Spring Please

Alicia mentioned that she wasn’t going to build her snow hill in the yard next year.  She's going to take a year off from that. 

“You know, like I took this year off from ice fishing...”  Right. 

Her snow hill is the giant mound of snow that sits next to the driveway where it gets thrown by the snowblower during the driveway clearing process.  She generally uses it as a sled hill throughout the course of the winter. 

Every year, I strive to have that mound of snow completely gone by May 1^st.  It’s always the last bit of snow in the yard.  This year, I’m pretty sure there’s no chance the yard will be snow-free by May. 

It’s very kind of her to offer not to build that hill next year.  But, since it’s her dad that actually dumps all the snow there, she may need to have a staff meeting with her snow crew.

In the meantime, we continue to tolerate the snow in the yard.  And the snow along the roadways, piled so high that you can't see around the berms well enough to detect oncoming traffic.  And the snow weighing down on the roof and slowly melting off through gigantic icicles. 

By this time every year, the snow has long since lost its charm.  The sun shines down from huge skies of pure blue. But it's just a tease.  Stephen begins daydreaming about hacking a tire-width trail in the ice the length of our driveway so he can get his Harley out of the garage.  Alicia attempts to wear sleeveless dresses to school only to be reminded that snowpants and boots are still a necessity for recess.  And they will be till May.

We are dreaming of spring.  Alicia commented the other day that she is hopeful of having at least a couple days this year to ride her new Christmas scooter before the snow returns.  Let's hope!

Adventures North

We recently ventured north to Fairbanks with our visiting cousins for a couple days.  Every time I go to Fairbanks, it occurs to me that I only visit that area in the winter time.  I haven’t quite figured out why this is, but it just seems to work out that way. 

Generally, there are specific things we like to see and do in and around Fairbanks.  And, honestly, they are things that are best done in the winter.  This doesn’t make the long, dark, cold drive up there any easier, but it is what it is…

In December, we go just past Fairbanks to North Pole to visit Santa.  But in March, we like to go past Fairbanks to the Chena Hot Springs to soak in the natural hot spring and gaze at the northern lights.  Fairbanks is home to the University of Alaska-Fairbanks Geophysical Institute.  Those folks study the aurora borealis seen largely within the surrounding area.  Some of the best aurora viewing in Alaska can typically be done from the Chena Hot Springs Road.  So, when our cousins expressed interest in seeing some good northern lights during their visit, we immediately booked our favorite DNR Public Use Cabin which sits on the banks of the Chena River. 

The cabin is rustic.  No running water, no electricity.  But there is a wood stove and a nearby outhouse.  All the comforts of home!  Well… almost.  We even purchased a new squishy toilet seat that we could hang on the wall behind the wood stove when not in use.  This alleviated the problem of getting frostbite of the buttocks while taking care of business at 10 below. 

We were pretty excited about the trip to Chena as we’d heard that the aurora forecast was the best it’s been in like the past 50 years!  What perfect timing!

We loaded up the van and headed north.  We were hoping to get out to the Chena Hot Springs Resort in time to sign up for their 10pm Snow Coach Aurora Tour.  You had to reserve spots in person by 7pm.  As we drove north from Fairbanks, we dropped off some gear at the cabin (about 30 miles out the Chena Hot Springs Road) and continued the next 25 miles to the end of the road where the resort is located.  We arrived at the resort just past 6:30 in a less exuberant mood.  The sky had been clouding up for a while.  No matter how fantastic the forecast is, you can’t see northern lights through clouds. 

We opted out of the Snow Coach Tour. 

We also opted out of the cabin stay that first night.  Due to new regulations, the DNR is no longer stocking the cabins with firewood.  And while we’d brought some with us, we didn’t think we had enough to stay warm through the night.  So, we opted instead to nurse our dashed aurora dreams at the Westmark Hotel in Fairbanks.  We booked two rooms and settled in for a night of running water followed by a free continental breakfast.  Warm toilet seat included at no extra charge.

To make matters worse, I kept reading status updates from my Anchorage area friends saying how fabulous the northern lights were showing!  Clear skies back at our house… The best aurora folks had ever seen… And we were missing it!  Talk about salt in a wound.

