No Fluke

Let's see...where were we? Oh yeah, shaking fists at heavens...Right, right, right.

Very much to my delight my buddy Josh, whom I've known since high school, came up for a visit. And despite the cloudy, rainy weather which continues its clammy grip on the North (save for one day) we had a really nice time. We got around town and did some good sightseeing, sometimes in the rain, and also hit the firing range for some good old fashioned fun (and potentially life-saving practice for me).

Ahhhhh - the Peacemaker (as I call it) - friend, confidant, last line of defense. I actually hadn't been to the range in a while and was pretty pleased with my performance, and Josh is a crack shot. When a box of fifty Colt .45 bullets (which are fine for range practice, but too weak for bear defense) costs $38, it gets a little pricey to go too often when you add in the $9 range fee and consider how quickly you burn through fifty bullets. The much more powerful bullets that actually go with the gun and that I actually load while hiking/camping (.454 Casull) are about the same price, but for only twenty bullets! As you can see the only range in town is outdoors (run by the state), with a series of stations with wood tables, and you have to tape your own targets on the stands you pick up on the side of the range. On the other side of that berm is the Cook Inlet, in case you "Aim High" at the wrong time.

The only ranges I had been to before I moved here were indoor ranges like you see on TV or in the movies where you just press a button to reel in the target, take a look, and zoom another one out into the range. Here you WALK the target out there yourself!!! You heard me right - you WALK downrange to place your own target! As the guy in the office where you check in says, "It's up to you to negotiate your own cease fires" with the other shooters before going out there. And while I really, really sincerely appreciate the fact he used the phrase "negotiate your own cease fires", firearm safety is no laughing matter! I've been there a bunch of times and am old school now, but the first time I went last year I sat and watched for quite a while to get the system down. Seems crazy, but you really rely on the other people to know what's going - I guess it's not that different from the way you trust people to drive on their own side of the road and stop at red lights. On second thought, maybe that's a bad comparison.

We did have one local day of sun, which all things considered was quite lucky, and Josh and I headed out on the Glenn Highway toward Glennallen, which is a spectacular stretch of road. I didn't take too many pics, but thought I'd toss up a couple (totally forgot to put one up of Matanuska Glacier - I'll do it next time).

Your humble servant, hard at work, unphased by the baby moose carcass in the background:

There are really cool mountains/rock formations out on the Glenn - and it's pretty much wilderness out there - no real towns to speak of. Lots of multi-colored scenery though:

Which upon closer inspection reveals what I see as a green mountain, then red, then gray, then black. As Josh noted, there is such variety in terrain up here. I have no idea how that happens, here in such close proximity, but am glad it does. If you saw this picture elsewhere would you guess "Alaska"?

I would say the highlight of the trip for me was a Kenai Fjords Tours cruise out of Seward. (Although I also enjoyed eating, on three occasions, delicious Alaskan halibut, considering I heretofore was no fan of seafood. That seems to be changing, though.) I did a Kenai Fjords Tour on my trip here in 2006, and it is a GREAT value at $129 for a six-hour glacier and wildlife viewing tour. I'd HIGHLY recommend it if you ever come to AK. Yes, you.

We originally had a morning tour scheduled, but switched it to the afternoon so we (meaning I) wouldn't have to get up so early to drive down there. It's about a 2.5 hour drive, but you have to allow for at least three in case you hit a snag or want to stop to take pictures. We did the 3:00 p.m. tour, but it sure looks like morning to me in this pic from the harbor. Seward is on Resurrection Bay, which is protected like a fortress from the outlying North Pacific Ocean, and enjoys year-round freedom from ice due to warm currents. Cloudy, but still beautiful - our boat is on the left:

Most unexpected turn of the trip - completely socked-in on land, but out at sea:

Warm, life affirming sun!

It's been so rare this summer, that when it comes out you stop in your tracks, close your eyes, and lay your head back to soak it in.

