Alaska -- Leaving Glacier Bay

Back to the travel journal from Alaska.

On day 6, as we left Glacier Bay, we were treated to views of wonderful wildlife -- or should I say more wildlife -- we had been watching it all week.

At the mouth of Glacier Bay at the time we were there, there were lots of humpback wales. You can spot them when they blow. As they dive, they blow air out of their "blowhole." It's a marker that makes them visible from the ship. If you watch the plume of water, the next thing to be visible will be the back of the whale and then the tale as it comes above the water line. They often travel in groups, so once you see one, you may see others. The process and the whales are hard to photograph.

The area is the home of many bald eagles. They are beautiful flyers, swooping along. I never got tired of taking their pictures. Gorgeous birds.

We saw -- and I don't remember their names -- birds that run across the water. Very interesting.

Sometimes the naturalist would tell us we were passing a group of dolphins -- never saw them when he said to look. Early one morning, I did see one. It was beautiful, leaping out of the water and curving back in. I saw it while I was on the phone, no camera. I just gawked at it. I'm not sure Steve believed I even saw it.

As we left the bay, we cruised up the coast a little, and then into the open sea, headed for College Fjord. As we pulled away from the shore, the mountains that give birth to the glaciers -- Fairview Mountains -- were visible. The weather was perfect for us to see them.

Glacier Bay National Park

On the sixth day of the cruise (Remember the cruise? I still am working on the travelog for it) we cruised through Glacier Bay National Park. For me, this is Alaska! It was absolutely beautiful. This is a very picture heavy post, and believe me, there are SO MANY that I'm not including here; it was hard to choose just a few.

Glacier Bay, in 1740, was a glacier, not a bay. A native American tribe even lived at the mouth of the "not-a-bay." When Vancouver came to the area in 1794, the entire bay was frozen over. Since that time, which was at the end of a "Little Ice Age," the glaciers have been retreating, leaving behind this gorgeous body of water, full of ice bergs and surrounded by mountains and tidewater glaciers.

Tidewater glaciers have their face in water, so one of the actions of the glacier is to calve -- drop parts of itself into the water as the integrity of the glacier is broken down at its face. Remember, glaciers are actually not stationary, but move -- either advancing or retreating. That movement forms the geological structures left behind. In fact, glaciers are noisy -- they pop and crack all the time.

The glaciers of Glacier Bay National Park actually have their beginnings in the Fairweather Mountains. As snow piles up, never melting, it is compacted. Glaciers, flowing down the mountains, are a wonderful blue color, as is the ice they "calve."

We saw several of them in the Park, and became good at spotting them later. Glaciers have a distinctive look. The first glacier in these images, near the top of the post, is Lamplugh Glacier. The next one is Muir Glacier (named after the naturalist, who visited the area). This glacier has retreated so much that it is no longer actually a tidewater glacier; it's face in on land. The glaciers dig into the rock so much that it can pile up at the face.

The third glacier you see in the images Margarie Glacier. It calves very frequently. We spent 1/2 an hour or so "parked" at its foot, watching for it to calve. It did while we were there. Unfortunately, I was changing camera lenses at the time, and missed taking its picture. Steve got a little video of it. It is a magnificent sight!

We were in the bay on a beautiful day! The weather was perfect. Blue skies, no clouds. In fact, as we left the bay later in the day, the naturalist pointed out Mount Fairweather (the world's highest coastal mountain) telling us that he had never actually seen it before -- it is always clouded over. We spent the entire morning on the deck rail, watching the scenery go by, as the Park Naturalist (who we picked up at the mouth of the bay) tell us about what we were seeing. It was COLD and windy -- I wore a t-shirt under a sweatshirt under a jacket under a blanket. If you know me, you know it was COLD. It was totally worth it, though. It was some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen.

Next time, I'll talk about the wildlife we saw that day, but for now, the last image is of a bald eagle, hanging out on an iceberg.

White Pass Railroad

More about Alaska. Eventually, I write enough posts to complete the series.

On our Fourth Day, we rode the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad to Canada -- just barely to Canada.

When the Gold Rush came to the Yukon, miners would leave Skagway and have to make their way to the Yukon up the mountains. It was dangerous and terrible, but it was thought to be impossible to build a railroad. But it was built.

It climbs from sea level in Scagway up 3000 feet in 20 miles, with grades of 3.9% and 16 degree turns. It includes 2 tunnels and many bridges. The railroad itself is narrow gauge, demanded by the terrain.

