Alaska Day 4: Sunday

Slow day. We get up pretty late (9am or so). Jennifer has a lovely breakfast awaiting us. The morning bear Will is still in hibernation. We wait around for a bit and since he’s still not up we decide to strike out on our own.

First off we grab one of the 4 wheelers and roam around within a few miles of the cabin.  The novelty of riding two wears off after we notice the warning on the back of the ATV. Shrug… oh well… plus the fact that we’re kinda limited to 30MPH is slightly annoying.

We head on back to home and grab the truck. Eagle Summit is our destination, 50-60 miles north of the cabin. It takes us about an hour or so to get up there. We hike up to the peak where we are absolutely blasted back by the winds. It’s a perfect view of the surroundings however. The sun is just barely peaking from around the clouds and it’s nice and tranquil (beyond the 20-30MPH winds of course).

I play photographer for a bit then head back down to the truck.

On our way back down we hit 12 mile summit for the heck of it. The trailhead notes to stick to the board walk. An interesting term I thought in the beginning before we actually made it to the trail.

Boardwalk = A Trail that you walk on, made from boards

Yeah…. so that’s odd. I guess it makes sense due to the spongy nature of the tundra and the fact that everything freezes over every year. Maintaining a normal trial would be both hard on the tundra and bad for the plantlife.

After that it was out into the White mountain recreation area for some photoshots of the creeks and blueberry pickin’ for entertainment and munchies.

Good times!

Tomorrow it’s a train ride to Denali…. SO EXCITED!!!!

http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4123/4894884467_b545c026a2.jpg

Day 3, Sunday:

It’s off to the Cabin today. We meet up with Will for some breakfast and errands. Grocery shopping at Sam’s Club, and filling up on water for the trip back to the Cabin.

Pretty uneventful. Little did I know what was just down the road.

So we finally make it out to the cabin. Meg I’m sure is wondering how anyone lives so far out in the boonies during the hard winters (I’m still not sure how people manage this feat). We pull up and start getting out of the car. I’m pretty sure that within .02 seconds Jennifer and Will have already managed to get into a giant heated argument that results in Will deciding to walk back to town (60 some miles), and Jennifer going between being pissed about him and
worried all at the same time. Gotta love moms…

Meg and I are literally stepping out of the car wondering WTF just happened.

Anyway… I of course do what I do when I get into heated shit fests of emotion and psychosis (old hat for my relationships with women [thank god this is over {THANKS MEG I LOVE YOU!}]). Drop all semblance of emotion and break things down into things that need to get done.

We need more water cause the last tank had somewhat leaked out on the drive up.

We need to fix the leak.

We need to get more gas.

We need to get back to meet Eldred at Chatanika by 5pm.

I need to get out of here before Meg determines that my family is psychotic and asks to leave on the next flight out.

Keys obtained, plan laid out in my mind. Keys->Ignition-> Gas Pedal.

We’re off. A few miles down the road we get to Will, ploding along in his cowboy boots. I offer a ride… he almost decides to hop in, then starts going off to me about Jennifer…. *Sigh… almost had him*

I don’t even try to convince him.. .pretty sure he’s beyond that and honestly I don’t want to deal with it.

Window up -> Gas pedal to the floor.

Away we go.

We stop by Lowes to pick up some sealant, I tighten up the gasket and lay down some sealant (it’s not going to have time to dry but every little bit helps). Between the two I stop the leak, fill up the 200 gallon tank, top off the gas, head back home.

It’s pretty quiet on the way to town and back. Luckily my co-pilot is like me… just decompressing. We’re both good… (good god I’m lucky to have found someone like her. )

We get back to the cabin, full water tank, Will is apparently back, Jennifer is happy…. Shrug…. We load up the gravity feed, drop the water off, get back in the truck and head down to a lovely dinner.

After dinner we head back to the cabin, I tinker around with some of the stuff that’s not working. Get some of it working, find other stuff that’s not working.

Look at all the stuff that Jennifer says she wants to get fixed before she leaves.

So much to do… so little time.

Meg’s watching me like I’m a sitcom on TV. I’m sure I look completely zany… walking back and forth muttering to myself, thinking about how to fix this, how to fix that.

