Lingonberry Juice

A fresh taste of the Arctic.

While I was up in Alaska, I had the opportunity to meet some of the folks living out in Wiseman. Wiseman is located about 15 north of Coldfoot Camp.
While visiting I was offered a cup of homemade lingonberry juice. I had no idea what a lingonberry was but they were hand picked in the surrounding countryside, so I couldn't turn down such an opportunity! I said "Sure!"

Lingonberries are like cranberries except they are smaller and grow closer to the ground. They are the same pretty color though. They are common in boreal forests and the Arctic tundra. They are popular in many Scandinavian dishes and recipes.
Jack, the guy who we were visiting, said they also make a delicious bread. He hand picked and reduced the berries in water to make the juice all himself.

It was served in a coffee mug, with a spoon. It was very similar to cranberry juice, except with much less sugar than the commercial stuff. But the best part was the pile of berries at the bottom. For those I used the spoon. They were so tender and tart and yummy! 

What a neat opportunity hu?

Goals: Keys100

Click here for details!

I've gotten back into running, and am really enjoying it again. So far I am only doing treadmill running (since it's easier on my feet and shins) but eventually I hope to get back outside for some too.
Anyway, I have been thinking about doing a marathon for a couple years now on and off, and I was just cruising the internet and found something that looks like fun that I think I'd like to try for next year. Its called the Keys100 and there are several ways it can be done. You can do an individual 100 mile run, an individual 50 mile run, or a 6 person relay for the 100 miles.
It is being held on May 19th of this year, but that would only leave me with 7 weeks to work my way up to 50 miles, and I think you are supposed to take the week before the race off, so that would leave me with only 6 weeks. As much as I am tempted to try it, I don't think I'd make it. I still might try to see if I can get up to a fifty mile run by my birthday though. I think it would be a real accomplishment. (Last year I hiked Yosemite Falls and almost died of...whatever people die from when they are out of shape (muscle cramps, exhaustion, complaining), and I'd really like to do something healthy and challenging again.)
Anyway, after thinking about it more, I thought it would actually be more fun to see if I could scrounge up four or five other people who might be willing to train, and join me in NEXT years race as part of a relay team for the 100 mile run. That would give people plenty of time to get in shape and prepare. And it would be fun to spend a weekend in the Florida Keys! I personally would like to run about 30 miles myself, but all distances can be adjusted according to ability and whatever. I'd even be down to do it with 4 people, and we each take a quarter of the race. So if you know of anyone who might think this would be fun, and be interested in running 10-20 miles, and can commit to South Florida next May, let me know. If I can gather enough people together I'd really like to do this!!!

My "Littlest" Brother

 I made these months ago as a Christmas gift for my little brother, to commemorate and celebrate his unique and adventuresome decision to spend a portion of his life in the Arctic. (I had to wait to post them, otherwise I would have ruined the surprise!) All photos by me.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Mmmm...Airplane food. It was good except for the yellow stuff
under the chicken...that was supposed to be there right?

My trip to France has come and gone. In a way I feel like I was there forever, but then again, I am suddenly back in my "normal" life as though I never left. Time is strange like that.
I was going to write blogs during my trip (and maybe I should have?) but I wanted to wait because I wanted to post photos along with them that I took with my super awesome new camera I got for Christmas. So I decided to wait until I got home. So here is the first of several posts chronicling my trip.

Unlike the general philosophy that says "life is a journey, not a destination", when going on vacation that is not necessarily true. And in my specific case, for this specific trip that most certainly was not true. Even my  excitement about heading off to Europe instead of to the office couldn't erase the slightly ill feeling sloshing around in my stomach. I get motion sickness you see and it can really curb my enthusiasm about anything, especially when I have to take almost every form of transportation except rocket ship and bicycle to get to my destination.
My itinerary was as follows:
4.5 hour flight to Minneapolis
4 hour layover in Minneapolis
9 hour flight to Paris
3 moving walkways, 1 elevator ride with stinky European person
1 hour and a half bus ride through stop and go rush hour traffic in Paris holding my breath every time the driver hit the breaks to keep myself from barfing.
2 hour train ride facing the wrong way to my final destination
1 final 15 minute bus ride to top it all off.
Now I realize that I won't die from being train/plane/car sick, even though my skin turns a greenish white color, and I have to keep my mouth closed because I'm not sure what in addition to words might escape my lips at any moment. But it still feels like I'm going to die, especially when I'm tired and stressed out. And I know I get all weepy and annoying, but this time I feel fully justified in whining about it. It was one of the longest days of my life!
By the time I got to Aunt Pepette's house I was exhausted. When I sat down in a dining chair at her kitchen table and I felt like I was in a rocking chair facing the wrong way on a sailboat heading into rough seas. BUT I made it! Wheew! Journey over, destination here, and thank goodness too!

