, then the real hike began...
So'd ya hear the one about two Poles, one New Zealander, and two Americans that headed into the rain forest? That was our group and the story went kind of like this:
After the marsh land we headed back into the rain forest surrounded by the most beautiful plants and trees. Wild flowers and berries were peaking out of thick green foliage almost every step of the way. When we reached a giant waterfall and accompanying bridge I remember looking around in utter amazement. It reminded me of the swampy forests of Louisiana with the stringy moss hanging from every limb. This moss land was home to many creatures. We saw bear poop around every corner and bugs were thick when the air was still. Mosquitoes laughed at my all-natural hippy bug spray and relentlessly attacked. I broke down at one point and drenched my face and hands in the hard stuff, deet and all. And we pressed on. At times the trail was so muddy there was no where to step except right in the middle of it, sinking down past my ankles. The previous easy, meandering well maintained trail quickly changed to slick rocky terrain on which I fell at least 7 times. We were heading up an down and up up up up again, taking switchbacks and careful steps across waterfalls all the while noticing a quickly shrinking path ahead of us. Our once wide, well groomed path shrank down to less than shoulder width at some points. I remember thinking of bears and if we should meet one. The narrow path would yield little escape. I didn't let my mind go there for long. I had no choice but to stay focused or give up and choose to make my home in that rainy forest, obviously I chose the first option. We stopped for lunch and a break but it lasted only long enough to scarf down our pre-made sandwiches and chug some water. The mosquitoes at that point must have been on lunch break too. We had to get out of there but we didn't leave with out a keep-it-going toast. My husband, of course, packed along a tiny flask of whiskey. Cheers and a "cheese" for the photos and we were off again. At this point the trail became really steep and rocky and I have to admit I struggled. Storme was behind me most of the way, patiently dealing with my frequent quick breaks for an extra gasp of air. It was pretty difficult for me but I kept at it. As I began to feel the weakest, as if I didn't think I could take another single upward step the terrain flattened and opened up to a nice little flower covered meadow. We had made it up the most difficult portion of the hike. Scheww! At this point we were probably 5 hours into the hike. We estimated only having about an hour left. We were going to make it. That last leg of the trip proved to be the most beautiful. We reached a point where we could see the cabin and the Shoup glacier nestled behind it. It was an incredible site. As we neared the end of the trail, the Polish hiking team as we cleverly labeled them suggested we go off trail on a "short cut" to get to a nice spot where Tom would pick us up in the boat. Okay.....
There we went climbing over a labyrinth of trees, hoisting dogs up and under, cursing the Poles for leading us into this mess. It was difficult but we had no choice but to stick with the off road plan since my body gave up on hiking upward over and hour ago. There wasn't a chance of turning around. At one point I got wedged in between two trees held back by my backpack that was stuck under the trunk of one tree, my right leg wrapped around another. I started to slide. Again, my fear of an upward trek pulled me through. I slithered and clawed my way out of my restraint and suddenly I could see the light at the end of the twisted tree tunnel. There was water. A few moments later, I flopped down on a pointed wet rock with the most awesome feeling of accomplishment soaring through my body. It took us 6 1/2 hours to make one of the best hikes of our lives. Our rescue team arrived shortly to pick us up and taxi us to the party going on at the McAllister Creek cabin. Turns out that self made trek was the best idea of the trip. It landed us in the perfect location for the boat to pick us up. We were safe, with food, fire, and a cozy cabin to celebrate in. What an accomplishment. What an adventure. Rain...shmain....there's lots of livin' no matter the mood of sweet Mother Nature. Go on...Get ya some!








RESCUED!!!