After several hours of this she finally convinces me to setup up the tent. We drop it into the back of the truck (at least the bear will have to work a little harder to eat us). Fortunately the long bed is EXACTLY the right size. Casa de Gilbrech is erected and loaded with all our creature comforts.

It’s 11:30 and still bright outside… I drift off thinking about ways to fix all the stuff that’s wrong with the cabin.

Day 2, Saturday:
OMG It’s so bright… so early… and I know it’s going to be this way all day and most of the night. *SIGH*
Oh well… Meg and I begin the day roaming around the landing. Cute little place.

We venture off into downtown Fairbanks for breakfast and other tourist fun. We drop by Big Ray’s outfitters for the stuff we couldn’t bring on the plane. Silly airlines not allowing camping fuel and matches in their cargo holds… what are we
coming to these days!? Craziness….

Anyway… I manage to convice meg that we truly need 100%, this will turn your babies into mutants, DEET rather than the pansy stuff that acts more as seasoning to mosquitos. I’ve been exposed to the hordes of hummingbird bloodsuckers up here before and I’m not gonna deal with them if I don’t have to.

Not far from Scale

Of to lunch… delicious fried halibut and rockfish with a HUGE side of Alaskan King Crab legs. I’d hate to meet up with these damned crabs… they look like they steal people’s babies in the night to feed on them amidst the dark undertow. (I’m convinced this is the true reason behind these guys risking it all on “Most Dangerous Catch”).

Anyway… after lunch with Jennifer and Will we roamed around good ol Fairbanks for a little while longer. We drove past a Tea Party get together where they were selling body armor for 100$. I decided to stand fast on not slowing down or turning around to get pictures. (People that don’t trust the government and are selling body armor aren’t exactly the most rational and having someone driving around them taking pictures wouldn’t exactly endear them to us) Last thing I need are a bunch of crazy Alaskans hunting me down in the night cause they think I’m some government agent sent to spy on them.

I would note that my previous impression of people in Alaska is primarily as follows: People that get sick and tired of the lower 48 cause of general rules of society and governance are typically your average Alaskan. This goes for both
sides of the spectrum… but (in my opinion) Alaska is for the crazies, by the crazies and home to the crazies.

This is absurdly judgemental of me… but it’s what I think. *Shrug*

BTW I checked... you can't see Russia from Wasilla

We hit the Museum at the U of A, small place but it had some really great stuff.

GREAT GRIZZLY!!

I only managed to eat Elk, Caribou, Halibut, and Salmon

SO yeah…. I’m down for yet another day. Hopefully tomorrow will be more eventful.

So I’m a few days back now. Frenzy has died down, I’ve gotten some really good
sleep in my REALLY comfey bed. I’ll be happy to not see my tent for a while.

I’m going to attempt to recollect and convey the awesomeness that was Meg and my trip up to the cold frigid northland known as Alaska. Hopefully my aged mind can get it all down with the just right amount of embellishment to sate all you readers.

Day 1, Friday:
Meg and I start out from Tucson via Aeroplane -> Seattle -> Fairbanks. The air events are few and far between (nothing happened except meg putting up with my poor sleeping/snoring company).

We started out late and as such managed to land late (11:45pm). To Meg’s surprise it’s still light outside (think just after sundown). Nothing really prepares you for that… your brain takes a few days just to wrap itself around the whole lack of darkness. Really good blinds where ever you go.

We hopped in to our rental truck of DOOM (F350 Longbed diesel THX DAD!).

After narrowly navigating our of the rental area without Monster trucking through the rest of the cars we headed down to Pikes landing. Our little cabin there was waiting, calling us to dreams and expectations for our near future adventures.

So… short piece of history.

A very years back I helped my father construct his cabin up in Alaska.

Cabin in the Boonies

2 Weeks worth of hard work and here we have you. Well 2 years have past… now I’m up here again on vacation.

BTW The “Great Alaskan Adventure” was synonymous to a “near death trap, narrowly avoided” good times. (As detailed here)

2nd Floor Collapse

So THIS time I decided to take Meg along with me. She can serve as my conscience against doing crazy things that could end in 2nd floors collapsing on me.  So now it’s two weeks of TRUE vacation. So it’s hiking and camping in Denali, some canoeing around fairbanks, some relaxing in the hot springs, and a little roaming around pretending to be a gun toating, card carrying NRA membership owning, crazy Alaskan.

