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.