Freedom Defined: A Miller Sisters Marathon

When I moved to Valdez last summer I volunteered to help organize the 2010 City of Valdez 4th of July Festival. I had high hopes for this event as I love any reason to throw a party. I asked my good friends to play for the main show on the 4th. These girls for real. There's so much talent wrapped up in an acoustic guitar and mandolin they don't even need a full band. Get their band out there though and it is on, party people. I knew with our limited budget, we wouldn't be able to offer them anything close to their worth but those girls love Alaska and were thrilled with having a reason to return to the The Last Frontier. It wasn't an easy trek as only weeks before their departure tragedy hit the little valley where we all met back in 2004. Two friends lives were lost and it stopped everyone in their tracks. The girls and their families were especially close to Bryan Silker. Mourning that loss and getting ready for the trip proved more than difficult. But they pressed on. Chad and Candice brought along baby Mary Jane. What a treat this was for Brian and I. It had been 10 months since we last saw her. What an adorable little lady she's becoming. What a great experience for her to see Alaska! Karee and Jason were celebrating their much over due honeymoon so they left their babes at home. I borrowed an RV for their honeymoon suite and the rest of us holed up in the #24 trailer. I was a bit worried if they'd be OK with the simple accommodations but why I felt that way I'll never know. These people are real. They are down to earth and completely thrilled with the opportunity to visit Alaska again. My friend Lindy and I fixed up their rooms with pretty flowers, toys for the baby, pictures of their families and a goody bag. I wanted them to really feel welcome. I'm sure they loved that. I'm certain they appreciated it but the reality is, this special little place will make anyone feel welcome, with little to no effort at all. And so the Miller Sister Marathon began...
They rolled in early one morning after an all night drive from Anchorage. I quickly showed them around and ran out the door to go to work. I was worried they might not find enough to do. Right. They took off on a 24 hour trek to visit Chitina and McCarthy, AK, with glacier viewing in between. They enjoyed kayaking at the Valdez glacier and we all barbecued at the beach with fresh caught Copper River red salmon and a bon fire. And then it was show time. Their first gig was scheduled at the only bar in town that ever really hosts live music. It's a little rough, AK style, but has the potential of packing a ton of people. I remember being so nervous that entire day that no one would show up. I mean, I know these girls are fabulous but no one in Valdez had heard of them before. What if no one came out? Did I promote it enough? Silly me. Unfortunately, Valdez has little to no night life. The posters and word of mouth alone packed that smokey dive bar and the girls showed up ready to rock.
They got on stage at 10:00 and didn't take a break until 2AM. That break was short lived as they were quickly back on stage belting out all types of music from original tunes to Janis Joplin to Johnny Cash to Four Non-Blondes. The crowd was in heaven. We left there around 4 AM with pockets full of cash for the girls and energy that could have kept us up for days. Wait...I think that energy did keep us up for days....The next night was a smaller gig but just as much fun. The sound in the smaller venue seemed a bit more clear, more full, which is funny because the girls did their own sound that night. We danced and sang until the wee hours (again) with the crowd begging for more. "We've got to get these girls back to Valdez!" "We need to book a huge show at the Civic Center with their whole band!" "Will they come back for our Christmas party?" And the compliments went on and on. The next day was the 4th of July Festival. The rain and grey skies were a little disappointing but the energy of the town was high. It was a nice family atmosphere which we needed after our two previous wild nights but was equally just as fun. After my friends helped me organize the parade we had an entire day to just do whatever felt intriguing. For the boys that meant doing next to nothing. For the girls that meant shopping and gabbing. Giggle fits were common with us that day, I'm sure all influenced by sleep deprivation. Whatever the reason is was simple and carefree fun. When the Miller gals were ready,dressed in blue Jessica McClintock gowns with red white and blue boas and tall Uncle Sam hats, the final show began. It was another fabulous performance ending in fireworks and a bon fire. We topped the evening off back at the hotel bar when the Miller Sisters were asked to sing one more time for the packed tavern. They complied, atop the bar even, and once again left the crowd asking for more. As if this day weren't fabulous enough, as we stood outside in the rain debating our next move the guys from hit TV show, The Deadliest Catch, casually walked around the corner. My husband instantly recognized them. The group photographs began. Moments later another fellow offered to run down to his boat and grab a fresh bag of shrimp for all of us to try. Now, is that Alaskan or what? We stood out there and drank a few beers while the Miller Girls sang one last tune for this tiny late night crowd. Absolutely perfect. I remember Candice saying that Alaska inspires thinking and reflection and man, have we had reason to think lately. This trip for them and the experience for us was bit therapeutic in a sense. It was the natural upswing of the pendulum after the deep down swing of loss, beautiful yet humbling. We laughed and cried and reminisced. It was a reminder of what matters, the precious simplicities of life. As the Indigo Girls and the Miller Sisters sing: " The best thing you've ever done for me is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all...."
As our friends packed their bags the next day and prepared for the long journey home I grew sad about it all coming to an end. I mean, yes, I needed to sleep for a good 3 days to fully recover, but having a taste of home in a place so far from where we originally met was just the best Independence Day treat. This experience defines freedom for me. Old friends reuniting in a magical place greeted by people who are so appreciative and full of life means we must being doing something right. Or maybe we are just get it right in picking quality friends and quality places to call home. Whatever it is, I love it. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Teton Valley Times ~ A Tribute

