Visual artist Roberta happy to glimpse some sun at Potter Marsh outside Anchorage
There’s no way to capture Alaska in a few words.
So I’m going to post a photo album below showing the bit of Alaska my travel-companion Roberta Smith and I experienced: the Kenai Peninsula, a mountainous “tongue” that divides Cook Inlet, the deep seaway that makes Anchorage a port, from the Gulf of Alaska, the blue bowl of ocean separating the islands along the Northwest Passage from mainland Alaska.
The Kenai may be small compared to the rest of this vast state, but it boasts tremendous natural diversity: mountains, fjords, glaciers and ice sheets, beaches, marshes, spruce bogs, forests, and views of active volcanoes. We focused on Anchorage (the Native collection at the Anchorage Museum is worth a day in itself), Seward and Kenai Fjords National Park, and Homer and Katchemak Bay.
Here’s one story, not about wild nature so much as connections of the heart: On Richard’s first visit to Anchorage, he stumbled on a Native (Eskimo) shop that sold lacy hats, scarves, and other items knitted out from hand-harvested and hand-spun quviut (kee-vi-ute), musk ox underhair. “You’d love them,” he said. “But I don’t know which to buy you.” So he brought home a brochure.
The pieces were indeed gorgeous, but they were expensive enough to give even a fiber-lover like me pause. “I’ll come with you sometime and try them on,” I said.
Northern Lights beret from the “Tundra & Snow” collection at the Oomingmak Co-op Shop
He returned to Anchorage perhaps half a dozen times, but “sometime” never came: I never got to visit Alaska. Until my invitation to speak at TEDxHomer.
After arriving in Anchorage on a depressingly rainy Saturday night, Roberta and I were relieved to wake the next day to no rain (although low, gray skies). We explored the city, and eventually found our way to the Oomingmak Shop, where we tried on cloud-soft qiviut pieces. Still, I was reluctant to spent so much money. Until I tried on a “tundra beret” that combines qiviut and raw silk in a pattern called Northern Lights.
It felt and looked heavenly (no pun intended!). And I swore I could feel Richard beaming over my shoulder. I debated for about two minutes, and then handed over my charge card. (It only hurt a little.) I haven’t been sorry: the beret is indeed a treat to wear. Thank you, knitter Julia Bunder from the village of Ekwok!
(For more on this rare fiber, and the story of the Natives who collect, spin and knit it, read my friend Donna Druchunas‘ book, Arctic Lace.)
Once I had my glorious Qiviut hat and what felt like Richard’s benediction, I was ready to explore Alaska. After brunch with new friend Janine and her sweetie Scott in their fabulous eyrie with a view of rainy Cook Inlet, off we headed in the bright yellow VW Beetle Janine had rented for us, our “Alaska Bumblebee” car.
Humpback whaless circling and bubble-feeding in the fog off where the Kenai’s largest glacier meets the Gulf of Alaska
Our three days in Seward were moody and cold, the air relentlessly wet. Still, we saw humpback whales bubble-feeding, making a tight circle in the water to “gather” the plankton and small fish they eat–a new behavior for these huge whales; watched parakeet auklets scrabbling up steep sea-cliffs to their crevice nests, singing sweetly, along with puffins diving, orca pods spy-hopping, and glaciers calving. We even tasted glacier ice–fresh and crisp, despite its great age.
And we discovered fellow Colorado writer Craig Childs was in Seward as well–what are the chances?–so we had the treat of lunch with him at Seward’s vintage Showcase Lounge.
The sun came out for our drive down the Peninsula to Homer, where I gave my “Love Every Moment” talk as part of an inspiring TEDx event (I’ll post the link to the talk as soon as I have it). The next day Roberta and I went sea kayaking around Yukon Island, across the bay, in perfect weather. We paddled dappled blue swells, and watched sea otters bask up close and distant volcanoes puff with smoke.
Colorful cabins on Seldovia’s historic boardwalk.
On our last day, we took the ferry to the fishing village of Seldovia, which has an active Native Alaskan community. We saw more humpback whales, poked about in tidepools, and explored the native culture and the wooden wharf and piling architecture.