Gare de l'Est, Paris, France

SJC to MSP

Hello? Is anybody home?

Apparently really, really early on Thursday morning is a good time to fly out of San Jose International Airport. I got there and I was first in line at the ticket counter, the ONLY person (besides the TSA Agents) at the security checkpoint, and the sole inhabitant of the right side of terminal A.
My flight to Minneapolis was equally as pleasant, as there was no one next to me and I could spread out my stuff, and take pictures as we flew into the sunrise. Here are a few highlights:

Taking off from SJC

The San Francisco Bay Area

Sunrise over the Sierra

Early morning over Lake Tahoe

Sunrise over the Basin and Range

Winter morning, countryside Minnesota

Reflection of Sunrise on fields, Minnesota

(All photo's taken with my NEW camera I got for Xmas! Thanks again guys! I LOVE it!)

A Walk in the Woods

I just read A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson (he also wrote a Brief History of Everything), and it was awesome. It was pretty hilarious, especially the beginning and I appreciated his novice take on hiking and the wilderness in general.
The book is non-fiction and about his attempt to hike the entirety of the Appalachian Trail. His hiking companion is a recovering alcoholic/drug addict high school buddy he hadn't seen in years. Katz (as his friend is called) was the last person in the world you'd want to go hiking with, but that made for a funny story.
He goes expounds upon the many dangers associated with leaving the suburbs and heading off into the wilderness, and contemplates all the ways he could die, from bears to serial killers, to exposure. I totally reccommend this book to anyone who has a sense of humor, and enjoys the irony of humans trying to adapt back into the wild.

Fort in a Yurt!

Our yurt

Last weekend was my first experience staying in a yurt . Ha ha, I love that word...it's fun to say and funnier to type! I didn't even know what one was until about a year ago when my mom sent me a link to an ad on Craigslist sh found that was offering a yurt for $500 a month, as an alternative to apartment living. As an added incentive it was located within a "clothing optional" community in the mountains. (I have often wondered if anyone ever signed a lease on that place.) But I digress.

Cute, but SO HOT inside!

Anyway, the yurt I stayed in was within a "clothing required" campground about an hour outside Yosemite National Park. And I thought I write a quick blog about my yurt-ing experience just in case any of you should someday find yourselves in a position to possibly reserve one for a weekend, or lease one in a nudest colony for six months.

I thought a yurt was a cylindrical shaped cabin. But that isn't true. A yurt is more like a cylindrical tent. And by tent I mean that it has a wood frame, but only a canvas (or nylon) shell, as opposed to a cabin that has insulated (or not) solid wood walls. A yurt, therefore behaves like a tent. Scorching hot during the day, and pretty freezing at night. (So probably not a great investment for those folks who prefer to go about their business in the buff). The things that make it superior to a tent are 1.) You don't have to put it up. 2.) It's tall enough to stand in (or even put bunk beds like my yurt had) 3.) It has a door you don't have to zip. 4.) They usually come furnished with a real bed. 5.) They are less likely to blow down in a strong gust of wind. Besides that through, I don't see much advantage over tent camping. I probably wouldn't do it again, especially because they charge a lot to rent them, almost as much as a cheap hotel room in some places! And they don't have a bathroom. But as a once in a lifetime experience I would rate them as OK to good.
They are too hot to occupy during the day, so even though they look comfortable and homey you essentially have to be outside, and can't even enjoy it. And at night it's almost the opposite.

Our fort in a yurt!

I thought it was going to be warmer than it was so we were unprepared clothing wise. To solve our predicament of not having brought warm enough pj's we ended up (and this was totally my idea by the way) making a fort out of the bottom bunk with the blankets from the top bunk, and sleeping in there.It was like a little cave, and had to be at least ten degrees warmer than the area outside the fort, but still inside. It was a fort in a yurt! It turned out to be pretty fun, especially since I haven't built a fort in...oh at least a couple years:) And it was a pretty good one too. So I am glad to know I haven't lost my touch. But spending 70.00 a night and having to make my own shelter is a little steep for me.It was a fun adventure for my birthday weekend, but next year if I go hiking I'm staying in a hotel!

