me gusta me gusta me gusta me gusta

The subject line is a song where the lyrics are just that... weird.

Since I wrote last here is what has happened:
I got scuba diving certified, visited Tyrona National Park in Northern Colombia and slept in a hammock, took the much advised to avoid overnight bus to San Gil, Colombia known for its adventures to stay there for a while. I had read about this place in National Geographic Adventure. The town was beautiful, set on the most dramatically vertical hill, with these trees that had grey strings growing out of it. (Hard to describe). While there I went paragliding off some cliff where the guide gave me the most thrills of anyone (spins, drops, swirls). I went rafting on a river that was class III through V. I cracked up inside that the guide only spoke Spanish except for the necessary rafting commands and that I was about to embark and a very dangerous river in Colombia! We practiced rescues before going. However, only one person fell out of the boat. I got knocked around pretty bad, those were some MASSIVE rapids. It was FANTASTIC! I went repelling down a waterfall that was HUGE. It had three parts to it, we went down the middle one right in the middle of the falls so I got good and wet. Again, the guide only spoke Spanish... but it was great. Then I went exploring in a cave. I have been in caves before, but this was something else. We all had helmets with lights on it and that was ALL the light we got. We waded through water, squeezed through incredibly tight spaces, and again the guide only spoke Spanish. At one point we had to grab a rope, hold our breath and go under the water as someone pulled the rope with you attached through a small hole. That was freakin´ scary! Cause it was a longer under water tow than I had expected. Another part we had to go through a passage only a two feet high. So a few of us rolled through it, some others crawled army style. I have never been so down and dirty in a cave before, it was awesome.

Then I sadly left San Gil and all the amazing people there to go back to the coast to Barranquilla for Carnaval. You all know of the big Carnaval in Brasil right? Barranquilla is 2nd behind Rio and I decided to couchsurf. What an idea that was. It turned into something like 30 couchsurfers all partying together for four days. However only me and three Chileans stayed with our host Dina. Now I can not party like these folks here, and the Colombians can party, nor do I want to. Caranval was full of foam fights, water tossing, colors, and everyone enjoying themselves. It started on a bad note when one of our couchsurfers was literally attacked with foam and had his video camera stolen. The parades were so long! 5 hours every day of dancing and music! Every day was different too. I spent most of my time with the Chilean boys. We had foam fights with kids at the parades, with each other, and at night during the dancing. The music was ridiculously loud all the time so I pretty much lived in my ear plugs. Everyone else had problems the following days with their ears. But that is the Caribbean for you, they are a different type of people here in Colombia. The difference between someone from the Caribbean and someone from Bogota is unreal.

I was very sad to part from my Chilean friends, one in particular, but that is the way of traveling. I took the, again highly unadvised only in the US because US is incredibly ignorant to what it is really like in Colombia, night bus to Bogota after Carnaval and stayed with another couchsurfer. By this time I was incredibly sick with a stupid cold. I had very little energy but managed to enjoy a little bit of the city and figured out the buses. I went to a Salt Cathedral in a nearby town. Basically there is this salt mine, a massive massive salt mine, and they decided to carve out a cathedral. So I am walking in this salt mine, the walls are salt, the crosses are carved into the salt, and things were lit up with blues and greens. There were neat sculptures in sandstone added and there was a lot of significant relgious overtones I was told about, though the cathedral is specifically for tourism and not a real cathedral. They had a balcony for a choir and apparently have concerts there often, classical concerts and the acoustics are supposed to be amazing because of the design of the actual cathedral. Though my pictures kind of suck because it was so dark in there, it was a pretty neat thing to see.

