Alaska

Fall moose in urban Anchorage
Taken in 2007
Taken in 2007.

During the six years I lived in Anchorage, moose were still a common sight on the multi-use trails, in many parks, and even in neighborhoods. I even saw a few wandering downtown, right outside my office window. Anchorage actually provided a haven for them, because hunters were not allowed to kill them in the city limits and there was likely less predation, as resident wolves were hunted and trapped with passionate intensity by so-called “trophy” shooters and bears preferred mostly to stay outside the city.

These four fall moose were in the yard next to my house, about 15 miles from the nearest true wilderness. They likely were the urban moose who spent time traveling around town, particularly during the fall (avoiding the hunt in the nearby Chugach State Park). Looks like we had one male and three females, but can’t tell about one of the juveniles.

Sometimes when I run in Seattle’s Discovery Park, I think I will see them, but then I realize it is my mind playing tricks on me, and I laugh how silly that thought is outside of Alaska. These photos fall into the “point and shoot” category with the handheld consumer-gade Canon I have used for years. (Click on each photograph to see a larger pictures on separate picture pages.)

Fall in the Chugach Mountains
Taken in 2006.
Taken in 2006.
Taken in 2006.

Let’s be clear. I will say that fall in Alaska is as good as it gets for autumn colors. I still cannot believe the colors of red blueberry bushes on the hillsides, birch trees firing up the forest canopy, and the orange and red underbrush. I took all of these pictures in Fort Richardson and Chugach State Park, both just outside of Anchorage. (Chugach State Park is more spectacular than most National Parks in this country by a country mile, if you ask me.) I do not miss the winter at this stage of my life, as of today, but I do miss the fall, all days of my life. See more of my photos of Alaska on my Alaska photo gallery. (Click on each photograph to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

The Raven and Eagle clans

 

Taken in Sitka, Alaska.
Taken in Sitka, Alaska.

Two traditionally carved canoes on display in Sitka, Alaska, show two major clans of Southeast Alaska and British Columbia, the Tlingit and Haida bands. According to the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska, tribal members people are born into either the raven or eagle clan line, established matrilineally through their mother’s family. The council’s web site notes that in Tlingit, Yeil is Raven and Ch’aak is Eagle (Wolf is sometimes used interchangeably with Eagle).

If you have ever been to Southeast Alaska, one can see why these two powerful animals are chosen. The raven is the crafty trickster, the one who helped bring man into the world according to legend. The sneaky and beautiful raven makes haunting, complex noises that echo mysteriously in the damp forests of the region and can create a feast with any food that comes its way (my favorite Alaskan animal). Greenlanders on the far side of the Arctic I met also spoke highly of the raven for being a food thief from other predators. The eagle is the great and proud hunter, with the most watchful gaze one can imagine. Seeing it catch a salmon is an unforgettable sight. But they can also be dumpster divers, going after fish scraps from fish processing plants in Alaska, sometimes with sad consequences.

Personally, I think the raven run circles around the eagle, as bird intellects go.

These photos were taken in 1999. Click on each photo to see a larger picture in a separate picture page

The foreign-flagged city on the seas heads to Alaska

 

The Bahamas’-flagged Norwegian Jewel sets sail for the pristine waters of Alaska in July 2014.

Alaska cruise ships operate in U.S. and Canadian waters, yet are exempt from U.S. labor laws and most corporate taxes by virtue of being incorporated and flagged in third countries and because of the Jones Act. This obscure maritime law allows cruise line firms to use foreign-built ships and foreign labor, not U.S. ships and U.S. workers, in U.S. waterways because they make a port of call in another country (Canada). These enormous ships’ crews hail from many countries, like Italy and the United Kingdom, and have lower-paid workers below the deck who come from developing nations such as the Philippines, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and India. These employees are not paid equivalent U.S. wages.

However, it is unlikely most of the passengers on these massive ships know who is even running the ship that passes through some of the world’s most beautiful waterways, in British Columba, Washington state, and Alaska. Most of those passengers are having a great time, eating buffets and gambling, shopping, and stopping at small towns like Ketchikan, Skagway, and Sitka. If you want read about how odd these floating feeding frenzies can be, read the late David Foster Wallace’s short story called Shipping Out. Wallace notes, “All of the Megalines offer the same basic product–not a service or a set of services but more like a feeling: a bland relaxation and stimulation, stressless indulgence and frantic tourism, that special mix of servility and condescension that’s market under configurations of the verb ‘to pamper.'”

They also make money for the towns where the dock and the cities that host the ships, like Seattle, so they have many supporters. The corporations that own these ships also fund very sophisticated  business advocacy teams that ensure regulations that control their discharges (see EPA fact sheet) do not impact the profitability of their operations in either Canada or the United States. Fights over their discharges, including waster water and air emissions, have been ongoing for years.

I photographed  the Norwegian Jewel as it was pulling out of the Port of Seattle, en route to Southeast Alaska, on July 12. Run by Norwegian Cruise Lines of Florida, it was built in Germany, is flagged in the Bahamas, and can hold more than 3,500 passengers and crew members. Information on the country of origin of the crew members is not readily accessible. My guess is most of the people on the deck of this ship could care very little about any of the larger regulatory issues discussed in this summary, and they will have a fun trip while being pampered. (Click on the photography to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

Sitka National Historic Park totem poles

 

Taken in 1999.
Taken in 1999.
Taken in 1999.