Yosemite Falls Trail

This past weekend marked my 32nd (gasp!) birthday. To "celebrate" I decided that unlike last year when I spent the weekend in Las Vegas sitting by a pool, I wanted to try something a little more technically challenging. So I set my sights on Yosemite National Park, and the most difficult hike you could do from Yosemite Valley (besides hiking Half Dome which now requires a permit). That hike is the one to Upper Yosemite Falls. It's a 7.3 mile hike round trip. The first half of the hike is a 3.25 mi 3,000 foot elevation gain up to the top of the falls, and so while the route is not as direct, essentially it is equivalent to scaling one of those sheer valley walls that Yosemite is so famous for. Since it is impossible to go straight up, the trail is comprised of a million (probably closer to thirty or forty in real life) switchbacks, that just keep going and going. It's taxing on the body and on the mind, especially when you feel like you should be getting close to the top and then you look up and see people on the trail who are so far above you they look like ants, and realize you aren't even close. It was somewhere in the middle of those torturous zig-zags, when my right butt muscle was seizing up, my nose was running, and I had sweat dripping in my eyes that my BF wished me "happy birthday" for the tenth time. I just started laughing.
But I made it to the top. I decided I was going to get there, or die trying. It's one of those weird challenges you place upon yourself when you get older, to confirm that you aren't really that old I guess. It took me longer than it should have, and my BF had to wait for me to take a break every few switchbacks (which I appreciated!), so maybe I wasn't totally successful in not feeling aged, but the bottom line is I made it, and I didn't die. And sometimes that's all you can ask for.
The best part of the hike is half way up when you've already conquered the first grueling set of switchbacks, and are hot and exhausted, and you turn the corner and get blasted with a brisk wind, and a roar that sounds like a mix between ocean waves during a storm, semi-trucks rummbling on the freeway and thunder. They you get sprayed with a fine mist of water that is so welcoming it makes you want to cry with joy, and then the falls come into view (for the first time on the whole hike I might add!). At that point you are at the base of the upper falls, or at the top of the lower one depending on how you want to look at it. It's just incredible, so beautiful and powerful.
Then the rest of the hike to the top is switchback after miserable switchback. When we got to the top, we took a break on a granite boulder and watched the water rush down the final feet of the upper river bed. To get a view of the water actually falling over the cliff is difficult, since the opening is shaped like a V and so you have to almost be down in it to get a view. There was one "lookout" area where there was about 8" of rock, a metal bar, then a 3,000' drop, but I got vertigo just looking at it, so I opted to climb out as far as I could (before my knees began to buckle and my head spin) on a solid looking boulder farther back, reach by arm out as far as I could, and snap a picture. Then we booked it out of there.
The hike down was a breeze for me, and I actually really enjoyed it. I wasn't as hot and tired, so I was able to take in the view a little more, and felt a little more inspired by the outdoors at that point. I even wondered why I don't do more hiking!
It took a total of 7 hours, (one hour was walking to and from where we had to park to the trail head) but we finally made it down to the truck. We took off our shoes, cracked a victory beer and looked up at the falls and basked in the accomplishment. Even after we'd done it, it still looked impossible to hike all the way up there. It was hard to believe we'd actually done it.
Anyway, here is my very brief summary of the Upper Yosemite Falls Trail:
Q.Would I do the hike again?
A.Probably not.
Q.Was it worth it?
A.Totally.
Q.Was it a great birthday?
A.Absolutely.
(Video is the view half way up at the bottom of the upper falls.)

Bee's and Things

As the summer has finally made it's debut, so have the insects. I noticed bee's hovering ominously over my patio two weeks ago, and haven't swept since then. My plants are paying the largest price since I've been too afraid to go out an water them. I contacted the property management company, and after a considerable rigamorole (How go you spell that??? rigor marol...rigger ma- never mind? ) The pest guy finally showed up, just moments ago. I showed him the spot which hardly needed pointing out since it was the only place on the patio that heinously creepy insects were flying in and out of.
He immediately informed me they were not bees but yellow jackets. How he was able to discern that from a distance I guess I'll never know. It probably has something to do with the fact that he's been exterminating for more than twenty years. He informed me that honey bee's aren't so bad. They go about their business and don't get in the way, or sting, as long as their hive is left alone.
I lost him at the word "hive" which made me shudder and wish eternal damnation on anything black and yellow with wings.
But anyway, my particular infestation is not of the charming and non-hostile honey bee sort. They are yellow jackets, and according to him, are of an entirely different breed. They are the the criminals of the stinging insect world, posing as innocent pollen munching bee's, but in reality they are an aggressive, confrontational variety of wasps. Eeesh! Freaks me out even to type that.
The pest guy needs to wait until it got dark to...spray them, or slice them to pieces with a samurai sword or how ever it is that exterminators get rid of unwanted creatures. (I prefer the latter, but will settle for anything that makes them go away.) So hopefully I will have my patio back by tomorrow!