I was told at the beginning of Mr.and Mrs. Smith they showed a scene of a jungle and labeled in Bogota and that pissed of the president of Colombia a lot. Colombia is amazingly safe. I feel safer here than in Panama. Everyone likes that I am here and are more than willing to help (see story below). Bogota has some crime, but so does New York. The hostels are in a dangerous area so at night it is common for people to get robbed, but if you´re smart that won´t happen to you. I couchsurfed in Bogota and therefore didn´t have any problems. I stayed in a different area and was with locals the whole time. The only problem I had was not being able to afford some things. The beer was the same price as Alaska! They have very nice ritzy places to eat. There is poverty of course, but there is a lot of classy western culture here as well. And Bogota is HUGE! Not a jungle. I am annoyed that I actually cared about what I read about Colombia... it being unsafe, night buses are bad, bad things are likely to happen to me. Bad things happen in all countries, and Colombia still has problems, but it is unlikely I will ever meet anyone from the FARC, see a coke plantation, or have my bus hijacked. Peru maybe. I also met up with a friend I had studied abroad in Ghana with in Bogota. I hadn´t seen her since the program three years ago and she had just gotten to Bogota to teach English only a few days before me. Small world.

I am now in a place called Armenia, Colombia in a part called Zona Cafetera. It was a nine hour bus ride through mountains to get here, and a beautiful ride if I may say. I wanted to see a coffee plantation, the place where all you folks get your stuff. However, I didn´t know where to go. There is a place call the National Parque Del Cafe... this is where everyone expected me to go. This place is ridiculous. They have rollercoasters, theme park stuff, gondolas, just crap built around a small coffee plantation. So I go to this information area and was handed brochures and nothing was fitting to what I was looking for. I went to eat and just as I was leaving I came back to use the bathroom. The guy who works there and checked me out starts to talk to me in English. Suddenly two other gentlemen are talking to me in English too, all wanting to help me, curious to know where I am from and why the hell I am crazy enough to be traveling alone. The first guy was going to have me go to a town a hour away to see the plantations there, but another guy tells me its too far (everyone thinks everything is far... jeez, even my 20 hour overnight bus ride is too long for most folks in Bogota... for me its a simple, cheap way to get around. Didn´t have to pay for accommodations that night and woke up where I needed to be.) So I take the second guy´s advice to go to Montenegro.

I didn´t realize till I was almost to Montenegro on the bus that the second guy didn´t know I had no intentions in stepping foot in the Parque. And that is what was in Montenegro. I turn to the girl next to me to ask her if there was another plantation I could visit. She only spoke Spanish, suddenly I find myself following her to where her sister works, she takes me to her house which is a tomato farm, she feeds me, walks around with me for an hour and half to nearby farms, a coffee plantation asking the people to let me in and take pictures, walks to me back to town and helps me buy good coffee, and takes me to the bus. All our conversations were in Spanish (I need improvement, my ability to understand sucks, but never fails if they write it I understand it, but who wants to constantly write stuff down for someone?) She was fantastic with speaking slow and using simple words. By the time I got home I was kicking myself for not getting an email or some way to get a hold of her again. I mean she spent the WHOLE DAY with me just because.

The next day I went to a small town called Salento just to explore and be in a small colonial village. I walked up some hill to an overlook spot where there was a swing set so I sat there looking over the tiny little pueblo. I asked a guy to take my picture there and suddenly I have a friend for the day again. He only spoke Spanish, he took me on some unpaved trail (this place is full of mountains and hills, lots of country side) to see the valley behind the town better. I was thinking ¨this is crazy, I am following a strange guy on a back trail somewhere...¨ But all was okay. I played with some cows, enjoyed an amazing view, ate a fruit called lulu (very sour)and then he took me to the near by shops in town. I met his family, walked all over the town (which took only 20 minutes) and got on the bus and said goodbye with no problems. He may have had a hidden agenda but he never acted on it, but the girl didn´t so this is just a common thing of kindness I see. Not to mention the buys from the shop in Armenia who I shared breakfast with again this morning.

Because I took such a long time in Central America I only have a month left and I wanted that whole month for Peru. So I decided to cut out Ecuador all together and I am flying from Bogota to Lima on Saturday. I am sad to miss Ecuador, but I will be happier to not feel rushed in Peru. I mean, I should be spending three months in Peru with all the things I want to do, but I´ve narrowed it down to things I can fit in a month.

