Category Archives: Alaska

Alaskan Winter Survival: Mission Almost Complete

April 12, 2014AlaskaAlaska, Anchorage, family, wintercatoak

Current season: Spring

Current conditions: Overcast, lightly snowing, 30* F. Not very spring-like.

According to the calendar, we’ve officially survived our first winter in Alaska. In recent weeks, we’ve had beautiful sunny days that last until after 9pm. Many days have reached above 40*F, and the bears will be waking up soon. Most of this is likely a tease, though. Last year, the final snow day was May 18th, which gives us over a month to go until spring really breaks through.

Regardless, the worst of winter is behind us, and I feel triumphant about making it through unscathed and unshaken. I didn’t do everything I wanted to over the winter, but I’m pretty sure I’ll get another chance. Here is our winter overview:

Fireworks and carnival @ Fur Rondy — Fireworks @ Fur Rondy, February

Snuggling...lots of snuggling — Snuggling

Running...but not nearly as much as I'd have liked — Running…but not nearly as much as I’d have liked

Indoor soccer...always moving too fast for a clear shot! — Indoor soccer. Always moving too fast for a clear shot!

Outdoor carnival in February. Only in Alaska!

Birthday at Bouncin' Bears. Yes, the cake is a Storm Trooper head. — Birthday at Bouncin’ Bears. Yes, the cake is a Storm Trooper head, April

That sums up our first winter in Alaska! We were never bored; there was always plenty to do, both inside and outside. We made new friends, saw new places, tried new things, and still have a list of what we have yet to do for next winter. But when spring finally shows up, there will be no tears shed here. Winter was good, but this summer will be epic.

March Forth: The Motto in Motion

March 23, 2014Alaska, RunningAlaska, inknburn, running, Trail running, ultra trainingcatoak

I had my birthday early this month and, for the first time in 30+ years, noticed that my birthdate has an intelligible homophone: March Forth. While a simple statement, the phrase has a wide range of applications, and feels particularly potent for me right now. I expressed my surprise on Facebook that I had failed to notice “March 4th” sounds like anything other than a date, and a cousin mentioned that perhaps I haven’t been ready for it until now. That seems like a legitimate explanation.

The following Saturday, I was able to put the phrase into practice. Two months ago, I registered for the Snow Canoe Loop 11-Miler in Willow. At the time, I was only running one non-stop mile at a time, but thought I had plenty of training days to work up to 10-12 miles. My longest run before the race ended up being 6. If this had been a road race, I probably would have backed out, but a few factors made it seem like the run would be doable, despite my lack of preparation. The course is by default broken up into small sections. During the summer, the course is a trail that links up a series of small lakes. The idea is to alternate carrying and paddling a canoe through the loop. This time of year, the lakes are frozen, so the entire trip is done on foot. The topography creates a nice mix of flat open trail across the lakes, and gently rolling terrain in between. I planned to keep a nice, sustainable run across each lake, no more than a mile at a time, then hike the portages. Since I’ve been hiking through the snow with a baby up to five miles, I thought a 1/2 run, 1/2 hike with only my body weight sounded altogether reasonable. Overall, all I needed to do was March Forth, and eventually I’d reach the finish.

The morning started out cold. The start time wasn’t until 10am, but by 9:30, the temp was still only 0* F. I was glad I brought my INKnBURN Tech Tube. At that temperature, the air was piercing to breathe, but adjusting the Tech Tube so I was breathing through it warmed the air just enough to be comfortable.

In most races, I use an app on my iPhone to track my pace and mileage. In this race, my biggest concern was keeping the battery from freezing. I stopped by REI a few days ahead of time to look for carriers, and found a waist pack. I would feel absolutely ridiculous wearing it in a way that could be seen by anyone, but being able to keep my phone under all of my layers seemed like my best bet at having a functional phone if I needed it. The carrier really limited my accessibility, so I just pushed “Start” on my running app at the beginning of the race, and forgot about it, though I did miss the nice lady who lives in my phone and announces each mile marker.

In the early part of the race, I settled in to a pace that felt like I was covering a decent amount of ground without being overly ambitious. There had been some recent snowfall, but the trail had been traversed by several snow machines, making the surface packed but soft. The sun was shining, the snow was fresh, and the air was crisp; overall, it was a beautiful day to be out.

I was surprised with how good I felt. The small turnout of 22 runners spread out quickly, and I was satisfied with the spot I assumed in the queue: towards the back of the middle, but not last. Though the snowy surface created some slow going, it was still easy to at least remain at a consistent pace. As the miles added up, I continued to feel great and even started catching up with and passing other runners.

Tramping down the trail, it didn’t take me long to recognize my first rookie-Alaskan mistake. The sip of water I had taken earlier from my hydration pack had filled the tube with water, which promptly froze solid. Too late I remembered reading a tip about blowing air into the straw to force all the water back into the pack. I considered stopping to dump the rest of the water instead of having it slosh pointlessly behind me for the following couple of hours, but figured in a life or death situation I could drink straight from the bladder.

After a few miles, I had acquired a follower. He was pretty close behind me, but being so bundled up, chit-chat was semi-impossible. All I could knew was that it was a guy, so for the following miles, I ran the possible scenarios through my head.

“He wants to pass, but I’m blocking the way.”

“I should step off the trail so he can get around.”

“I’m walking up this hill; he hates me.”

I finally decided that self-conscious paranoia was really a waste of my time and energy, so I settled on, “He approves of my pace, and has decided to match it.”

With the frequent alternations between wide, flat, open lakes, and quiet, wooded hills, the miles passed quickly. At each lake crossing, the temperature would shoot up. Running completely exposed in the sun, I would start considering stopping to pull off a layer. Maintaining forward movement paid off each time. It was back into the trees and shade, and the air temp would lose about 20 degrees.

Without my phone handy, I tried to estimate about where I was. Just as I was thinking I had to have gone at least 4 miles, I saw someone standing in the distance. Four miles was a major underestimate. The person was manning the race’s one aid station at mile 6.5. At the aid station, I stopped for some water and was introduced to Jay, my follower. He confirmed my final conclusion. He’d started out with a group that was too fast, but my pace was just perfect. With just 4.5 miles left, we started back out on the trail.

I’d been trying to count lake crossings. I knew there would be 16 total, and I thought I’d done 9 already. The countdown was on. Several lakes later, and I wasn’t sure if there were 2 or 3 left, but I knew my legs were about done. All the sun was making the snow soft, and the lateral sliding was taking its toll. The loop part of the course had come full circle, and I was heading back along the beginning of the course, though each section now seemed much longer than on the way out.

I lost Jay at some point and found myself alone in the trees. I wasn’t sure if the next lake was the final crossing, or the second to last. I decided to plan on expecting two more. That way, I wouldn’t be disappointed, and I might even be pleasantly surprised. This particular portage ended up being the hardest. It wasn’t hilly, but was a long stretch of small rollers. They would have been fun on a snowmachine, but were a mild form of torture on spent legs. I resorted to hiking as fast as possible, which was a welcome reprieve. The section was certainly runnable, but as long as I continued to March Forth, I felt no guilt.

The trees opened up, and I picked up my pace across the lake. On the far side, the trail went straight up, or so it seemed. I went back to my fast hike, not sure of what lay in wait for me over the hill. To my delight, cresting the hill brought me not another lake, but the downhill road that led right to the finish line. During my final trudge up the hill, Jay had caught up, and brought encouraging words.

“You pulled me most of the way, so you have to finish first!”

That was enough to put the spark back in my step. In an attempt to sprint to the finish, I discovered my legs were essentially numb. It was a welcome feeling. I crossed the line to my waiting family, which was the most welcome feeling of all.

Other than my frozen pack, my race plans all worked out. I even had a fully functioning phone that managed to record the whole race. Admittedly under-trained, I not only finished, but had a great race on a beautiful day in an awesome place, and even ended up as the 4th female. With such success, I’m ready to live March Forth every day of the year.

The Last Great Race on Earth

March 4, 2014AlaskaAlaska, endurance, family, Iditarod, inknburncatoak

On Sunday, March 2, I loaded up my two little boys and headed north to Willow. We’d been to Willow before, when we went up for the Winter Solstice 5k, but Sunday was a whole new world up there. We went to see the start of the Iditarod! The idea of the Iditarod has always inspired me. I’m sure I have a predisposition towards grueling races of insane distances over rugged terrain. Although I have no immediate plans, I know I’ll run 100 miles someday. The challenge is just too tempting. With that internal beast calling to me, there was nothing I could do to resist going to see 70 individuals, each with 14 -18 dog teams, start on a journey of over 1000 miles through vast expanses of western Alaska.

Sunday’s weather was beautiful: clear skies, radiant spring sun, and temps just above freezing. Absolute perfection, since the start line was nothing short of an outdoor festival. Starting at 2 o’clock, one musher left every 2 minutes, so the start lasted for almost two and a half hours. It was truly a spectator event. Amongst the crowd of thousands, there were camp chairs, tents, fire pits, beer coolers, snow machines, hockey games (it all took place on a lake), sleds, and everything and anything else you could want for a winter celebration.

As I watched the teams pass on the beginning of the trail to Nome, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of emotion for each one. Considering the planning, training, sacrifices, and commitment of each racer all wrapped up in the history and legacy of the race itself, I knew what I was witnessing was, in fact, a very big deal. In my brief glance of each team, I felt nervous and excited for them all at once. I tried to imagine what each one must be going through: the adrenaline rush of being ushered off by thousands of cheering fans at the beginning of 1000 miles, countered by the anxiety of entering into the unknown of wild and uncontrollable variables. For each team, be they rookies or 30-year veterans, the same possibilities lie ahead, of unexpected dangers and disasters, or anticipated victory and glory. I know experience must be a huge advantage, but this is Alaska. Anyone who enters this kind of endeavor with 100% confidence would be nothing short of delusional.

Looking over the list of entrants, it is interesting to see the diversity. Most racers are from Alaska, and a few are from the Lower 48, but it is an international event. There are participants from the predictable home countries of Canada, Norway, and Sweden, but also less expected locales of New Zealand, Australia, and Jamaica (!). In addition, there are almost 20 women on the roster. You can follow this year’s Iditarod here.

Experiencing the start of the Iditarod was truly an awe-inspiring event. I hope to make it an annual family tradition. Maybe one day I’ll feel all those same emotions (multiplied by a million?!) for my own boys-turned-mushers!

I spent the day in my Flutter Pullover from INKnBURN. I layered it over a merino shirt, and was warm enough all day. I thought the Flutter print was fitting for the day, since monarchs annually migrate 2000 miles! For 15% your first order from INKnBURN, use code INBSK14 at checkout.

Postcard of the Week

Anchorage Sunset

2014 Checklist and New Year’s Day in Photos

January 5, 2014AlaskaAlaska, Anchorage, family, fishing, hunting, photography, skiing, snowshoeing, sustainabilitycatoak

We may be living in the last frontier, but we are still far removed from frontier living. In lieu of resolutions for the new year, I instead made a checklist of things I’d like to accomplish in 2014, all centered around sustainable, local living:

1. Grow a garden – Last spring, John did some strategic Craigslisting, and traded a jackhammer he no longer needed for piles of redwood 2×12’s, which we made into planter boxes. We lined the bottoms with gopher wire, filled them with dirt, and fertilized with worm castings. I collected packets of heirloom seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Spring just finished melting off the last of winter and…we decided to move to Alaska, so we had to scrap the whole project. I’m looking forward to sweet redemption this year.

2. Shoot something and eat it – I grew up around hunting, but still have managed to know almost nothing about it. Tags? Licenses? Permits? I don’t even know where to start. I’ve fired a 9mm and a .45 in a shooting range, and an M-16 with blanks, but that was about 10 years ago. Despite the obstacles of ignorance and inexperience, I’m sure it can be done. I should probably start making some local friends.

Once I navigate the legalities and subtleties of the hunting part, I’ll be thrilled to get on to the eating part. I picked up a copy of “Cooking Alaskan” at a thrift store, and have perused such timeless recipes such as “Baked Seal Hindquarter”, “Moose Tongue Stew”, and “Ptarmigan and Dumplings”. The only question now is which magical meat will end up in my pan?

3. Catch more fish – This at least I have a start on, having caught my first Sockeye salmon last July. I know I’ve barely scratched the surface of Alaskan fishing with those outings, however. There is still charter fishing, fly fishing, and ice fishing among other fishing venues that I continue to know next to nothing about. Again, friends in the know would be quite a boon.

4. Can – This should easy if my garden is remotely successful. Anything that can be done in the kitchen is well within my comfort zone. I tried to make blackberry jam once, and it completely bombed, but I came up quite short of the recipe’s called for amount of blackberries. I’ll call that one a fluke.

5. Make soap – I bought a book on soapmaking in high school, undoubtably linked to the timing of Fight Club coming out on VHS. I’ve dragged the book with me everywhere. It’s time to make that dream a reality.

6. Go berry picking – For this kind of expedition to be fruitful (terrible pun intended), I not only need to make friends, but make friends that really like me. The locations of berry picking spots in Alaska aren’t something that can be Googled. They seem to be filed less in the category of ‘public information” and more so in ‘highly classified’.

To add some check marks to my list, I’ll need to put in some concentrated effort on planning, learning, and networking. It’s a good thing I gave myself the whole year. Meanwhile, here is a photo recap of our New Year’s Day.

John and Silas enjoyed some more downhill action…

while Skye and I explored 4 miles of trails. Here is what we saw:

Anchorage’s Perfect Playground

December 30, 2013AlaskaAlaska, Anchorage, family, outdoors, skiing, snowshoeing, wintercatoak

Snow, snow, everywhere and…plenty of things to do with it. Around here, snow is in no way an excuse to stay in. Bikes, running shoes, and hiking boots don’t get a winter break. Playgrounds and dog parks aren’t shut down, and actually stay reasonably busy. A sled hill in the middle of town yesterday was as packed as a summertime water park.

For our Sunday afternoon fun, we had our sights set on covering some snowy terrain right in the middle of Anchorage. The Hilltop Ski Area and Hillside Trail System are right next to each other off Abbott Rd., which has major shopping centers and malls just a few miles down. We weren’t interested in any of those conveniences yesterday, but the proximity to town makes the area super fast and easy to access.

Hilltop is a tiny ski park and perfect for beginners, our 4 1/2 year old little grommet being a prime example. Silas’s first ski season was last year at Mt. Shasta, and he really picked up a lot. John went with him yesterday and reported that after a first warm up run, it all came back to little Si. We are certainly pleased to be able to raise two little skiers in Alaska. Olympics 2026? Maybe 2030?

While Silas and John were playing with gravity’s pull, Skye and I were literally across the street in the Hillside Trail System. The trail system provides miles and miles of wooded dirt trails in summer and groomed and lighted nordic and multi-use trails in winter. With Skye back in the carrier, we snowshoed for about an hour. Times like these are some of Skye’s best naps.

When they say Multi-Use, they really mean it. In the short window of time we were out, I crossed paths with examples of 5 of the 6 listed users. I saw several people hiking or walking their dogs in regular boots, one skijorer, a pair of fat-tire cyclists, multiple nordic skiers, both skate and classic, and one runner with a waist leash for his dog. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; with temps above 20 and partly sunny skies, it was an amazing day to be out.

Overall, as a family we found a place that meets all our needs for getting out on the weekends. Close, cheap, beautiful, and acres and acres of snow! I think we’ll be coming here every weekend, all winter…at least until Silas is ready for Alyeska.

We’re Legit!

December 1, 2013AlaskaAlaska, baby, DMV, family, Halloween, home birth, moose, photography, water birthcatoak

John has already been in Alaska for more than six months, and I’ve been here for almost five. I feel we have finally reached a few milestones that elevate us in status to a point slightly over “tourist”, perhaps even above “extended transient”.

1. We now have a kid with an Alaska birth certificate.

Certainly, the most exciting development is the small addition to our nuclear family. Skye was born November 5^th via flawless home water-birth. Born in the same fashion as his big brother, Skye’s birth certificate is also pretty unique, citing a city of birth that has no L & D department. I was hoping this birth would go as well as my first, and it did, with the only surprises being a) the lightning-fast 3 hour labor and b) Skye’s robust weight of 9 lbs. 3 oz.

By now, nearly four weeks later, I feel almost 100% physically recovered, with the exception of a complete inability to run. I discovered this temporary disability on the treadmill at the gym on Monday, but I was at least able to row myself into a sweaty frenzy as an alternative. But enough about me…here’s Skye!

Skye is now one of the few people I know in Alaska who was actually born here. Meeting someone new usually involves an exchange of names, other relevant information pertaining to the conversation, and a mention of where each person lived originally. I have yet to hear someone say, “Oh, I moved to Anchorage from Fairbanks five years ago.” It’s usually, “Georgia”, “Minnesota”, “Colorado”, etc. I think that explains why all Alaskans love Alaska; everyone is here by choice. I hope Skye, and Silas, of course, will love Alaska as much as John and I do already.

2. The DMV knows we’re here.

For the past several months, I’ve felt increasingly self-conscious about the “California” plates on my car. In my paranoid imagination, they drew nothing but scornful, eye-rolling looks from fellow commuters every day. I even had a coworker take notice and advise me about driving in the snow, to which I had to reply, “I’m not from THAT part of California”, (though I have lived there).

Thankfully, that episode is over. In the days John stayed home with me after Skye was born, he generously braved the DMV for me and picked up my new Alaska plates. About a week later, I was able to face the DMV myself to trade in my California license for an Alaska one.

3. We’ve had a holiday that involved a moose tragedy.

Halloween was a whole new game this year. I didn’t expect the non-stop stream of trick-or-treaters, and ran out of candy. A neighbor estimated she had 70 kids stop by, which may serve as evidence of how most couples pass time in the dark winter months. I wasn’t surprised by the moose patronizing the neighbors’ yard, as I had been notified that they are particularly fond of munching on jack-o-lanterns.

What did surprise me was the over-zealous neighbor who took it upon himself to defend the throng of local children from our placid ungulate visitor. Moose are not amused by human challengers, and humans with loaded handguns are not amused by moose who stand up for themselves. The standoff ended with the moose in an injured heap, waiting for law enforcement to arrive, finish the job, and end his misery.

I couldn’t help thinking that the whole episode added up to an unnecessary waste with respect to the moose, as well as precautionary overkill with respect to carrying a loaded firearm to go trick-or-treating, but chalked it up to my California-style sensibilities. In relating the story to others, however, I found my reaction was pretty universally shared, and I was being neither too soft nor too liberal.

4. Our family holiday photo shoot took place in 15 degrees.

My only additional comments are 1) They look amazing, and 2) At least it was above zero.

5. This plug:

An indicator that you are observing a vehicle that is not parked in a heated garage and has an owner who would prefer the engine not freeze to a point that keeps them stranded at home all winter.

Everything is New…Again

October 27, 2013AlaskaAlaska, family, hikingcatoak

As we approach the four-month mark in Alaska, our life bares virtually no resemblance to what it looked like in July. This, however, is mostly good news. We’ve relocated (again), and are back towards Anchorage. The commute from Wasilla was beautiful, but not worth an additional $400 per month in fuel. I did my best to try to arrange some kind of carpool situation, but everything fell through. Our newest residence is smallish, but cute and clean, and promises to serve us well for the duration of our lease, and maybe even longer. John has moved on to his third employer, which is also good news. Both the fit and the long-term outlook are excellent. Though my employment has been consistent since August, and will continue to be, my day-to-day activities are about to be far removed from those of the past months. The nature of said upcoming activities, I think, is clearly illustrated here:

The last several weeks, my motivation to be an active participant in all the wonder Alaska has to offer has severely waned. I’ve felt somewhat guilty and lazy about that situation, but it’s only temporary, and also forgivable. We did, nevertheless, manage to get out a few beautiful weekends in September.

Reflection Lake – A short but very pretty hiking loop took Si and I around Reflection Lake in the Mat-Su Valley, about 10 miles south of Wasilla. I can’t imagine a nicer time than fall to visit the lake.

Talkeetna – About an hour and a half north of Wasilla on the Parks Hwy is Talkeetna, a ridiculously cute little touristy town with incredible views of Denali.

Denali!

Autumn in Alaska

August 31, 2013AlaskaAlaska, autumn, family, fishing, hikingcatoak

While California is still sweltering in 90 degree heat, fall has descended on Alaska. I’ve been informed many, many times over that we moved during the most unusual and spectacular summer the 49^th state has seen in a long time, so I assume the summer/fall contrast isn’t so obvious every year. But for this year, the mostly sunny days have given way to almost two solid weeks of cloudy skies and rain. Fortunately, autumn is my favorite season, so I’m not particularly heartbroken to have to throw on another layer for the days that only see temperatures in the 50s.

The strangest part has been getting back into the school year with the feel of summer entirely evaporated. Every other year, as both a student and a teacher, the first few weeks to a month or so of school have always been accompanied by reminders that it’s still technically the summer season. I have no complaints, though. This perpetual drizzle reminds me that I may as well be inside, attempting to enrich the lives of youth, rather than being teased by the typical sunshine out of my classroom window, suggesting that there are more invigorating things to be accomplished instead. Luckily, there have been a few breaks in the weather that we’ve taken full advantage of.

Clouds still loomed, but John found some respite from the rain outside of Seward last week.

Not bad for a Monday. Rock fish, halibut, and coho.

Sure wish we could claim all these halibut, but alas… Our freezer got heavier that day nonetheless.

A nice break from the rain last Friday. The full rainbow was too big for my camera.

Not certain that these will give you super powers. Found on a hike outside of Palmer.

Time for this kid to get some camo.

My berry ID skills are about one step above “Everything Is Poisonous!”

Caught in his natural state: Moving.

Pleased that green is the overwhelming late-summer color.

These stairs went on for about a quarter mile. Calves were quivering by the time we made it back down.

Last rose in a field of rose hips.

On top of the world!

Felt very confident about eating these…

…not so much about these, though they do look delicious.

Foraging for a well deserved snack. This little hiker trooped on for 3 miles without so much as a whimper.

Yellow with purple polka dots. Impressive.

The sun is out!…and our hike is over. Ah, Murphy, your laws rule my life.

Just another beautiful day in Alaska.

Alaskan Idealism: Project Progress

August 18, 2013AlaskaAlaska, fishing, knitting, Movingcatoak

Now that we’ve been in Alaska for almost 6 weeks, the regular, annoying, logistical issues involved in relocating are starting to iron themselves out. Settling into our new residence, finding our way around, and getting started working are mostly concerns of the past. It’s been a busy time, so really exploring what Alaska has to offer in our immediate area hasn’t been as much of a priority as I’d hoped, especially considering that summer here is almost over, and it sounds like “autumn” as I’ve known it may not exactly exist.

The necessities of day-to-day living have most certainly intruded on my vision of Alaskan living. We’ve run into two separate couples (one pair including the fabulous Vanessa Runs) who, each knowing their time in Alaska was limited, were really able to live it up, visiting Denali National Park, Fairbanks, Seward, and Homer among other destinations. If we make it to all of those places in the next year, I’ll consider myself fulfilled.

Fishing

Despite the reality check, John and I have made some positive progress. Two weekends in a row took us down to the Kenai Peninsula for fishing during the Sockeye salmon run. The first weekend was my first legitimate attempt at fishing of any kind, and did not end up successfully. John, however, came home with 9 salmon. Our freezer and bellies are very happy and full.

The next weekend was a small haul by seasoned Alaskan standards, but I couldn’t have been more excited. John caught a Sockeye and a trout, and I came home with two Sockeyes. Standing out in the Kenai River in my waders, I felt that first real tug on my line, started backing up to the shore, and immediately tripped and fell over into the river, mostly defeating the purpose of my waders. I hung on to my pole though, and after satisfyingly long struggle, with the assistance of John and our net, got my first catch up to the shore.

Since then, we’ve had grilled salmon, baked salmon, pan-fried salmon, smoked salmon, salmon roe, and salmon-head soup. Lunch today was Chipotle Salmon Wraps with Bacon. Are we salmoned-out? Nope. But I’m certainly not disappointed about John’s charter fishing trip coming up tomorrow that could yield halibut, rock fish, yellow-eye, and…more salmon. But Coho this time.

Car Repairs

A new and unexpected project that was recently created for us is the issue of vehicle maintenance.

More appropriate mugs would say, “I Drove the Alaska Hiway…and lived! My car…not so much.”

So far our tally is as follows:

John’s truck:

New clutch – $$$

Replaced fan clutch – $$

My SUV:

Rear brake pads and resurfaced rotors – $$

Four spark plugs and coils – $$

Squeaking front brakes – TBD

Boat trailer:

Lost brake/turn light cover and wires – TBD

Broken winch in need of welding – TBD

Moral of the story: the cost of driving to Alaska includes more than gas.

Knitting

My Central Park Hoodie was not finished before crossing the border into Alaska. But it’s done now!

Since finishing, I’ve done a really cute baby hat, and am 2/3 of the way through a sweater for Si. Turns out knitting projects do not need to take multiple years each.

Settling

Since moving to Alaska, we’ve already moved. We readjusted to our new surroundings over the first month with relatives in Anchorage (thanks Scott and Jaime!), but have since set out on our own. We headed out of town to Wasilla, because, after all, we didn’t move to Alaska to live in the city. The commute is significant, but on my way to work I have views of glaciers and mountain ranges, cross two big rivers (the Knik and the Matanuska), and have to keep my eye out for moose (6 have been hit since July 1st). It’s not unpleasant. And after living in San Diego County, there is zero traffic by comparison.

Overall, Alaskan life is moving along nicely. Next up: first day of school with students, preparing for winter, the DMV, and getting ready for baby #2.

Waiting for our table at Moose’s Tooth in Anchorage, which never has no wait. Not never.

CAtoAK

A new start in the last frontier