Douglas Island Camp Out and Hike (summary soon to come)

Juneau's Rainforests

It is a well-known but frequently overlooked fact that Juneau is in a temperate rain forest. If you type “Juneau” into Google images, most of the photos portray Juneau as a beautiful coastal town nestled amongst jagged peaks under brilliant blue skies with ships floating placidly on calm, clear water. While the days depicted in the photos are phenomenal and worthy calendar pictures, they do not accurately represent Juneau’s climate. The lush forests don’t just sprout out of rock and sand. Rather they are fed by the 9.51 inches of rain between July and August. For Durango, July and August are part of the rainy season, during which we receive 2.9 inches of rain. A slight difference. Although the rain is more than I’m used to, it hasn’t slowed down my love of hiking and exploring. Granted I can’t see much past my own feet when I reach the top of a mountain, there is something to be said for the calm and comforting feel of low-hanging clouds cloaking the forests in a gentle mist. And, I can vouch that Arc-teryx and Grundens make fantastic rain gear. The pictures above are from one of my most recent hikes up Mount Roberts.
Yesterday, I met up with the Colliers (Maude, Mary, JB, Dave, and Sydney) in downtown Juneau for a bite to eat. The Colliers all lived on Salsbury in Birmingham near my grandparents at one time or another. They were touring Alaska aboard the Ryndam cruise ship. Upon arrival, Maude, Mary, JB, and Sydney took the Best of Juneau excursion, which included a trip to the Mendenhall Glacier, a salmon bake, and whale watching, during which they witnessed a playful baby Humpback whale and a pod of orcas eating a seal. Dave opted for a dog sledding tour but was weathered down when the clouds didn’t cooperate. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to meet up them and look forward to keeping in touch in the future!

Mountain Sledding and Ramez

Like many tourism companies, we are feeling the effects of America’s newfound frugality as tourists opt for cheaper excursions rather than spending thousands on a couple hours of dogsledding with the family. In fact, for the past couple of weeks, it seems as if both the economy and the weather have teamed up. On days of bluebird skies, balmy temperatures, and magnificent views, very few, if any, tourists sign up for a dog sled ride. When we are finally booked full, the weather decides to engulf us in a cloud and prevent the helicopters from reaching our remote dog camp. The good news is that this leaves me with ample time to partake in one of my favorite activities: reading. Over the past month, I’ve had the opportunity to blaze through multiple books including Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende, The Runaway Jury by John Grisham, Fire by Sebastian Junger, The Voice of My Heart by Gilbert Tuhabonye, Addicted to Danger by Jim Wickwire and Dorothy Bullit, and Alaska’s Wolf Man by Jim Rearden just to name a few. Of course after awhile, I just don’t idle well. Days of minimal activity finally led Seth, another musher, and I to venture to the top of one of the surrounding ridges for a little sledding.
The rest of the day’s tours had just been cancelled. Seth, Matt, and I were moseying about and tinkering in the dog yard in an effort to pass the time. I proposed that we take one of the sleds up the one avalanche-free slope for a bit of sledding. Next thing I know, Matt has the sled hooked up to the snowmachine (I would call it a snowmobile like the rest of the country, but Alaskans are quick to ostracize a person for being “unalaskan”, which includes calling a snowmachine a snowmobile), and we’re racing up the mountainside. Due to the steepness of the slope and the gutlessness of the snowmachine, we make it barely a quarter of the way up before the snowmachine starts to slide back down. We unhook the sled, and with Seth sitting and me driving, we cruise back down to dog camp. Thrilling, yes, but not as satisfying as I’d hoped. We had to go farther. Matt again tugged us up as far as he could with us running next to the sled, trying to assist the snowmachine. When we unhooked the sled, Seth and I began pushing and pulling the sled farther up. I must admit, I wasn’t intending on going all the way to the top, but once we surpassed the cloud ceiling, we really had no idea how far we had gone. We just kept trudging up the slope, resting every 20 feet or so. At the time, I was reading a mountaineering novel about K2, Everest, and other challenging peaks called Addicted to Danger, so as we slowly lugged the sled up, I was imagining the expeditions of the crazy climbers of the Himalayas. I have a new appreciation for their stamina and toughness. Finally, in a cloud, we reach the top. Careful not to step out on cornices, we briefly looked over the other side (just more cloud), and then prepared the sled for our return. With me videoing from the seat and Seth driving, we hurled down the slope, slicing through the clouds and arrived back at dog camp. For our long and arduous climb, we were rewarded with a very thrilling, minute and half long ride. It was definitely worth it. The video to the right filmed the entire trip, although it is mostly just voices and a white abyss. Our sledding venture is a highlight. One of the pictures shows the slope we came down, but does little to show the size.
The next day, the weather and tourism finally cooperated, and an Egyptian film crew arrived to film an episode for the popular reality TV show, Ramez Around the World, which will be aired in Egypt during Ramadan. It was my big break into show biz. I showed Ramez around the camp (quickly tidying up my tent as the camera crew came barging in), introduced him to the dogs, took him dog sledding, and then had a mock race against him (of which I won). The entire time, he would translate all I’d say and explain it to his fans in Egypt. I’m sure I looked pretty ridiculous as I stood awkwardly next to him with a microphone stuffed in my sports bra (my third boob as it was called) and wearing week-old dog clothes. We’ll just say I looked authentic. Overall it was an incredibly fun experience and a good change of pace. I loved working with the crew, and Ramez was quite a character. The pictures are of Ramez and I and the camera crew.