IRT Supa-Star!

The bearded gentleman in blue is my bro:) 

He has mad acting skills. See how he works the camera?

So the BF and I were watching Ice Road Truckers the other night when we saw a familiar face pop up on the screen. It's my littlest brother and he was on TV! Isn't that so rad?!? I just hope all this fame doesn't go to his beard...er, I mean head.

Coldfoot Alaska: The Aurora Borealis

Aurora over Coldfoot Camp (Painting by me)

Besides the sled dogs (and getting to see my little brother of course) the best thing about Coldfoot in the winter/early spring are the Aurora. I have to admit that when I was planning my trip viewing the Aurora was not on the top of my list. I'd seen them as a kid in northern Wisconsin and even once when I lived in Michigan.
I begrudgingly waited until three in the morning to see them for the first time in AK (and they did come out), and after that I was so impressed that every night after that I stayed up till 3 or 4 in hopes they'd put on a show for us.
First of all, the aurora I saw in the Midwest were nothing at all compared to the ones in Alaska. From the latitude of Michigan the Aurora take up only a sliver of the sky, to the north just at the horizon. And while I remember the green tint of the light...it looked like it could have come from the ground up, like light pollution from a city. It was neat to see, but not very impressive. But the Aurora in Alaska...WOW! To put it simply there is just no comparison.
It's partly the staying up all night in anticipation that makes it exciting. Our first night we tried to see them we hung out in our hotel room and checked every 45 minutes or so from 11:00 to about 1:30. Then our expert Aurora watcher (aka my little bro) thought he saw the beginnings of some action. We bundled up as best we could and headed out back of our hotel. It was FREEZING! We didn't know at the time but Jay was right, and the Aurora were starting. It's really hard to tell them at first because they look like wispy clouds, and are so dispersed (or faint) that they look more white than green. If you've ever seen the milky way (sort of a faint white band that stretches across the sky) that's what it looked like. Needless to say standing out in the frigid cold (and it was really windy that night) to look at barely there Aurora was not my idea of a good time. So we went in and headed to the front of the hotel, near the lobby where we thought we would close the lights, sit by the windows and watch to see if anything happened.(Then we would run outside.) Apparently some other people had the same idea. There were two women from Oklahoma City, a couple from Prescot AZ (parents of one of Jays co-workers), and a girl from Taiwan I think. We all sat in the dark and chatted while taking turns to get up and smush our faces to the window to see if we could see anything. I definitely recommend this strategy if you are planning on staying up all night to watch. It is just too cold to stay outside the whole time while you are waiting for them to start. And you want to be comfortable enough to enjoy them when they are in full force, and not be worrying about whether or not your toes are going to freeze and fall off.

Ribbon of Aurora (paintings by me)