So far I have slept in 20 different places: beds, floors, where ever but not including over night buses. I have met people from 21 different countries (I counted last night). I have a pros and cons list to traveling alone. At times it is very very lonely, but I couldn´t have done a lot of the things I did with someone. I have a lot more freedom when meeting people and going places. But it is more expensive by far to travel alone. I take taxis alone, sometimes when there isn´t a hostel to stay in for dorm prices I have to take a whole room to myself which costs more than if shared. But I am doing just fine and still content to be traveling alone.

I hope everyone is well and sorry if this got a little long. Take care.

Canals, Boats, Colombia!

I have done so much since the last blog I don´t know how to cram everything in one blog. So I think I will give some delayed updates of my travels when I get home. Before I type a ton I have questions about gifts. I am just starting to buy stuff for your fine folks at home and I was wondering what people even want! There is most commonly jewelry from the street, its beautiful stuff, but do the ladies like that kind of thing? (my lady friends that is). I also bought these amazing Chinese ink sketches of scenes around Cartagena, Colombia. I buy things I like and think are amazing pieces of art, so hopefully you will too. Otherwise tell me what you want. My other ideas for gifts were hammocks if I can find decently priced, good quality ones. And of course Colombian coffee!!! Anyone want the same stuff you buy in the store only by passed the middle man of grocery stores? Anyone?? Seriously, email me on the things you may want from here or suggestions of things to look for. I am not buying things with anyone in mind, I figured it would just be divided up in the end by whoever wants want. If you want something, email me.

My latest experiences in the brief (it´s long but trust me, it is briefed):

I couchsurfed in Colon, Panama for a few days and then went back to Panama City to book a boat through a hostel there. The hostel was awesome, great atmosphere. I then got on a boat with five dudes and one captain and sailed for three days to San Blas islands off of the Panama coast where loads of Kunas, native people in the Carribean live. The islands were all small and some would have maybe one to four families on it. We would buy fish from people who rowed in long kayaks up to our sail boat. The water was something from a Corona commercial and I snorkeled in a school of fish so dense I couldn´t see through them. (like in Finding Nemo... the mob of fish that spoke as one and floated into designs). But the boy crew were stupid crew, they were inconsiderate, sometimes snotty to the captain, got loads of things dirty and wet (my things and the captain´s things) and didn´t seem to care much. Hernando, our captain, said it was the worst journey in his eight years and the dirtiest his boat had ever been. I didn´t like those boys at all. They were into partying late into the night, drinking lots, and had all kinds of stories of all the drugs they´ve done since they were 14. Not even hippy types, just impatient uptight folks. None of them except the two Canadians knew each other before hand either. I still seem them around because I am on what is called the Gringo trail but soon I will lose them.

After San Blas, and eating a 100 year old turtle that was inhumanly and illegal killed by the Kuna, we set sail for our two day, turned into three day, trek in open water to Cartagena, Colombia. I got a little sea sick but didn´t throw up. Hernando is a classic gentleman and paid special attention to me because I was a girl, and the only girl. In contrast to the insensitive men it was a godsend and it felt really nice. I was weirded out at first, but he was a wonderful man that I spent extra time with in Cartagena with his daughter and wife. Our sail broke from the strong wind we had, and then ironically the wind died away for 12 hours. We replaced the sail but sat not moving for a long time so my five day trek was now six.

In Colombia my passport was taken and not returned to me until the next day because of the immigration chaos here. No worries for me, I was happy to be on land after not having showered in six days, eaten in three days, and had remained wet so long I developed a rash on my bottom.

I went to the popular hostel in Cartagena alone, ditching the boys ASAP and it was full. However, some other nice folks (two from Alaska, one Brit, and one Canadian... and yes it was incredibly ironic to meet Alaskans here, the first ones!) literally walked me to another hotel for me, helping me carry my stuff which I had separated into two bags... wet and gross and still usable. I had a glorious shower there and washed my things and laid everything out everywhere since I was alone. It took two days before feeling like I was still on the boat to fade away.

I moved into the popular hostel the next day and then hung out with my new friends. I actually only continued to hang out with the Canadian, a girl... one of few I have met, traveling alone. There are more guys than girls traveling, few are alone, most are couples.