We pondered the idea of returning to Anchorage the following day in hopes of seeing some good lights the next night.  The forecast was still calling for cloudy skies in Fairbanks and clear skies in Anchorage.  We decided to sleep on it.

In the morning, things looked like they might be clouding up in Anchorage as well.  So, at the risk of spending our entire weekend confined in a minivan and still not seeing any aurora borealis, we decided to just forget about those elusive lights altogether and enjoy the other things Fairbanks and Chena have to offer.

We acquired more firewood and readied the cabin for a comfortable stay.  Then we headed back to the Chena Hot Springs Resort, this time for dinner and a soak.  As we drove to the resort, we caught a glimpse of blue peeking through the clouds.  Could it be clearing??  We decided not to make eye contact with the blue patch, lest we jinx it.  It must have worked because the skies continued to clear.

We had a pleasant dinner at the resort lodge.  Then, as we were preparing to head out to soak in the hot springs, we heard that the lights were already beginning to dance across the sky.  It was only around 8:30pm which is very early for aurora activity.  But it was perfect.

The idea of putting on a bathing suit and running barefoot down a stone path at 8 below zero to a hot spring lagoon seems ludicrous.  And, until you reach the piping hot waters which top 105 degrees, you can’t imagine who thought this was a good idea.  But as you melt into the soothing waters, surrounded by snow covered boulders, and you glance up to the skies to see streams of green lights waving far above, it doesn’t seem nearly so nutty after all.

We left the resort about an hour later and made our way back to the cabin where we hoped to photograph some of the lights in the sky.  During the half hour drive, the skies exploded with colors!  It was the most amazing display of northern lights any of us had ever seen.  Every car on the road screeched to a halt and just stared in wonder.  Truly amazing.  And it was heartening to know that our decision to remain in Fairbanks had been, without a doubt, the right one.

Those lights along the road were the best we saw all night.  We did get some photographs of more lights from the cabin using a tripod.  But they were never as colorful and active as we’d seen along the road.  And that was okay.  Not having to mess around with camera settings and tripod angles meant we could just sit and enjoy the lights in all their glory.  A perfect ending to our arctic adventure.

A Dog's Life

Yesterday, we said good-bye to our best furry friend.  Little Bit was 13 ½ years old.  Just before Christmas she had been diagnosed with canine lymphoma and we weren’t sure she’d make it through that holiday. 

All her life she had the misconception that she was a cat.  This proved helpful in the end.  I swear she went through the majority of her nine lives in the past 3 months.  She’d start waning and we’d try to prepare for the inevitable.  Then, after a serving of Alpo and a steroid pill, she’d bounce back and be nearly her old puppy self again for a while.  (We figured out that too much Alpo was not necessarily a good thing….  For more perspective on this, backtrack to the Luau entry from late January.)

This past weekend, Little Bit accompanied us north to Fairbanks and the Chena Hot Springs.  She was great on the long van ride up there.  The reason we’d brought her was that our usual dog-sitter neighbors recently moved away and Tess was going to be out-of-state.   She seemed happy to be coming along for the ride rather than being left at home anyway. 

We drove north on Thursday, planning to return home late on Saturday.  It was midday on Saturday, when Bit abruptly went downhill.  We came out of a restaurant where we’d gotten a quick lunch to find her immobile on one of the van seats.  She did not want to budge.  We budged her finally and made her as comfy as we could for the long drive back to our house in Chugiak. 

She didn’t improve or bounce back over the course of the following day.  We decided that the time had finally come for us to make that hardest decision faced by all good pet owners.  I truly believe she was ready.  And I was really glad we’d been able to share one last hurrah with our furry friend.

We awoke Monday morning to the sight of northern lights dancing wildly overhead.  Perhaps they were calling Bit home… 

I have a friend at work who has 2 dogs.  One is big and the other is small.  He believes his dogs look at each other and think they must look the same as that other dog.  Only the big one attempts to climb up into your lap.  The smaller one is sure he’s too big for such an act.  I think this is possibly why Bit thought she might be a cat, or at least small enough to be a lap dog.  She grew up with a feline roommate for most of her life.  (Of course, the cat, being a cat, wasn’t ever fooled into believing he was anything but a superior feline species.)  She, the dog, took endless cat naps, would attempt to commune with the cat, and even bathed herself like the cat.