 Around 3:30 one of the Oklahoma ladies came rushing in from outside shouting "Come quick! They're starting!" We all cut our conversation short and grabbed our hats, mittens, scarves, zipped up our coats, grabbed our cameras and dashed out the door after her. At first it was hard to see there were little spots that were definitely green, but you had to sort of look at it out of the corner of your eye to see it move. Eventually more spots formed, and they became shadowy curtains floating in the night sky. For some reason they reminded me of the robes that the ghosts wore on the Scooby-Doo cartoons. They got brighter and dimmer and sometimes you'd be scanning the sky in front of you when all the action was to your back, or above your head even. It was a full 360 degree experience, and we found ourselves turning in circles in hopes of catching every particle (or wave if you prefer) of light. Everyone was so excited, and shouting "Oh, look there!" "Oh wow! Look at that one!" I couldn't smile on account of my face being frozen, but I was smiling on the inside for sure. While it was really beautiful it was hard to ignore the fact that my legs felt like they were being pricked with needles (although I was happy I could still feel them) and the moisture in my nose was freezing to my nose hairs and pulling them whenever I took a deep breath. Had I been better dressed I am sure it would have made a big difference, but I live in California and have no need of snow pants and -50 degree rated coats. Anyway they were worth it. The aurora gave us a pretty good show rising up over Coldfoot Mountain and slowly flashing across the sky to the southeast. I tried to take pictures which was utterly hopeless, so I finally gave up and just enjoyed them. They faded out after about 40 minutes, so we all went back inside to warm up and we waited until about 3:30 or 4:00 before calling it a night.
 Two nights later Jay and I stayed up again keeping watch and around 1:30 or two the show began. It was apparent right away that this one was going to be much bigger. The green was brighter and deeper. It was as if someone had increased the contrast, and so the sky looked blacker and the lights shone more. It had been cloudy all that day, and we thought the chances of us seeing anything were slim to none, but then right around midnight the sky cleared. (So let that be a lesson to any of you who might make it up there to see them sometime, don't be fooled by a cloudy day!) And what a show! Just in the first ten minutes we were out there it put our whole previous viewing to shame! There was more movement, and more...shapes I guess you could say. At one point a there was a giant, elongated  "C" extending from Coldfoot Mountain hovering above us and continuing all the way to the south (see painting). When I looked straight up I could see the bottom of the curtain moving up and down like it was riding along top of invisible waves fifty miles up. I saw curtains and ribbons of alien green light all over the place and they all swayed silently in the invisible solar wind above my head. It was...magical. If I didn't know already how the Aurora formed, I would have been convinced of magic that night. It was (is) just that...awesome and weird. I was again cold, but the lights were so spectacular I forgot about it (well, that and I borrowed Jays coat:) It was just a beautiful experience. I'll never forget it.
In real life they look nothing like they do in photos. For one they move and form in a dome above you. You have to look sideways and up and around back over your shoulder to really see everything. And the other thing is that especially when they are right over you, you realize how big they are. In real life they look 100 miles long by 20 miles tall! They are just enormous! But I feel like in photographs they look about the size of your average cloud, and that is not at all the case. Jay and I stayed up (drinking lots of coffee and hot chocolate) and watched till the end.

Paintings switched around (paintings by me)

It is absolutely worth staying up all night, or three nights if necessary, to see. Even if you have seen them before at lower latitudes, there is no comparison to seeing them in the winter above the arctic circle. The cold, the utter darkness, the mountain air, the coffee freezing in your cup, the tingling in your fingers, the eerie dance of the Aurora....it's surreal, and almost feels supernatural. It almost felt like I was born to live just to experience that moment (but that could have been the bourbon talking:) It's probably the closest I would say I have come to feeling like the earth itself is alive.
Sometimes for no reason at all, it's like my brain takes a step back, and sees the bigger picture, and I am in awe of it. It's mind blowing to think that this place is my home! This is where I belong! Out of all the universe I was lucky enough to  be born here, on a planet where in the winter, in the far north, green lights dance across the sky in time to the cosmic tune.

Explanation of paintings:
First painting is of me, Jay and our Aunty Paulette watching the Aurora behind the hotel. I tried to take photo's but none of them came out, so I specifically tried to remember that moment so I could paint it when I got home. While it might not be an exact likeness of anything or anyone, I feel like it accurately depicts the scene as I remember it. The essence of the moment was captured.
The second and third are the same two paintings. The first is how I intended them to be set up and the second is just switched and looks cool, but somewhat inaccurate. The first setup is of my favorite view I actually saw in real life where the Aurora formed a giant ribbon in the shape of a C across the sky. On the left is Coldfoot Mountain and on the right is the other mountain to the east (don't know the name) so it's supposed to be a panorama kind of. The second switched set up looks cool, but isn't accurate in that I never saw the lights diverging from each other, and the mountains are no longer in their accurate positions or shapes.

Coldfoot Alaska: Coldfoot Camp

It's hard to get a feel for Coldfoot Camp by looking at their website. And if you Google it, mostly all you see are pictures of the sign that is out front of the Inn, or maybe the Inn itself, or the cafe. But that leaves a lot to the imagination, and after having been there, I realize that's a problem. It's a problem because you (and I) imagine there is more to it than that, but there really isn't. I wondered why everyone was taking pictures of that sign, and I now realize it's because there is very little else that is photo worthy!
There are a few buildings, but as a tourist there are only three that are accessible. The Truckers Cafe, the Post Office (which I didn't even go to) and the Slate Creek Inn. That is it.
The Truckers Cafe is the main meeting area. There is regular seating six tables in all, an alcove with a giant table reserved for truckers only, a "saloon" which is basically just an extension of the dining room, and a small corner stuffed with t-shirts and sweatshirts designated as the "gift shop".