Colombia.... madly misrepresented. I am so pissed I listened to anyone who talked about Colombia negatively. Some people do know English, it isn´t that cheap anymore, I have felt safer here than I did in Panama, taxis don´t rip you off, people talk to you all the time, and I hear non stop music from everywhere! In the old city of Cartagena its a maze of colonial buildings that are so beautiful I think I took about a 100 pictures of just buildings. They have drumming and Afro Colombian dancing in the main plaza everyday!

While there I went to a mud volcano to have a mud bath. I met an incredibly friendly Swiss girl there and she was my buddy for the day. We sat in this muck you couldn´t sink in, had some guy rub the mud into your skin, which apparently is very good for your skin. Another guy has your camera and takes your picture, then you go to the ocean and people are there helping you wash the mud off. It was an interesting experience.

I went to Santa Marta next and stayed in a hotel I knew the gringos wouldn´t go to. I needed to get away from these people whose personalities seem alike to me. They LOVE drinking late into the night, sleeping half the day, their intentions here are vastly different from mine and most are cruising either from South America north or Central America south, so fast they breeze through countries spending just a few days at a time. Blows my mind. I am here to learn the culture and enjoy it, participate in it! So I met up with friends I made off of couchsurfing in Santa Marta and had an amazing squid dinner with them... we bought and cooked it ourselves. Yum. I moved to Taganga three days ago to get my scuba diving open water certificate. Most places you start in a pool, but here I started in the ocean and was diving my first day. I have done six dives and have seen so many amazing fish and coral, so many colors and bizarre things I can´t wait to look up later. I have a water housing for my camera but won´t risk taking it 60 feet under water so no underwater pictures of this.

Taganga is a small fishing village that is highly touristy for other Colombians and south Americans. I was the only American I knew of here until just an hour ago when I met a guy who stayed in my room last night and will go diving with us tomorrow... I didn´t actually get introduced until today though we talked all yesterday, he was from Wisconsin! ha. He didn´t seem to care too much that I was from there too.

So I wish I had more time to write interestingly, I am just spitting out things as I remember it as fast as possible to get back to studying for my exam tomorrow and to catch the music at the beach. One night I was sitting at a restaurant journaling and watching the life pass by me on the street and suddenly these amazing drumming sounds dominate all other sounds. They were on the balcony of the bar next to where I was. It was so cool, the percussion and the dancing of locals. It is a different type of music that sounds like African drumming... really fast paced rhythms, and a clarinet player being the only source of melody. The clarinet almost sounds middle eastern, but not quite. It´s so off on its own genre from here I had never heard anything like it to compare it to and describe it to someone who hasn´t heard it. Luckily I videoed some of it. Now I just need to not loose my camera again until I back that up.

That´s all for now. I changed my plans in Colombia to revolve around Carnival, same time as the Brazilian one, but there is one really big one here close to Santa Marta. I have to go, it´s the best way to see and experience this culture. I have some local friends to go with too which is nice. Some gringos as well. Email me about gifts!

It rains when it is sunny in Panama

Hola!

I am a bit tired to write you an immense story, but I will update you. After volunteering I went back to San Jose, Costa Rica and stayed with a friend of a friend (thanks Elise!) for a week because her family was so nice and wonderful and I fell in love with her five dogs. While I was with her I saw volcanoes and ruins of churches, etc. She lived closer to where the earthquake happened and her family have a farm in the area that was like a box of contents that was shook real hard. I didn't see it, just in pictures.

Then I bused to Panama, met a Japanese guy on the bus and stayed with him in a hotel due to booked up hostels. We traveled together for three days around Panama City, then we to Colon together to find a boat. I couchsurfed there were a local who spoke 11 languages!

Backing up, in Panama City while marveling over architecture that looked straight from the end of the movie "Great Expectations" I got my camera snatched from my hands. However, a mop of police showed up, I reported the incident and they found the camera because they pressured the people to give up his name and he dumped the camera. I was incredibly lucky. All the pictures were recovered, plus the one he took. The police were so much fun too, they drove me everywhere and tried to talk to me in Spanish, and I tried to respond. They stopped every time they saw a foreigner, talked to them and then said "they your friends?"

