So my mom decided to take another one of those semi-spontaneous trips of hers. She has been known to pop into my bedroom asking me if I want to go to London with her this weekend or informing me that she and the mister are going to Panama in the morning.
As it turns out, Alaska ended up being a real winner. Probably one of the best family trips to date. Here are just a few photos of many that could never do it justice.
My mom and I met up with my grandparents and stayed in an RV with someone my grandpa apparently knew from some exclusive racquetball clan, or whatever the kids are calling it these days. We hiked. We biked. We saw bears and glaciers. We ate our weight in mixed nuts. We had strange encounters with Japanese tourists. It was truly memorable.
Our first morning in Alaska, upon Grandpa’s request, some Alaskan friends who I am apparently barely related to reluctantly agreed to take us to see Sarah Palin’s house. They, however, would not park anywhere near the driveway. People in Alaska tend to respect the privacy of the Palin family more than most. Anyway, grandpa pulled up the little silver saturn right into their driveway and snapped some photos. My grandpa is funnier than the majority of grandpas, I bet.
Every once in a while you experience a moment that it just so perfect-- a moment that you feel inspired and that stands out in your memory as one of pure happiness. On the drive back from Portage Glacier the second day in Alaska I sat in the back seat and laid my head on the car window. I was staring out at the vast array of quicksand that that stretched throughout the valley. The patterns of grey were so beautiful and so expansive-- like the ocean’s horizon-- until they met up with the bouldering mountains. I was listening to the most perfect music, mostly to tune out the Rush Limbaugh Grandpa had on XM radio, but that is beside the point. It was nearly 11 PM and the sun was just beginning to set. The way the clouds tumbled around the sky and the sun shone through the layered holes of whiteness, it looked like an antique pastel painting. It was an indescribable moment. I suppose sometimes music can just have that effect. It was perfect.
On the third day, my mom took me to do literally my favorite thing in the world, whitewater rafting. We rafted Class IV and V rapids. The water was much colder and the rapids were much bigger than anything I had rafted before. We made some new friends even, like the guy in the black helmet sitting next to me in the picture. His name was Tony and he decided why call me by my given name when he can call me things like “Pop-Tart” and “Trish”?
Whitewater rafting is such an incredible experience. I think it’s something about the challenge and the adventure. You have to have complete trust in your guide and complete confidence in yourself. I’ve never experienced anything else like it.
On a side note, I think my dream job would be where I live in some remote jungle in South America among the village people and just guide whitewater trips down some exotic river all day. But also, part of the job is to write some type of column for a newsjournal, but not the boring kind. However, the hours are flexible that I can travel around the world taking pictures for like National Geographic and then some gum company would sponsor me to make some type of distinctive dance video with all my worldly travels, like the guy from the You Tube video. If anyone knows of a job opening that meets those specifications, please let me know.
On Day 4, my mom and I went on a 26-mile bike ride up the coast.
I was chased by a moose. Let me repeat that. I was CHASED by a MOOSE. My mom tried to get too close to it with her bike. I tell my mother time and time again to stay away from the hazardous wildlife, but you know how she gets around subarctic mammals. I was too busy peddling away from the moose to get a picture of our new friend but I did get this one later, which I was quite pleased with. I think it may be the shot of the trip:
Apparently, another moose crossed right in front of where my mom was biking, but by the time she got her camera out to take a picture, it had died. The camera that is, not the moose silly.
The glaciers. The mountains. The waterfalls. The miles and miles of thick, natural, uncharted forestry. The setting that no words can describe and pictures can portray. The rural countryside. The simpler way of life. I can’t wait to go back someday and backpack through the beautiful mountains and maybe even go back to some of the trails I hiked on this trip. It's hard to imagine anything more beautiful. I just love Alaska.
By the way, Northern Exposure is the name of this obscure TV show that my parents used to watch. It is set in Alaska and I think it is centered around this guy who runs a coffee shop and hunts caribou on the side. He has this girlfriend twenty or so years younger who is dies in a tragic fishing accident. I think it got cancelled about a year ago. What?! To be fair, I inferred all that information from the ten minutes I have seen of the show. Anyway, if you have any information on the whereabouts of the complete seasons of this show on DVD, please let my mother know. Apparently, she will pay top-dollar for the collectors edition of the caribou hunting show.