In 2003, I left San Diego after 10 wonderful years of city and beach living to move to a town called, Victor, ID, popluation 800-ish. WTF? Was I crazy? What would I ever do with myself? I was a country girl at heart who had pretty much ALWAYS lived in the city. This would be interesting. Upon arriving, I first noticed the obvious, the absense of street lights created the darkest nights I'd ever seen. There was space, space and more space, no traffic, beautiful scenery and wildlife and this rustic little bar called the Knotty Pine. In off-season, a good night at the KP consisted of myself and a handful of other patrons, at best, and one bartender. It was at this bar that my life began to slowly transform. I started meeting people from all over the U.S. who had for one reason or another just ended up in Victor. People would say, "Oh ya just moved here, you must need a fresh start, right? Searching for something, maybe?" I guess I was, along with many people I ran into in that little bar for a milion different reasons. In the most simple terms, people often ended up there to remember how to live. This concept, at the time, was completely foreign to me. I can't tell you how many times I told the story of my 8 to 5 government job just over the Teton pass to the look of shear disappoinment sitting across from me. "You mean, you only get to snowboard on the weekends? You drive to Jackson, every day, like 5 days a week? Really?" It wasn't just in the winter either. I got the same reaction no matter the season. People of all ages were living to the fullest every day and making life about adventure, sports and hobbies instead of careers and money. Even after my friends started having babies, those little infants were soon skiing with them in little ski baby backpacks. By age two they had their own fresh pair of skis. They were fishing and hiking and camping from the time they could crawl and they were loving it. I couldn't believe it. I remember feeling embarrassed that I was so lame and had this totally repsonsible job while my new friends were working just enough to support their passions. It was also there that I was first introduced to the idea of living without TV. WHAT? Another anamoly to me. How could you possibly live without all of those primtime addictions sent faithfully to your living room on a nightly basis? Wouldn't I be deprived? Truth is, people there were out making their own stories and adventures, much more real than any silly reality show, more comedic than the average sitcom. I didn't understand this life at first but I instantly envied these free spirits and this awesome zest for living. Through them I found a new zest of my own.

I decided that I'd pick my sport and perfect it to my own ability. Now, I lived amongst some of the best skiers and snowboarders in the world so I knew I was on a different playing field from the beginning. Even so, I was going to do my best to make snowboarding my life, even if I could only swing a weekend warrior status. And so my new life began. And what a ride, literally. I fell in love with snowboarding so much so that after one of my best seasons ever, I hadn't had enough so I planned a trip with my dear friend, Jenn, to Argentina to find snow in summer and ski the Andes Mountains. Another fear conquered, mission accomplished. Yes! What an awesome adventure. The truth is, my life there was always filled with adventure. It was there I met some of the best friends I've ever known. I'd love to write a little story about each and maybe I will one day. They have all shaped who I am, as has that special little place called Teton Valley, Idaho.

I hear my little valley calling lately in the wake of recent tragedies there. Two wonderful people I've known for years prematurely lost their lives a few weeks ago. Friends and family will forever wonder why they left, but no one would ever think to question if they really LIVED. They did, more than most, every single day.

God bless you, Andy and Silker. Thank you for showing so many what real living is all about.

Blessing to all of my dear friends in Teton Valley. I will be back. Until then, keep on living the awesome lives you're so lucky to enjoy!

Welcome to America!

My best friend from high school, Lindy, buys me a subscription to REAL SIMPLE magazine for Christmas each year. Obviously, the title alone is right up my alley but I honestly never really read the articles as much as I looked at the pictures and read the "simple" explanations of how to make life easier, which I loved! The articles, for some reason though, just didn't catch my eye or maybe I never made the time for them. A few months ago she and her family ended up moving to the little town I call home these days, Valdez Alaska.

For Memorial Day weekend we took a little drive up country to a small lake for a camping weekend. It was a lovely, lazy, sit around all day camping trip that gave me plenty of time to read. If only I had brought a book. Lindy was thinking ahead, at least more than me, and brought her magazines and even had some issues that I hadn't received.I took my kayak out on the glass surfaced lake after a nice late breakfast and did some "REAL SIMPLE" reading.
The articles were great! I couldn't put it down! I sat out on that boat for over an hour and read the whole thing cover to cover. I left that trip thinking, I've got to go dig up all of my past issues of this magazine and catch up on some reading, quick!