So in Colon I didn't really wander anywhere alone, it is a dangerous area. I was going to get a boat there but found one back in Panama City. So I travelled back here and am staying at a really awesome hostel and leaving tomorrow for the boat. I will sail for five days stopping at some islands (San Blas islands) for a day and a half.

Panama has very nice people here, very helpful. I am impressed by their helpfulness. Even when my camera was stolen, I shouldn't have been in that area to begin with but even the people of that street wanted to help me recover the camera. Taxis will try to cheat you but I know how to bargain now. The service in restaurants is horrible though. I found that most people in Colon prefer not to work, they are very lazy. My friend in Colon owns a hotel and was looking to hire someone. People called his phone constantly, but hung up after one ring and expected him to call them about the job. He never did, but it shows how little people know about professionalism.

I will do my best to keep on updating. Take care in the cold my friends.

Amanda

The Costa Rica Experience

Costa Rica is a hub of international travelers, backpackers, nomads of likes no different than Europe. I was blown away immediately by the prices and how easily I was being ripped off by taxis and hostel owners (being New Years and all). I have only been alone one night since I´ve arrived and that was more intentional than anything. I arrived in San Jose and took a bus and a taxi to a couchsurfer´s house to find two other couchsurfers already there. One from Czech Republic and the other from France. I spent New Years on a beach with the Czech girl and two random girls from Norway. I shared a cockroach ridden room that consisted of only three mattresses on the floor, no room for our stuff in the room with Czech girl and two Australians, no blankets or pillows and was charged $8. I was relieved to arrive at Rainsong Sanctuary and stay in one place for a while.

My intentions with the volunteering was to practice my Spanish and work with animals. I ended up doing more planting and gardening than anything and no other volunteers spoke much Spanish. However, it was fun in its own right. There were loads of problems with the place in which I won´t talk much about because it only means something to those of us who volunteered, but what I got out of it was meeting some interesting people from all of the states and Canada and an opportunity to literally play with exotic animals. There was a Kinkajou (a nocturnal creature that was utterly adorable) who had been electrocuted, a one armed white faced monkey that was in his sexual state of being and thus liked to affectionately bite the ladies, an ocelot which is a cheetah looking cat that is a bit bigger than a house cat but smaller than a cheetah who had been hit by a car and was missing an eye, 4 baby porcupines the size of a fat house cat, a baby anteater about the same size, two parrots, a toucan that can´t fly, a skunk, raccoons, two baby deer, loads of parakeets, 30 some red river turtles, and baby chickens and a guinea pig for the kitty to eat. There was a separate farm that had peacocks, birds, chickens, and god knows what else. When I was up there I was only working it plants.

During my week there I visited a three tiered waterfall, the last and tallest you could hang over the drop point and look straight down. People jumped off the middle one and there was a rope swing at the top pool. (Three pools below each fall). We had to hike in jungle like vegetation to get there which was fun. I snorkeled three times, twice with locals. The two times with locals was to go fishing with spear guns, homemade ones. Both guys got a fish but we only ate one that night. I don´t know the name of it but it was big and red and tasted more like chicken than fish and was very filling. Had loads of bond fires on the beach or at the hut on a hill, with a clear sky overhead every night.

It was so humid in Cabuya I was sticky all the time. It was also incredibly hot. There is a hole in the ozone layer here so I was constantly globed in sunscreen and seeking shade all day. However, days are short. The sun rises at 5am and sets around 5pm, so once its dark there´s suddenly nothing to do. Most volunteers went to bed at 8:30 or so. This is their summer as well, the dry season. Things in Cabuya and with Rainsong were spaced out so I walked a lot. The beach was very very very rocky, dangerous to swim in and shouldn´t be walked in without shoes so there weren´t many foreigners hanging around. The bugs were super cool. We had two places to stay, the long-termers stayed way up in a hut that was a haven for everything cool and weird. There were walking sticks, bugs that looked like leaves, crazy unidentifiable and terrifying ones, large harmless spiders that were kind of pretty, a boa constrictor, and just tons of stuff. There was also a national park that we walked through, took two hours or so to walk to the end of the trail to the beach there. We saw howler monkeys and white faced monkeys and things unidentifiable by us. However, this park, which is basically preserved rainforest, was the most humid part. It wasn´t a hike for the unfit either. I think I lost five pounds in sweat alone.

