A busy, busy July

I had intended to update this blog more frequently, but as usually happens, we got super busy this month.  July in Alaska is mad scramble to make money, absorb sunshine, garden, fish and generally spend some time outdoors to offset the 8 months of dark, cold winter and 3 months of not so dark but still very cold winter. 



Kelley in her playpen 



Fish Camp



 July started out with my 2 year wedding anniversary, Kelley's 6 month birthday and my 31st birthday.  We didn't do too much celebrating as our focus was solely on leaving the real world and spending some time at our "fish camp," where my husband's family has commercial salmon fished for over 50 years!  Our fish camp is only accesible by airplane or boat (or snowmachine during the winter) and is blissfully set in the middle of absolutely nowhere.  The only other humans around are miles away in the tiny village of Tyonek or in the small bush planes traveling overhead.



Boats on the dock



My husband took the boat across the Cook Inlet, loaded with ice in anticipation of our first fishing day, or "opener."  In the past, the dogs and I had always traveled across on the boat with an occasional trip in the plane if weather deemed a boat crossing too dangerous, but because of Kelley, we were treated to a plane ride with gorgeous views.  The dogs were patient and used to the drone of the airplane taxiing.  Kelley, on the otherhand was quite surprised as the plane sped forward, whining loudly and suddenly left the ground.  I had to laugh at the shocked expression on her face... a mix of awe and "what the hell is going on!".

We arrived at fish camp and immediately began to clean.  Our camp is located on the mud flats, which means that everything is covered in silty dirt, caked deeply from the intense wind that sweeps across the flat, open shoreline.  I strapped Kelley on my back, as nothing was fit for a baby to sit on or in, and started scrubbing; floors, counters, tables, window sills and TV (we are spoiled).  The little one just relaxed on my back while I went from chore to chore.  It is so nice to be able to focus on a job (or 50) and know that Kelley is learning, listening and generally having fun while I labor. 

One of the old fish camp cabins



Family Photo 



Bear Poo!



Once all of the chores were finished, I decided to go for a walk to enjoy the awesome scenery that I had missed so much since last season.  I popped Kelley into the ring sling, grabbed my fanny pack with an extra diaper and water bottle and set off with the dogs romping insanely through the goose grass.  We walked for miles, coming across tons of different birds, some moose tracks and even a big pile of fresh bear poop.  It was time to turn around.  I didn't feel like meeting up with the bruin, who was most likely breaking in to one of the nearby duck hunting shacks. 

We stayed for two weeks, going on daily walks, once trekking a few miles out to where the guys were fishing, just off the beach.  The scenery never seems to be the same; some days the towering volcanoes are grandiose and bright whereas other days the fields of wildflowers catch the eye.  It was a joy to introduce Kelley to this place, although the mosquitoes really got the best of her.  We had planned to stay for more than two weeks, but with a bug bitten baby I decided to head home a bit earlier than expected. 



Volcanoes in the distance



Kelley, in front of "Sleeping Lady"

 

Off on our next adventure...



Plane Ride Home

















Summit Lake in Hatcher's Pass

I looked up into the mountains and saw thick cloud cover sitting in the pass.  I was to meet my new friend, Mindy, and her baby boy, Jasper, up in that high pass for a babywearing outing in just a few hours.  It sure wasn't going to be a glorious day, but we decided to head up the mountain anyway.  If us Alaskans always waited for nice weather to do anything, we would be some very bored people!
As I drove up the windy road that leads to the pass, the clouds became thicker and darker.  I took in the beauty of the bubbling and churning creeks and the beautiful green slopes, dotted with large snow patches, as Kelley played with my keys in her carseat. 
Hatcher's Pass is a mecca for outdoor enthusiasts, and is typically filled with people hiking, berry picking, sightseeing, snowmaching, skiing, snowshoeing and skijoring, but on this yucky day there were few people around.  As we reached the end of the pavement and turned left onto the bumpy dirty road that leads over the mountain by way of a high pass, I looked back down upon Palmer and the Cook Inlet, feeling a touch of vertigo at our extreme elevation.  I switched to four wheel drive and entered the thick clouds, which closed in around me like a fluffy, down comforter.  I couldn't see more than 30 feet ahead of me, but pressed on, hoping that some of these clouds would be burned off as we reached closer to the sun.  I traveled slowly, trying to avoid the shear dropoffs, unprotected by any type of barrier. 
My heart fluttered a bit as we traveled higher and higher into the sky, weaving and trying to avoid not only the bumps and pits in the road, but also the numerous ground squirrels and marmots dashing across the driving surface.  We finally reached Summit Lake, a spectacular little body of water whose depth has never been discovered.  The clear water looked ice cold and was still dotted with patches of ice.  It was still early spring at this elevation and large snow patches still grasped the snowy slopes.  The clouds were still thick and low, but the weather brought welcome quiet to this normally busy mountain top.