By the time we hit the road for the drive back to Anchorage yesterday, we felt quite blessed. One more gift awaited us: as we wound our way along the Kenai River in the stream of Sunday-afternoon, Anchorage-bound traffic, I spotted a furry head with rounded ears in the river amidst the anglers fishing the sockeye run: a brown (grizzly) bear! We stopped to watch her catch a fish in that glacier-melt-cold river, our hearts full.
I might never have explored Alaska, if not for the infectious joy Richard took from his trips to the state, plus the invitation from Kat, Adi, and the TEDx team. Thanks to you all–Native knitters, musk ox, whales, sea otters, fireweed, glaciers, parakeet auklets and brown bears too!
My brother and his family moved to Alaska. I think he has found a lot of healing there. My grandpa used to visit Kotzebu every few years. I hope to make it there someday myself :-}
Diana, I’ve only been to one small part of Alaska, but I can see why people fall in love and don’t want to leave. I don’t know if I’d be able to manage the darkness and long winters, but for some, that’s not an issue. Where does your brother live? I hope you do get there someday. You’ll be enchanted, I think.
He lives in Palmer, not too far from Anchorage. He and his wife work for the school and have all summer to explore the state with their daughter. They are having a wonderful time!
Diana, I bet they are having a wonderful time, and I’m glad that he and his wife both work for the schools so they can have summers off. That’s the time you’d want off…. I’m glad it’s working for them.
SO glad you got the qiviut-and-silk hat. You will love it. And that you got to the Anchorage Museum, and out of Anchorage as well. I have loved visiting Alaska, and have been fortunate enough to do so several times. What a great story about the brown bear. I rented a bike in Anchorage and had to share the city trail with moose (carefully).
Deb, We thought about renting bikes to explore Anchorage, but it was rainy and we were anxious to see some of the rest of the state, so we didn’t spend long. (Long enough to do the things that mattered most though, as you saw!) I’m glad you’ve had time to get to know some of Alaska as well. The state is so vast and so richly diverse that it expands our sense of what’s possible, I think.
Your Quiviut hat sounds absolutely luscious. The richness of Alaska is almost beyond description, but thank you for succeeding in bringing all of us to it through your words. There was a time when I thought I could never leave so a grand place on the planet. Nice to “come home” through your photos and descriptions.
Bobbe, You’re welcome. I’m glad the coming home through this post felt good. I can’t imagine living through the dark winters, but everyone has a differing tolerance, I think. I’m too much of a desert rat!
Soooo jealous! My last trip to Anchorage a friend and I kayaked Prince William Sound for 4 days and 200 photos. I wish they were digital, but alas that was in ’94.
Bill, Only 200 photos in four days of kayaking? You must have been paddling hard.
Four days of paddling in Prince William Sound would probably explode my mind. Did you leave from Whittier or Seward? BTW, you could always scan your photos; they’d last longer that way.
Love the hat! And the bear!!! I missed a chance to go to Alaska last year, but won’t if it comes around again.
Lynda, I hope your chance to go to Alaska does come around again, and you love every moment of it!
A visit to Alaska would be amazing. Breathtaking photo journal and words Susan. I smiled and chuckled over the playful otter and bear, my favorites! Love the picture of you with camera wearing your new qiviut hat. I’ve often felt that certain things in life money has no place (much as we still have to worry about such things) so the hat was meant to be. Seems sort of like a ‘feather in your cap’, referring to your successful talk and adventure, and honoring Richard with the hat. Perfect.
Whoops fixing a typo-came up 2x. If I had a pencil I could just erase it…
Robin, You’re right about the hat and about money. Though with the latter, I have financial obligations that mean I have to be careful with my spending, and the trip to Alaska was hard on that. But worth it, I think. I have multiple connections to qiviut and to that hat, including to Deb Robson, who commented above, who is the publisher of the book Arctic Lace, and a co-author of The Fleece & Fiber Sourcebook, another reason I know about and am enchanted by qiviut. Richard’s spirit is smiling about the whole thing, I’m sure….
P.S. I deleted the “spare” comment.
Thanks for the delete button.. I still have ‘old school’ in me.
