Floridana Alaskiana v.2

one year ago

University of Alaska Anchorage Main Campus, Alaska.
30 June 2008.
Nikon D70s.

. . . we left Florida, and then we lived in Alaska.

It's amazing that we left Florida over a year ago.  Technically, our one year anniversary of living in Alaska will by on July 31st.  It's been an amazing, if not slightly disorienting, first year in Alaska.

Winter, truth be told, wasn't that bad at all. Despite my Floridian-Guppie ways, and my fond love of sandals and equal hatred of socks, I was able to not only endure winter's bite, but to also actually enjoy the frozen world around me.

Interestingly, the most difficult month for me this past year was June. The month that just ended.

My internal bioclock was screaming for heat, humidity and sunshine. I was so ready for summer.  But most of June was cool, gray and overcast. Weeks went by without a drop of sunlight, despite the insanely long "daylight" hours.  I grew enormously uncomfortable and depressed by the lack of sunlight.

And then?  Then July hit:  and the sun came out.  It came out in-force.  As if nature waved a magic wand, it was as though June never existed. I was immediately refreshed, revitalized, and reanimated. We headed out to Eagle River to hike around on Tuesday -- and looking around the valley, at all the flowers, plants, and forms of water, I again found myself feeling deeply grateful to be in Alaska.  The strength and beauty of Tuesday more than justified the general sense of misery I felt in June.

In an odd way, that's what Alaska's been like for me, this Guppie from Florida.  Amazing moments of such beauty and magnificence that vastly outweigh any sense of discomfort and anxiety.

When the sun shines in Alaska, it shines in a way that I simply can't describe.  It's awe-inspiring.

-----

So here we are, nearly one year later, and we still have no regrets. Though the transition hasn't been the easiest to adapt through, we find ourselves deeply happy and content to be here in southcentral Alaska. There's still an entire world to explore in Alaska and we find ourselves giddy at the prospects that still lie before us, over the future's horizon.

I'll never lose my inner-Floridian, but I now feel very much Alaskan. Many Alaskans, by the way, don't consider "Anchorage" a part of Alaska... but I'm ignoring that.

The title of this blog, Floridana Alaskiana, actually makes sense to me now.

Janson.

tazlina glacier

Tazlina Glacier.
Viewed from the Glenn Highway, Alaska.
31 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 31 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

At last, we came to our last day of the move from Florida to Alaska.  Working north from Copper Center, we turned west on the Glenn Highway, which would ultimately deliver us to our new home in Anchorage, Alaska. 

Along the way, we glanced south of the highway and spotted the vast and epic Tazlina Glacier creeping north from the Chugach Mountains. It was a beautiful sight. "We live here?" was our general response.  "This is our regional neighborhood?"  It was hard to believe that we would live somewhere so close to something like Tazlina Glacier...

Janson.

kuskulana bridge

Kuskulana Bridge.
Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska.
30 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 30 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

We didn't have too much time, but an extended benefit of Alaska in late July is the incredible amount of daylight you get.  It's unbelievable to a Floridian sun-worshipper. The sun only dips under the horizon for a few short hours... Thus, you can head out and look around with daylight well into "the night".

Hitting the road with my mother, we headed down to drive a bit of McCarthy Road and to scope out Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. The park is the nation's largest, in total land size.  It's massive.  And like most of the state of Alaska, it's brutally and magnificently wild.  You can't get to most of the regions by automobile. Alaska is not kind to roads -- and roads don't seem to put up much of a fight against Alaska. Still, here was McCarthy Road -- a bumpy gravel road weaving and dodging the mountain rolls within sight of a plethora of glaciers blanketing the horizon.

We came to the old Kuskulana Bridge, traversing the Kuskulana River. Built in 1910 as a railroad bridge, this is one old ass bridge.  It's also tight -- only one lane.  The glacially-fed river flows 238 below the bridge and is a creamy foam color. I was deeply smitten by this area.  We had to turn around shortly after to get back to the lodge, but I saw enough to convince me that this is a place I MUST return to.  I'm greatly looking forward to getting back to Wrangell-St. Elias, Kuskulana Bridge and the old McCarthy Road.

janson

copper river

Copper River.
Copper Center, Alaska.
30 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 30 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

We arrived in Copper Center, Alaska on day thirty of our drive from Florida to Alaska. Just north and west of the massive Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Copper Center is a tiny little town that seems to now directly serve and cater to the national park's tourist industry. You don't look too far to the southeast to see the mountains beckoning from a distance.

The Copper River itself was magnificent. It had that otherworldly blue/cream hue, a result of glacial waters, melted ice, and ground up rock. It's a color I'm very much used to now that I've been in Alaska for almost a year -- but on the 30th of July 2007?  It was as though I were living in a different planet.