My most recent SIMPLE read leads me to a new blog inspiration. There was an article about six women from six different countries who had recently become citizens of the United States. They were asked to write a story about why they had made this decision. Every story was different, every situation unique. The only common thread in each was their love of America. This was such a welcomed reminder. I hate to admit it, but over the last couple of years I had become a little wary of the good ol' U.S.A. The economy, war, environmental frustrations, processed foods fattening Americans, increases in mortality rates...I could keep going but the point is obvious. I was growing tired of a country that I grew up loving. Being raised by parents who originated from West Texas I was born patriotic. I get chills when I hear the National Anthem. I cry when I see Americans atop the winners podium in the Olympics. One of my most vivid and beautiful memories was a site seen on a favorite road trip I took of a tattooed biker riding his Harley across the Midwest. He had a large American flag flowing in the wind from the back of his bike. Miles of yellow wheat fields filled the land scape that enveloped him. His long braided pony tail stood straight as an arrow behind the knotted bandanna that wrapped around his head as if pointing to the stars and stripes of that flag. I remember thinking, now, that's America if I've ever seen it. It screamed FREEDOM to me as loud as that silent moment alone would allow. I loved it. I also love Willie Nelson as if he were a family member. :)
Current times and repetitive frustrations had given me reason to question my innate love of this country. Had my innocent trust and admiration all been in vain? Had the haters of this country and its people been right after all? All of these questions forcing themselves into my psyche were irritating to say the least which makes this article a perfect find. It instantly reminded me of my new friend, Magdalena, who moved to the U.S. 11 years ago from Poland. She just got her citizenship this past March. Since I've become friends with her she has reminded me of how good we often have it here. She has an eye for making money and for making it in general in this country. She sees opportunity at every turn. She reminds me in her attitude and presence alone that we need to appreciate what we do have. She comes from a country where struggling economically is a constant, not just a few years out of an otherwise very plentiful existence. People expect to be broke, not comfortable. They expect little opportunity and certainly not a land chock-full full of it. That very thought was a recurring theme in most of the stories I read in SIMPLE. Everyone of those women moved here for a better life. And even in 2010, they were able to find it.

My innocence a bit tainted, I stand cautiously but am proud to enjoy the positives of my homeland instead of focusing on the negative. I'm thankful to this article and my new friend who subtly reminded me that there are millions who'd give anything to be here. Far from perfect, there are still many reasons to love the U.S.A. Why do you love this country?

Now, that's American:

MY NORTHWEST WORK-ATION





I first visited the northwest in 1993, the exact month escapes me but, that trip will forever remind me of a distinct feeling I’ve yet to replicate. It was a feeling of home, being content, inspiration, and wellness. I remember it like it was yesterday, walking the streets of Seattle, staying with my mom in downtown, and just feeling this calm I’ll never properly define. Strangely, it was like I was supposed to be there.
Luckily, I have had the opportunity to return to the northwest several times since then and my most recent visit was nothing short of wonderful. I arrived at the SeaTac airport late Friday night or early Saturday morning to be accurate. I won’t mention the following 3 AM drive to my cousin’s house. It didn’t go exactly as planned but I arrived safe and sound, ready to begin my work-ation (work/vacation). I call it this because technically, I was there for business but in my heart I was on an escape mission to my beloved Seattle.

My cousin is a staple in my life, a person embedded in my earliest memories. He and his partner live on Magnolia Hill in Seattle and both sell real estate. They are just a hoot together. I laugh so much when I’m with them and just love being at their home. It’s reminiscent of being at a spa without the rock massages or facials. The back yard reminds me of a Japanese garden.

