Interlude

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan- like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”

- Henry David Thoreau, Walden

(I took these photos in Craig the day before my dad died.  The passage in the center is from Thoreau’s Walden, a book that my dad had ordered online sometime last month.)

Sunday Shenanigans

Alaskans love to complain about the weather.

In Juneau, it’s too rainy or too hot. In Fairbanks, it’s too cold or too smoggy  or… too hot. But I have to admit, it IS hot, which means that being outside necessitates being close to water (preferably a body of water suitable for swimming).

Yesterday was a lovely Fairbanks Sunday, chock full of heat, water, dogs, people….  The morning was spent lazing around the cabin, eating blueberries and vanilla yogurt (my all-time favorite breakfast combination though a slice of sausage would have rounded it out nicely too).

Late morning, my neighbor, Diana, and I loaded up the dogs and headed to Pioneer Park for the annual Mutt March – a fundraiser for the shelter.  It was also Diana’s birthday (happy Birthday, Diana!).  There were probably a couple hundred dogs in attendance… and lots of water bowls filled with water and drool.

Between Diana and myself, we had three pooches – Sadie, Panda, and George. Here is Diana with the crew:

George is an older gentleman (14 I believe), but had a very active libido, which did not endear him to other dogs. Panda, a 13-year-old darling huskey girl was probably the hottest dog – and loudest panter – in the crowd. I’ve never seen such thick fur, but she made it to the end without any sudden detours to the shade like a few other beasts. Sadie was happiest when we reached the banks of the Chena and she beelined it to the water. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything different.

And here we are starting the 2.5 mile march. As you can see, there were loads of dogs:

Water quickly became critical.

And very enjoyable for the swimmers in the bunch:

After the march, it was naptime. I then went to the Beluga Nights concert on the lawn at UAF… But it was too hot to sit outside (even at 7 p.m.), so my friend Sam and I went down to the Tanana and went swimming for a few hours. Actually, it was less like swimming and more like playing in the mud and floating. And drinking beer… and worrying that my energetic little swimmer would get swept away in the currents.

Unfortunately, I left the camera behind for this excursion – next time I think I’ll remember to bring it.

All in all, I would say it was a pretty nice way to spend Sunday. Even if it was a little too hot (not that I’m complaining).

Going home again

Coming back to Alaska after any length of absence is always a bit of a shock, simultaneously serving as a reminder of why I love being here and why it is so hard to be so far away from family and friends. This time it has been particularly shocking, however, and if it weren’t for the hot weather (a few hours ago, I saw a thermometer that read 87 degrees) and days like today… spent fishing with my friend Brian… I think I’d maybe be back on the first flight to Colorado.

As most people out there already know, three weeks (and one day) ago, my dad died unexpectedly. He was too young and too full of curiosity and excitement about life to go… we already miss him terribly and I think my sisters, my mom, and I are still trying to understand the enormity of our loss. In the past weeks, however, I’ve had the good fortune of seeing so many people who knew my dad – several of them I already knew, many I did not. Best friends, colleagues, neighbors, cousins…  My dad wove a truly diverse life, and he will be remembered for it.

I was torn about whether to stay in my lovely home state of Colorado for the rest of the summer or returning North.  In many ways, it would have been an easy decision – Colorado is one of the prettiest places in the world during summer and Coloradoans are a special blend of city weekend warriors and midwestern friendly neighbors. But I decided to come back to Alaska.  I am now in Juneau, a place that isn’t even my home right now, but is as good a place as any to fly into.  It seems a veritable heat wave in Juneau, which takes some planning for outdoor adventure time.  I flew in Friday night, just in time to catch the midnight fireworks display over the Gastineau Channel with my friend Garold.  I left him downtown, driving out to my friend Emily’s sweet little cabin out the road, falling asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

I slept soundly. Actually, it was probably the best sleep I’ve had since mid-June and I woke up more than refreshed the next morning. Saturday I opted against journeying back downtown for the parade (though somewhat intrigued about whether Sarah Palin would show) and instead spent a wonderfully lazy morning drinking coffee and devouring my newest favorite book, The Alienist by Caleb Carr.

I couldn’t stand the idea of letting the rare, clear sunshiny Juneau day slip too much away, however, and so I hiked up to the top of Mt. Juneau… I think it is about a 2 or 3 mile hike up the 3,500 foot mountain. As I ascended, I spent a lot of time thinking about my parents last visit to Alaska about two years ago. I was living in Juneau then and we had a great time visiting bears on Admiralty Island, eating fish and chips at the Sandbar, and taking walks on the docks in the harbors around town.  My legs were hurting as I went up, but I was encouraged by the boundless energy of little Sadie, who often appears exhausted only to get a second (and third, fourth, and fifth) wind as soon as she hears the squeeking sound of a rock creature or the flapping wings of a bird in the bushes.

The view at the top was stunning and I sat on the north side of the peak for about fifteen minutes, looking up the channel and toward the rest of the state. Sadie rolled in the snow and chased some small creatures. I ate a Snickers and wished myself a very happy Fourth of July. It was perfect.

Today was another perfect day (though I doubt Brian would think so).  We went fishing for halibut and did catch one – rather small, but I’m not picky. It was a wonderful day on the water despite the choppy water and the (as it turned out) relatively minor mistake we made in hitting a hidden reef.

It was the kind of day my dad would have loved.  And I’m not quite sure why, but it makes me happy knowing I know that about him.