So… yeah… good times….

More to be posted as the rubber meets the road.

2nd Floor Collapse

So I’ve been thrust back into my obsession of reading. The last trip (recorded forever in the previous post) gave me back a reason to dive headlong into a visit with an old friend, the book. After a little Gaiman, and Pauleniuk I decided that perhaps I should try to read something a little more serious. Gaiman I would say preempted this since many of his stories question the nature of reality and how we see it. This particular idea is one that I have always been slightly obsessive about. Interestingly enough I remembered the book, Zen and the art of Motorcycle maintenance. It’s interesting to me since the I was introduced to the idea of that book through a previous exgf, it happened to be the book she was reading while we were on our seriously dysfunctional trip together through Nicaragua.

Normally this probably wouldn’t have been enough for me to remember the book, however during the trip she commented on the fact that she disliked the book and thought that I would actually quite enjoy it. The impact of that statement in particular didn’t really hit me until I started reading the book myself. Indeed it is a book that I have become enamored with (I am currently halfway through and thus observe the right to change my opinion).

So to clarify all this spouting. In general the book is an attempt to impart upon the reader the importance of observation, deduction, reason, and philosophy through the metaphor of motorcycle maintenance. I would say that the metaphor tends to lend itself in many ways to those that are indeed mechanically inclined or at very least very visual people.

I think the core irony of the statement at the core of the reason for my desire to read and understand this book is lodged well within the books plotline and main character. That is, the character amusingly enough has suffered a mental breakdown in his past and had this part of his personality erased via electroshock therapy. Now… I should note that I work with high voltage, have a dark sense of humor, and have a bit of a passion for mechanical things, however none of these contribute my reason for thinking this is funny. The funny thing and irony behind this book is that the main characters break is directly related to traits that I found with my exgf and ultimately were the rational for me determining that she would never be happy with what we had, thereby eliminating any real possibility for a stable and enjoyable relationship.

Too much sanity may be madness. And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be! – Cervantes

That is, an obsession with those things that you are incapable of changing, or unwilling to change could quite be maddening.

Anyway… enough about the old news. Old chapters, closed and finished books.

Reflection is worthwhile and healthy… it keeps the current balanced with the past.

And another crisis averted.

The trip went splendedly. It would have been nice to have more than the random 30 minutes of sunlight that interspersed the following terrential downpours and lightning storms, but alas you can’t order up perfect weather for your vacations. (That would be pretty damned awesome though if you could).

The family all seemed to get along well with my darling Meg. I was surprised that they didn’t give her a severe inquiry session (as they have with others before her). Perhaps she’s just obviously that much cooler, nicer, better…. (I like to think so at least). After some time with my darling new niece (Allissandra [whom everyone calls allie {whom I will call Alice}]) we headed back to New Orleans for our flight back to the desert (or as my sister calls it “The Dirty Dirt”).

Thanks to Meg’s wonderful mom who showed me around the french quarter, I now have a vast appreciation for what NOLA is all about. Definately not my cup of tea.  I LOVE the architecture, however the seediness of the town, in my eyes, spoils it. It did get me to thinking, however.  I wondered about how closely linked culture is to poverty. That is to say, in my view, cultures in modern times (based on race or locale) seem to be strongest in areas that are the poorest.

I primarily think about how most rich or well off neighborhoods are devoid of culture. So far as to whitewash any preceeding culture from the area.  Those areas that I have experienced the most vivid and interesting cultures always seem to be in places where that’s practically all that people have. I suppose it makes sense that when you have little to distract you from who you are/where you came from/what you learned from your family/upbringing, those are the things that you will hold most dear and thus celebrate.

From an imperialistic perspective it seems America seems quite opposing in viewpoint. For instance previous countries went out amidst the world to encounter other cultures, and brought back pieces of those cultures as prizes for those in power or those that had wealth.  Americathese days seems to be more about spreading itself to other countries. We bring others our fast food, our shops, our religion.  To me, here recently it’s a rather interesting analysis due to the eye of the America (the Media) focusing down on my particular ethnicity (hispanics).  Rather than realize the riches that hispanics bring to America, we are blamed for the problems of America (drugs, crime, lack of jobs). Let’s not even think about the fact that drugs are here cause we want them to be (we buy them), crime is here because we don’t have a level playing field for those that are impoverished, and the jobs these people are taking are those that American’s won’t do OR jobs that American employers don’t want to hire American’s for.  In classic history repeating fashion (Irish, Germans, Polish, etc), we have become the new dreaded immigrants, disliked for truly nothing more than the fact that we are new and different. Perfect scapegoats for an immature population.