The tour we took normally takes you to Aialik Glacier, as it did in 2006, but sometimes opts for the closer Holgate Glacier if you spend extra time marine wildlife viewing along the way, which we happily did. Holgate to me looks very much like Aialik, pretty imposing even from a 1/4 mile away (for safety, you can't get too close in case a huge chunk cleaves off and swamps your ship).

Holgate Glacier was actually kind of cool too because there is a nice side glacier to the left:

No Kenai Fjords Tour is complete without an Alaskan Amber beer on the bow - I have pictures of myself and my buddy Jeff doing the same in 2006. And if you come, at least if you're with me, you'll do the same. We stayed outside the whole time - you may note that it's still Alaska, and you better layer up and wear a warm hat out there!

If you do go, you are sure to see Puffin, an Alaskan favorite.

Very exotic, regal looking birds I think.

The lighting in the below pic is totally off because I use manual settings on my camera (versus the presets like "landscape" or "portrait") and was taking a picture of something else at the time, but managed to turn quickly and catch a Puffin in flight right next to the boat - I think with a snack in its mouth. They are really funny birds - they can fly (as you can see), but barely. As our ship captain said, if they've just eaten, they are too darn heavy to lift off, try as they might. On many occasions you'll see one in the water right in front of the boat beating and pounding those wings like crazy, but unable to get out of the water. But just when all hope seems lost, they dive under the water to escape the crashing bow, much to the relief of all on board!

You are also sure to see Stellar Sea Lions out there, which are endangered, and certainly make a ruckus with all their barking!

Pretty cool - check out the size of that bad boy second from the left:

Looks like a few battle scars on these guys too - the one at right looks pretty relaxed - kind of like a dog on a lazy summer afternoon:

We also had an awesome experience watching some Dall's Porpoise, which look like mini-killer whales due to with their black and white coloring. There were about five of them that did that cool swimming with the boat, jumping out of the water thing that dolphins do. It is amazing how effortlessly they speed through the water and turn on a dime. The crew had us all whooping and hollering and clapping, saying that they are very curious animals and the more noise we made the more they'd stick around, which really did seem to work. I don't have any pics of that - I was just enjoying it. Sometimes in fleeting moments you really just have to put the camera away and live it.

Which brings us to my favorite, long-awaited sight. When you see lots of birds, there must be lots of food in the water:

And who needs lots of food? Humpback whales! We saw three on the way out, then a couple on the way back in (maybe the same ones). Here's one poking its barnacled snout straight up out of the water:

As the captain said, this one was "fat and happy" after plenty of feeding, rolling in the water to expose the white underside of his pectoral fins, and dragging lots of kelp:

And back right side up:

And upside down again:

Kind of nice background scenery as well I think. It's amazing to think these humpbacks do nearly all of their feeding for the year up here - when they return to their breeding grounds in warmer waters (like Hawaii, our non-contiguous brother to the west), there is nearly nothing for them to eat.

I know what you're thinking - where's the obligatory fluke (tail) out of the water shot? I saw it happen at least half a dozen times, the last the most spectacular and emblazoned forever up on my memory. But I have zero pictures of it. I've wanted to see humpback whales in the wild my whole life. Now I have, with my own eyes, and the last thing I wanted to do was to get mired in looking through the camera, instead of just living it. Thus the title of this post.

In fact, come to think of it, I listed a number of goals on my original roadtrip blog at http://www.upperoneroadie.blogspot.com/. To review, the List:

1. See the Northern Lights - check.

2. See humpback whales in the wild - check.

3. Check out the Iditarod - check.

4. Hike a lot - check.

5. Put my hand in the Arctic Ocean - pending.

6. Experience wildlife, safely - check (knock on wood).

7. Enjoy a nice sunny night (Solstice above the Arctic Circle) - check.

8. Go back to the Denali Highway/Tangle Lakes - check.

Seven of eight in just over a year - pretty damn good if I do say so myself.

Oh, and speaking of the loud, barking sea lions, does anyone remember those Bud Light "Wazzzzzzuuuuuuuppp" commercials?

