Christmas, the birth of Christ and of new beginnings

Well folks, I am back to blogging again. The phenomenon of me sharing thoughts, photos, ramblings etc. is usually spurned by some dramatic life change or event that I think might be of interest to my friends and family...and this is exactly what's happening. Check it out:


       - In January of 2007 I left the USMC, went climbing for two months, then made my way to Boone, NC the place that was to be my home for 3.5 years

      - Two weeks ago I completed the circle when I graduated from App and set off on a month long climbing/living trip that will include Joshua Tree, Las Vegas, Southern Arizona and a number of places in between

Recent happenings have added an additional layer of excitement to this journey that was supposed to end on Jan 21st with me heading back to Boone. For those of you who aren't already in the loop,  I am moving to California in Feb. for a job. This is exciting as my climbing trip will now serve as an introduction to both the town and state that I will be living in for the next three years. I'll give details once things become more final.. In the meantime, join me, Stuart, Kate, Gary, Ben and others over the next month and I'll promise to post amazing photos, long/boring rambling posts, and perhaps some things that'll make you laugh. Cheers!

Laura's Visit/Final Week

In lieu of words, I offer a video. Yes I (and Laura) am too lazy to type any more than this.

The Harding Icefield

So I just returned from a BIG two day adventure out on the Harding Icefield. I left with anticipation, excitement, and bit of nervousness, and returned with a sore body, exhaustion, and a sense of contentment.

The Harding Icefield is a 700 square mile field of ice and snow that feeds all of the 30+ glaciers of Kenai Fjords National Park. It is a vast desert of snow and crevasses, broken only occasionally by beautiful nuntaks (mountains that rise out of the snow). I was invited to accompany my co-worker Deb and her boyfriend Ernan over the 4th of July weekend and I quickly said yes, partially because my alternative option was staying here in Seward with the extra 27,000 drunk people who descend on the town for the holiday. We met up on the evening of the 2nd to talk logistics over Alaskan IPA, and on Saturday morning we were off.

The trail to the edge of the icefield sits at sea level and rises at about 1,000' per mile over the next 4.2 miles. The hike is gorgeous, as you begin in a dense forest teeming with orchids, birds, and bears and gradually make your way to the alpine where you are afforded beautiful views of the exit glacier. Our packs were quite heavy and I was psyched to put skis on my feet rather than carry them on my back. We arrived at the icefield with some good time to spare and made our way out onto the ice, carefully choosing a route that would lead us around the dangerous icefalls as we made our way to the nunatak where we planned on camping for the evening. The skiing was quite easy, though it began to get eery when fog descended on the icefield and we were forced to navigate in white-out conditions with only the GPS for guidance. Every once and a while a long narrow crack would appear in the snow, reminding us of the hidden dangers that we could encounter. Skiing in the whiteout was crazy, as the ground, sky and horizon all looked the same. I've been told that people sometimes come down with vertigo in these situations and can believe it because I couldn't differentiate between land and sky myself. After a few long hours of skiing we began to question our coordinate, so we decided to sit on our packs, break out the map, and grab a new one. We sat down to do so when all of a sudden the fog lifted the slightest bit and revealed our nunatak about 100 meters in front of us! Everyone's spirits lifted and we skied up to set camp for the evening.

The following morning I awoke to one of the more beautiful vistas I've seen. The fog had lifted in the night, affording us spectacular views of the ice we had skied across, the nunataks in the distance, and many glaciers in the distance. After a quick breakfast we broke camp and began skiing towards Lois' Spire, a rock route that sits atop of a nunatak, and one that we were eager to try to climb if the weather allowed...Which it didn't.

About 2 hours later we were skiing beneath a large nunatak that had deposited avalanche debris with pieces as large as refrigerators. It was a bit disconcerting but was necessary given the huge crevasses that loomed farther to our left. As we made our way beneath this peak and towards the spire the fog returned with a vengeance, obscuring everything from our sight, and eventually forcing us to follow our tracks back towards our camp in hopes that we would find sun and clear skies there. When we arrived back at our nunatak Ernan mentioned that it would be cool to kite ski, so that is exactly what we did. The wind was ripping in the direction we needed to ski to get home, so we grabbed a tent fly and some trekking poles, fashioned a sail, and let the wind carry us a few miles back toward home! It was super fun and our laughter was all that we left in our wake. A few hours later we were back on the icefield trail heading back to Seward, where I took a well deserved sleep and began writing this blog. I have posted photos of our trip on facebook, and would be happy to provide more exciting details if anyone wants to call/e-mail me. Enjoy the video I took when I woke up yesterday!

