Survival of the Fittest

SURVIVAL. Team Leslie made our first venture into the winter-esque backcountry this weekend on a two night ski trip into the Chugach National Forest. Pulling the Chariot and sleds, we joined some friends for a 5 mile trek into a quintessential wood cabin on a lake in the mountains. Due to some "our wives insist on going to the local holiday craft fair" shenanigans, we got a late start and left the trail head at 2 pm. Mind you, it is starting to get a bit dusky at 2 pm. Humph. So although we arrived at said cabin without firing up any headlamps along the way, it was cold. Alaska cold. I won't dive into the absolute zero thing again - you get the idea. And the way these cabins work is that you need to collect your own wood (so you ski across the lake to find downed, dried-out trees, chop them and drag them back on a sled), saw the wood down to a reasonable size (so you spend several hours pulling and pushing a somewhat dull saw over frozen logs in subzero temperatures) and finally try to successfully light these frozen sticks of hope into a life-sustaining glow. And if all that work makes you thirsty, you need to take an axe and try to hack through ten inches of solid ice on the lake to reach some water to boil. Did you bring your camp stove? Because of course the wood stove isn't anywhere near being able to boil anything yet. And your headlamp better be working, because it's dark as you're doing all of this. Keeping the kiddos entertained is on the list too.

So the sense upon arrival to the cabin was one of pure survival. There was no admiring the woodwork or the surroundings. We had real work to do and if it didn't go well, we were in trouble. Now the flip side is that if it does go well, you get the extreme satisfaction and true thankfulness for the basics of life: warmth, water, food, safety, family... an incredible reminder. We were thankful.

And we're off...

Umm... not into it, guys.

Doing better!

Our cabin - note the smoke and glow from the roaring fire!

Northern lights and the big dipper - yee ha!

TAMING OF THE VOLE. Once we were settled a bit, we noticed some hooks and rope hanging from the ceiling of the cabin and wondered if perhaps there was a rodent issue and we were supposed to hang our food (the more morbid among us considered that maybe sometimes the wood collecting didn't go so well and folks decided freezing wasn't a good way to go). Sure enough, upon waking our first morning we saw a small furry critter scurry along a rafter. Over time, she (Indigo said it was a female) got more and more daring and was even so bold as to run onto my thumb as I was "relaxing" on a bunk. Later in the evening, after the kiddos had gone to bed (i.e. the parents had busted out a few flasks and a rip-roaring game of dominoes), J decided he was an official vole hunter and all hell broke loose. Probably needless to say, the vole was not tamed. There was a brief moment of success as J caught it in his gloved hand, only to have the triumph dissolve into chaos as the kids woke up, several of us fell over in fits of laughter, and the wily vole literally slipped through his fingers. Survival of the fittest.

I'm on vole look-out duty!

BIRTHDAY FAVORS AND MOOSE SAUSAGE. An odd coupling of phrases, yes? No. This is Alaska, remember? Our friends brought a delicious moose sausage dinner for one of our nights out, and as it turns out, the sausage came from a one year-old's birthday party. The father of the birthday girl had been part of a highly successful moose hunt and they had more meat than could fit in their freezer - so of course they decided to give out packages of moose sausage as party favors at their daughter's party! Time to rethink those cellophane baggies filled with candy and trinkets, right? (I know some of you are seriously terrified that I'm serious, especially with Indigo's big day coming up... fear not, it was really tasty, but unfortunately, we have yet to take down a moose.)

More moooooooose.

SPARKLING AIR. J and I have spent a lot of time in the snow in a lot of different places, but the snow here so far has been incredibly dry and light. So much so that at times flakes are swept up into the air and when the sunlight hits them, the air itself appears to sparkle. At first I thought maybe I was dizzy or dehydrated but sure enough, everyone else saw it too. It's like someone glittered your life. Amazing. And in the moonlight it's even better.  Plus the snow doesn't melt off of the trees, leaving the forests as a perpetual winter wonderland. Worth the survival piece for sure. 

Perusing the lake.

Snack break.

We made it back!

The Grateful Living

THE GRATEFUL LIVING. This is a short one, folks. Instead of reading your screen for the next five minutes, "count your feathers" like Indigo did. Not only is it thematic this week, it's good for your brain. Love to you and yours who follow The Alaska Adventure; we are so grateful to be having one!

Indigo's Turkey of Thankfulness.

Lakes and Lotions

KID SLEDDING
We have yet to make friends with any dog sledding families out here, but in the meantime, we figured we could pioneer our own version. A few inches of powder on our frozen lakes forced us to trade in our skates for some skis, and convert the Chariot from a wheeled wonder to a super sled. We promise that we give Indigo ample food, water and rest breaks... and check out those loooooong shadows!

"Mush, mush..."

