The Alaska Adventure: Back to the Future

FLUX CAPACITOR. September has arrived which means hopefully, you got in your August ski. What? You didn't know you needed to get in your August ski? Let me explain: There exists a fanatically dedicated crew of individuals (said in the nicest way) who go skiing every month of the year. J, of course, is one of these unique people. He has logged a ski day for more than eighty consecutive months. Multiple surgeries, the birth of a child, summer - nothing had stopped J's streak... until we came to Alaska. Now August is usually one of the trickiest months anyway with hard to reach, sun-cupped, dirty snow at higher elevations. This August had the added challenges of unknown terrain, head-high bushes, and massive piles of bear scat. Remember that blueberry picking venture after we ran into the boaters near the gold mining claim? I wasn't allowed to blog about it at the time, but it was actually a failed ski attempt. And with only working week days between J and September, it looked like the Leslie household was in for a period of mourning. Just as I was about to dye our hippy-beanie-hats black, a new friend invited J on the most cockamamie scheme of our Alaska experience (on a school night):

6:00 PM "Hey, I'm still in, are you in? Sweet. See you in a few. What? Sure I can bring my bike."
7:00 PM J and friend park truck at primary trail head, put packs and skis on backs in traditional A-frame formation, and begin bike ride in to secondary trail head.
7:30 PM J and friend park bikes at secondary trail head, switch packs and skis to flux capacitor* formation, and begin ascent.
9:00 PM J and friend actually find a relatively large snow field with decent white stuff. Game on.
9:30 PM With the sun setting, J and friend ski in August. (The streak lives!)
9:45 PM J and friend cannot find trail back down. Friend realizes he has not brought a headlamp.
10:30 PM J gets enough cell reception to call Kim and say, "I think we just found the trail... but I won't be home at eleven like I thought."
10:31 PM Kim falls back asleep, happy to know that her husband is stumbling around the Alaskan wilderness in the dark with his new friend and a ridiculous amount of gear, alive and well for the moment.
1:00 AM "Honey, I'm home." "Did you get to ski?" "Yes." "Excellent." "Night night."

*NOTE: Apparently non-winter cross country travel in Alaska can pose quite a problem to those of us who like to hike with skis on our backs. They stick up too high and get caught on trees, bushes and other overhanging vegetation. Thus a very creative soul invented a different way to position one's skis to allow for more aerodynamic travel. See picture below.

Eat your heart out, Doc.

The elusive August ski.

BACK TO NH. With 150 mph wind shears shutting down flights out of Anchorage last night, it was looking like Gran was in for yet another horrible travel epic back to NH. However, after a lovely last lunch at Veronica's, we gave her covertly tearful hugs and kisses at the Kenai airport and watched the first leg of her trip fly successfully. Indigo's thoughts to me in Ice Cream Newton after Gran's departure: "Since I don't want to cry when I'm a grown up, I think I'll just choose to live near my parents." Can we get this in writing?

And although she and Indigo wore it quite a bit, Gran's silver whistle was not used to scare a bear on this trip. In fact, in a very unAlaskan turn of events, Gran never saw a living bear on her visit. She did, however, want to pass along this bear wisdom gleaned at the visitor center near Exit Glacier:

If you encounter an aggressive black bear, you may fight it.

If you encounter an aggressive brown bear, play dead.

If the brown bear begins to eat you, you may fight it.

Here are a few more Gran-in-Alaska statistics for you:

Spotted a sea otter, a bald eagle and a moose within a twenty minute period in Homer.
Survived 7 days of rain and only 2 days of sun.
Had a fisherman wave a massive halibut tail at her in greeting.
Saw a rainbow and a glacier at the same time.
Photographed a record number of Russian Orthodox Church steeples.
Collected too many beach treasures to bring home ("Look guys! Doesn't this rock look like the head of a dog? Can you see it? If I turn it this way? Well I think so and I'm keeping it.").
Loved us up like only a Mom/Grandmother can... we love you and miss you, Gran.