Thursday, April 2, 2009

Alaska, Day Five: Mush!

Some Alaskan hotels have an aurora wake-up service where they will knock on your door or call your room when the aurorae come out. Having requested this service at Chena Hot Springs Resort, I woke up at 4:30 this morning thinking, “Oh! Oh! Did I hear a knock?” To be sure, I suited up, grabbed my camera and tripod, and hiked over to the aurora viewing area. At one point, I thought I might have seen some green wisps in the sky, but on second thought decided that my eyes were playing tricks on me. At any rate, it wasn’t what I expected from all the photos and descriptions of the aurora. Back to bed!

After a few hours’ nap, I got up to soak in the hot springs one last time. On my way, I peeked at the thermometer stuck to the outside of the building, which held constant at its lowest possible reading, -20 ºF. That was poor planning on their part, no? It gets to -60 ºF and below out here. Regardless, the walk from the changing rooms to the lake was particularly icy, and when I say icy, I’m referring to when my hair became frosty and firm in a matter of seconds. Once I was in the water, I noticed that some little “ice feathers” had formed on the rocks overnight. Curious.

Morning at Chena Hot Springs


Ice Feathers

My drive from Chena to Fairbanks was filled with visions of sourdough pancakes and two eggs, over easy, with fresh cracked pepper and a dash of salt. Imagine my sadness when I pulled into the parking lot for the Sourdough Café to find that it had been destroyed in a fire a couple of weeks ago. I settled for some tasty pad thai from Lemongrass Thai Restaurant before meeting up with my dog mushing school instructor, John Hoegberg. After he took the dogs out of their pens (it was a bit like clowns coming out of a tiny car as one dog after another emerged from the back of the truck), we hitched them to the side of the truck in preparation for the ride. One dog, Spotty, was so excited he just kept barking and leaping around. He calmed right down, though, when you gave him a scratch behind the ears.

John and the Dogs

Dog mushing isn’t as hard as you think it would be, yet it is also harder than you think it would be. Basically, you stick your ice hook in the ground, tie a secondary rope to something stable, stretch out the gangline, harness the dogs, connect them to the gangline starting from the front and working your way back, stand on your brake, pull the rope loose, pull the ice hook loose, slowly ease off your brake and onto your drag, and then ease off the drag as you move to the runners. Although the dogs generally poop while running, some like to stop and squat, which can cause a crash, so be ready to step on your brake and secure your ice hook in the ground so you can untangle everybody. But be careful, because sometimes the team is so excited to get going that they could rip the ice hook out of the ground and take off without you, so be ready to grab the sled and jump aboard at any moment. Speaking of which, be careful of the side you get off of, because the ice hook may come around and grab you by the leg. “Gee” means go right and “Haw” means go left. Got it?

John started out by letting me ride in the basket while he mushed for a while, then had me take over the 10-dog team for the remainder of the 9-mile journey down the frozen Tanana River. We then split into two sleds, him with eight dogs and me with six, and headed out for the same route. I only biffed it once when I was going around a turn. Fortunately, my team was following his, and I was able to get back on the sled before the teams took off again. As the end of my solo trip grew closer, Apple, one of the new dogs, kept looking back at me as if to say, “Time to stop!” But she stayed on and Spotty did a great job as one of my lead dogs. And even though I smelled like dog at the end, I’m so glad I was able to take part in this unique adventure.

Leader of the Pack


My Team Is Ready To Go


On the Tanana


After helping John get the teams dismantled and everything put back into the truck, I drove up to Grand View Bed & Breakfast to settle in for my last night in Alaska. My lunch at Lemongrass was so spectacular that I decided to return for round two, which took the form of panang curry with chicken and a chaser of Hot Licks Alaskan Blueberry ice cream. On my way back up the driveway to Grand View, I got stuck in the driveway and had to ask the owners for help. Unfortunately, my stuck car got their truck stuck. It’s all part of the joys of Alaskan living, I suppose.


Grand View Bed & Breakfast


The Grand View from My Room

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Alaska, Day Four: Hot and Cold

I got up in the middle of the night to pee, and since I was lodging in the cabin out back, I had to get dressed and cross the yard to the main house to do so. On my way back, I stared up longingly at the sky, and I saw a single, sweeping white band of light across the sky, signifying either the aurora or a movie opening. In the end, I decided that it was a movie opening…it seemed too artificial and rhythmic.

The 7+ hour drive north from Talkeetna to Chena Hot Springs was lengthy and a bit white-knuckled given the snow and clouds that pervaded the scene. Toward the end of my journey, I stopped off in North Pole to see the world’s largest Santa Claus. I also attempted to gain entry into the nearby Santa Claus House, but…you guessed it…it was closed. I was, however, able to visit a Taco Bell situated in a strip mall…the first I’d seen of its kind. Fascinating.