It now operates as a tourist attraction. We road from Scagway to the boarder of Canada and back again -- a small portion of its 110 miles. It hangs on the cliffs and goes from the town, which was hot that day, up to the snow covered peaks of the Coastal Mountains.

Flower

From Green Angel Gardens, Juneau, Alaska

Skagway

The fifth day of our cruise, we stopped in Skagway. Skagway feels a lot like what I think a town in the Old West of the US would have been like. The sidewalks are wood, the fronts of the buildings look the clapboard buildings in Westerns. To me, it feels different than the other two Alaskan towns we visited.

The original name of Skagway was Skagua, which means Windy Place in Tlingit. It was the Gateway to the Yukon gold rush.

The population of Skagway (in 2008) was 892. There were at least 2 cruise ships a the dock when we were there, bringing almost 6000 people to town.

I found a yarn shop (!) in Skagway. Yippee. (Yarn shopping described on my other blog).

People have often asked us what the weather was like in Alaska. It was mainly beautiful -- sometimes cold, sometimes hot. When we were shopping in Skagway, it was HOT.

From Skagway, we took a ride on the White Pass Railroad -- I'll tell you about that next time.

Day 4 -- Juneau

On the fourth day of the cruise, we stopped in Juneau. Juneau is the capital of Alaska. Everyone in Juneau came on a boat or a plane, or was born there. It is the only state capital in our country that cannot be reached by car. As our bus driver told us, "Everyone has a car, but the roads all end outside of town."

We toured Juneau on a bus, starting at the State Museum. It was an interesting place, with displays concerning Alaska's animal population, history and culture. We weren't there long, but we liked it. Right outside of the museum (which is in downtown Juneau) was a beautiful mountain with a waterfall.

From the museum, we drove to Green Angel Garden. This garden was designed and is maintained by a couple who lives nearby and comes to great the tour bus, then serve tea and snacks. The garden itself showcases local Alaskan flowers and other plant life. Peaceful and quiet.

Our next stop was Mendenhall Glacier. Gorgeous. I was distracted by the arctic terns. These birds nest at the foot of the glacier. Once their young are a few weeks old, they start their migration to Antarctic. Imagine -- breeding in Alaska and then flying to the continent centered on the South Pole to live.

The water at the foot of the glacier is full of chunks of ice that have broken off the glacier itself. Since the salmon weren't yet back from the ocean, there weren't any bears for us to see. We did see a beaver's dam. The visitors' center was nice as was the set up for walking out to see the glacier. I imagine Mendenhall was my favorite part of Juneau.

On the way back to the ship, we stopped at Macaulay Salmon Hatchery. This facility imprints their water on young salmon and then releases them into the river, where they make their way to the Pacific Ocean, living there for 7 years. When nature calls, they return to the hatchery.

After the tour, we returned to the ship, shed jackets and gear and went to lunch in town, at the Twisted Fish (good food). We then rode the Mt. Roberts Tram up to the top of the mountain. We had an all-day ticket, but once up and then down again, we decided once was enough. We went shopping, then returned to the ship for an hour or two of doing nothing but sitting in deck chairs -- Steve in the sun and me in the shade.

Great day.

Day 3 -- Misty Fjord

Our first excursion away from the cruise ship was to Misty Fjord. We left Ketchikan on a "high speed catamaran" which I'll call a boat. It was a very nice boat -- two levels, with inside and outside viewing areas. Misty Fjord National Monument can only be accessed via sea plane or boat. It might be one of the most beautiful parts of our cruise -- if not, it ranks right up there.

It is located (as is much of Southeast Alaska) in the Tongass National Forest -- the largest Temperate rainforest in the world. As we cruised through the landscape, we saw breathtaking beauty. I've included a few pictures for you, but, sadly, I had my camera set on a setting that opened the shutter too small, so it stayed open too long, and about half of my pictures are blurry. I can't show you the puffins we saw or most of my images of New Eddystone Rock -- a 237 foot tall column of basalt that is the reminents of a volcanic vent. (Someday maybe I'll write a post about the irony of calling it "New" when it's 5 million years old).

We saw places in Misty Fjord that were created by glaciers. Think of a large punchbowl with high cliff sides. As we cruised, cliffs rose high above the water, with waterfalls and beautiful plant life.

We also saw eagles nest and bald eagles -- the first time I had ever seen one in the wild. They are majestic.

The Fjord was once the home of an group of Native Americans who left pictographs on the walls of the cliffs. The narrator pointed one out as we cruised over to the cliff to see it. It was very much overshadowed by the bald eagle perched above it.