Our first morning in Alaska, upon Grandpa’s request, some Alaskan friends who I am apparently barely related to reluctantly agreed to take us to see Sarah Palin’s house. They, however, would not park anywhere near the driveway. People in Alaska tend to respect the privacy of the Palin family more than most. Anyway, grandpa pulled up the little silver saturn right into their driveway and snapped some photos. My grandpa is funnier than the majority of grandpas, I bet.
Every once in a while you experience a moment that it just so perfect-- a moment that you feel inspired and that stands out in your memory as one of pure happiness. On the drive back from Portage Glacier the second day in Alaska I sat in the back seat and laid my head on the car window. I was staring out at the vast array of quicksand that that stretched throughout the valley. The patterns of grey were so beautiful and so expansive-- like the ocean’s horizon-- until they met up with the bouldering mountains. I was listening to the most perfect music, mostly to tune out the Rush Limbaugh Grandpa had on XM radio, but that is beside the point. It was nearly 11 PM and the sun was just beginning to set. The way the clouds tumbled around the sky and the sun shone through the layered holes of whiteness, it looked like an antique pastel painting. It was an indescribable moment. I suppose sometimes music can just have that effect. It was perfect.
On the third day, my mom took me to do literally my favorite thing in the world, whitewater rafting. We rafted Class IV and V rapids. The water was much colder and the rapids were much bigger than anything I had rafted before. We made some new friends even, like the guy in the black helmet sitting next to me in the picture. His name was Tony and he decided why call me by my given name when he can call me things like “Pop-Tart” and “Trish”?
Whitewater rafting is such an incredible experience. I think it’s something about the challenge and the adventure. You have to have complete trust in your guide and complete confidence in yourself. I’ve never experienced anything else like it.
On a side note, I think my dream job would be where I live in some remote jungle in South America among the village people and just guide whitewater trips down some exotic river all day. But also, part of the job is to write some type of column for a newsjournal, but not the boring kind. However, the hours are flexible that I can travel around the world taking pictures for like National Geographic and then some gum company would sponsor me to make some type of distinctive dance video with all my worldly travels, like the guy from the You Tube video. If anyone knows of a job opening that meets those specifications, please let me know.
On Day 4, my mom and I went on a 26-mile bike ride up the coast.
I was chased by a moose. Let me repeat that. I was CHASED by a MOOSE. My mom tried to get too close to it with her bike. I tell my mother time and time again to stay away from the hazardous wildlife, but you know how she gets around subarctic mammals. I was too busy peddling away from the moose to get a picture of our new friend but I did get this one later, which I was quite pleased with. I think it may be the shot of the trip:
Apparently, another moose crossed right in front of where my mom was biking, but by the time she got her camera out to take a picture, it had died. The camera that is, not the moose silly.
The glaciers. The mountains. The waterfalls. The miles and miles of thick, natural, uncharted forestry. The setting that no words can describe and pictures can portray. The rural countryside. The simpler way of life. I can’t wait to go back someday and backpack through the beautiful mountains and maybe even go back to some of the trails I hiked on this trip. It's hard to imagine anything more beautiful. I just love Alaska.
By the way, Northern Exposure is the name of this obscure TV show that my parents used to watch. It is set in Alaska and I think it is centered around this guy who runs a coffee shop and hunts caribou on the side. He has this girlfriend twenty or so years younger who is dies in a tragic fishing accident. I think it got cancelled about a year ago. What?! To be fair, I inferred all that information from the ten minutes I have seen of the show. Anyway, if you have any information on the whereabouts of the complete seasons of this show on DVD, please let my mother know. Apparently, she will pay top-dollar for the collectors edition of the caribou hunting show.
Keep it Real
Sara Nicole
Sara Nicole
No comments:
Post a Comment