The flowers in Alaska, by the way, are amazing. Even the most basic of weeds seem to flourish magnificent petals. To see Alaska come alive by wildflower design... Well, that's just something I hope you get to encounter at some point.  It's magnificent. From the dwarf fireweed to the purple iris, the land radiates color when the flowers are in bloom.

At this point, when these photographs were taken around 2:30 pm on July 30th, we were less than 24 hours from arriving at our new home.

Janson.

yukon and the open

Somewhere along the Alaska Highway.
The Yukon Territory.
29 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 29 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

Leaving Dyea and Skagway, Alaska, we actually had to cross back through British Columbia and then work our way back north through the Yukon Territory before arriving in Anchorage.  This last stretch of the Yukon was, to be honest, a bit dreary. The sky was brutally overcast and a deathly shade of gray.  The wind was bitter and sweeping. And all we wanted at this point, after leaving Florida nearly a month prior, was to get to Anchorage.

Still, we paused in the middle of an odd open vista in the Yukon. There was a large river far to the east and a sprawling bundle of mountains before us to the north. But to our immediate left and right, on the west and east sides of the road, the ground was open and wide. Odd little mounds rose from the flatness. It was an eery resonance in that stretch of the Yukon.

I would actually really like to get back to this part of the Yukon -- mainly out of curiosity. I'd love to learn more about this area.

Janson.

tyea and dyea

Tyea River.
Dyea, Alaska.
28 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 28 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

We spent a few nights at the Chilkoot Trail Outpost, a fantastic little lodge of bungalos next to the Tyea River in Dyea, Alaska.  Dyea itself isn't much of a town anymore. Literally it's a ghost town. The gold rush town was brutally wiped by a massive avalanche on April 3rd, 1898. Skagway, not far around the corner, remains a booming little port community -- but Dyea is now mainly composed of the Chilkoot Trail Outpost and the Chilkoot Trail head.

I found the Tyea River quite enchanting. Harbor seals frequent the waters, trolling up and down stream in search of food (and adventure, I like to think). We spotted several youngish bald eagles near the mudflats along the river bank.  But all in all, this was a region that was dominated by a soft silence. Walking down to the river at 9:30 p.m. on the 27th, I sat and watched the water softly slide by.  A few moments of calm at the end of a very long month of great excitement.

Janson.

landborder

Klondike Highway, near the B.C. & Alaska border.
Alaska.
27 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 27 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

And then we came to it: the Alaska border.  Twenty-seven days after we had left Florida on July 1st, we finally arrived at the Alaskan border.  We'd waited an awfully long time for this moment and now that we were there -- in both space and in time -- . . . well, it was simply amazing.  And beautiful. And moving. And on and on.

Finally, we made it to Alaska.  Not quite to Anchorage.  Not quite "home" . . . there would still be several days of the trip before us, but by the might of thunderous Zeus, we had made it to Alaska.

Janson.

borderland

Klondike Highway, near the B.C. & Alaska border.
British Columbia, Canada.
27 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 27 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

Cutting down on and over on the Klondike Highway, we re-entered British Columbia for a short jaunt over to the Alaska border. We wanted to spend a couple of days in the port-town of Skagway and the ghost town of Dyea (more on that later).

I have to say, the border region along the Klondike Highway was simply incredible. Part of me wanted us to dash as fast as we could to Alaska (we were sooo close!) -- but another part of me just wanted to park the car, get out and wander off into this bizarrely rich and fantastic landscape.

We did a little of both.

Janson.

 

teslin

Teslin.
The Yukon Territor, Canada.
27 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 27 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

Closer. Oh, yes.  We were getting closer to Alaska.

I woke up on the morning of the 27th and walked out to watch the sun rise over Teslin. We were in the Yukon Territory and would break through a sliver of British Columbia and reach Alaska later that afternoon.  We'd left Florida 27 days before and we were finally on the brink of exploring Alaska for the first time.

Granted, we'd have to re-enter Canada, backtrack through British Columbia, and head north through the Yukon before reaching the main bulk of Alaska (and ultimately, Anchorage) -- but today's would be the last sunrise before reaching Alaska.  It was a beautiful sunrise.

And a beautiful day would soon follow.

(This image is a still-shot from the video camera, hence the odd pixelation.)

Janson.

muncho lake

Muncho Lake Provincial Park.
British Columbia, Canada.
25 July 2007.
Nikon D70s.

Day 25 of our drive from Florida to Alaska during the summer of 2007.

After wandering north through Jasper National Park for a few days, we finally made our way over to Muncho Lake Provincial Park in British Columbia. Once again, I was taken aback by the distinct and powerful vistas Muncho Lake, like so many other places on our journey, had to offer.

Stone sheep, caribou, black bear and moose were all over this region. Clear water streams ran alongside the road. And Muncho Lake itself?  Absolutely beautiful.  Yet another place I'd like to go back to and spend a week or so exploring. 

Janson.