Alaska Sunset (10pm or later)

Alaskan Shore

Ketchikan

On the third day of our cruise, we stopped at Ketchikan, Alaska. If you were to look at a map, you would see that this town is in the panhandle of Alaska that boarders Canada. It is called the "First City," because it is the first city that one comes across in the state. It is 500 miles north of Seattle.


In the past, the town has been supported by fishing (Salmon Capital) and lumber. Tourism is a big part of the economy now. This town of not quite 8000 people hosts large cruise ships like the one we were one every day.

We didn't get to spend much time in the city. We explored Misty Fjord from Ketchikan (a great excursion that I'll cover in another post). We didn't get back to town until around noon, and we had to be back on the ship before 2pm, so we just walked around downtown for a little while.

The town is nestled between the waterway and mountains. In some ways, it reminds me of West Virginia (steeper mountains) with its wooden buildings and the town built on the side of the hill.

The area was once home to Tlingit Indians. Tlingit Indians are divided into two lineages -- the Raven and the Eagle. Our tour guide for our Misty Fjord trip talked about this. Her sister had married an Tlingit Indian in the area; our tour guide came to Ketchikan in the summers to work while she is college. Part of the culture of this type of Native American is totem poles. We didn't see any, but they are in various places around town.

The light pole to the right was interesting. Those aren't flags. I couldn't tell if they were actually stained glass or not (I imagine not), but they looked like it and were a beautiful addition to the town.

There was lots we didn't get to see; I imagine more time would have allowed us to explore more than the surface of this town.

Reflection

Image: Reflections in Misty Fjord.

Day 2 -- At Sea -- Grayness

The first full day of the Alaskan cruise was spent at sea. I hadn't yet adjusted to the time change, so I was up pretty early (and it was already daylight).

I sat on the balcony of our stateroom, which was on the back of the ship, and read my Disciple lesson for the week. It was, to say the least, peaceful.

As we cruised, I noticed how monochrome everything was. I played with the camera, seeing if I could get good, interesting images without much color. The skills required to find beauty in something I wouldn't normally think was beautiful (I like color) are the same skills necessary to find God, sometimes:

• I had to pay attention. Even if monochrome can be boring, it can be beautiful if you just watch. In order to find God in the ordinary (and he is there!) you have to pay attention. You have to set aside your pre-judgment, and have an open mind to the possibility of something you do not expect.
• Light can change anything. Photography is recording of light -- photographs change when you use the light to your advantage. God is light. He can change anything, and seeking him out is to have the willingness to believe that his light is transformational.
• Finding beauty in something that is not obviously beautiful requires patience. Beauty may not be readily obvious. Breathe. Wait. Watch. Wait for God in his own time.
  
• Diligence isn't the same as patience. Stubbornness. See the image of the lighthouse? Notice that the light is shining? Know how many pictures I had to take to get one with the light burning? Many. I was stubborn, and wouldn't stop until I got the picture. Sometimes, I think stubborn faith is important in order to find God.

God is there. Watch. Have Faith. Wait. Persevere.

Day 1 -- Vancouver

Over the next few weeks, I'll share some images and thoughts from our trip to Alaska. I'll try not to make it too much of a travel log, but then again...it's my blog, and I'll log if I wanna. (Click on any image to make it larger.)

Day 1 was Vancouver. We arrived in town about 2pm after flying from Charleston to Washington, DC, to Denver and then to Vancouver. We rode a bus from the airport to the dock with a talkative bus driver who told us about the city.

There are two ethnic areas of the town -- China Town and India Town. There were still several buildings that one might recognize from the Olympics. They had removed the temporary roof from the building where the opening and closing ceremonies were held and were currently installing the permanent roof (not done in time for the event). The dorms where the athletes lived were to become low income housing. I thought that was a cool idea

The original part of the city was called Gastown (named after Gassy Jack Deighton -- yes, really). The city used to be heated by a steam heat system, which was also harnessed to power a Steam clock -- very interesting.We boarded the ship at the dock. Seven large sails are the highlight of the area -- once for each province of Canada (I think). Victoria, the capitol of the Province, is located on a an island near Vancouver.

The bridge over the bay as we cruised away was designed by the same man who designed Golden Gate Bridge.

Light

In Disciple last night, we talked about Revelation.

I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. (Revelation 21:22-25)

This picture was taken standing on our balcony of our ship -- at 9:53 PM. PM -- as in night time. On the same day, the sun came up at 4:15AM. Night-time was very short.

What would it mean for there to be no night?