Truckers Cafe

The main dining area is decorated in what I like to call "truck stop" style. It's not fancy, or cozy, or cute, but it has it's own haphazard mismatched charm. There were murals up high on the walls documenting some of the area attractions. Those included semi-trucks, mountains, and even a dog sledding team among other things. The walls bore newspaper articles and maps of the Dalton Highway, the history of the pipeline and other various informative, but aesthetically displeasing subjects. The Packers sign by the food window was the exception. That was AWESOME:) The tables and chairs look like they were stolen from a VFW hall, and the centerpieces on the tables were empty six pack cartons filled with ketchup and A-1 sauce. Despite this seemingly unflattering description, I really liked it. It was quaint and adventurous and I looked forward to eating there each day. The saloon had a nice bar, but when I say bar I mean actual wood counter space, not selection of alcohol or quantity. In terms of alcohol there was only beer (but a nice selection) and small individual bottles of red wine and white Zinfandel. Other than that there were four additional tables, and a nice deck area with tables overlooking the parking lot that would be nice in summer assuming they weren't burried in mosquitoes.

Saloon dining room

The gift shop had mostly t-shirts, sweatshirts and ball caps. There was a serious lack of (good) postcards, key chains, magnets and other small items that I normally love to by when on vacation. Oh well, I'll just have to make my own.
The post office was next door, but like I said I didn't go there, so I can't really say much about it. The third place was the Slate Creek Inn, where I stayed. It is located across from the Cafe separated by the road/semi parking lot that runs between them.

View from saloon across to Inn

The Inn looks a little nicer on the outside than it does on the inside, but again there was a certain amount of charm about it. It was a lot like a hostel now that I think about it. And it was exemplary in the art of using what's available and not throwing anything away. Don't have enough pictures to decorate? No worries, just hang a puzzle of a geisha and tiger on the wall and the problem is solved! Don't have a table to put the TV on? Don't panic, there is a chair you can use instead! It was spotless and smelled clean and most critically it was warm (all the important stuff) but there was no stone fireplace with snow shoes mounted above the mantle is all I'm saying. It was comfortable, but not cozy.
Anyway there is a lobby, and a common sitting room with books and a TV and a couple of couches. I didn't spend a lot of time there, but I imagine if you were with a group that would be the place to hang out and talk or be all together. There were a couple of really beautiful (live) trees inside that surprised me too.
My room (or our room since I was staying with my Aunt) was small, but big enough to not feel cramped. There were two twin beds which to my relief were really comfy. And all the bedding looked and smelled clean, so I had no apprehension when crawling under the covers. There was one window, a sink, a small closet, a TV on a chair and a toilet/shower in a separate room. The toilet facilities were great. Totally normal and not a hole in the floor or anything like that. Bathrooms were super spotless, and the shower worked great. If the room had a theme I would say it was wood. Not "the woods" just wood. Fake wood paneling, mismatched wood cabinets, plywood walls. Decor wise it looked like you gave a trucker five dollars and sent him to a garage sale and told him to decorate a room, but what can you expect? The hotel is made out of the trailers used to house the workers that built the pipeline, and I am pretty sure they didn't hire an interior decorator. To be fair I think they did pretty good with what they had to work with. I of course could do better, but that's me. There isn't much insulation between rooms, and you can hear every person that walks down the hall, but it sort of added to the experience. What would be the fun of being in Coldfoot and staying in a room that looks like the Holiday Inn around the corner from your house? That would just be boring. Waking up to plywood walls, now that's exciting. Your first thought is "Did I get drunk and fall asleep at the Home Depot?" And then you remember, "I'm in Alaska, I am above the Arctic Circle! and it's way more awesome.
There are a few other buildings, but they are either maintenance related or housing for workers. There is the dog lot, where all the sled dogs are, and a runway for the plane, two gas pumps, and a visitors center (that was closed when I was there) but that's it.

My home away from home!