Sleeping was her all-time favorite past-time.  She never met a sunbeam she didn’t like.  Another favorite spot was snuggled up in front of the woodstove. 

She also enjoyed a good walk.  That’s not to say she was good at taking walks.  She was actually a pretty awful walking dog.  She’d stop to pee every 3 feet.  To the point where you’d wonder where she was retaining her reservoir of pee.  She never learned to follow commands well.  She basically did her own thing.

When we lived in New York, her “own thing” often included trotting off to the ice cream caboose down the hill from our house.  Being built like a greyhound with a slim rear quadrant, people often mistook her for being starved.  She’d sucker people out of hotdogs and ice cream cones until we could track her down.  The caboose was always the first place we’d look when we discovered she’d run off.

Bit was born a deer hunting dog in South Carolina.  Being the runt of the litter, she was taken home from the hunting club and raised as a spoiled lap dog.  She did try hunting on occasion.  But once she heard the other dogs baying at the deer in the woods, she’d make her way back to Stephen’s truck, curl up and take a nap. 

What she lacked in hunting skills, she made up for in other good dog qualities.  For instance, she was a world-class dog treat scammer.  She’d rush out of the house in the morning to go to the bathroom and then return inside to receive her dog treat.  Then, when the next person woke up, she’d pretend she hadn’t been outside yet and attempt to repeat the process.  We eventually caught on.

While it saddens us greatly that she is gone.  She truly led an adventurous life.  Starting with her hunt club origins, she went from fishing with alligators in SC, to ice cream forays in NY,  on to exploring the Blue Ridge in VA.  From there, she rode cross country via minivan and a 3-day ferry ride to move to Alaska where she’d spend the latter half of her life rolling in the snow, meeting the local moose hoof population, and snoozing by the woodstove.  She’s had a dog’s life and she made the most of it.

We will miss her.

You've got your dogs, your reindeer, and your reindeer dogs...

Our weekend was full of fun, mostly of the 4-legged variety.
On Saturday, we picked up our Chicago cousins from the airport and headed downtown to catch the tail end of the Fur Rondy festival.  This included the 5^th Annual Running of the Reindeer which takes place along 4^th Avenue in downtown Anchorage.  Hordes of crazy, cabin-feverish Alaskans don wacky outfits for the chance of running in a throng up the avenue.  They are followed closely, and then passed completely, by a herd of reindeer who are surprisingly zippy given the right incentive.  In this case, a female reindeer in heat stationed at the far end of the running route…

We enjoyed a few more carnival rides and checked out the snow sculptures and the reindeer sausage dog stand before heading home for the night.

On Sunday, we headed north to Willow Lake to watch the “Iditarod Restart”.  They do the Official Start in Anchorage on Saturday morning.  But, that’s just for show and to provide a way for more people to see the teams without trekking all the way out to Willow.  We prefer the Willow event.  Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people flock to the venue of frozen Willow Lake.  A long starting chute has been fenced off running all the way across the lake.  The teams are lined up in bib number order and released to the trail at 2-minute intervals.  This year’s race has 66 teams on the trail.

We watched from alongside the chute fencing about halfway across the lake.  Our favorite mushers were scattered throughout the field of teams.  Some of our favorites include: Jeff King (#10), Aliy Zirkle (#14), Lance Mackey (#18), DeeDee Jonrowe (#17), Dallas & Mitch Seavey (#34/#35), and Martin Buser (#41).  It’s fun to get to know the mushers through their bios on the Iditarod website and then follow their progress along the race trail.  To see the Current Standings, go to: http://iditarod.com/race/current-standings/.

To see more of our Iditarod photos go here:  

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150623530108159.399915.523908158&type=1&l=753a636de4.

Later this week, we are heading up to Fairbanks and the Chena Hot Springs for an Alaskan style retreat with our cousins before they fly back to Chicago.  Nothing makes for better vacation memories than running barefoot down a stone path in your swimsuit when it’s -8 degrees outside.  Unless, perhaps, it’s getting up in the middle of the night to use the outhouse outside your rented cabin at those same temps….  Hopefully, the aurora borealis will be cooperative and light the path.