Greetings from the World’s Largest Santa Claus


About an hour later, I rolled into Chena Hot Springs Resort, an isolated destination run on geothermal power. Although I think the term “resort” is a bit of a stretch, it’s pretty chill (pun intended).

The Entrance to Chena Hot Springs Resort


Rock Lake at Chena Hot Springs Resort


After checking in at the front desk, my first stop was the Aurora Ice Museum, the largest year-round ice structure in the world. One of the coolest (I’m on a roll here) components of the museum is a section with beds and an outhouse…all carved from ice, of course. For a pretty penny, guests can stay overnight in the museum, although I’m guessing it’s not nearly as great of an adventure as that enjoyed by Claudia and Jamie in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Ten points for whoever can pick up that cultural reference.






Dinner at the resort’s restaurant (a salmon burger with tomato and lettuce grown in the resort’s greenhouse) provided an excellent appetizer for the main course…Lost. I know I’m on vacation, but come on…this is the best season ever. Dessert consisted of a two-hour soak in Rock Lake. It was a very otherworldly experience, soaking in burning hot water (which can reach as high as 140 ºF) that smelled of sulphur while the stars shone above, interrupted only by a few multicolored spotlights illuminating the steam as it diffused into the frigid black night.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Alaska, Day Three: Peace and Quiet

I love sausage. I know it’s wrong. It’s made from a bunch of chopped up animal parts that I would never normally eat whole…stuff like hearts, livers, and ankle tendons and…ugh, who knows what else. But my oh my, when you chop it all up, throw in some seasoning, squeeze it into some sheep intestines, and fry it up, it becomes so, so tasty. And what could be tastier than enjoying some French toast and sausage while looking out the window at this gorgeous view:


The day began with a beautiful drive south of Anchorage to Girdwood, home to the Aleyska Resort. As I ambled along the Seward Highway, giant chunks of ice crawled slowly down Turnagain Arm, which ran parallel to the road. Snow-covered mountains placed themselves strategically along the path, causing it to twist and turn as I barreled down in my Kia Spectra luge. The magnificence was heightened by a blackened halibut sandwich and reindeer chili from the Silvertip Grill.



Heading north, I gassed up in Wasilla (yeah, that Wasilla) on my way to my final destination, Talkeetna, a tiny town along the Alaskan Railroad responsible for many flightseeing tours to Mt. McKinley. Try as I might to schedule a flightseeing tour, only one company would take me up, and only at a $500/hr rate. Why? Because it was not tourist season. If it were tourist season, I would have also been able to frequent the town’s many shops and historical buildings. As it was, I quickly made my way through the three open shops, one of which had a box of Iditarod trading cards on the counter. They seemed like a cool, unique, local phenomenon, so I bought one. When I checked myself into the Talkeetna Roadhouse, the innkeeper informed me that nobody in town would be open for breakfast. In response, I picked up a raspberry roll (like a cinnamon roll, but with raspberries instead) at the Roadhouse’s bakery and went for a walk.

One Of These Three Stores Is Open. Can You Guess Which One?


Talkeetna Roadhouse


Reportedly, the Talkeetna cemetery has a monument for those who have died in their attempt to climb Mt. McKinley, the highest point in North America. Sadly, I was thwarted in my smaller-scale attempt to visit said monument when the snow’s surface gave way and I became lodged waist-deep into the ground. Where are my snowshoes? I need to buy some snowshoes.

Down by the Talkeetna River, I became acutely aware that the sounds normally infused into my environment (trains grinding, horns honking, children screaming, people yammering on cell phones, wind gusting, bass from car stereos rattling my windows, etc.) had been tamed by the frigid temperatures. I couldn’t hear anything. Everything around me was perfectly still, perfectly silent. It was so peaceful, so spiritual.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Alaska, Day Two: “We’re Sorry, But Alaska Is Closed For The Winter”

Another 6:00am start to the day, but this time with better results. After a six-hour flight, I touched down, at last, in Anchorage. Unfortunately, my luggage did not. I stood in line at Northwest Baggage Services for nearly two hours, only to find out that because my luggage might be coming in on a flight later that day, I could not register a claim. Rather, I needed to wait around until the last scheduled flight, arriving at 7:00pm. Maybe everyone else’s delayed luggage could keep me company…




Not to be deterred from my Alaskan adventure, I picked up my rental car and headed into town to see the acclaimed Anchorage Museum of History and Art. Imagine my surprise when the front door was locked. I pressed the button to talk to the security guard, who informed me that the museum was closed for the next two months. “That’s okay,” I thought, “I’m hungry, and the tourist guidebooks I bought have several recommendations.” The first recommended restaurant, Marx Bros. Café, was located in the now closed museum, so I walked several blocks down the road to Sacks Café. Sadly, they stopped serving food approximately 30 minutes earlier. Okay. I walked further down the street to Snow City Café, but their kitchen had just closed. I had been in Anchorage for nearly four hours and had encountered nothing but…well, nothing. Having not eaten in over 12 hours, I tossed aside the guidebooks and partook of a substandard sandwich and soup combo at some anonymous restaurant.