More Pictures Here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=455830&id=572250523&l=2672d66249

and http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=454869&id=572250523&l=5a9d0a2bf6

Cheers,

Mike

Here comes the sun...

.......for the first time in about a week! Yes, after 7 days of being socked in with heavy fog, drizzle, 48 degree temps, and rain the sun decided to peak its head this morning. Luckily I was sitting at a desk from 8-5, so I didn't have to worry about its harmful rays burning my pale, pale skin. I left work at 5 o'clock fully intending on lifting weights, but the sunny day inspired me and I decided to go mtn biking w/ some friends instead.

For those of you who aren't "in the loop" (feel bad, all my good friends know this already:), mountain biking has filled a hole in my heart. The hole came about when I realized that the 75 bucks I spent to have my lovely girlfriend send my climbing gear was all for nothing, as Alaskan rock is about as good as Alaskan sweet tea or Alaskan bluegrass.( Not good, in case you're wondering. I found both of these out the hard way after being psyched that I found them). Luckily for me, the park issued me an entry-level Kona mountain bike w/ a front suspension as my commuter. Well a few turns of the allen wrench, and two reflectors and a rack later, and I had a trail-worthy bike. I've been getting out a few days a week to supplement the marathon training that I am doing and it's been super fun. But back to today..

Today we rode Lost Lake, a 14 mile out and back that has supposedly been called one of the "top 10 mountain bike rides in the continental U.S." by a few bike mags. Right now only about 8 miles are free of snow, but those eight miles definitely live up to the hype! The trail is rocky and rooted enough to provide a technical challenge on the climb, but smooth and fast enough that the descent will blow your mind. Top it off with a few splashes through streams, the threat of bears (buddies saw one on the trail Sunday), and 100' cliffs on the side of some parts of a narrow trail and you have a classic good time. My buddy Greg had too good a time today and actually took about a 20' tumble down a STEEP hill into some alders, thorns and rocks..it was a grim reminder that we needed to be careful, and I was astonished that he was okay after the fall he took.

Anyway it was a great day that was much needed after a rather boring week spent stuck in the office with rain and clouds hanging around for far too long. I am psyched to be here again, and I hope you all are feeling the same way about where ever you are. Enjoy the few pics/video I got before the camera died.

Cheers,

Mike

Poseidon, one. Mike, zero.

Hello everyone! I just returned from a week spent exploring the farthest reaches of Kenai Fjords National Park on the park's boat "the Serac." The purpose of our trip was to examine a bunch of culturally significant sites that had been cataloged during a previous archaeology study, in order to determine whether there had been any disturbances/changes to said sites in the past 17 years.

You may have noticed my "poseidon, one..." title. This refers to the butt-kicking (and subsequent hurl-fest) that I received from the great sea God when I decided to skip my customary dose of sea-sickness meds prior to embarking on a four-hour journey through the rough seas of the gulf of Alaska. I had decided on an early trip that dramamine didn't work for me, as I usually feel a bit queasy even when I take it. Well let it be known that it WAS working, and that my punishment for failing to take it was swift and severe. The only upside to my experiment was the sense of elation I felt when we arrived at McCarty Fjord and the seasickness abated. It felt SO good that it was almost worth being sick..almost.