Summit Lake as the cloud cover lifted

I released the dogs and Mindy and I both strapped our babies in, Kelley in her ring sling and Jasper in his stretchy wrap.  We started off, wandering here and there over the alpine tundra, sometimes following little trails, but often veering off onto the caribou grass to investigate beautiful little flowers and hidden water falls.  I picked numerous different flowers for Kelley to hold and investigate and she would often do a taste test.  I though about how I wouldn't be able to adventure here with a stroller and reveled in snuggling with my girl in this damp, cold weather.
Mindy and I shared stories and our experiences as new moms as we made our way over to a large snow patch on the far side of the lake.  I let Kelley taste the snow as I daydreamed about the winter.  Chuck and Crosby tore up and down the mountain, taking time to cool off in the lake.  I heard a boy holler and realized we were no longer alone.  A group of kids had joined us and were hiking up the mountain and sliding down the snow.  I laughed and longed to join them, but sledding with Kelley would have to wait until next year.
We headed back to the vehicles and sat on a rock to take some time to feed our little adventurers, absorbing the amazing scenery as the clouds began to burn off. 



Looking down toward Willow.  You can see the road to the right.

 By the time the little ones' were full, the clouds had lifted enough to allow for a beautiful view of the valley below.   After walking back up the hill for a few photos, we decided that it was time to depart.  We loaded up and descended the mountain slowly, but surely, back into the real world.




Hiking the Butte

It was a glorious day in the Valley, with just the right amount of clouds and sun to make for a pleasant hike.  I decided to tackle the Butte, a formidable hill, even by Alaskan standards.  Being an avid hiker, I decided not to take on the easy trail, but what can only now be described as a silty slope of death.  It was quite the adventure for all of us (us, being me, Kelley and my trusty companions, Chuck and Crosby).
I found a space to park in the little lot at the base of the hill and got all geared up with my fanny pack, water bottles, camera and an extra diaper.  I leashed up the dogs, put Kelley into her silk ring sling and we were off. 
The trail immediately became steep and dusty, the silty dirt billowing behind the dogs.  I am an avid hiker, but immediately I wondered what I was thinking carrying a baby up this mountain.  I met up with a group of hikers and they informed me that this was the worst of it.  I continued trudging uphill, under a cool canopy of shady trees, stopping frequently to take a breath and a sip of water.  I released the dogs from their tethers and they went tearing up the hill, running here and there, sniffing and peeing, as boy dogs will do.

The trail soon opened and became a grassy hillside, narrow foot trails crisscrossing, some following easier grades and some aiming directly for vertical escarpments.  Kelley was comfy in her sling, although not pleased with having to wear a sun hat, and I was feeling confident that I could make it up the hill with her on my hip.  I was successful in choosing the gradual grade, carefully zig zagging back and forth as the hillside dropped away to my right, but soon found that I had led myself right to what appeared to be a silty, rocky cliff, about 100 feet from bottom to top.  I sure didn't feel like backtracking and it appeared that there were numerous foot trails leading up the face, so I decided to tackle the challenge.
I tucked Kelley's arms into the sling and cinched it tight to make sure I had my hands free, if need be.  I quickly found that I would only acheive the summit if I crawled up the face, hands finding adequate grips and feet searching for solid footing.  Thankfully, Kelley was agreeable to watching me struggle upwards and didn't flail about or fuss, allowing me to make the top relatively quickly and without incident.  All the while, my pooches were showing off, scaling the cliff easily and standing atop the ledge looking down at me with expressions that screamed "What's taking you so long?".

As I summited, I realized that I still had a ways to go to reach the top of the Butte.  I continued on, sure that I had tackled the worst, and took some time to relax as the trail I chose wove through some shady trees.  We examined the beautiful wild roses that were blooming by the thousands and Kelley took a handful of grass and began happily munching on the roughage.  The remainder of the ascent was relatively easy and I was able to quickly reach the peak. 
What a gorgeous view!  360 degrees of Alaskan finery, the Talkeetna Mountains to the West, Knik glacier to the north, Cook Inlet to the south and vibrant green Palmer farmland and broad shouldered Pioneer Peek to the east.  I could have spent hours, even days, examining the beauty I was beholding.  This was the first true summit that I had achieved since Kelley had been born and I reveled in the glory of being the only hiker to have carried a baby to the peak on this fine day. 

Kelley, too, enjoyed the view.  All the while she sat transfixed in her sling, absorbing the colors of the world below and the sky above.  I meditated for a moment on the idea that this was another first for her.  Our days are filled with firsts at this point in Kelley's life, but this one was special.  It was her first time on a mountain top; her first time looking down upon the glory of the Mat Su Valley. 
I snapped some photos and was even lucky enough to have a fellow hiker take some group pictures of the four of us, all panting from heat and fatigue, except for Kelley, who was comfy and cool in her perch. 

 All too soon, it was time for us to descend, back to the world of hustle and bustle.  I was successful in finding a relatively easy way down, following the switchbacks and every so often backtracking to find an easier route, until I once again met my nemesis; the cliff.  I peered over the edge and considered finding another way down, but I couldn't figure out any other way to descend without hiking miles out of my way. 

Once again, I made sure that Kelley was secure, tucked completely into her sling and cinched tight, and lowered myself over the ledge.  I slowly descended on my rear end, scootching slowly downhill, and finding as many sturdy footholds as I could.  With not a slip, I made it to the bottom of the escarpment and took a deep breath of relief.  We all took a short breather in the cool of a shade tree and continued back downhill toward the parking lot.  I always forget how difficult it is to go downhill; definately much more strenuous for the legs and I was utterly exhausted, but totally fufilled, when I reached the truck in one piece.
I packed up the dogs and the baby and pulled out onto the Old Glenn Highway.  I reflected upon the hike as the dogs and the baby slept in the back seat.  Another successful babywearing adventure!

Welcome!

I decided to start this blog to share my babywearing adventures in Alaska. 
My husband and I are very active people and when we found out that we were pregnant, we had many concerns about how it would affect our on the go lifestyle.  Would we still be able to go snowmaching and fishing?  Would our dogs suffer from lack of attention and exercise?  Would I have time to garden and landscape our home?  Would we become "normal" people?

The answer came in the form of a long piece of fabric.  I had seen the Moby wraps and had heard wonderful things about them so I decided to make my own!  It was very easy and that simple piece of fabric allowed me to get out mere days after having a c-section in early January of 2011.  I firmly believe that my recovery was greatly accelerated due to my exercising and that Kelley was a more calm and serene baby because I held her close.  I can thank my wrap for the ability to carry my newborn safely and comfortably, even in near zero temps and with a healing incision.

I continued to use my "stretchy" wrap on numerous adventures, and was even able to snowmachine with my baby girl at only 2 months old!  I became addicted to having my Kelley close and, as a result, I delved into the online babywearing world and even started a local babywearing group.  I wanted to share the world of babywearing with every new mom that I saw! 

I continued to make my own wraps and ring slings, testing designs and materials to find the toughest, most stylish and most comfortable baby carriers for everyday and all day use.  I am now designing and making ring slings and wraps for sale, through my business, AK Adventure Baby. 

My fears of a normal lifestyle were unfounded and I am ecstatic to say that our family has not slowed down at all.  We continue to adventure and explore on a daily basis and I must say that I've been able to do everything that I did before I had a baby.

I will continue to update this blog with all of my babywearing adventures and hope that I can inspire you to get out and stay active with your child!