The Sitka National Historic Park, in the beautiful southeast Alaska city of Sitka, features some of the finest examples of Tlingit totem carvings, old and new, in the world. It is also among my favorite sanctuaries in the world. I lived in Sitka for a summer in 1992 and visited this place several times a week. These photos were taken during a trip I took in 1999, now 15 years ago (wow). So many of these totems most certainly have aged since I photographed them. More examples of my Alaska photos can be found on my Alaska gallery. (Please click on each photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

The raven and the frog, Tlingit totem
This is one of many totems at Sitka National Historic Park, in Sitka, Ak. (taken in June 2004).

At Sitka National Historic Park, site of a historic battle between invading Russian fur traders and their Native allies against the Native residents of the Tlingit band, amazingly beautiful totems are on display, old and new. Artists keep the tradition alive and carve on-site. This is one of my favorite places in the entire world, and I hold the raven with deep regard, like the Tlingit residents who lived here for thousands of years before. (See more pictures from the Great Land on my Alaska gallery.)

Editor’s note: I have corrected my description of the totem carving after hearing from an apprentice who worked in Sitka at the carving studio at the historic park. I had incorrectly identified one of two animals; I have corrected that calling it the frog.

A tribute to all of those race day volunteers
This friendly volunteer was among hundreds who supported the Mayor’s Marathon in Anchorage in 2009. Thanks volunteers for making all races a success.

I love running. I have run numerous marathons, half marathons, mountain races, and even an ultra. So I support running and races. Always.

However, I am a bit dubious about massive marathons these days and who they benefit, like the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in Seattle today, June 21. They clog city streets by closing major arterials for hours, outside companies who do not report their earnings pocket profits using public property and disrupt local businesses, and no proceeds from the event go to support local community sports events that cater to lower-income people who can’t afford race fees that are now $75 and even more.

I think cities need to support healthy events, like races. However, they can and should establish memoranda of understanding with companies, like the organizers of the Rock n Roll Marathon Series, and require that these companies share some of the earnings made from public resources to support sports activities for the general public. Perhaps there can be a fund to support trail development and safer streets in areas that do not have nice parks for people of all ages. That way those inconvenienced by for-profit events can get future health benefits and the city can show its residents that the public inconvenience contributes to a public good.

Always these for-profit events have volunteers. These are the unsung heroes of any race. Anyone who has hit the last water stands loves those smiley faces, oranges, and water. The Mayor’s Marathon in Anchorage, which is almost entirely off-road and on trails and dirt roads at Joint Base Elmendorf-Fort Richardson, is my model of a great marathon. It is locally run (albeit supported by large corporate benefactors), supported by fund-raising groups like Team in Training, and well supported by local volunteers. Go Mayor’s. Here is a photo I snapped while running at about mile 9 as I ran the half marathon at Mayor’s in 2009, when I had a nasty pulled muscle and had to pull the plug on the full distance. I loved those cheery volunteers who lined the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail to make my race day a memorable experience. Thanks volunteers!

(Click on the photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

 

Tok, gateway to the ‘Great Land’
My favorite sign in the whole world, I think, greets visitors driving into Alaska from Canada in the tiny junction town of Tok. Spent many memorable nights here over the years (taken in 2004).
Many have seen their visions of a better life dashed in the cold and mosquito swarms of the north. Ask Jack London, who wrote about that in Call of the Wild back in the Gold Rush boom of the late 19th century and early 20th century (photo taken in 2008).

By far, my favorite sign in the world, I think, is this one that greets visitors as the drive in on the Al-Can Highway from the Yukon and arrive in the first junction and town in Alaska, called Tok. Go straight, you arrive at Fairbanks. Head left, you come to Glenallen, and then on to Valdez or Anchorage. Do not be fooled. Tok is also a graveyard of dreams, where many who dreamed of a better life, or escaping their problems or the law, or perhaps a Permanent Fund Dividend check without working for it, busted. Alaska is filled with dreamers and also broken dreams. It is what makes it Alaska, and I still love it so. (Click on each photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

Crow Creek Gold Mine, Girdwood, Ak.
The old placer mine is located just outside of beautiful Girdwood, Ak. (2005).

About 30 miles from Anchorage you’ll find Girdwood, which is one of the prettiest places in the entire world. From there, follow the signs to the old placer mining gold operation known as Crow Creek. Today it is a popular tourist attraction. I visited the mine in May 2005, so time to trot out one of the old pictures. I loved this place. But, I loved tons of places in Alaska. (Click on the photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

Prince Rupert Highway downpour drive
Taken in August 2010.
Taken in August 2010.
Taken in August 2010.

I drove the Prince Rupert Highway (Highway 16 in British Columbia) twice. I first drove it in 2004, when I headed up to Alaska in August that year. I returned the same way in August 2010. I used the Alaska Marine Highway ferry from Prince Rupert to Haines, Ak., both times. I loved this road. It’s about 500 miles from Prince Rupert to Prince George, where one makes a sharp right on the Al-Can to head back south to the lower 48. These shots were taken in a very intense storm. I took the pictures from inside my car, while driving. The beautiful road cuts through the coastal range along the Skeena River. It’s one of my favorite drives in all of North America. But I was in a hurry then, heading back to Seattle, to find an apartment, start a grad program, and to leave Alaska forever in the rearview mirror. (Click on each photo for a larger picture on a separate picture page.)