"Gloomy Summer Headed Toward Infamy"

That's the top headline today Anchorage Daily News website: "Gloomy Summer Headed Toward Infamy". Well, it was the lead story until another grizzly bear attack left a summer lodge worker down on the Kenai in critical condition. Attacked 25 yards from the lodge on the way back from a hike - that is just not fair. Think about how close 25 yards is. A guest heard screaming and ran out to find a bear with the girl's head in its mouth and yelled and waved his arms around and thankfully convinced the bear to leave, likely saving a life by putting his own at peril. Lots of bear problems this year - three extremely serious near fatal attacks I know of, and many other less life-threatening encounters. And lots of bears having to being killed right here in Anchorage too - in the 90's it averaged 2 or 3 per year, but in recent years has been as high as 21. We're up to 17 already this year and very likely to set a new record before all is said and done. One or two of those bear kills are vehicle-related, but the vast majority are bears that must be killed (using our trusty guns) to protect humans. Crazy summer (or so-called "summer") - and COLD:

The 70+ and 75+ degree days no one really cares about, especially at this point - if you have anything starting with a "6" and a little sun it's plenty warm. But we have an average of 44 days above 65 degrees, and this year there have been 7? SEVEN! And the real killer is lack of 60+ degree days - an average of 88 days and we've had only 35. Sixty degrees is not that much to ask for! It starts cooling off here in August, and something tells me we don't have 50 more days of 60+ weather coming! And by my count it's been sunny three whole days out of the possible 24 in July so far, pretty much on par with June. Yeeeeesh!

And can you tell me what in the hell this forecast image is supposed to mean for tomorrow?

Even the weatherman has given up! So let's see, it could be cloudy, could be sunny, could rain. Way to go out on a limb, weatherman! If they could have fit a little graphic of the hand of God reaching down from the heavens they could have had all their bases covered. And 69 degrees tomorrow? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! As of right now, 3:40 p.m. on July 24, they are still showing a predicted high today of 61. As of right nnnnnnnow, 3:41 p.m, it's 52. It was in the 40's until lunch. At exactly what point is it going to skyrocket 9 or 10 degrees and get up to 61??? Near 70 tomorrow? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! On behalf of all of Anchorage, thank you weatherman, we really needed a good laugh! They need to do their little forecast models, then subtract about 5-7 degrees because they are high by that much nearly every day.

Whew, I feel better now. My real reason for posting, before an unplanned weather rant, is because while the purpose of this blog is primarily to serve you, the faithful reader, it's also a log for me so I can go back and see what was going on when.

So, for the record, IT FREAKING SNOWED LAST NIGHT!!! Not at city level of course, but in the Chugach Mountains at the edge of town. I looked it up (see, this personal "log" thing is coming in handy already), and last year it snowed up there for the first time on September 14, noted in the blog post titled "It Happened One Night". I sound excited about the first snow of the season in that post. I am considerably less excited about snow on July 23rd!

So, we basically aren't having a summer this year. That could hurt come winter. Why have things gone so topsy-turvy? Ocean temperatures basically. They say cooler waters off of Peru, which has been the case this year, leads to a "La Nina" weather pattern, keeping it cool up here. But there is some good news - they say those waters are warming, so we should have a warmer than normal October to December. I'll start stocking up on sunscreen and beach blankets right away! Then again, these are the same people saying it's going to be near 70 tomorrow!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Don't worry, I have a much more cheery post coming soon about last week's activities, which includes something I had always wanted to see and had never seen before. This picture, featuring me shaking my fist with contempt at mother nature, fits better here, and may give a clue as to the subject of my forthcoming post.

Homer: The Odyssey

Before I get started I have to say thanks for all the nice comments! And now, time for some quick geography. The world renowned Kenai Peninsula is the piece of land south of Anchorage between the Cook Inlet and Prince William Sound (which for some reason is not labeled on this map). I recently took a trip to Homer, Alaska, which is that little red dot on the western side of the Kenai near the bottom. It's 225 road miles away, 125 as the raven flies.