The trip itself was a hoot, if you consider 4 days on a small ship w/ four 50-60 year old ladies a hoot. In all seriousness my sailing companions proved to be great company, though I quickly grew tired of being mothered the entire time. Life on this ship proved to be vastly more comfortable than was life on the U.S.S. Kearsarge/Iwo-Jima . Our meals were all cooked by the deckhand/chef Marybeth, who used her allotted $20 per person per day budget to create fantastic meals, complete w/ appetizers, desserts, and snacks galore. A glimpse at some of our fare:

- Halibut tacos made with halibut caught the week prior by our captain, Jamie

- Coconut and pecan glazed sweet potatoes cooked for 6 hours in the crock pot

- Yogurt and granola + blueberries, strawberries, coffee and more

I could go on and on but it's hard to beat meals prepared from fish caught THAT DAY and placed on your plate a few hours later. At one point Jamie and I worked out that we had consumed $140 worth of Halibut given current market prices, and all it cost us was 20 minutes with a fishing pole and 40 minutes of prep time.

The archaeology bit proved to be a bit less exciting, as I am not a huge fan of digging 15x15cm pits in the middle of random depressions in the ground. Luckily two close encounters of the bear kind and multiple glacier viewings (see photos above) kept things interesting. Seeing a giant black bear only 20' away makes the knees weak, though I was full of bravado after our first bear hightailed it into the alders upon seeing/smelling us. The second bear encounter sucked the bravado right out of me when a black bear continued walking towards us despite our braves cries of "go away bear", and the fact that I was presenting my can of bear spray like I was about to put two in his chest, one in his head. We backed slowly away from the bear and onto the beach, and he must've gotten bored because he turned away, lumbered to the edge of a lagoon, and swam off into the sunset. Whew!

All told I had a fantastic time viewing parts of the park that are rarely seen by visitors unwilling/unable to afford the $500 dollar water taxi that is required to access the Kenai's most remote areas. Alaska is continuing to blow my mind, and I can't wait until I have my first visitors from the lower 48 (my sister in July and my girlfriend in August).I posted a short clip below this, and hope it will give ya'll a nice glimpse of the place I live. Enjoy.

Cheers,

Mike

Scat Man

And I ain't talkin' bout Charlie Parker! I'm talking about Martin, the guy from our NPS Anchorage office who spent much of yesterday taking pictures of bear scat. Yesterday's adventure was an overnight trip on the Resurrection River trail, a 40 mile stretch through brown bear country that connects exit glacier road to the town of Hope, on the far side of the Kenai Peninsula. We saw plenty of signs of the bears, and even scared something BIG off about 50 yards in front of us at one point, but we never actually laid eyes on one. I will say that it is a bit disconcerting to see a downed log that has been demolished and still sports claw marks in it (see photo above), but 5 cans of bear spray + 1 shotgun = happy Mike.

(The pictures from this post are here:http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=441023&id=572250523&l=14dec90b0f


just follow the link and you can view large versions of each picture by clickin on them, whether or not you're a facebooker. This thing won't let me upload pics)

The hike itself was a trip. Never one to settle for the "normal" way, I decided to step up the game (NC style), and hike a whopping 4 miles instead of the full 40. I mean almost everyone who hikes this trail hikes the whole thing..it's kinda like "what's the point in that?" Let's just say that my father often said to be a leader not a follower, thus I led the 4 person group I was with to the first major stream crossing where I promptly declared "No way I am crossing that, it's too cold, the water's moving too fast, and my stomach is growling too much" at which point we stopped and set up camp.

The reality is that we had every intention of pushing further, but the melting snow coming down the slopes from Mt. Ascension turned Martin "Creek" into a river that scared me more than the time a 225lb ripped Marine buddy with bullet tattoos practiced giving an I.V. with my puny arm as his test dummy. The result of our failure to cross the creek was that we ended up having a wonderful evening beside the river munching on fresh Alaskan halibut that had a slightly spicy taste to it. The spicy flavor came from an accidental discharge of a shot of bear spray, which ended up soaking/burning my clothes, hands, tongue, eyes, and pride. Word to the wise: Don't put bear spray in a cargo pocket where a clown (i.e. ME) swinging a handful of firewood can hit the spray button, sending his friends running off into the woods coughing. To all my Marine buddies..CS ain't got nothing on bear spray! I was still getting it in my eyes this afternoon despite vigorous scrubbing w/ soap and water.

