McNeil River

It seems hyperbolic to call this the trip of a lifetime, after having spent so much time in so many wonderful places.  Suffice to say, this one was a standout.

B. and I entered the lottery in January while getting fishing licenses.  As detailed on the website, the lottery it for a small number of permits to travel to and stay in the sanctuary.  The permit itself is quite inexpensive.  The cost comes from the flight there – over an hour across the Cook Inlet from Homer, past Mt. Augustine. 

http://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=viewinglocations.mcneilriver

We didn’t win the lottery, but were waitlisted.  Surprisingly, we were notified that we could fill two open slots in May, during the first week guests are permitted (6/7-6-10).  It seems that these are less popular, on the assumption that the bears aren’t out.  Au contraire!  The bears aren’t on the McNeil River proper.  Rather, they are happily chasing the early red salmon run on the smaller Mikfik Creek.

 

We were joined by five more bear watchers and two staff, down from their usual three staff.  Budget cuts.  Three of our troupe had been to the refuge before, and had lots of good advice.  I really appreciated the way people pulled together.  Rather than trying to juggle around doing everything solo, all the guests shared in cooking, cleaning, hauling water from the creek, purifying the water, and starting up the wood burning stove in the cook shack.  Really, it was quite plush.  The wood burning sauna was a huge treat in the evenings, and the only version of a bath we had.

But we were here for the bears.  Oh my the bears!  And the fish, the bald eagles, the fox, and the wolf.

It’s amazing how hundreds of pounds of mammal can just disappear in the sedge flats.  Then two little fuzzy ears will pop up – right where you would have sworn there was no bear.  And how little interest in humans these bears take.  The Refuge is just that, and these bears do not associate humans with food, hunting, or any other activities.  They just ignore us.  We sat on a gravel bar in Mikfik creek, with bears crossing on either side of us as the fished for the reds.  Thy passed within 50 feet.  It was astonishing and amazing.

Also discovered that my tent can withstand 40 mph sustained winds.  Thanks Pam!

 

 

 

Conversations with Friends about Clothing

Since coming back to the US and taking up a full-time job (plus a condo!), it's been an adjustment to try to hang on to the ideas I love, while shedding objects.  The desire to live lightly is strong.  But I find that having to have "office appropriate" clothing is pretty different from travel appropriate clothing.  One of the ways I've worked to find a balance between needs/wants/minimalism was to institute a quarterly swap (aka Naked Lady Party).  No money gets exchanged.  Everyone comes, brings their still good but not currently used goods, and trades for ones that might be used.  We started with clothes, but it's progressed to shoes, accessories, books, housewares....  It's fun and wonderful.  Plus we eat and drink and enjoy the company.  It led to the following email exchange:

V: I think I’m going to throw in the towel when it comes to heels. Ultimately, I like the idea of them a lot, but I’m not at ease in them, they make my calves tight (which is already a battle for me to prevent plantar fasciitis from coming back), most are painful, and I’m too hard on my shoes to justify spending a lot of money on comfortable but ultimately still delicate shoes. The ideal shoe for me is one that gets better with “character” aka creasing and scuffing.

I’ve only worn the denim & pink bow heels once (in the office, the day you gave them to me and I said, “of course I’ll wear these all the time!”). Would you like to give them back to your friend so she can sell them?

I’m going to chuck the rest of my heels into the box for the next swap. I’d try to sell them, but wait, they’re already too damaged.

L: Someone might want them at the swap, so toss them in there!  I totally understand btw – making life easier for yourself is wonderful.  It’s one of the reasons I like rummaging through closets.  Less stuff = less decision making = only keep what really works.  Etc, etc.

http://helloimnadia.com/post/61605892456/why-i-wore-the-same-outfit-every-day-for-a-year

V: I really really really really liked that blog post.

My lingering questions are:

1. Is she a not-smelly person?
2. Is she a not-spilly person?  

Because I am a smelly person and a spilly person. I would love to pare my wardrobe down to 7 outfits, but not one. I like being able to do a full load of laundry at a time. It feels inefficient (water, energy, time) to do half loads.

I probably have about 30 outfits, and I only like 2 of them. Maybe it’s time to figure out 5 more that I actually like and get rid of the remaining 23-28.  And you know what a lot of those outfits would have? Properly fitting cardigans!!!!

That would be awesome, to have 7 outfits I like, and get rid of all the rest of the stuff in my closet that I feel like I should like but don’t actually feel comfortable in.

L: That’s why I think that method doesn’t work.  One of my favorite items which I could easily wear 3-4 days a week is a plum colored dress.  Great fabric, good length, just right for transitional use (work/play).  But I bought it at a thrift store.  It’s from a known brand, so I looked online to see if I could get more.  They don’t have them.  Damn the fast fashion craze!  

And yes, you really do have to wear it a while to see how the fit works, if the fabric scratches, etc.  It does make you a lot more stringent in the dressing room.  If it isn’t perfect – no go.  I’ve stopped buying online because I’m so often disappointed.

I’ve discovered how jealous I am of B.  He can wear jeans to work so he literally has three pair of pants.  Envy.

 

 

More Minimalism

I've been reading more minimalist blogs, and particularly enjoyed this post:

http://www.theminimalists.com/walk-away/

 

Inevitability

Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude.  –Anne Frank

 

I have been thinking about death a bit lately.  That’s not unusual.  I work as an archaeologist.  The dead have a lot to do with how I pay my bills.  The remnants of the dead I typically encounter are garbage dumps of some sort or another.  So when I think about minimalism, being environmentally conscious and all the assorted pieces of my carbon footprint – well, it’s all tied together. 