• For me, problems are bigger at night. I'll wake up and worry when it's dark. Once morning comes, the problem seems much more managable. Worries are always smaller in the daylight.
• If I'm up at night, I'm usually by myself. Night can be a lonely time. (I don't mind the quiet at night; I can see, thought, how it could be lonely.
• Night -- darkness -- can be frightening. If I'm home and Steve is on the road, I usually keep the television on during the night. The sound covers all the strange, frightening noises that I want to ignore (and don't hear if he is here).
• We might not be able to see at night. We can lose our way, not know our direction.

God's presence doesn't mean that it is daylight. He is the light.

Image: Taken from the back of the ship (our stateroom was at the back) at 9:53AM on Wednesday. We had left Skagway and were on our way to Glacier Bay.

Life in Christ

We flew home yesterday and today from Anchorage. As we flew in to land at Seattle, an analogy to flying came to mind.

It was about 9:00pm, Seattle time. Thirty eight thousand feet in the sky, the sun was just setting, and the light was reflected on the clouds. Beautiful.

Flying is something I can't do on my own. I can't flap my arms and take off into the sky. It requires the pilot, the plane and the air for lift. I have to give up control and just ride.

We dropped into the clouds as we started our approach into Seattle. The white cloud layer surrounded the airplane -- I couldn't see anything. I had no sense of distance, direction or obstacle. I just trusted the pilot, that he knew where he was going; the plane, that it would hold together; and the wind, that it wouldn't let us fall.

We came out of the upper layer of clouds, and I found that we were between cloud layers. I couldn't have predicted the wonder of being sandwiched between the upper white layer and the lower fluffy clouds. I still couldn't see the ground, but this place was great. I could have stayed here a while, just enjoying the view, but I wasn't in control of the situation.

We continued to drop in altitude through another layer of clouds. Finally, Seattle came into view. It was the best yet -- Seattle at night, perfectly clear, every building lighted for night. The Space Needle, the Downtown, the water -- it was unbelievable.

Our life in faith requires us to acknowledge the control of God. We rely on him, his son and his spirit to enable us to do what we could never do alone. When we do, we may not be able to see where we are going; we just have to trust. We come to a place of beauty and abundant life, lighted by God's grace.

Image: The mountains outside of Anchorage from the air as we flew over them. If you look closely, you might be able to see a glacier.

Alaska

Alaska is where
The weather might be hot one moment and cold the next.
Layers are important.
Skies have been blue, ocean has been jade.
Whales swim, catching dinner, while blowing water into the air,
A signal of their presence, before diving down for more buffet,
Tail flashing.
The sun rises at 4:15am , too early for humans
And sets at 9:55; daylight at very strange hours.
There is barely a night.

Alaska is where
Glaciers calve, and everyone yells “Oh!”
I think our joy in the sight is a combination of wonder
At the falling of ice from such a height,
And the relief of watching a wall of ice do nothing for 20 minutes.
Seals “drop” pups
(ask the seal – I bet she would be offended by the concept of dropping).
Mother and Father Eagle both incubate the eggs in the nest
And provide for dinner.
Ice flows
In chunks toward the ocean
And down a mountain, imperceptibly creeping toward the water,
Or up a mountain in retreat.

Alaska is where
Mining towns look like West Virginia
With clapboard homes and small town histories,
Rolling hills,
Evergreen instead of maple,
But still a blanket of solid green.
Whitewater rushes in a river,
And creeks are everywhere.
Robins search for worms.
The world is different than home.
There are no snakes, no poison ivy or oak,
Mountains, jagged and snow covered, stab into the sky.
Bald eagles fly instead of cardinals.
Arctic terns, caring for young, dance around a glacier,
Before flying around the world to the South Pole.
You can only reach the capital city by boat, plane or conception.

Alaska is where
The population of a town swells from 1000
To 11,000, when four cruise ships dock.
Tourism has changed part of the landscape,
Bringing jewelry stores.
With diamonds more numerous than the natives.
And tanzanite, gold nuggets and fake totem poles.
Shore excursions promise salmon bakes, lumberjack shows and whale sightings.
A train was built 100 years ago to take gold hunters
Into the Yukon,
Past Dead Horse Gulch,
Echoing with the sound of 3000 pack animals’ cry.
The train hangs on the mountain side,
Rumbles across gorges on wooden bridges,
Climbing a mountain to White Pass,
On a narrow gauge track.
It once carried supplies for the construction of a road
In World War II,
Protecting the state from Japanese bombs,
But now it carries tourists to see
Breathtaking views.
Everything changes with time.


Image: Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau