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Adventures in Alaska


Moose, mountains and moo cows.  I've seen some!  Yay!  I was getting nervous that there was nothing more than ugly buildings and pretty trees in Alaska and that all those majestic peaks and  grand rivers were a myth perpetuated by the Chamber of Commerce.  Today a small group of ready-to-get-off-this-campus-no-matter-whats climbed into a mini-bus and headed for the hills.  Our first stop was a sustainable farm owned by Alaska Pacific University and operated by a small family who, if you like building and growing stuff, landed the perfect jobs for themselves.  It was cold and raining, but that did not dampen our enthusiasm for this outing. We spent some time in a toasty yurt, warmed by a crackling wood stove.  There, we ate box lunches (mine was a ham and cheese croissant), listened to the merits of sustainable agriculture and a little poetry.  Then we meandered around - though no for long - before shuttling off to a place called Hatcher Pass. 
At the summit, there's an old mining ghost town called Boomtown, where we were lead along a pathway and provided a wildflower introduction from a locally renowned botanist.  A few of us ventured off onto trails that wound up through the high alpine tundra toward the base of some picturesque mountains.  It reminded me of the high county of Colorado, only wetter with thicker air.  There was a collection of semi-restored buildings once occupied by the inhabitants of Boomtown, where men extracted gold from the rock.  After hiking and exploring there, we wound our way home.  En-route, our bus driver led us in a rendition of Doby Gray's Drift Away.  We all sang along to the chorus.  Next came a group sing-a-long to Woody Guthrie's This Land is Your Land.  It's just too quaint to believe, I know, but it's true.
When we returned to Anchorage, the sun was shining just a little. Lisa (my suite-mate) and I tromped over to the liquor store to score a bottle of red.  I'm sipping some as I type this from a plastic motel cup cleverly disguised as a plastic dorm cup.  

Speaking of wine, we finally found our way to the bar at the edge of campus last night after our readings.  It's closer than the library, for gosh sakes.  I don't know why we didn't go much sooner.  I drank not wine, but a fine, Alaskan Pale Ale. I had heard from a very reliable source that this was good beer.  I can now attest to that myself.  It was lovely: Not too hoppy, not too sweet and malty, but ju-u-u-u-ust right!

Last night was also exciting because I saw my second moose.  Well actually it was my fifth moose if you count all the babies which by all rights you should.  On Monday, several of us spotted a mother and her twin calves as they sauntered by at the edge of a nearby parking lot. Last night we saw a different mommy, this time with only one calf, but much closer.  She seemed unperturbed by the few of us watching her, so we stood there in her presence while she ripped tasty  leaves from shrubbery.  She was enormous and beautiful.  Her baby was very attentive, not taking its eyes off us.  Too cool!

The photo above depicts a fetching, Scottish Highland cow.  He's not a cow, actually, because he's not a she.  I didn't see any cajones on this fella, so I think he's a steer.  I could be wrong though.  His hair, as you can see, is really long and may have obscured my view.  Regardless of whether he's got 'em or he doesn't, you've got to admit he's got something.  A certain je ne sais qua, no? 

Tomorrow, it's back to the grind.  

A hui hou.  Aloha!

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