Now that you have a larger view for context, here's a closeup. As you can see, I live at the end of the Cook Inlet, and Homer is down at the beginning of the Inlet where it comes in from the Pacific Ocean. As you drive south, the Seward Highway continues on to Seward on the eastern tip of the Kenai, or splits into the Sterling highway at Tern Lake, cuts west, and runs down the Inlet to Homer on the western tip of the Kenai. All of the following pictures (except the first one) were taken between Clam Gulch and Homer (both of which are marked on the map).


At Tern Lake you must choose between the highway to Seward and Homer, and trust me you cannot go wrong either way. Of course, if you need some time to decide, the pull-off isn't the worst place to stop and ponder your next move:


Alaska has 60% of the functioning wetland ecosystems in the United States, and birds from around the world come here annually to utilize them, believe it or not from as far away as Antarctica. In fact 40% of Alaska is classified as either water or wetland, which comes as no surprise to me as there is water EVERYWHERE up here, and much of the time if you venture off of an established trail you better have boots on.

One of the nice things about living in a vacation-spot rich place is that not only can you do all of things the tourists around the globe dream of, you can do them at will, with no research or planning necessary. You can just go, and see what happens, and if you realize you could have done something differently, you can have as many do-overs as you want. Sweet! And because you don't have to do research, you get the pure joy of being surprised by what you see, instead of saying "Wow, there's that thing I've seen a dozen pictures of, and now I'm seeing it in person." The latter is still good, of course, but not as good.

Unfortunately, the trip down to Homer is pretty uneventful and there isn't much to see. At least there were some wildflowers along the way to help the hours and miles pass by. I think those are lupines, but I could easily be wrong (and am open to suggestion).


Oh. What's that you say? You'd like to know more about that water and the big mountain on the horizon. Hmmmm. Did I just say there's not much to see on the trip down to Homer? Upon further review, it's a SPECTACULAR TRIP!!! In fact, there's not a square inch of the Kenai that isn't spectacular.

The mountain out there is actually the 10,000 foot-plus Redoubt Volcano, part of a series of volcanoes in the area that are part of the "Pacific Ring of Fire." You can see four volcanoes along this stretch of the Cook Inlet, but as I'm sure you'll realize by the end of this post Redoubt is my favorite. Hold on a sec, is that a beach down there?


Indeed!


Wow - sandy beaches along the Cook Inlet - who knew? This is at Clam Gulch, aptly named judging by the groups down at the beach with their shovels.


Up in Anchorage, when you look out across the water there is always land on the other side. This far down the Inlet, when you look south you are gazing into the ocean beyond. Ahhhhh...open water.

The terrain on this side of the Kenai features very lush vegetation, and has a very pastoral, country-style feel. It's really peaceful. There are many ranches with horses:

And the natural ground cover is very, I'd say, succulent.

The above and below picture are of Iliamna Volcano, just south of and slightly taller than Redoubt. Quite a view and quite exciting, especially when you had no idea what to expect going in.

Homer is a beautiful place, and quite a small town really (just over 5000 residents in town and another 8000 outside the city limits). I could see living there if it came up. The houses I saw were on actual land, not so close to the next house you could just as easily pass the salt to your neighbor as to your dinner guest, as seems to be the modern trend. Down there you can really smell the sea air, and the tide pools feature starfish, anemones and other ocean creatures (if you are there at low tide, which I was not). Homer is on Kachemak Bay, has views of the nearby Kenai Mountains, and Kachemak Bay State Park on the other side of the bay can be reached by water taxi (it's on the list of to-do's for next time).

Homer is the "Halibut Fishing Capital of the World." Note the banner imploring you not to forget your $10 Homer Jackpot Halibut Derby ticket. They tag various halibut with prize tags up to $10,000, and if you catch one with a tag from the current year you win. (There are still fish out there with expired tags from previous years - tagged fish from 2003 and 2006 were caught this spring off the coast of Oregon). You win, that is, IF you bought a derby ticket. Some poor schlub from Wisconsin went out, believe it or not, on a charter vessel call the "Jackpot" last week, and caught a halibut with a $10,000 tag. But he didn't know you had to buy the $10 ticket! D'OH!!! (C'mon - I had to use that just once in a blog about Homer, right?) I guess the check is "the one that got away" this time.

