I'm a cheechako

For a definition of that word, plus some other interesting Alaska vocabulary words, click here.

Lost Lake, take 1

The prospect of a three day weekend in Alaska excited us with all the possibilities. On the recommendation of a co-worker of mine, we chose to hike in to Lost Lake outside of Seward. It's about an 8 mile hike to the lake, with the prospect of exploring old mines and day hikes in the mountains once we set up camp by the lake. She showed us pictures of the lake and surrounding tundra in the fall, red and golden and beautiful. We made a trip to REI for supplies, buying all the camping supplies we've been talking about for awhile. At last we had the immediacy of a trip to spur us into action. We spent most of yesterday packing and talking over all the details that a backpacking trip entails. I was excited to be carrying on my back all the supplies we would need in the wilderness. This kind of self-sufficiency is refreshing, it makes me think of the world in simpler terms.
Due to all of our preparation, we finally hit the road at 3 pm on Saturday, arriving at the trailhead at 5. Thanks to the long evenings in Alaska during the summer, we still had 6-7 hours of daylight to hike and if we wanted to do the 8 miles to the lake, it would probably take that long. No other cars were parked at the trailhead, something that made us wonder if everyone else knew something we didn't. We ignored the comments on sign-in paper that said, "Snow after mile 4, snowshoes recommended, " and "Turn back now!" :) The hike began well, the trail winding through dry forest. We took a side trail to an overlook across from a gorgeous waterfall, swelled with the water from the spring melt. Soon after that we hit mud, then patchy snow, then solid snow. We eventually hiked for about 2 miles on a snowmachine trail, with the sound of gushing water beneath us under at least a foot of snow. The snow was mushy in spots and occasionally one foot would break through and get soaked by the stream below. After about six miles and 3 1/2 hours of hiking, we still hadn't made it above treeline, and there was no guarantee of dry ground to pitch a tent on. We decided to call it a day hike instead and turned around. We got back to our car around 11 and made it home by 1 am, so thankful for dry clothes and a cozy bed. On our way out we signed the trail registration paper, "Should be nice in September." We're still not used to how long the snow sticks around up here...

Porcupine Falls

Close-up of the falls



On the trail



Muddy boots

it's spring...in washington

Remember all the convictions I once had about eating food in season and grown locally? Well, then I moved to Alaska. And it's May and I want to be eating spring vegetables. And the snow just melted a few weeks ago, so the farmer's market last Saturday had overwintered carrots, turnips, and potatoes, and flats of seedlings to start in the ground. So I found my lust for spring vegetables had to be satisfied at Fred Meyer with this asparagus flown in from Washington (that's kinda local, right? I mean, it's the West Coast...). Still, I was impressed with its tenderness and how thin the stalks were--often asparagus is picked too late, when it's big and fat and bitter tasting. This picture was taken just before roasting the asparagus in the oven. The finished product eventually became a part of Asparagus Lemon Pasta, mostly a hit but with a glitch--how to make a sauce that has milk (which I substituted for the cream) and lemon juice in it without said sauce curdling? We pretended I had made the dish with ricotta cheese and it tasted fine.

domesticity

Living in Alaska, I could probably take pictures all day every day for the rest of my life of all the gorgeous scenery up here. But sometimes I have this strange desire to take pictures of random everyday things around our apartment and share them with you all. Maybe because for most of you, I can't just tell you to drop by and visit us anytime. (Of course the invitation always stands, if you can make the trip...) We are slowly making our apartment more home-like, though we are still searching for some major items (a couch being the most dire need right now). It's been fun and painful at the same time to start from scratch. Fun in that we can buy exactly what we want, and painful because it involves a long decision-making process and it's usually expensive. It makes us feel old to have real furniture that we picked out and bought as opposed to something worn and not-exactly-beautiful that was given to us! Through this furnishing process we are discovering we have definite likes and dislikes when it comes to interior decorating. A few things so far have been a definite success, so here they are:

What is this strange photo, you ask? Well, it's my version of a spice rack (with apologies to Ken and Carrie, who gave us this idea). Those little silver jars are magnets stuck to the side of our fridge, each one filled with something delicious. I love how easy it is to grab a spice, twist off the lid, grab a pinch of something, and put it back on the fridge. Now, the presentation would be nicer if we had a magnetic board hung on the wall, and the spices displayed there for all to see (the way the fridge is in our kitchen, you only see these if you are standing at the sink). Sadly our kitchen doesn't have the wall space for that, so we make do with this. The little jars are from Bed Bath and Beyond and the spices I buy in bulk in the organic section at Fred Meyer.

This lovely thing is sold as an assemble-it-yourself shoe bench at Fred Meyer (if you could see it up close you would see spots of wood glue), but my magazine-loving husband saw it and thought, "coffee table!" And it's perfect. We store our piles of magazines below and someday, when we have a couch, we will put snacks on top while we're watching a movie. The only problem: it would be nice to reserve one spot for each magazine, but we get more than 8 magazines, so we'll have to have some share with each other. I'm thinking of putting The Mennonite in the same spot as Gourmet (see title of this blog...groan). :)

This is my lovely coleus plant, given to me by my Aunt Betts. I just repotted it and I think I should have bought a larger pot....it takes up the whole thing! It's our only houseplant so far and it's doing so well. It just started popping out little purple flowers, which I think you can see in the next picture, even though it's bleached out by the flash:


It's so nice to have a green thing to share space with. We'll be buying more plants soon. Our apartment gets a lot of natural light, which I'm grateful for.

Ah, domesticity. Having a peaceful, beautiful, practical space to live in makes life happier, I think.

Barrow bound

I released this news in an email last week, but it bears repeating here. My boss told me last week that starting in August I will start traveling to Barrow, Alaska! I will travel there every 3 months or so to do home visits with children up there who receive services through Hope (the company I work for). The trips will be short, probably 2-3 days each, and I will travel along with a few other people from Hope.

As I have begun sharing my news with people, it's interesting to see the varying reactions to Barrow. Only a few people are excited for me, and for the opportunity I have to travel there. Many more are surprised and ask me, "have you ever been to Barrow?" in a tone that implies no one would ever want to go. And yes, it's cold there most of the year. And very dark. And flat. And no, I've never been. But still, I'm excited to see part of the world that I've never seen, the northernmost city in North America. The whaling season has started up there. So far it's been a good year, they have harvested 4 whales. Over half the population is Alaska native. Employment mostly comes from the oil fields on the North Slope. My first visit will be when it's still a little warm, right at the end of the summer when the sun finally sets for a few hours at night. I might be introduced to one of the local delicacies, muktuk, which I hope I will like. Wish me luck, friends, as I travel, and hopefully in a few months I will share news from Barrow with you!

We enjoyed a hike last weekend with some of my family up here at Hatcher's Pass in the mountains outside of Wasilla (about an hour's drive from Anchorage). The snow was deep in the pass, so we found ourselves "post-holing" often, walking along on the crust and suddenly one leg sinks into snow up to the hip. There's lots of snow still left in the mountains, but we were warmed by the exercise and good company. Here's some pictures for you to enjoy:

That small figure is my Aunt Betts, hiking along what will be a road when the snow finally melts.

Cousin Jess contemplates the incredible view from a ridge above the pass.