If you want to go shopping you are limited to the gift corner, or the glass case in the Cafe that includes (but is not limited to) motor oil, tampons and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. If you want to relax you are either at a table in the Cafe, in the lobby of the hotel or in your room.
That being said, I was there for three full days and wasn't bored in the least, or unhappy with any of my accommodations. As little as it seems there is, it is enough, for the person seeking an Alaskan adventure. I could get a hot chocolate at 11:30 at night in the Cafe while waiting for the Aurora to begin (or not). I could get a beer in the saloon after spending the better part of the afternoon hiking through the deep snow in search of wolf tracks. I could comfortably sleep in (the curtains were great at keeping the light out) after staying up half the night watching the Aurora. Coldfoot Camp may not be made of much, but at the same time it's more than I expected. Coffee, gas, and warm beds, what more could you ask for?

Coldfoot Alaska: Getting There

Big Daddys combines 2 of my favorite things: meat and Santa

I am back from my adventure to Alaska! Actually I've been back for a few days now, but between catching up on sleep and chores I haven't had a chance to write.
Anyway, since there is way too much to say about my trip to Coldfoot Alaska for one blog, I thought I'd break it down into sections and space it out over a couple days. This first installment is about  how one gets up to such a remote place.
So, getting there. First of all, where is there? Well, it's about 250 miles north of Fairbanks, but surprisingly that doesn't help many people out because most people don't know where Fairbanks is. So instead you could say it's around 600 miles north of Anchorage. It is technically in the foothills of the Brooks Range, but metaphorically it is located in the middle of nowhere. In fact, if you could look up the definition of "the middle of nowhere" it would probably have a picture of Coldfoot Camp with an arrow that says "here".
I flew from San Jose, to Seattle, to Anchorage, to Fairbanks. On top of it being a long day in general, it was especially so because all of the Alaska Airlines servers went down nationwide, and so everything at the airports was all messed up. In Seattle my original gate to Anchorage (which said Anchorage on the monitor behind the counter, and on the monitors along the concourses) was actually to Atlanta. I became suspicious that something might be wrong when a family of five planted themselves beside me wearing shorts, flip flops, 3 inch long fake nails, Juicy Couture sunglasses, Atlanta Falcons jerseys and toting 7 piece Louis Vutton luggage set. My new gate I was told was two concourses down. I raced there thinking I was going to miss my flight. I am a pretty good runner, but trying to run a half mile with a backpack and a small suitcase literally almost did me in. I arrived at the gate (that ironically said it was going to Honolulu) sweating and light headed and....found out that my flight was delayed! They didn't have any idea how long, but at least an hour and a half, maybe more. So I almost gave myself a coronary for nothing. It was such a mess! People were just all over the place, missing flights left and right, and even the flight attendants were lost. People were being directed this way and that and none of the monitors displayed accurate information!

Glacier and Mountains south of Anchorage

When I finally got underway it was cloudy and I wasn't able to see much out the window for most of my flight (which was disappointing because I specifically booked a window seat and love to look out and take pictures). Then just before Anchorage the clouds broke and I saw some spectacular snow covered mountains with glaciers and everything. I think I took a hundred pictures or so! It was incredible, miles and miles of pristine white mountains.
Anyway, I finally made it to Fairbanks about 6 hours later than scheduled. I had to stay overnight in Fairbanks because my ride to Coldfoot wasn't till the next day. My hotel the Regency Fairbanks was pretty nice, and they picked me up from the airport for free. It's not stylish or fung shui or anything, but clean and spacious. It looks like it might have been a premiere place to stay in 1989. When you walk in the front door the first thing you see is a mounted reindeer head on the wall and name tag that says"Blitzen" hung beneath it. I personally found it a little disturbing, but I guess when you take it in with the musk ox on the other wall and the giant fish above the door, it lends to a woodsy, Theodore Roosevelt hunting lodge kind of atmosphere, instead of a "torture Santa's reindeer" one that I initially had.
In the room the matching pink toilet and jacuzzi tub were very...retro. And my room had a full kitchen with stove and frig and everything. They had internet and a nice continental breakfast with waffles. Over all for 60.00 it was a great deal and I was really happy with it.