The worst part about being here is I am some how prone to mosquito and bed bug bites. Not just a few, but lots that swell and become excruciatingly itchy. My feet were attacked this time by both. I wore a smokey smelling top to bed that protected my upper body. No one else had problems and no one else had a mosquito net, go figure I actually was the one who had the problems. My feet were ravaged in bites to the point where shoes were incredibly uncomfortable to wear. I used an anti itch cream on them and it burned one into an open sore which never healed since I was constantly going in the ocean. They are healing now that I´m in San Jose and taking better care of my feet, but the bed bugs are still following me, even in clean places.

Cabuya was a really good time, and I almost didn´t go because I really didn´t like Costa Rica when I got here. All the backpackers and obnoxious travelers pissed me off and buses were so crowded I had to sit for hours at a time in the aisle. I did meet a bunch of awesome backpackers mind you, and bonding has happened on every bus ride it seems, but sometimes when I´m walking around and observing behaviors of these other tourists I hear ignorant comments constantly. Americans are really loud. You can hear them a mile away. But I am very glad I went to Rainsong despite its frustrations. I will remember Tarzan and Kinky for the rest of my life (the monkey and Kinkajou). The people were all incredibly amazing and from the most varied backgrounds. I learned a lot about the disrespect seen with wildlife and rainforest in Costa Rica, the governments lack of assistance to preserve or prevent tragedies, and the Costa Rican way of life which is laid back, without time frame, and chummy. Everyone is always greeting everyone else.

There was also an earthquake of 6.1 magnitude 20 miles outside San Jose that happened a few days ago. It WAS on cnn.com cause I read about it there on top of hearing the locals talk about it. People keep telling me they didn´t hear anything about it. 20 some people died and Costa Rica is in a state of emergency because of it, but you wouldnt´t notice being away from where it happened. People just go on with life mentioning it from time to time.

Aside from the volunteering not much has been done since days are wasted in travel and I am chilling with locals in San Jose. Saves money and allows me to see how every day people live. I am preparing to go to Panama soon and stay a night or two in David, then on to Panama City where I´ll try to find a boat to sail on to Colombia. I have to apologize for how boring I made all this sound, but its hard to sit and right out all the amazing things I´m seeing and experiencing. Computers are hard to sit yourself in front of for long periods of time due to price and just wanting to be out experiencing more. However, I´ll do my best to keep a log for you. I hope everyone had a happy new year and are finding ways to stay warm. Alaska is in the negative double digits right now and it doesn´t sound like Minnesota and Wisconsin are much better.

My Fall of 2008

After 3 months of hanging in Anchorage and bumming around I came back to the midwest and spent time with my friends in Minnesota before heading home for Christmas. It was nice to see everyone again! I'm making this really short because I didn't want to start blogging about my next adventure without a transition blog. I'm heading down to South America! Starting out in Costa Rica and coming back from Peru. Next blog will be from down there.

I just bought me a pair of Palin specs

Since I've returned to Anchorage I had some time to sit down and write about the events of the summer. I realized after my writings got too long that, though the experiences are amazing to me, they may not be for you to read. So, I wrote about just a few of them.

Summer is officially over, and so is fall, in Alaska. I have already moved back to Anchorage and figuring out the next step. The leaves are already falling covering up roads and biking trails and I wake up to frost every morning which lasts till noon or later.

The whole month of July was rainy and therefore I didn’t do much of anything and our company didn’t do much flying. I attempted a few bike rides on good days between the rains and found myself sinking like Artax in mud and having to haul my bike across small streams that washed out roads on the paths I would take. Lost the bike to a creek

I did do some hiking to pass time even though not every day was a nice one, I saw awesome stuff like Dall Sheep and got more intimate with the wonders in the park and outside the park



On top of Mt. Margaret where I saw all those Dall Sheep

On top of Sugarloaf mountain

Doing hiking around Polychrome in the park.