Rejection at Snow City Café



As my raging headache subsided, I was once again filled with an obstinate optimism, determined to make this a good trip. I sauntered into the Alaskan Mint, where the staff were incredibly kind and talkative. This trend continued as I perused the 5th Avenue Mall, which smelled and felt exactly like good ol’ Valley Fair Mall in West Valley City, Utah. Part of me kept wanting to check my watch to see when my lunch break from B. Dalton Booksellers was over. Everyone I ran into was super nice, and once they found out I was on vacation, they had all sorts of suggestions for me. Now armed with the necessary cheap pair of sunglasses and a car stereo cord for my iPod, I was ready to go back to the airport and scavenge for my luggage.


The Cash Register at the Alaskan Mint


The day continued to improve when, at the suggestion of Krista, a friend/Sinai co-worker/soon-to-be fellow CHOC intern, I pulled into Moose’s Tooth Pub and Pizzeria, where I had the best pizza I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. Yes, even better than The Pie on The University of Utah campus. I ordered “Santa’s Little Helper,” which consisted of pepperoni, blackened chicken, steak, bacon, red bell peppers, cilantro, mozzarella, provolone, and marinara sauce. Exquisite. Joy to the gustatory world! Santa’s Little Helper delivered a tremendous gift to my palate.


A comfortable bed, fireplace, Jacuzzi bathtub, and the Food Network awaited me at Alaskan Frontier Gardens Bed & Breakfast just outside of town. At last, I was in Alaska, my luggage was in Alaska, and the adventure had begun. My Alaskan adventure.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Alaska, Day One: Why I Will Never, NEVER Fly Northwest Airlines Again

Northwest Airlines has always given me trouble. Delayed (or sometimes) missed flights, poor customer service, and lost baggage are just a few examples. But perhaps worst of all was their resistance to my redeeming a free flight voucher I obtained when I voluntarily gave up my seat on a flight in March 2008. I tried to redeem the voucher on multiple occasions, and each time was met with the line, “I’m sorry sir, but there are no available seats on that flight for purchase with your travel voucher.” Did I mention that the voucher was only valid for one year?

I’m not normally a vindictive, spiteful person. Yet I must admit that by the time February rolled around and my voucher had yet to be honored by Northwest, I became somewhat frustrated. In response, I decided to find out the most expensive location Northwest flies to and book a ticket there (i.e., I stuck it to “The Man”). Although it took several phone calls, a blundered ticket, an erroneous charge on my credit card, certified mail, and switching dates, I finally obtained my prize: a free roundtrip ticket to Alaska.

Given our rocky past, I should not have been surprised by my experience with Northwest Airlines today. For the first leg of travel, we sat on the ground for almost an hour-and-a-half while we de-iced, had an equipment malfunction, and de-iced again because the response to the malfunction took too long. Now when I say “equipment malfunction,” I’m referring to the pilot’s announcement that “…during de-icing, one of the workers noticed part of a gasket poking up out of the plane. We’re going to pull up to a maintenance area where they can trim it off, do some paperwork, and then we can get on our way.”

When I was a little boy, I, too, noticed some unauthorized poking out, only it was on top of my head and not on my plane (as I didn’t own a plane). Sadly, much to my dismay, cutting off the errant hairs did not make the problem go away; rather, I began to develop short, bristly hairs that stuck straight up and could not be tamed, even with liberal amounts of Dep Styling Gel. Apparently large, complex planes that carry hundreds of passengers high above the earth’s surface are more forgiving than a 7-year-old boy’s head, at least when it comes to trimming off offenders.

Due to our unplanned (yet strangely predictable) delay, I was somewhat anxious about catching my connecting flight from Minneapolis to Anchorage. But I needn’t have worried, for you see, Mt. Redoubt had once again erupted, causing the Anchorage airport to be shut down. The departure time for the flight kept getting pushed later and later into the day until all flights to Anchorage were cancelled. When I approached a Northwest staff member for assistance, I was told that I could either sleep on the floor or put myself up in a hotel until tomorrow morning. The staff member then returned to the conversation she was having and ignored the remainder of my questions.

In sum, day one of my Alaskan adventure was anything but. Most strangely, Alaska looks a lot like the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. Hmm.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Internship News: Part One

Matched.