"Ummm... Mom? Dad? Anybody?"

Team Leslie.

J takes a turn as the lead kid.

Tiny mouse... BIG lake.

So low in the sky, and setting earlier and earlier...

Some related video footie for you now... Subscribers: Click on the blog site to see it; you know the dealio.

SECRET WEAPON
A far cry from majestic mountains, rugged rivers and mesmerizing mega-fauna, Team Leslie has recently become quite interested in product. As in, "Ooooh, your hair looks so fluffy and shiny! What product do you use?" This is new. J says you don't want to hear about it, but I think it's only fair to share the many sides of the real Alaska. And right now, the real Alaska is making our faces peel off. Without promoting any particular brands, I will say that in the past, J had found a single bar of soap which met just about every hygienic need he had from head to toe. I, a girl mind you, managed to get by with said bar along with a pea-sized glop of conditioner for my feisty locks. No longer. The extreme cold and complete lack of humidity here in Alaska is doing a number on us young and old. Last week, Indigo began screaming at the top of her lungs and when we came running, we found her hair sticking straight up in the air and adhering to her face, eyes and mouth in straight, fine, statically-cemented strands. Yesterday, J asked if I could get him his own bottle of hand lotion to keep at school. J? Wanting hand lotion? And so, we have become serious product consumers, scooping up creams and lotions with descriptions like "secret weapon" and "for extreme medical conditions." This is NOT the extreme we were envisioning...

"Give me the f-ing lotion and no one gets hurt." (Fear not, this is just J's trike commuting apparel.)

 

TREATS

Thank you Granddad and Granise!

FROZEN TREATS. A combination of crystal clear skies and freezing temperatures over the last few weeks have created six inch plus sheets of glass on our ponds and lakes... amazing. Growing up in New Hampshire I did my fair share of pond skating, but this was surreal. In many areas, there were no cracks or bubbles to give you a feel for depth... you just saw right through to the plants and sandy bottom. Am I on ice or miraculously walking on water?  And then, as the sun set, the moon rose, and temperatures shifted even colder, these powerful, deep, punches of sound would travel through the ice and slam the far shores (scaring the bejeezits out of us). Indigo, undeterred, took advantage of this frozen treat to learn how to skate!

Guys, I'm only 3... I need a snack break!

Ahhhh YES.

Do I look like Daddy?

Did you ever play hockey, Mama? (No.)

Well, I play hockey.

Moonrise. (That's ice, people.)

TRUNK or TREAT. I first believed this to be an Alaskan phenomenon but have since heard word that it is practiced in the lower forty-eight as well... the awkwardly spirited "trunk or treat." Yes, just like it sounds, folks park their cars in one lot, decorate the trunks, fill them with candy, and invite little ones to visit and request their sweets. I can tell you that Indigo made out like a bandit in a remarkably short time. Perfect for the super cold coupled with a skimpy princess outfit. She had to work for it though; these Alaska State Trooper types are a tough bunch.

Officer: "What do you say, little girl?"

Indigo: "You say it, Mama."

Officer: "Come on, you can do it, what do you say?"

Indigo (hiding behind my legs): "You say it, Mama... pleeeeease."

Kim (with a big smile and LOTS of enthusiasm): "Trunk or Treat!!!"

Officer: "Nope, if the little lady wants a treat, then she needs to say it herself."

Kim: "You gentlemen are our first stop at our first ever trunk or treat - I think she's just getting warmed up..."

Officer: "Well, she's gotta start asking for candy then!"

Indigo (barely visible): "Trunk or treat."

"I'm getting the hang of this..."

FRESHIE TREAT. I failed to mention in my last post that J found some October turns on fresh snow here on the peninsula. Knock on wood, the streak is in the clear for now...

Another foot of this stuff and I'll be golden (with a headlamp on).

GROWN-UP TREATS. As in those fun, black-lit, blue gin and tonics. And glow stick dance parties. And ridiculous outfits. We've got to do something in the dark and cold, right?

Glacier blue, baby.

Dance par-tay.

Behold: Disco J. (And you thought the trike was hot.)

TRICK or TREAT. Yup, we did the good old fashioned kind, too.

KIND fairy princess.

WICKED witch of the west.

Spooky neighborhood.

Two Disney princesses: Indigo and her preschool teacher, Ms. Kelly.

CHRISTMAS TREAT?!?! As of last week (yes, that was before Halloween), our entire town was decorated for Christmas. Street lampposts, trees, public buildings, cheesy polar bear figurines... you name it, it's lit up and spreading good cheer. NOW. Yikes. Apparently the town employees are under order to get the job done before it's too cold and windy to be up in those bucket trucks. Merry Halloween, everyone.

Every lamppost.

"We've got spirit, yes we do..."