Love from Team Leslie

From morning

Till night

May each day be filled with

Love

Peace

And Light

Cheers to 2017,

IJKL

The Cracked Van Newton and the Haunted Van Gilder

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THE CRACKED VAN NEWTON. Ice Cream Newton, our beloved Chevy Astro van, has been sporting some significant cracks in her windshield for several years now. No biggy. Just about every vehicle in Alaska has dings and cracks and holes and rust... we're all about practicality, not aesthetic perfection. But when that practicality is compromised, in the form of the rubber gaskets that presumably block water from flooding the inside of Ice Cream Newton, we take notice. And when the duck tape holding down those rubber gaskets begins to go "fwap, fwap, fwap" at cruising speeds above 10 mph, you know it's time to actually deal with the situation.

Enter, Seward. A quaint ocean-mountain town without a stop light and, come to find out, without a windshield replacement shop. No, to get something fancy like that done, you need to schedule a week day appointment in the metropolis of Soldotna, or Anchorage, both 2 hours away. I tried for a weekend gig and a kind (tongue pressing against my cheek) gentleman told me,

"Honey, I didn't move here to handle glass on my Saturday, you know what I'm sayin'? There's fish to catch and moose to shoot."

THE HAUNTED VAN GILDER. Finally I tracked down a shop in Soldotna that had an open appointment on a day I was going to be in town for a committee meeting. When I mentioned I was from Seward and needed a guarantee that the job could be done well that day, or I wouldn't be able to get home, the guy got excited...

"Seward! I lived there for 10 years when I first moved up from Georgia... worked at the Van Gilder Hotel. You ever been there?"

"No, I don't think we have... I think I've seen it though."

"Well you should go by; it's a beautiful hotel, just beautiful. I was into restoration you know, that's why I took the job. But the haunting was a little much."

 "The haunting?"

"Yeah, I had at least three days when I told my boss I had to leave, it was just too much... You see in the winter months we would close the hotel down and just work on stuff, and take reservations for the busy summer. One day I went up to the second floor and opened a supply closet. Next thing you know, every sheet and every towel is flying up off the shelves, flying out the door, hitting me in the face and making a huge mess all over the hallway. Another day I was going up to THE room, the room where Fannie was killed back in the day.  I was trying to hang up a framed plague in there and as soon as I started hammering on the wall, the window blows open, wind pours in, lamps fall over, pictures crash down from the walls... I was like, 'okay okay, I won't hang up the plague!' Guests too... tons of people staying there would report hearing loud stomping up the stairs in the middle of the night, doors slamming, that sort of thing... it's like sometimes the murder would get reenacted."

So according to the Seward City News and the Van Gilder Hotel website itself, a woman named Fannie Guthry-Baehm really was killed by her husband in the hotel in 1950. Now considered by many locals (and clearly my windshield repairman!) to be the resident ghost, Fannie shows up on all the Alaska ghost hunting websites as a must visit in Seward...

HALLOWEEN. Our trick or treating options just got a lot more interesting! We'll let you know if we cross paths with the undead!

Fall Festivities

 FALL. Ahhh... Crisp days, yellow leaves, orange pumpkins, wood stacking, apple cider... Ahhhh...

Kim helps haul wood over the bridge to the Manitoba Yurts as part of their "Woodstock" event... we stay there so often, it feels like a second home!

Many hands make light work! And the 30 some helpers were treated to live bluegrass music and a chili feed afterward... wish that happened after chores at home!

EQUINOX. Fall also means that marked transition from more light to more dark... and as in past years, we celebrated the equinox with the annual potato parade and gleaning. This time, however, we pulled in new friends, a borrowed garden (Wells Fargo, despite its questionable business ethics, offers up community garden space here in town... sweet!), and a more spectacular backdrop...

Indigo picks low bush cranberries so we can have sauce at the post-parade feast.

Even ZigZag gets into the costumery as we prep for the parade...

Time to harvest!!

Biking back with our garden bounty to eat!

SEWARD MUSIC AND ART FESTIVAL. We had heard about this event when we lived in Kenai, but never made the drive. Now, we were able to make the walk! A super home-grown weekend celebration, the festival featured an Egyptian theme with decorations made by Seward school children, including Miss Indigo. Bands and performers from Alaska and beyond lit up the stage (30 person orchestra covering David Bowie, anyone?), the beer garden cranked out Midnight Sun and Kenai River Brewing faves, and food trucks set up shop with gooey cinnamon rolls and cheesy spinach bread, while local artists and craftspeople sold everything from salmon leather wallets to Kodiak sea glass jewelry. We went every day! (Now, keep in mind that unlike other more populated places, Seward is two hours away from any other major town... when something cultural comes around, you have to take advantage...)