As with all things, this in time will pass. This economy will level off and subside, hispanics will reach a population point where we are invisible to the next generation, and hopefully perhaps the next time history comes round, we’ll remember what we experienced and not allow it to happen to someone else.

Well…. this post definately wandered off the beated path…. with that… I suppose I’ll close

EJ

So the joyful time of family introductions has come yet again. Another woman to set before the sacrificial altar to be judged and slain or given freedom (ok that may be a little embellished).

Thus far the only gal that has gotten by unscathed from the machinations of doom and dismemberment (there I go again with that embellished reality), I deemed as a little loony. Maybe crazy can sense itself and thus is merry in like company?

To be fair, the fam has pretty well been right on pretty much all accounts prior, much to my own chagrin and annoyance. Kinda like being in the forest and not being able to see the trees. Or in my case simply ignoring the fact that you’re dating a big ball of ticking time-bomb crazy.

So with the inevitable pilgrimage comes hope and dread yet again. Previously I have simply canned the families opinion as not too important (after all as long as I’m happy right?). As I grow older (hopefully wiser), and definitely weirder I am finding that perhaps they can serve as an early (dear god usually they get to meet the women near year one… my consideration for early is somewhat… skewed), warning to me as to if I’ve walked off a ledge and am totally walking in thin air. (I’ve been known to do this from time to time).

Sigh… anyway… It’s time for airplanes, automobiles, gulf oil, family, and awkwardness.

Oh the joy of the family reunion.

EJ

Ok… so learning how to utilize female hair products is a tad annoying.

Bobbi pins, hair ties, bandanas, conditioner, there’s a whole plethora of items that just 1 year ago I never, ever thought I would need to know anything about. Now that I’ve grown my hair out all these things are vital to me not looking like medusa walking about turning people into stone.

I have to say it is nice to have all the complements from women… truly is the only reason that I’ve been letting it grow this long. Every time I think about cutting it there’s some pretty lady that comes up and says… oh your hair is so gorgeous…

Yeah…. it’s a little vain… oh well, add that to my ever growing list of reasons I’m a bad person.

:-p

So it’s officially official.
Meg and I are “cohabitating”, aka living together, aka living in sin, aka I’ve moved in.

YAY!

Moving is such an annoyingly painful process. It’s also really really embarrassing. Especially when you’ve got your significant other helping you move. To preface: I’m a slob… maybe not really far along the slob meter… but definately on it. I tend to keep things I don’t need, cause I think… hey… that random screw might actually come in handy some time. To be fair to me… many have… to be fair to my slobness… there are tons of them that I don’t even know where they are.

I feel a little dirty

If I were more organzied my clutter would probably have 10x the effectiveness that it currently has. Of course I would have to be 10x as anal as I current am not to make that work out. (This doesn’t sound like a winning equation to me).

So yeah…. I have to say it’s weird moving in with someone. I’ve never actually done it before. Sure people have moved in with me plenty of times. The actual reverse has only happened…. hrmmm…. now.

FUN FUN FUN

Plus there’s all the wonderous stuff that I actually want to hold on to. Wedding pictures and photo albums… I’m pretty sure this is normal… that was a big part of my life for quite a while. Part of me feels a little guilty for holding to the past. Shrug…. it’s hard to tell what is what sometimes.

It is nice to have an excuse to just throw away so much stuff that I didn’t need. (There was A LOT of THAT) Moving into someone elses house gives me just enough guilt to overcome the desire to keep ridiculous stuff (oh my old lab notebooks… those are… wait… useless… TRASH).

All the while I’m looking over my back trying to catch horrified glances from Meg. I keep thinking she’s going to freak out and head for the hills. To her credit (and maybe just proof that I’m not as bad as I think I am), she’s still here, helping me move, still here at night holding me tight.

Lucky lucky me