The interior of the house is tranquil and relaxing with the Asian inspired décor and neutral colors. Kelly is quite the host, always has been, so when I arrived he naturally wanted to know what I most wanted to do in Seattle. Though there are a million wonderful things to do I’d honestly be pretty content with a bottle of wine and just time to relax in this beautiful setting. It is extremely different than my present, much to busy life, in Valdez, Alaska, where time for reading, writing, and relaxing seem like a last priority. Nonetheless, I was in my favorite city in the U.S. It was time to explore. We headed out for breakfast in Kel’s Lexus SUV. Rick met us there in his convertible BMW. I mention the car details only to point out the obvious. Their lives are quite different than mine. I love the feeling of luxury, not that I’m envious but being here in this way just makes you feel pampered, even when you are doing next to nothing. We have some great meals together, great conversation and then, like that, it’s time for me to head to Tacoma for training. Prior to this trip I had heard only two things about Tacoma. One, from my hair dresser who cautiously told me “Tacoma is icky. I was at a mall there and witnessed a fight and a gun was pulled and everyone hit the ground. And the other comment, “Well, the city used to be negitavely associated with the smells of paper mills and was fittingly labeled, The Aroma of Tacoma. But, I hear they've cleaned that up now. It will be fine.” Cousin Kel. Great, what was this going to be like? Can I just stay in my Seattle sanctuary and take the week long class on line? I was less than thrilled about leaving what seemed like paradise to me for a rotten egg smellin’, gun slingin’ city. But, off I went.

Like, most unknowns I’ve been apprehensive about, I was pleasantly surprised with the reality of Tacoma, a quaint little college town filled with coffee shops, cute neighborhoods, and art galleries. I didn’t notice any unfavorable aromas and never once felt threatened by the people there, however, I never once visited the mall. The University was just gorgeous with old Tudor style buildings and perfectly manicured grounds. Just like Seattle, everything was green and lush and just lovely. On the contrary, it was far from luxurious, far from affluent but, it was just fine, comfortable, and inviting. The neighborhoods remind me of parts of old neighborhoods in San Diego that border downtown. 1920s or earlier architecture, small, but charming. Pretty yards and narrow streets. The dorms were dorms with tiny rooms but with a common area in each suite. A full kitchen and couches made up the shared space which was quite nice compared to my days at the dorm. But, the biggest attraction to this happy little campus was its progressive approach to living. The cafeteria which I had originally dreaded was so diverse. There was something for everyone but most importantly most produce and fruit were organic and locally grown.
There was a vegetarian option for every type of food and half way into my trip they opened a Vegan grill that served breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Imagine that. Vegan food three times a day! The recycle efforts at UPS were state of the art as well. For the few items that couldn’t be recycled, bins for their disposal were cleverly labeled LANDFILL instead of TRASH. Makes ya at least think about it, right? Classes were good. Fellow students were nice. But, the overall experience of being “in college” again in an entirely different fashion was just icing on the vegan cupcake. I loved it there.
Upon leaving UPS I headed back to Seattle for another 2 days with Kel and Rick and like always, it was quite the treat. Rick made us some yummy nachos for dinner before we headed out to see the ballet in downtown Seattle. I was going to the ballet for the first time, with two gay men, how perfect! This is going to be fabulous. And it was. The new McCaw Hall was just gorgeous and the ballet was so incredible. I was very impressed with the live orchestra and the beautifully built sets. The dancers were amazing and the story very sweet, very unique. What a special time. I remember sitting there thinking I should have made a career out of something like this. Not, that my clumsiness would have ever allowed me to be a ballerina. But, I could have played an instrument and been in that orchestra. I could have been a set designer and created that beautiful stage. Hell, I could have been a painter and painted the props, whatever. I should have been creative is the point. And here I am working for municipal government. How did that happen? :)
Saturday was filled with shopping and lunch at the grill in Nordstrom’s. Kel and I each had the tastiest salads, soup, and of course great bread! We talked and laughed about our family, a subject that is always good for a lot of humor. I don’t think we could possibly run out of stories to tell and memories to recall. These moments are always the highlight of my visits with Kelly. I just love remembering things we’ve shared and the deeper look at our Texas roots we often explore. Not, that we are less than proud of our family or upbringing but the reality of how different our lives are now is always good for an hour or two of conversation...minimum. Upon our return home, I decided to grab my laptop and head out to that Japanese garden with a glass of wine and take a stab at describing this trip. And there I was, enjoying the last few moments of my never-to-disappoint-trip to the lovely Northwest when Kelly showed up with wine refill and two homemade cookies. How thoughtful!

If that wasn’t enough he then announced that we’d be staying in for a quiet lobster dinner at home out on the back deck. The Cash-Finer Spa is a five star joint in my book! Too bad, it’s a completely private resort…. :)