"Walk like an Egyptian..."

A performer from Anchorage who did aerial art on a fabric rope above our heads!

Indigo's class made the eye poster hanging above the beer garden

INITIATION DUST. So there is a name up here in Alaska for the very first snowfall that covers the tops of the mountains and marks the end of Summer... "Termination Dust." However, as a family that gets pretty darn excited about the fluffy white stuff, Team Leslie calls it "Initiation Dust," and each day more and more is accumulating up high. As expected, we've been getting outside as much as possible to enjoy the changing landscape and watch as the snow level drops lower and lower... 

Check out that Initiation Dust!

Of course J needs to check it out up close and personal...

A September ski down Mount Tiehacker above our home town and Resurrection Bay.

Sometimes we play down low too!

DATE NIGHT... ALASKA STYLE. Yesterday after school, Indigo went to a friend's birthday party. Translation? J and I got our first date night in a while! We decided to catch the last bit of sunlight and head out on a mountain bike ride before grabbing some appetizers at Chinooks down at the boat harbor... you know the family mantra: "Do it all!" 

We drove along Exit Glacier road and pulled over with a view of the glacier itself, spilling down out of the mountains with a pale blue glow. Our trail, the Resurrection River Trail, snaked along the river, hemmed in on one side by rocky cliffs and steep rain forest, with peekaboo glimpses of the glacier around each corner. J, Mr. Safety himself, was quick to point out that this was serious bear country and an active time of day for them too. Plus being on bikes made our potential bear encounter fairly dramatic; if we came across a bear, we would likely just run into it, literally, and have it pissed off from the start. So he made sure we each had a bear spray in our water bottle holster - if one of us smacked a bear, the other would want to have the spray close at hand! 

We started pedaling and J called out a loud deep "Hey Bear!" every 30 seconds as I just tried to get some balance and momentum and not careen off the trail. Finally in a groove, we swooped about for a while, over rocks and roots, bridges and creeks, and sometimes patches of wet dark mud... wet dark mud with BIG bear prints in them. We stopped. Bear prints that covered up the old human footprints and still had squishy edges. They were fresh. "Time to turn around?" J asked. "Hey Bear!" I yelled. We turned around and started pedaling back the way we had come, acutely aware of how the cliffs and the river created walls on each side of the trail - if we did see the bear, we and it wouldn't have many options of where to go. Gulp. The Hey-Bearing became like a song, especially loud on blind corners. Squish. I looked down and saw my fat tire had plowed through a huge pile of berry-laden bear scat that was not there on our way in. "Hey Hey Beeeeeear!!!" Our hearts pumping faster than they should given the fairly flat riding, we continued hooting and hollering our way along the trail, hoping that we wouldn't have a bear crash our date; a third wheel is no fun, especially a massive one with sharp parts!

We made it back to Ice Cream Newton unscathed, and headed back into town for some much-needed wine and halibut cheeks. Even something like a date is just a bit more intense up here!

A Stone's Throw

J and Indigo heading down the Harding Ice Field trail above Exit Glacier

HOME. So our parents (who live very far away) might cringe at this, but when I was brainstorming about this blog post and a way to meld all our recent adventures into one common theme, the word that came to mind was "home." Alaska, and specifically Seward, feels like the absolute perfect match for us at this time in our precious lives.  And don't conjure up images of an actual beautiful home with hardwood floors, huge windows and a killer deck... we are currently renting the bottom of a duplex with the majority of our belongings still in boxes in our half of the garage. So this is more about the daily way we move through the world - our life here - not our stuff. Which, to me, is exactly how it should be. (Disclaimer: If we end up building or buying a home with huge windows and a killer deck, I'm okay with that.)

A STONE'S THROW. So what is it that makes Seward, Alaska feel like the place we are meant to be? Quite simply, we are surrounded by epic beauty and the opportunity to enjoy it with friends and family, right out our door.

Case number 1: Biking and  Skiing

In late June, J and friend Trent leave our home via bikes at 6PM one day and return at 6PM the next (just in time for a salmon chowder dinner party in our backyard; well played, gentlemen). During that 24 hour period, they...

mountain biked up the Lost Lake Trail and camped for a few hours...

climbed Mt. Ascension, looking out past Resurrection Bay to open ocean, down on the Harding Icefield and out to both ends of Kenai Lake...

and swooped back down a good 4000 feet on skis before snagging their bikes for the remainder of the descent. All in a day's work.

Cases number 2: Cute Animals

In August, my cousin Molly flew out from New Hampshire for over a week of Alaska exploring and shenanigans. I'll admit it was a very rainy week (sorry, Molly!) but we managed to play like wet rock stars, and meet some incredible animal friends here in Seward along the way. Molly had quite the knack for capturing their pix, so a shout-out to her for sharing!

First up was a quick bike ride to the the small boat harbor, which we discovered was a haven for hungry sea otters. Quick fun fact about them: sea otters have the thickest coat of any mammal with a whopping one million hairs per square inch - no wonder they're such adorable fur balls!

This guy kept diving down and getting crabs, which would then crawl around on his belly, until he snagged them with a fast paw and CRUNCH. (Kinda made you want to eat salty potato chips!)

A tufted puffin paddling and diving at the Sea Life Center.

Visiting a kennel, meeting puppies and being pulled by sled dogs training for the Iditarod were things Team Leslie had yet to check off our Alaska list, but Molly, an animal-lover to the bone, inspired us to give it a go! Turning Heads Kennel was a 5 minute drive. 

7 week old puppies were hard to give back...

9 DAY old puppies were even harder!

Wise words!

Case number 3: Blueberry Patches

For my 40th birthday in August, I  reserved the Dale Clemens Cabin in the backcountry above Seward for three nights and invited folks to come up for an afternoon, night, or the whole darn time. At the time of the reservation, we lived in Kenai and I thought that exotic Seward would be a fun change of pace; little did I know that we would be living 10 minutes from the trailhead! But fun it was, and we picked enough blueberries to make Sal proud!

Pumped to hit the trail!

Molly charging it, through mud, mist and Devils Club.

Party cabin!

A friend hiked in a two tier champagne cake from The Moose Is Loose - cabin food heaven.

View from a truly killer deck.

Case number 4: Sea Kayaking

For several years I had heard about a hostel on Resurrection Bay that was only accessible by water taxi. Fabled to have the best sea kayak rental rates around, beautiful facilities and a magical rain forest and ocean backdrop, Kayakers Cove sounded dreamy. So when a group of girl friends invited me out there for the night the weekend before school started, I decided to sneak away for a little recon mission and find out the truth. With a dry bag packed full of warm clothes, Luna bars and box wine (what else does a girl need?), I walked down to the small boat harbor to catch the water taxi.

40 minutes of calm seas, clear skies and spectacular island scenery en route.

We scarfed a late breakfast of bacon and muffins in the hostel common area, and then got suited up with boats and gear, all for $25/day... amazing.

After a few hours of paddling the coast, sneaking up coves to waterfalls, and picking more berries, we returned to the hostel for a hike, some dinner and a bonfire.

The forest trail behind the hostel was as magical as magical gets.

Even the outhouse was cool! (Red ribbon = occupied.)

Case number 5: Wildlife

Even though our old town of Kenai is way more synonymous with salmon, there are still a few to be found in these parts. J and our old buddy Chris gave rod and reeling a go our first week in town; J ended up setting down his rod and picking up this Sockeye with his bare hands!

"This is how we do..."

and we got a little artsy before turning it into dinner!

So Mt. Marathon Bowl has always been a go-to place in Seward for us because it holds snow. Back when J was on his crazy ski-every-month streak, we would clamber up into the bowl in September and seek out some dirty white stuff to slide on for a few feet. Now this geologic feature sits above our backyard. We can see the craggy tips and snow fields and the cranking waterfall from our deck (Yes, we do have a deck... not a "killer deck" but a deck). The trailhead to climb up the few miles into the bowl is about a mile from our house. When we first moved to Seward in late spring, it looked like this:

J kicks back after a quick hike up and ski down...

while Indigo takes advantage of the breeze to fly a kite!

Now, in late summer, it looks like this:

A perfect spot to have after-dinner cocoa,

do the dishes,

and hike down after a night under the stars.

Two weekends ago we climbed up to spend the night. It was supposed to be grand weather - blue skies, warm (high 80's), and no chance of rain. As we finished up dinner and chatted over hot bevs, an animal watching us in the dusky light caught our eye: a lynx. The next morning, we watched a pack of coyotes gather on an adjacent hill and heard them "yip yip yaoooooo..." A mama moose and her newborn waltzed through as well. Mountain goats dotted the rocky slopes. J commented that it felt like we were in Wild America. We were less than a mile as the crow flies from our house.

So there you go. I sound like a shameless commercial for the wild Alaskan frontier, but it's all here and real and a part of our life... it took us a few years up here to find it, but we did... and we are so grateful.

Viking Chamber Pot Pillages on a Dreamy Packraft Adventure

Viking paddle princess.

DREAMY PACKRAFT ADVENTURE. At some point last year our dear friend Chase texted and said, "So where are we going on a river trip this summer?" A little research and a few phone calls later we had a local pilot lined up to drop a crew of us across the Cook Inlet up at an alpine lake in Lake Clark National Park... We were going to paddle the 50 mile Tlikakila River from headwaters to mouth.

Eight people plus gear meant we needed a pretty big float plane so we finally got to fly in an Otter... Indigo and I approved.

The view from above...

The flight alone was worth the cost of the payload - glaciers, rocky peaks, waterfalls, frolicking bears and a whole lot of wilderness played in our windows like a classic Alaska promotional movie. By the time we splashed down everyone was buzzing with a natural high driven by the beauty and adventure of what we were about to do. 

Note the blue potty - it will come up again... 

That high quickly turned to sweat and shivers; the plane couldn't get us particularly close to the sandy shore so we began a sort of fireman brigade with heavy packs through the icy water. Afraid I would simply tip over trying to woman-handle some of the gear, I opted for the job of holding the plane in place by a short rope ... I had to take turns lifting up each of my sandled feet from the 33 degree lake in an effort to maintain some sense of feeling. But the plane didn't float away and we managed to unload everything and everyone without incident. Yee ha!

So when you're on a trip like this and there's still the transportation around, in this case the Otter, you feel relatively connected to the regular busy crowded world. But when that transportation leaves, there is an intense and solemn moment as everyone mindfully considers how alone we now are, how isolated. It's a unique and powerful feeling. In this case, we all stopped our gear adjustments and chatting and silently watched as the Otter taxied around the lake, lifted off, circled around, and disappeared over the mountain tops. Our trip had begun.

Fast moving freezing water... tricky business.

Before we could actually begin paddling we needed to hike 2 miles over braided channels of glacial run off, along gravel plains and through thick alder. Because we had too much to carry in a single trip, some of us lucky ones got to do the trek twice which involved conversations like, "does that pile of bear scat look familiar? I don't think we went this way last time..." Or "don't cross the creek here! I just overflowed my boot tops!"

When all the gear and people were finally in one place and the water was deep enough and flowing in the right direction, we were able to bust out the boats and prepare to hit the river! Our very brave friends Steve and Leyla had purchased a much-used foldable canoe and needed to unfold the "skin" of it, connect metal ribs and frame pieces, and sacrifice their first unborn child to the water gods. The rest of us needed to use ripstop nylon inflation bags to catch air and push it down into our packrafts to inflate them. That done, we hopped in and paddled!

Beaver dam portage!

We had to pop out of our boats a few times when the river ran shallow or an obstacle blocked the way, but after a few hours we were consistently cruising and letting the scenery soak in...

J captained our new duo packraft named Sky Blue, while Kim rocked Red Foo, a tribute to LMFAO a la Indigo.

And thus we went for the next week, paddling in the heart of the day, stopping to snack and explore, choosing strong campsites, and enjoying the undying light of evening with lengthy meals, campfires, games and eventually sweet sleep.

Stopping to do some journaling.

Is that a yard sale? 

Cozy.

Each section of the river held new landscapes, wildlife and treasures. Bear tracks that had likely been walked by generations of bear, stamped into the earth with the repetitive mindful steps... Wolf pups yipping in the dense forest... Carnivorous sundew plants open and waiting for insect prey... Bears, both black and brown, curious yet respectful, just like us...

Rock hunting.

Found a cool one!

Sundew!

Snack break shinanigans...

VIKING CHAMBER POT PILLAGES. So one tradition we carry from trip to trip is to have everyone bring a costume that they are encouraged to bust out at an appropriate-to-them time. Chase had his classic fleece mumu, Jen and Michael had velvet jester hats, Team Leslie had a random assortment of leis and hats and headbands, but Steve and Leyla seemed to have forgotten to bring something...

Not so! They surprised all of us by slipping back in the line of boats, only to begin screaming and yelling, paddling like mad, and overtaking my boat dressed as vikings! The target of their pillage? Indigo's blue potty!

Success!

Team Leslie survives the Viking attack.

So after a true variety of experiences on the river, we found ourselves paddling out into a great expanse of blue - Lake Clark. Unlike the Gates of the Arctic trip of two summers ago, the white capped mountains had never stopped flanking the river, nor did they stop at the lake. We were in awe. The wildlife continued to grace us too; swans nestled their beaks into their wings, peregrine falcons circled in the sky above, and eagles dove and caught fish for their young in a nearby nest. So we enjoyed a final night and morning tucked into a wildflower meadow along the shore, even sneaking a skinny dip before the hum of the Otter brought the reality of civilization back to our ears.

Our final campsite at Lake Clark.

Our ride home...

Happy Campers.