Then something happened. Fall. Summer is short here, fall comes early and ends fast. Suddenly the rains became less frequent and the sun showed itself a little more near the end of the summer. Colors were changing and I found myself wanting to go camping. So like awaking to spring, I awoke to fall and had a second wind of frolicking in nature. I recruited some people to come with me to the Denali Highway, a 135 mile potholed, gravel road starting (or ending) in Cantwell which is about 30 miles south of the Denali National Park Entrance. It was used once upon a time before the George Parks Hwy existed for motorists to get to Denali National Park. Denali Hwy ceased to be a main access road when George Parks Hwy was constructed in the 70s, which is now the main road that connects Anchorage to Fairbanks. Now, the Denali Hwy is used for people going out for some huntin’ and us tourist/nature lovin’ folks to camp along. It is literally a road of Alaska wilderness for 135 miles. We drove 80 miles down the Hwy and back in two days. I am very happy to have bought my car because it really got me around and gave me the opportunity to see some of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen in my life. I cannot begin to describe the awe I felt while looking out into the distance at the mountains and the turning colors of the tundra that lay out in all directions. They were mostly a deep red, but of course greens, yellows, and oranges blazed on the hillsides as well. Imagine that up against the grey and white mountains and blue sky.

Red landscape of the Denali Hwy

Both nights we were blessed with clear skies and no light pollution to take away from our star gazing. We built fires each night, and JJ and Molly entertained us all night long with a guitar and songs. The blueberries were so plentiful out here that on our little hike we gathered two baggies full which we ate all night and mixed with our oatmeal in the morning. Had we driven 20 more miles down we would have met up with the Alaskan pipeline. This particular trip was sort of a key moment of my summer here in Alaska where I started realizing that I may to return to this place. I had good company, I was learning a lot, and the eye and ear candy was amazing. It’s been a long time since I have been around people who were happy to be outdoors and identify plants and animals. One of the nights we had a bird continually swoop in front of my car, probably confused by the headlights, and I heard everyone trying to identify it. We were trying to find a specific spot to camp and found ourselves a little later being lead down the dark dirt road by an owl (possibly a hawk owl) who kept landing in front of my car until I got close enough to make him fly a little further down where he would again, land in the road causing me to have to stop for him. We decided that owl would lead us to our camping site.

One happy group of people

A few days later a filming crew was at work making videos for a promotional company called Channel 2 Alaska (which was the first interview I had here, the reason I came here, and the job I turned down to work for this flight seeing company in Healy). We had no summit flights booked at 3pm to make a video so we called around and filled a plane full of employees, or comps as we call them, from around the area. I got to go on this flight and our job was to be very happy and giddy while the camera man in back filmed us. Another plane went up with another camera to film the plane we were in. This was my second summit flight of the season, my first I didn’t see too much and McKinley’s summits were clouded over. This particular day was clear as Time Square the day after New Years. I hadn’t expected to be on a flight this day but I had my camera, which of course I never leave behind anywhere. We flew over the park and my jaw dropped in amazement at the reds that powdered the tundra. Not being one who goes in the park all the time I hadn’t known how drastically the colors had changed in the park. Given the Denali Hwy was changed. The two areas are not the same in climate, they are on different sides of the Alaskan range, they are at different elevations, and receive different precipitation because of the mountains. Everywhere you go in Alaska you see something different happening with the vegetation because of all the above. It was a pleasant surprise to see how beautiful the park had become with arrival of fall. And the icing on the cake was coming into site of the majestic “High One” known as Denali.

A view from the air

Our pilot, Dave Wiewel, is one of the kindest people I know and instead of dismissing us as just a bunch of park bums he still educated us on the flight by pointing out the glaciers we passed, explaining the phenomenon of moraines in glaciers (where two glaciers meet together and push up sediment forming a ridge in the middle of the glacier). We flew so close to the mountain you felt like you could reach out of the plane and touch it. Out one window were the snowy peaks that some people only dream about seeing and the other window the other plane filming us with Denali as our backdrop. We were pretty much playing in the air, the two pilots communicating and flying to get the best shots, and also looking for the different climbing camps and landmarks of the mountain like Wickersham Wall. We circled the mountain seven times or more, more than the average flight seeing tour would, before the camera men were satisfied with their footage and we returned home. Having had time to chit chat before the flight took off, some of the employees and friends of mine were talking about recent camping trips in the park, so good ol’ Dave decided to fly over them on the way back so we could see the areas from the air. It was absolutely amazing! I have never seen such a plethora of color so beautifully proportioned you could only find it in nature.