Tomorrow morning I am leaving and spending a week living on ship. Many of you recall (or were a part of) my short-lived sailing career whilst deployed on the 26th and 24th Marine Expeditionary Units. Well it's round two, starting at 7:45 tomorrow. I am leaving with a crew of archaeologists/cultural resource folks from the park and heading deep into Kenai Fjords' coast, where few people ever travel due to the remote location. By day we'll survey old Alutiq settlements and mines from Alaska's gold rush era. By night, we will sit aboard "The Serac" and dine on meals cooked by the boat's deck hand/Chef. Not too shabby, and (unlike last time I was on ship) I won't have to worry about running into a grumpy 1st Sgt. w/ too much time, and too little brains/vocabulary on his hands:) I hope everyone is well.

Cheers,
Mike

Two is one, one is none

What A Week! That's all I can say about the week + that has passed since my last post. Last week was super busy as I (and three other folks) was tasked with taking a boat out to the remote Aialik Bay in order to get the coastal ranger station set up. Here's a brief run down of the three days I spent on that little mission:

Wed- Up and out super early to the docks in order to get the boats loaded with fuel, propane tanks, food, tents, and all the other supplies necessary for setting up the Aialik Bay Ranger Station. The ranger station is the part-time home of Josh and Sarah, our two coastal rangers, and it was our job to go shove snow, set up the shower/water system (more on that later) etc. The day was absolutely beautiful, and we were accompanied by a bunch of Dal's porpoise and a few humpbacks as we made our way out of Resurrection Bay in to the Gulf of Alaska...and then one of our motors failed. I mean epic fail, oil burning, smoking and whining fail. To be completely truthful most of the whining came from me, as I saw the realization of my lost at sea nightmares beginning to come to fruition. Luckily we has a second motor, so we began our trip back to the bay at a very leisurely pace. In the end the government (and you lovely tax payers) ended up paying me for a day on a boat in calm green water with whales and porpoise as my companions. Not too shabby!

Thurs-Friday- We pulled up to the beach marking the location of the Aialik Bay ranger station and I was absolutely spellbound. Across the bay were the Pederson and Aialik glaciers falling into the ocean. Behind the cabin the mountains rose sharply to the sky, and three waterfalls spilled down the cliffs onto beach. The setting was amazing, and I promise to post pictures of it ASAP. The two days spent setting up the cabin were pure delight. The cabin itself consisted of a one room building w/ a wood stove, a propane-fueled kitchen, and a sweet loft where we squeezed our cots and thermarests. Picture your dream cabin in the middle of nowhere..this was it. Our water came from a bunch of PVC piping that we ran up the hill to the large waterfall directly behind the cabin. I won't bore you with the details but we spent the evenings enjoying fine Alaskan IPA,gazing out at the two tidewater glaciers in the distance, and enjoying the endless sun (it doesn't get "dark" here until about 12 and even then it looks like twilight).

Now to the weekend! And what a memorial day weekend it was. I spent the better part of Friday hiking the 7.5 mile round trip to Ptarmigan Lake, seen in one of the photos above. The highlight of the weekend came on memorial day itself. On this day Chuck Lindsay, Mike T., Luke, and myself made the 7 hour round trip mission to the summit of Mt. Marathon..and then I died and went to heaven. At least that's what it felt like, as I spent the day kicking steps up STEEP snow, dodging small avalanche sloughs, and ultimately topping out on the peak after digging our way through the overhanging cornices that guarded the access to the summit. The peak itself is only ~ 4700' tall, but it rises to that height from sea level, and thus makes quite a long day. We basked in the sunlight (supposedly unusual for Seward..perhaps I've been lucky this past few weeks) on the summit for a while, then Chuck took off downhill on his telemark skis, pushing small avalanches off in front of him and clearing the path for us to glissade down the super steep snow slopes on our packs. What a great day.

That's the gist of the last 1.5 weeks. I'll try to do a better job of keeping this thing going in the near future, as it's hard to catch up on that much time without missing some of the finer details. Alaska is wonderful..but I must say, I miss NC. I miss Laura, I miss the best friends I've yet to make in this life, and I miss the warm embrace of the blue ridge mountains. That said, I will strive to make the most of my time here, and hope ya'll will continue to join me! I've posted a video, and links to more pictures below this post. Be well.

Cheers,
Mike

Pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=438798&id=572250523&l=82ad72363f

Video Below