A Couple Memorable Moments

Happy July! Glacier life is in full swing, complete with typical Juneau summer weather: rain. We’ve had a fair number of weathered or raining days up at the glacier, but that doesn’t seem to dampen the spirits of the tourists. Kids dressed in jeans and sweatshirts still make snow angels and adults still tote their thousand dollar cameras and photograph every nook and cranny of the glacier.

A few days ago, I gave a ride to one of the most cheerful and uplifting couples I’ve met. The two were from India on a month long adventure in the United States. At the risk of over-generalizing, I must say that most Indian groups that visit the glacier are reserved, terrified of the dogs, and somewhat demanding. However, this couple was incredibly friendly, loved the dogs, and easy to entertain. The husband was a social worker for an organization established by Mother Theresa. Every second of the tour, he was thanking God for such a beautiful day, beautiful dogs, and beautiful company. At the end of the tour, he insisted that I come visit them in India and left me with all their information. Even if it was ten years down the road, he told me to contact them for a home to stay. Just remind him that I was the musher from their dog sled trip in Alaska, and he would remember every moment of it. Their happiness was contagious.

My helicopter flight down from the glacier this past time was one of the most incredible yet. Jag, one of the main pilots, took the usual route down the glacier to Juneau, but instead of flying hundreds of feet above in a more or less straight shot, he followed close to the cliffs and dropped down close to the ground. Along the center of the glacier is a line of rocks called a medial moraine. From the air, the rocks look no larger than a dog. But as Jag showed us first hand, the rocks are in fact enormous boulders sometimes as large as a bus. He quickly dropped from the sky to just 25 feet above the ice explaining the geologic processes while we hurtled at 120 miles per hour just above the surface of the glacier. When the glacier dropped off into the trees, he looked over his shoulder and said, "I'm really not supposed to do this, but let's turn back and take a look at the front of the glacier." He grinned, then banked the helicopter into a tight turn so that the average passenger (like myself) felt the gripping weight of g forces pulling at their bodies. We made a small circle and flew right next to the vibrant blue, jagged surface of the bottom of the glacier. The dramatic view will forever be etched in my mind.

On my days off, I’ve found a rambunctious soccer crowd at the Silverbow Restaurant with whom to enjoy the World Cup. Unfortunately, the United States is out, but I’ve still loved following it nonetheless!

Food Challenge

The past couple days, I’ve enjoyed two wonderfully relaxing days off, but before I recount the adventures, allow me first to touch on my days on the glacier. Recently, we’ve had enough slow days and weather days to make even a couch potato crave activity. Between the empty port in Juneau and the engulfing waves of fog on the Herbert glacier, we’ve had few tourists and lots of time on our hands. In a world of cell phones, television, and Internet, most people would find our remote glacial camp miserably boring. We have no reception, no computers, nor movies. Other than the little generator, we don’t even have electricity. But don’t worry; we’ve managed to find ways to entertain ourselves.
Other than my marathon reading sessions, I’ve been playing a lot of cards. Gin Rummy, Up and Down the River, and Cribbage are the favorites at dog camp, but recently, bragging rights are no longer enough. To make the games more interesting, we’ve raised the stakes by incorporating dish duty, water binges, and food challenges. Jake and I are the only ones dumb enough to play the food challenges, or rather, I’m the only one. For some unknown reason, I’ve been unable to win a single food challenge and have paid for it dearly by eating all sorts of barely edible concoctions. The first creation I was forced to eat was a pancake made of Skittles, teriyaki sauce, ranch, peanut M&Ms, peanut butter, canola oil, hot sauce, honey smoked ham, and burnt pancake batter. I have to admit, after two bites I called a cop-out. For the next food challenge, I decided to regulate the ingredients and ruled that the finished product had to be bearable. Of course, I lost the next food challenge card game and had to eat four deviled eggs meticulously made by Chef Jake. The first was a regular deviled egg. The second was filled with melted M&Ms, peanut butter, and chocolate. The third was a mixture of hot sauces and egg yolk. And the final deviled egg was filled with ranch and tang powder. As delectable as those may sound, it took awhile for my stomach to digest dinner. The next day brought a new food challenge, and I was determined not to lose. For this game, the winner (Jake) had to make a delicious dessert for the loser (me). Kudos to Jake, the dessert was delicious…and unique. He deep-fried a Snickers bar in pancake batter, placed it in a cored green apple, then drizzled chocolate peanut butter sauce over the top. Luckily, Seth was willing to help out and be the garbage disposal for all my leftovers. After this food challenge, I finally realized that I was mentally horrible at the food challenge card games. The following games resulted in regular, tasty dinners of Mexican pie and pizzas rather than unique concoctions that make your stomach turn. Because I am quite competitive, I like to think that the reason I’d play so poorly is that subconsciously I wanted to see what Chef Jake could cook up.
The past two days, I’ve been back in Juneau and enjoying my free time. Yesterday, I woke up late and spent more time than I feel comfortable admitting sitting in a café and watching soccer reruns. Today, Chrissy, her dogs (Bo and Lucy), and I ventured up Lemon Creek towards the Ptarmigan Glacier. Since the day was so beautiful, we were planning on a nice long hike. Unfortunately, Bo and Lucy happened upon the trail of a porcupine and cut our hike short. We pulled out as many of the quills on the trail as we could but had to return to the apartment for heavy-duty tweezers in order to remove the quills from the inside of their mouths and gums. We finished off the afternoon by enjoying a relaxing walk along the beach, porcupine free.

Does This Glacier Make My Butt Look Big?