The rest of the summer included a bunch of festivals, mostly bluegrass festivals and all of them required camping out, an amazing backcountry trip full of adventure, naming glaciers, falling down rock faces, seeing McKinley in full glory from the ground where it seemed to dominate the landscape (all other sightings were from the air or from much much further away), beautiful outings, and one last backpacking hurrah in Kachemak State Park at the tip of the Kenai Peninsula, across the bay from Homer. There I not only saw an amazing glacier, I played on it, ate its century old ice, skinny dipped in a glacier filled lake, listened to the thawing crackle of ice one morning, used a tram to cross a raging "creek", and crossed the crotch high creek again by getting in it (it was the second coldest I've ever been... first was when I did the overnight bike ride in the park close to solstice). I'm not going to lie, I wasn't too excited about crossing this river/creek, but we went in twos and swallowed the pain of cold flowing water and crossed that bad boy, congratulating ourselves when we got to the other side because we were close to writing the river/creek off as too swift and deep to cross. Sadly, all my euphoric and heroic pictures were lost along with my camera which did not return with me on the ferry back to Homer. Luckily Molly had hers so I can cherish these memories. :D

I saw many many rainbows this summer

Molly meandering her way up to our camp site.

The awesome campsite with a glacier as our backdrop.

So red and pretty

Alaska tundra in fall

Molly looking at Denali on our last leg of our two day hike

Denali

Kechemak Glacier

That'd be me a little closer to the glacier

That'd be me on the glacier


So this wasn’t short, but I sure tried. I didn't mention the missing girls in the park cause they aren't worth writing about. I didn't talk about Palin but I can admit she scares me and that's all the media talks about here. My title refers to the advertisments in paper to get me some authentic Palin specs. They're also looking for look alikes and asking if anyone has photos of her from whenever they've run into her. What now you ask? I have no idea. I'm spending my time in Anchorage doing as much biking as I can to avoid driving. In case you were wondering Alaskans (again media tells me this) are pretty ticked that we have oil here yet our gas prices are much grander than you lower 48 folks. Though I did a little jig yesterday cause they finally dipped below $4/gallon for ONCE. The highest I saw it this summer was something like $5.63 something/gallon at the more pricey gas station in Healy. Lucky for me, Anchorage has a trail system that nagivates through the city so I don't have to be sharing the road with traffic and I can hear my ipod as I bike through tree domed passages, my tires crunching on the fallen golden leaves as I meander to whatever the destination. I probably have a week of this before it snows. It already snowed in Healy since I left.

Forgive me to everyone, especially my family, for not being in touch. I owe a lot of you emails. However, this is typical of me. Hopefully this catches everyone up on things. You know how to get ahold of me. Until next time. And sorry if any of you are offended by the cartoons.

Just photos

My beautiful drive to Homer back in the beginning of May... the calmest I've ever seen the ocean

View from out house in Homer

Bill's prized kill hanging out in the basement where I stayed in Anchorage

one of a million people who took this similar photo in Seward, AK

The last hike I got in before my stupid accident

My life at the beginning of my Healy adventure

I still managed to get around

A not as gruesome photo of my foot... I'll spare you the very tragic looking ones. This may be offensive enough to some.

a bus ride in this tiny park called Denali National Park, ran into some caribou that leisurely enjoyed some road crossing



cute little baby owls

Came across these antlers on display... two bull moose went at it over a lady and killed each other, their antlers got locked together and they died probably thinking "damn, that hurt and I didn't even get to procreate"

If you look close enough you'll notice part of the antler of one of the moose went through the eye socket of the other moose. The moose who's eye got taken out's antler went through it's enemy's cheek.

I didn't have to steal this one from the internet.

Oh these were just left on the road for us tourist folk to play with