On another note, good to know:

The folks in Homer and other fishing towns aren't too happy about the US Supreme Court reducing the punitive damages in the Exxon Valdez case (19 years after the oil spill) from $2.5 billion to $500K:

But how can you stay angry when you live in a place like this? Out in the water you can see the "Homer Spit", a 4.5 mile strip of land jutting out into the water. Before 1964 it was much wider and higher, and featured grassy meadows, wildflowers, and a stand of spruce trees. Then the earth shook more violently than at any time in recorded North American history, and, like many places, the bottom literally dropped out and it sank 6 feet, the sea reclaiming much of the land.

Now it's all sand/gravel with very little vegetation, and I'd say not very inviting (although I apparently did manage to capture one little strip of grass by the road in this picture - if you had asked I'd have said I remember none). There are several "campgrounds" out there, tucked in between tourist traps and fishing charter kiosks, but you're pretty much just on exposed gravel, with absolutely no cover. Not my cup of tea - I camped in Anchor Point, 15 miles north, which we'll get to in a minute. But here's the Spit:

And the beach along the western side.

I really enjoyed driving around town, down Kachemak Bay on East End Road and up on Skyline Drive (the aerial view of the Spit above was taken from Skyline).

For some reason I really liked this weather vane on East End Road:

Here's a view of Kachemak Bay from Skyline. Hey, is that a glacier out there?

Yep! I believe that's Grewingk Glacier. Interesting tidbit - like most glaciers it's been receding for quite some time, and in 1967 it caused a massive landslide because it had undercut the mountainside and left nothing in the void as it receded - the landslide was large enough to fill 11 million dump trucks!

As you know we've been having some weather issues, like many parts of the country, but the first few days of July were awesome - like it SHOULD BE this time of year! I was worried about clouds rolling in at any moment, but for a couple days anyway the only clouds were those nice, wispy clouds.

Ah yes, that's more like it. As I said I camped at Anchor Point. This isn't my tent (I was on the other side of the drive), but the campground is right at the edge of the beach, and looks a little better than a gravel spit, no?

I started to walk out on the beach just to take a quick look before I set my tent up and didn't have my camera out, and was bummed when a bald eagle flew right overhead and I had no camera. Then I realized at least a dozen eagles nest right there, and are constantly out on the beach. Seems funny to me to see bald eagles out standing among tide-deposited kelp or soaring over ocean surf. I know it's normal, I've just never seen eagles on a beach before.

When camping you always have to have a campfire, right? Burn burn burn burn!!! Enlarge if you don't know what that is and you'll see - I know at least a few of you know exactly what that is, and are smiling. Most expensive firewood ever.

Man, I have to say there was some spectacular scenery on that trip, more than you can ever really relate in a pic or two. But I think the most unforgettable thing will be the sunset on Anchor Point, over Redoubt Volcano. For the record, the first of the following pictures (which may be enlarged by clicking on them) was taken at 9:54 p.m.; the last at 12:06 a.m. You know how sometimes you can just tell a wicked sunset is on it's way?

I know it, the beachcomber in the middle of the above picture knows it, even the shorebirds below, a couple tussling with one another, know it.

And the extra bonus is that with our extremely long days, the sun sets darn near sideways, so you're in for a lonnnnngggggggg sunset.

Getting there:

The fishermen know what's coming.

The bald eagles too:

Oh my, it's getting good.

I couldn't whittle the pictures down any further, so you'll just have to trudge through a few different views/wave positions, etc.

If you don't mind...

It couldn't get any better than that, right?

Right?

Wave out, wave in:

Believe it or not, I was the only one on the beach. You ever just shake your head in amazement with your jaw hanging open?

When the purple overtakes the orange, the July night enjoys a fleeting victory. Without reservation, the most unbelievable sunset I've ever seen.

Goodnight sun.