Ice on road, downtown Fairbanks

Jay met me at the hotel (my little brother is the whole reason I was there in the first place!) and we decided to walk to Big Daddy's BBQ for dinner. I was shocked at how the roads and the sidewalks were totally covered in ice! The roads were terrible but at least they had a little texture that might help, but the sidewalks were worse. The ice was more than 2" thick in some places, and there was hardly a clear spot anywhere. I almost landed on my butt more than once on the way to the restaurant, and it was worse in the dark after a couple beers. If I 'd been alone and taken a tumble, I might have hit my head and froze to death before morning! You need those ice climbing shoes just to make it safely to your car! Seriously. I've never seen anything like it anywhere else. I still can't decide if I think it is safer to walk or drive there. Probably neither.

Burnt ends of brisket YUM!

Big Daddy's was AWESOME! I would skip eating anything that wasn't meat if I ever made it up there again. Not that the sides were bad, but more that the meat was so good! I got one word for you: BRISKET. I got the brisket sandwich and we had an appetizer of the burnt ends of the brisket slathered in home made barbecue sauce. Doesn't that sound like the best tasting thing ever? Yummm-O! So meaty-licious! I also got to try the local microbrew called Silver Gulch. I had the IPA which was really good and went well with the protein heavy meal.

Typical view up the Dalton Highway

The next day I made my way up to Coldfoot the old fashioned way, in a pickup via The Dalton Highway. Now contrary to what it sounds like the Dalton is not a superhighway. It's mostly gravel (although paved in some sections) and in the winter covered in (what else?!?) a thick layer of slippery ice. It runs parallel to the famous Alaska Pipeline, and was actually built to allow access to the pipeline and oil fields on the North Slope. In all the time we were on the road we only saw two vehicles pass by that were not semi trucks. In our six hour drive up to Coldfoot there were no towns (although we did pass two Department of Transportation camps), neighborhoods, gas stations, fences, emergency telephones, telephone poles or anything else of man made origin except for the road itself, and the pipeline. There was a pull off where we crossed the Arctic Circle at 66 (degrees) 33' and a sign to mark it, but that was about it. You know it's remote when the only sign you can find says you are crossing the Arctic Circle! And the speed limit all the way up to Prudhoe Bay is 50 miles an hour. (I am pretty sure the truckers don't obey that, but I can't prove it). It really is an isolated road in the Alaskan wilderness. The mountains themselves weren't very high, or rugged looking but they just went on forever and ever dotted with spindly spruce trees trying to eek out a living in the permafrost.
The ground was still covered in snow and there were animal trails all over the place. We saw a spot were a caribou herd crossed the road and we were lucky enough to actually see a lynx cross the road ahead of us! Being able to see the tracks of the animals made the countryside seem very alive and full of wildlife even though we hardly saw any. We forget because we don't see them most of the time, that the empty spaces (even in our own yards) are criss-crossed by all kinds of animals when we are not looking. There was hardly a patch of snow for all 350 miles not covered in some sort of track or another, and for that reason I will probably always think of Alaska as having tons of animals everywhere.

Snow at crest of hill along the Dalton Highway

The drive was pleasant, but only because I was with a bunch of people, and knew we had supplies from the grocery (like coffee, wine, and ten huge bags of dog food) in the event that we were stranded. If I were on my own though it probably would have made me nervous and I would make sure to have extra gas, food, clothing, oil, tires, chains, and a CB radio before I attempted to head up that road. The truckers come by often enough that you would probably get discovered if you broke down, but who knows what could happen if the road got closed and you were stuck out there.
The ONLY food/gas/lodging sign I saw once we were on the Dalton was the one that is located about a mile south of Coldfoot. There is something comforting about that little knife and fork:) And then just around the bend we exited to Coldfoot Camp. I'd made it! I was finally there!

I guess most people fly into Coldfoot but I think you miss something by flying up there. It only takes an hour to fly, so it doesn't seem that far away. But when you crawl over the mountains, one at a time, at 50 miles an hour it seems like a million miles away from civilization. When you finally snuggle up in your bed at the Slate Creek Inn after the long day on the road you recall  each mile and hill between you and the nearest Taco Bell and it's a pretty neat feeling; you feel isolated but safe and sound. Going further back, thinking about home and all the miles and plane rides between there and Coldfoot, leaves you feeling utterly exhausted and ready for sleep. Everything else will have to wait for morning.

The Road I'm Travelling

In anticipation of my upcoming adventure to Alaska, specifically to Coldfoot Camp, I thought I'd post this video I found about the farthest north truck stop in the world. It was done as segment of the "Ice Truckers" show that's on The History Channel. As odd as it may sound this is my whole vacation destination and I seriously can't wait to get there! Middle of nowhere Alaska here I come!!!