It’s hard to believe that it’s almost the middle of June and the summer solstice! While Nick and the Durango crowd are packing up shorts and tank tops for the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, I woke up to fresh snow and sub-freezing temperatures on the glacier. Oh, the excitement of glacier life. While this might sound cold and miserable, I have to admit, I’m not completely roughing it. I have a small propane heater for my tent and most days the temperature soars to anywhere from 60-80 degrees. I’m told that later in the summer, a 90-degree day is not uncommon. This past month, I’ve been very fortunate and only experienced a couple of weather days. Most of the time I have to worry about covering up to prevent skin cancer rather than bundling up against the cold. On sunny days I worry that hourly sunscreen application might not be enough! Even the dogs are covered with zinc oxide and sunscreen. Of course, I’ll take a bluebird day over rain anytime.
As long as we are not socked in, the helicopters and tourists come, rain or shine. Most of the time, the tourists love it. And while the tours do get slightly monotonous, and I’m guilty of sounding like a recording near the end of the day, I’ve never met so many people from so many different places. We’ve had guests from all over the world including England, Australia, Malaysia, India, China, Spain, and New Zealand just to name a few. Recently, I gave a tour to a family from Puerto Rico who had never seen snow. I guessing it was an experience they’ll never forget. (Nor will they forget my attempt to give the tour in Spanish, which probably added to the entertainment value). Luckily, the family knew English as well, so they could correct me whenever I made a mistake. Other tourists don’t even speak English. During those tours, my main job is that of photographer. I must say it can be a nice break to not talk for a whole hour. One of my favorite tours involved a very friendly and very large woman. We stopped in the middle of the loop for the usual photo op when she hands me the camera and runs out into the middle of the snowfield. She bends over with her butt to the camera and yells, “Take the picture, it’s for my Christmas card.” When she returned to the sled, she informed me that beneath her picture instead of Merry Christmas or Season’s Greetings, she would put Does this glacier make my butt look big? Ha, priceless. Hopefully she’ll send me a copy of her Christmas card.

Juneau

Juneau in May is wonderful. Contrary to what I was told, Juneau has been remarkably pleasant with balmy temperatures, sunny skies, and gentle breezes: perfect weather for any activity, including flying. Unfortunately, the tourist season is just starting, so flights to the glacier have been either completely booked or nonexistent, thereby, postponing my arrival on the Herbert Glacier. And understandably, Coastal Helicopters won’t send an aircraft up just for me, no matter how nice the views and weather. This leaves me to explore the ins and outs of the unique town (city?) of Juneau.
Over the past five days, I’ve taken advantage of the lull in tourism to become better acquainted with the city blocks and hiking trails. Being of a scientific mindset, I’ll begin with some of my factual findings:
- Juneau is a town of 30,000 people with a large Filipino population.
- Not three miles out of town is North America’s fifth largest icefield, the Juneau Icefield. Its size is comparable to the size of South Carolina, and its annual snowfall exceeds 100 feet.
- Juneau is only 45 miles from end to end, but has 130 miles of hiking trails!
- Juneau is situated in a rainforest.
- The Governor’s Mansion sits atop a hill overlooking the city center. Sarah Palin and her family resided in Juneau for no more than three weeks then chose to return to Wasilla, much to the frustration of the Juneau residents I encountered.
On a more personal level, I’ve found Juneau to be an enjoyable, adventurous, and quirky city. Juneau has to be the only capital so relaxed that it lacks real airport security yet so fast paced that cars honk at pedestrians strolling across a crosswalk. Nowhere else are Extra-Tuff rain boots not only practical but fashionable as well (and I must say, I do prefer Extra-Tuffs to Uggs or high heels)! But probably my favorite aspect of Juneau is the intricate web of trails. Even with a whole summer, I doubt I’ll complete half of the trails within city limits. On my past three hikes my housemate, Crissy, and I have climbed cliffs overlooking the Mendenhall glacier, wove amongst towering trees and moss carpets, and walked on wooden planks across marshy meadows of skunk cabbage. With all the natural beauty, it’s no wonder the cruise ships choose Juneau to dock. Sadly, the same cruise ships that bring life and money to Juneau also tarnish its authenticity. The downtown is filled with jewelry stores and perfume shops catering to the cruise ships rather than locals. While waiting for the bus, I counted ten jewelry stores within just a few blocks! Apparently nothing says Alaska like a diamond necklace. Even with its faults, Juneau is truly a spectacular city with lots to offer. I’m excited to explore the city further, but first and foremost, I look forward to being reunited with the dogs and flying to the glacier! Hopefully the next update will be about glacier life and the wonderful dogs of Nature’s Kennel!