When the mantra is quality over quantity, it does make you consider time as an element in that.  This essay struck me as being remarkably clear-eyed on the topic:

 

http://www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2014/09/why-i-hope-to-die-at-75/379329/

 

Recently, the parents of two friends have died.  A.’s father died quickly of a heart attack.  R.’s mother spent the last year of her life hospitalized.  In one case, there has been a complete lack of public announcement.  I’m left a little befuddled by this.  On a practical level I can see the reasoning that newspapers are rarely read, obituary space must be purchased, etc.  But there were no mentions through other media either.  The death wasn’t mentioned for five months.

 

I want to respect the choice to mourn privately.  But privately isn’t the same as denying others their grief.  Our parents have lives beyond us.  Before us, during us, after us.  I can’t even count the people I have met in my life, or what impact I have had on theirs.  As an insightful Facebook poster said, “Someone’s therapist knows everything about you.”  The lack of a public announcement seems to suggest a indifference for community.  And yes, we are a notoriously mobile generation and nation.  But A., his mother, and the family have lived in the same place for 30+ years.  B. lives several states from where his parents reside (his childhood home), but returns regularly.  Geography doesn’t negate loss.

 

I’m not putting this on A. by the way.  Their parents left behind a spouse.  He is not an only child.  There are extended family. 

 

So many of the people I know were either raised without the rituals of religion, or have fallen away from them.  That has left us without much guidance on grief.  (Not that religion always had a monopoly.  My background in anthropology could lead me to hours of writing on this.)  Without a secular option to turn to, we’re left with manners, which don’t tell us much.

 

We should not be pushing into the family’s grief, we should be respectful. 

 

But we can’t be respectful if we don’t know.  We think it’s distasteful to post a death notice on Facebook?  I keep getting a friend suggestion for a man who died last year.  I have people on my “Friends” list who are dead.  Facebook has developed a way to switch pages to “Memorialized”.  I’m not saying that’s the way to go.  But if a publicly traded company had to come up with a way to treat dead clients, it means there is a need.

The Ski Train and the Nose

Dear Alaska Railroad,

It was a beautiful day in Curry, as we moseyed off the ski train, taking a leisurely pace.  We figured with the low snowpack we’d skip out on the skiing and just enjoy ourselves with a little sledding.  It was a relaxed time, as you can see.

But then disaster struck.  On our last run of the day, Brian managed to smack his nose against the plastic edge of the sled.  Blood gushed.  Railroad employees swooped in.   First we were found by Conductor George and his stalwart co-Conductor (whose name we sadly never learned).   Then EMT Nick P. arrived and worked to staunch the blood.  At -6 degrees the components separated and coagulated at very different rates.  It looked like a blood slushee.  Ew. 

A decision was made to run us to Talkeetna in the hi-rail.  Paul valiantly drove us the 40 miles there, but to no avail.  They had a “real” emergency at the medical clinic and the staff couldn’t help us.  So he kindly drove us back to the depot in Talkeetna and talked the train into stopping for us so we could make it back to Anchorage.

Since I wasn’t the one with the broken nose, and I had always wanted to ride in a hi rail, this was quite the adventure for me.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hi-rail  Brain claims he wasn’t in pain, and now has a guaranteed memorable costume for next year’s ski train: Broken Nose Guy.

All told it was a fun and fascinating trip.  Many, many thanks to all of the railroad employees who helped us out, bagged the bloody sled, and got us home again.

Brian’s “Blue Steel” pose at the surgical center after his reduction.

Yes, he was still stoned out from anesthesia at this point.

PS.  Even though I am adamantly opposed to so-called “Reality Television” (and if you want to know why, that’s another blog post), we did sign the waivers for the crew of Railroad Alaska.  My understanding is that it mainly shows in Europe, so friends there should keep a lookout for us in the next season.  I think, despite the breathless “we’re all in danger” storytelling they do, Brian may have been their first actual bleeding person. 

The Mosquitos interviewing our driver Paul

Seattle Trip (II)

In later May, Brian and I took a week in Seattle to (hopefully) get the last of our Ikea needs met.  But the big draws were friends and family.  We stayed with the most amazingly awesome hosts – Chris and Kirk.  While trying to explain to Brian how we all knew each other, I had to admit that I met them by crashing a party at their house.  And then doing it twice more.  Thus great friendships are built.

Both (separately) Jenissa and Autumn trekked up from Oregon to spend a day with us.  That allowed us to play tourists and wander Pike Place, the waterfront, the Olympic Sculpture Garden, and have a three hour luncheon at Le Pichet.  Heaven.

We trekked (seriously, I’ve forgotten how heinous Seattle traffic can be) to the Eastside to visit the newest addition – Riley Flynn Clark Scattergood, who was born on April 8^th.  He is both named for me, and born on my ½ birthday, so there is no way I’ll let this little boy out of my life.  While both his parents call him a Screamapillar, he was remarkably quiet during our time together.  Definitely trying to lure me into a false sense of security.  Babies are sneaky.

Seattle Trip (I)

I snuck down to Seattle in early May to meet up with Hilary.  I was the only mutual weekend we had free for 4+ months.  Seriously, we are overscheduled people.  Then I screwed it up by trying to renew my Nexus card and discovering I couldn’t do the in-person interview in Seattle, but had to go to Blaine (I say this once more…map!).  But we took it as an opportunity to play along the beautiful coast of Washington.  We walked the Semiahmoo Spit, checked out Birch Bay State Park, drove down Chuckanut Drive, and visited Bow and Edison where foodie heaven is underway.  We had freshly made cheese, wine on the patio at Sloughfood, picked up noms at Breadfarm, and had blueberry ice cream at the Lopez Island Creamery.  We then went and took a hike/got lost in Washington Park, in Anacortes.  We watched a pod of dolphins cavort at Fidalgo Head until a Steller sea lion came and broke things up.