The money thing is hard. I’m thinking of this as we prepare to move next month, soon after my trip to CO arrives. Like you, I believe it’s meant to be. Your hat with all the meaningful connections reminds me a little of the Hoopa basket-hat. Going with the flow of life…
I hope your move goes well, and that the residency gives you what you need to dive back into your art. I think opportunities abound in life; our work is to recognize and take advantage of them in the positive sense. Doing good to comes from a healthy heart and spirit, and an intention to leave the world a better place than you found it.
It’s seeming to me, and I hope ’tis true, that this “working vacation,” was moreso vacation than working. Is there more “open,” more “space,” than in Alaska? I’ve feared you’ve had to keep so much inside lately; so (again) I’m hoping there was finally enough outside to receive your untethering and releasing. Finally; a chance to explore and be refurbished. A fuller chance to PLAY, as per your TEDxHomer presentation—actually what the entire gathering you were invited to was all about. I thought you went to Alaska for the presentation. How glad to hear that the presentation was an excuse for addressing other matters of import. There’s surely some sorta joke about you “capping it off,” at the Oomingmak Co-op, but since I’m not Norwegian, I can’t be sure.
Home: It’s a place that makes us, at least as much as a place we make.
The reason to go to Alaska was the TEDx talk, Eduardo. It’s a very expensive place to travel, and without that invitation and the help with travel expenses from TEDx and from my brother and sister-in-law, who used their frequent flyer miles to buy my Anchorage ticket, I could never have found the money. As it is, it’s a huge stretch (TED talks don’t pay), but I was determined to make the most of it. As for being inside versus outside, I loved the time in Alaska, but it wore me out. Being solitary and at home when I can is my choice. I have a lot to deal with and a lot to process, and my quiet house and yard are the best place for that. “Capping it off” came at the beginning of the trip, but you still get Norwegian points for the joke!
Susan, I always appreciate your sharing your experiences, big and small, with us through your blog here. What a wonderful place you’ve made the small part of Alaska where you traveled as you typed your words and snapped the photos along the way. I should go there!
Alice
Alice, You’d love the Kenai Peninsula. It’s relatively easy to get around, and seeing both sides of the Peninsula gives you a real sense of this rich part of Alaska. Visiting Seward and the wilder east side, where you can take boat trips exploring the incredible fjords of Kenai Fjords National Park (this is the one I took, and I highly recommend both the company for their sensitivity to wildlife and ecological impacts and for the tour itinerary: http://www.kenaifjords.com/kenai-nwfjord.html) gives you the wildlife and glaciers. Homer and the more gentle country on the west side give you volcanoes (active ones!) and glaciers you can walk to, plus the culture of the Natives and the Russian fur-traders. Both places are just wonderful to explore. And neither is a really long drive from Anchorage (you can even take the train to Seward). I hope you do go….
You cute bug! I love that pic of you in your new hat! Alaska sounds grand and is definitely on my “gonna go there” list. I could not find my way to the link, will you post a link where I can hear it now? Glad you are snuggled into home and relaxing into some luscious solitude.
Jude, Your “cute bug” comment gave me a chuckle. My mom used to call me “B-bug” (I was a small kid, and I think that’s short for Baby Bug!), so thanks for the memory. I will post the link to the talk as soon as the video is up on the TEDx site. Don’t know how long that will take, but I hope it’ll be available sometime in the next week. I’m loving being home, even though all of a sudden I’m slammed with freelance writing work. Huh. Nothing for months and months and months, and then suddenly deadlines sprout like fruiting mushrooms….
Wonderful to hear of your trip to Alaska. I have been a resident for 30+ years, and have many more explorations still yet to discover. I’ve followed you for quite some time and enjoy your writing, fellow Story Circle member!
Monica, Thanks for checking in. Alaska is to vast, I can imagine you could live there for a whole lifetime and not see it all. But what a wonderful state you have! I’m inspired after just seeing a bit of it. And here’s a question for you on Story Circle Network: What can SCN do for you that it’s not doing now? (I’m on the board and curious about what members are looking for from the organization.) It’s good to “hear” from you on this blog!
I see you put “Native knitters” in the same category as musk ox, whales, sea otters, fireweed, glaciers, parakeet auklets and brown bears. A slip of fingers or intentional sorting of people?
ET, I was just listing all the gifts I found in the state, not trying to categorize anyone or any other species. Just the grace notes, and a thanks to all. Perhaps that seems odd, but not to me!