The Alaska Adventure

FEEDING THE FIRE. Honestly, I started and deleted the beginning of this blog post three or four times... ideas about the government shut down... climate protests... extreme weather... my head was swirling with the melody to Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" with a 2019 twist. But I don't think I need to write anything out explicitly or in great detail. You get it. The world is a crazy place. Even way up here in Alaska, we feel it. And stepping away and onto a forested trail, or sitting at a friend's kitchen counter, or cuddling up with a good book - print media, mind you - not on my Kindle, has a grounding effect.

SIMPLER TIMES. Homer, Alaska. Known for its spectacular views, whimsical art community and reality TV stars, Homer is one of Team Leslie's go-to long weekend havens, as you may remember. This time, we had our mind on a particular prize: The famed Homer Rope Tow, only open on Sundays during the winter, snow-pack permitting. As old school as it gets, this volunteer-run ski hill touts the following on its website (read in your best 1980's Warren Miller voice):

The westernmost ski area in the US!
We have 20 acres of terrain accessible from the 850′ tow with 260′ of vertical.

View from the bottom up to the top - 260 feet of vert, in all its glory

As laughable as those stats may seem, I'll tell you this: We all had to get some serious brave on to pick up that thick rope and feel our hearts yank out through our throats the first time. The tow is fast! Thankfully, veteran riders gave us some hot tips, we took our time, and by the end of the day, we were lapping Mt. Ohlson like we owned the place.

Okay, full disclosure, I only rode it all the way to the top one time; in the final 20 feet the rope started slipping through my gloves and I began sliding backwards, visions of the domino effect carnage I was about to create flashing before my eyes. Repeating, "hold on... HOLD ON!"out loud and watching the volunteer lift operator vigorously offer the thumbs-up managed to do the trick and I crested out, unscathed. How much does high adventure like that cost, you ask? $20... per family. If we'd hit Aspen, we'd be out $540 and their high speed quad couldn't hold a candle to the thrills of the tow.

From 0 to 10 in less than a second.

We settled into the warming hut at "the base" for a lunch break on picnic tables by the wood stove. The only evidence that it wasn't 1950 was the stash of shiny new loaner helmets on hangers by the door.

The winter take on the "Kids Don't Float" loaner life vest campaign up here... smart!

All in all, a lovely escape to a simpler time...

SMILES + LOVE FROM AFAR. Things are looking pretty festive in these parts! Local businesses are taking great efforts to decorate and illuminate every nook and cranny of town as the final descent into darkness comes. And we finally got our first real dump of snow here at sea level, so the landscape looks brighter and our hearts are lighter. A handful of scenes from our Alaskan world: