A Soaking-Wet Rest

The inevitable Alaska rain caught up with us on our adventure to Seward. Thursday morning (May 29) was another early morning for us. We had a 7:30 a.m. flight to catch from Juneau to Anchorage and we were definitely still dragging from our 3:30 a.m. wake-up call the day before. We were up by 5 a.m., picked Chelsea up at her place an hour later and were off and running to the airport.

We figured that we could cut things fairly close at a small airport, but that doesn’t work in your favor when their computers are having problems. Thanks to a series of obstacles we had to give Chelsea a quick hug goodbye and run to make our plane (and hope that our luggage would follow us to Anchorage.) Also, side note, I blame our delirious state for doing things like leaving our laptop charger in Juneau and my favorite wool hat at the Glacier Bay Lodge!

Thankfully, by 9:30 a.m. we had arrived in Anchorage with our luggage in tow. It already felt a little intimidating arriving in a “big” city again. We went to pick up our rental car that was going to be our friend for the next two weeks, which was supposed to be a small SUV, and the only one they had available was an upgraded, gigantic, Chevy Tahoe – so apparently we are now driving the biggest car in Alaska! Great for dirt roads, awful for our wallets.

It was dreary and drizzling when we got outside. It didn’t bother us though, we were already mentally prepared for Alaska to be wet and gray and we also knew that it would help contain the massive fire that the state was battling near Anchorage. But it was a bit disappointing, as we were about to drive two hours to Seward on what is supposed to be one of the most spectacular roads in the country.

We set off on our drive. Dave got his coffee, I had the road atlas, and we headed south on the only road out of town onto the Kenai Peninsula. I had also printed out a milepost description of the road, so we knew all of the great spots along the way.

Despite the weather, the road was grand. But we did hope that it would be clear on the drive back in a few days. As we looked around, we had a sense that the extreme beauty was being cloaked under the weight of the clouds.

To be honest, it was a tough drive. The further we went, the more it rained. It was completely socked in, and all we saw were hints of the landscape. Dave and I were so tired from our Southeast Alaska adventures and the several early mornings, that we struggled on the way to Seward. We pulled over a few times to take in the fresh (wet) air and wake ourselves up.

Finally, we arrived on the coast in Seward at lunchtime and headed straight for the local brew pub. By then it was soaking rain and very chilly. We huddled inside with beer and comfort food and started recovering from shivers and fatigue.

The original plan for the day had been to pick up sandwiches on the way down and to stop at Exit Glacier to hike the steep trail up to see the spectacle that is the Harding Ice Field. But not only would that trail have been dangerous in the rain, but pointless in the clouds. So, instead, we headed to our B&B to see if it would be ready early.

We were booked at the Paddle Inn. It was a few miles outside of town in a beach area called Lowell Point. You had to drive a fairly beat up gravel road along the edge of the shoreline (and under some impressive former rock slides) to access it. Once we got out there, it was a tiny area with a bunch of camp sites, some small houses, an RV park, tents and a handful of kayaking companies – and forests, beaches and wilderness.

 

We pulled up to the place around 2 p.m. and Allison, one of the owners had just finished preparing for our arrival. As we unpacked and unwound, we chatted with her about the history of the place. She and her husband, Alan, are just about our age. They met down on Lowell Point many years ago when they were both there working as kayak guides together. Years later, after they were married, they bought land on the Point with the dream of starting the inn. At the time, there was nothing on the property. Alan is a carpenter and led the building of both a beautiful small home for them and then the two-story inn property. Each level is a rental unit (low tide and high tide). We had the lower level. It was beautifully done – the level of detail on the woodwork was impressive. There was a big kitchen area with a fireplace, couch and a breakfast counter situated along a huge window overlooking Resurrection Bay. Then there was a cozy bedroom and large, beautifully-tiled, bathroom off the back. The kitchen was stocked with do-it-your-self breakfast fixings, including everything we needed to make our own waffles. It was a perfect, no-fuss, location.

The first thing we did when we got there, was start the fireplace, grab books, make tea, curl up on the couch and promptly fall asleep. When we woke up, it was still bright, but still pouring rain and blanketed in clouds. We knew the place had a gorgeous view, but all we were getting was the soggy view. However, we were stir crazy since we had to cancel our hike, so we decided to bundle up in rain gear and explore Lowell Point a bit. Lowell Point neighbors state park land, so we headed out for an hour-long walk around the area – up the back roads into the forest and then down on the beach to walk along the black sandy coast line.

On our first night up in the Southcentral Alaska we were already noticing how much later it stayed light. So around 8 p.m. on the beach, in the bright – but dreary – light, we realized that we better make our way back into town for dinner before everything closed. We found a great little Thai place and loaded up on curry and noodles. A yummy, warm, end to a sleepy, chilly day. When we got home, we fell asleep almost immediately and slept a solid 10 hours as the heavy rain and thick clouds continued to envelop Seward.

***

We woke up to a steady sheet of rain. It served us well. We lounged in bed. We ate breakfast by the fire. We dozed. It was just what we needed to refuel. It wasn’t until around Noon that we decided to venture out. And for the next five or six hours we explored the Southern section of the Seward highway. 

Views of the bay from the Paddle Inn on a rainy day.

We had no grand plans, no hikes in this mess, we just decided to go moose hunting in the marshes and bird watching in the lakes. Unfortunately, everyone else decided to stay home too. No animal sightings for us. We also went to check out the views of Exit Glacier. While we had a sense of how grand everything would be, it was all veiled in the heavy clouds and soaking rain. Later in the evening, we called it quits and returned to our books and the cozy couch. We also spent some time Skyping with Dave’s parents. Then a few hours later, we headed back into town to the well-known fish restaurant – Ray’s. I decided to splurge on the King Crab legs. They were delicious and it was totally worth it.

At the trailhead for Lost Lake, the trail we had planned to hike that day.

Kenai Lake

Exit Glacier

After being thoroughly stuffed, we rolled back home to our little Paddle Inn and had another relaxing night sheltered from the heavy rain. That night, the rain fell the hardest it had been yet. We fell sound asleep again. But this time, we were excited, because – rain or not – the next day we were getting on a four-hour boat ride to our wilderness lodge out on the Kenai Peninsula. Thanks to rainy Seward, we were now well-rested and ready to go!

Ice Caves and Glaciers

Monday night, we arrived in Juneau from Sitka. As the third largest city in Alaska, it definitely had a larger feel than Sitka or Ketchikan – but like every place we’ve been to in Alaska so far, the cities are dwarfed by the landscapes around it. That’s one thing in particular that Dave and I have noticed and liked about this state. Human development here really acts only as a gateway to the wild. Juneau, for example, is tucked along the coast between the mountains and the water. It only spreads a little up into the surrounding hillsides, but then it stops – and wilderness takes over from there.

We arrived in the evening, picked up our car and went to check in to the Alaska’s Capital Inn. The owners were out for the evening, so we were greeted by their Scottish Terrier. The place was quaint and Victorian. They decorated it beautifully. We were so tired when we arrived that we ended up falling asleep for an hour before dinnertime.

Chelsea Good, our friend and my work colleague, was expected to arrive into Juneau that evening. So we found a local restaurant, open late, and headed over to get a table for all of us. The Island Pub was across the inlet in Douglas, was definitely a local hangout – far out of reach of the cruise ships – and had really great pizza. We got a table with a view of the water, mountains and sea planes and waited for Chelsea to arrive. When her taxi pulled up, we had a great big Alaska reunion and grilled her on her trip details while we ate dinner.

 Day 1 Juneau – Ice Cave Hunting

On Tuesday morning, we all slept in a little bit. Linda and Mark, the innkeepers, made us a very large breakfast of zucchini quiche, home style potatoes, homemade muffins and jam and tres leches cake for dessert (a breakfast dessert!) We were joined by a couple who had stayed there many times before. They ran a marionette puppet company for kids, had troupes all over the country and picked the best locations for themselves. Apparently they toured Alaska every year for about five weeks and know the state very well from moving from small community to small community.

After breakfast, we picked up Chelsea and headed out on our planned hike for the day. We had decided to hike the West Trail at Mendenhall Glacier – about an 8-mile roundtrip. The trail description had also pointed out a side route to an ice cave. We didn’t really have a sense of what they meant, so we thought we’d add that section and see what we could find.

The day was cloudy, but with a high ceiling and no rain. As we started out on our hike, we realized that the clouds were actually a benefit, because it made the rainforest canopy glow in a vivid green. The trail started out easy and flat and meandered through the forest. The three of us chatted and enjoyed the creeks, large spruce trees, deep green moss and the quiet. It was a gorgeous forest hike, and every now and then we got a peak through the vegetation out to the large Mendenhall Lake and surrounding mountains.

The trail description had indicated that the locals knew about ice caves along the glacier. And that when the weather was dry and the conditions were right, you could take a small side trail and scramble over some rocks and find them. We didn’t really know what to expect – just something small and interesting to check out. Our innkeeper Linda mentioned them too – said that the spur trail was often marked with survey tape, and if you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t have any reason to step off trail to head in that direction.

We saw the sign for the first “view point” of the lake, where the description said the trail would be, and sure enough there was a side trail with a sign that said “you are now leaving the official maintained West Lake Trail.” Sure, why not? We headed in that direction through the forest.

Soon we realized that this trail was not a short side trip. We followed the trail for awhile, traversing some steep rocky hills. Luckily we had a dry day, so nothing was slick. But we quickly understood why everyone said not to do this if it was wet or raining.

We came out of the trees and faced a mountainside of rocks and boulders. Looking way up ahead, we saw people climbing and scrambling up over the rock face. It was clear that this was the direction we were supposed to go and that this “side trail” would be taking us down to the very face of the glacier itself. We set off to tackle it. Chelsea, Dave and I were now determined to find out what this ice cave was all about.

We climbed and scrambled, and lifted and lowered ourselves over hard rock and loose rock. We pulled each other up, and gripped onto rock faces and climbed over ridges. It was not easy work. But we were having a blast and kept going. The further we went, the closer we got to the face of the Mendenhall Glacier. Between the mountains and rocky landscape and the enormous glacier face, it felt like we were traversing in another world. And every once in awhile, we’d catch a glimpse of other people way ahead of us – and we knew that we continued to remain in “charted” territory.

Finally we walk/slid down a final incline and we were officially at the face of the glacier with the huge, hundreds-of-feet high ice chunks looming above us. This glacier face is not the type that creates a high wall, rather it slopes down into the lake where it melts and crumbles into the water. Where we were standing was not dangerous, but it did feel like a place where humans didn’t really belong.

There is no way to truly capture the sense of scale when standing that close to a glacier. It felt like a looming, vivid blue and white, creature , churning, cracking and booming in front of us – and as if, any moment, it would exhale, releasing another car-sized block of ice into the lake below.

We lingered there awhile and assumed that what we were looking at was considered the ice caves. But we kept seeing small groups of people hike down the side of the glacier, half on the mountain half on the ice, on the very West side of the face. We thought, let’s do it. No matter what, it would be interesting to see what was up there over the ridge. By then we were chilly – the air coming off the glacier made it very cold – and we bundled up in every layer that we brought with us. We also stopped to put our Yaktrax on over our hiking boots. Yaktrax are rubber covers, similar to putting chains on a tire, that cover the bottom of your shoes with metal coils that make it easier to get traction on snow and ice. And up the mountainside we went.

 

We realized as we climbed up the side that some of what we were walking on was dirt and some of it was dirt-covered glacier. But it was in a relatively safe area and was very stable. Every now and then, we could see small cracks that showed the brilliant blue ice deep underneath the dirty top layers. It was like cold blue gemstone plastic covered in silt and muck.

When we arrived at the top, we looked down and realized there was a small riverbed below and that the water was running down under the icy area we had just climbed. We head a few voices at the base, so we scrambled down the side to the water’s edge. And then we saw it. The water had carved a 30-foot high smooth-as-silk cave under the ice field we had just climbed along. The river disappeared in a rocky, silt-lined bed beneath and the walls of this cave were the bluest blue I’d ever seen. We were in total awe. I think we all were frozen there for a minute and didn’t know what to think. We felt like we stumbled into a magical place where we didn’t belong.

We stood and gaped and started to take pictures. And that’s when we saw a few people hike out of the cave. We now realized that we would always regret it, if we didn’t explore it for ourselves. We jumped across the stream bank and worked our way in.

Inside, the cave was raining with glacier melt. The ceiling and walls were rippled in turquoise translucent blue – the smoothest, hardest ice I’ve ever seen. And at the end was a waterfall in the ice that was illuminated by a large perfectly round skylight in the ice field above. This was an under-ice paradise. We cautiously kept working our way to the end of the cave. By then, we were the only ones in there. When we arrived at the waterfall at the back, we were bathed in melting ice and sunlight. We stood there and stared up at the sky and felt so very much alive –  laughing and exclaiming in awe! We were living the kind of moment that only happened to certain people that you’ve heard about somewhere or saw on TV.

After about 20 minutes of exploring the cave we emerged back in the world and decided to have lunch along the banks of the stream. We pulled out our French bread and cheese and salami and fruit and chocolate and just sat there (cold and wet) staring at the cave entrance, still in disbelieve of what we just did.

Then came the several hour scramble back to the main trail. After about six hours of hiking, we decided there was definitely no need to continue along the original trail, so we headed back to car. We were exhausted and inspired. And so after a quick visit to the Mendenhall Visitors Center (where for $3 you could touch real glacier ice!) we sought out the Alaskan Brewing tasting room in town to enjoy some beers and revel in our discovery that day.

That night we had a mediocre touristy dinner at the Twisted Fish Co and headed to bed early. We were exhausted from the hike that day – and we had a 3:45 a.m. wake-up call for Wednesday’s adventure!

Day 2 Juneau – Glacier Country

In order to get to Glacier National Park – you have to take a boat or a plane to Gustavus and the park entrance. From there, you can only enter the park on the one authorized daytrip catamaran boat tour. It is an 8-hour tour narrated by a local park ranger. To make this a day trip, the three of us needed to catch a 5:20 a.m. flight from Juneau to Gustavus. As we sat there, bleary-eyed in the airport, we kept reminding ourselves that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. We were in Alaska, and we had to go to Glacier Bay!

We were booked with Seaport Airlines on a small Cessna that would get us to Gustavus in only 25 minutes. The passengers were the three of us and two other people that were braving the same early-morning day trip option. It was a semi-cloudy day, but the flight across the channel to the park entrance was breathtaking nonetheless. And before we knew it, we were on the ground on the tiny island. A van picked us up and drove us the 10 minutes to the park lodge and by 7:15 a.m. we were on the boat and ready to head out on the day’s adventure.

Since we were so early in the season, there were only 40 people booked on the boat, that usually can be full with up to 150 people. The three of us grabbed a corner spot on the top deck with the best window from the inside cabin – which became our home base for the next 8 hours.

The boat worked its way up one side of the park channel, all the way to the spectacular mile-long glacier faces at the end and then back down the other side. For most of the time, the three of us were out on deck. It was cold and windy, but whenever the sun broke through, it was heavenly. Along the way we spotted sea otters, sea lions, puffins, bald eagles, arctic terns and other amazing birds. We also spotted a grizzly bear on the hillside, several humpback whale tails disappearing into the water and numerous mountain goats and their babies. We saw gorgeous glacier valleys, towering snow-capped mountains and massive living glaciers calving into the sound. The beauty of the day was spectacular and the scale and expanse of the great wilderness out there is not something that is easily conveyed through words.

And plus, it was fun. We met new people, we ate food, drank beer, danced on the deck, hunted for wildlife through binoculars – and for much of the trip, we were the only three on the top deck as the boat raced along. It was like having the entire Glacier National Park all to ourselves.

When we got back to the lodge around 3:30 in the afternoon, we passed out in front of a huge fireplace. I napped, Dave and Chelsea played cards and drank beer and we all totally relaxed and waited for our van back to the airport.

By 6:30 we were back on a Cessna and by 7 p.m. we were back in Juneau and searching for dinner. We decided to go to a great local restaurant called The Rookery. It’s a coffee shop by day and at night, a local chef has started cooking dinner. It’s a different menu every night, all local ingredients. The food was delicious. We shared mac-n-cheese, scallops and a spinach salad for appetizers. Chelsea and I had King Salmon with BBQ rub that was cooked perfectly and Dave had halibut with peach kimchee and Vietnamese crepes. We finished dinner off with butterscotch caramel bread pudding made with chunks of sourdough.

After being thoroughly stuffed we wandered around town in the late-night sun and peaked in all of the Juneau tourist shop windows – searching for that perfect “whale charm” or gem stone that “is one of a kind and today only half off!” And since it was sadly Chelsea’s last night in Alaska we sought out one of the last places in town open for drinks. The very local Viking Club bar, with some questionable karaoke in full swing. We had a drink, Chelsea held court with the locals and we laughed and chatted the rest of the night away.

The next morning, Dave and I were heading up North to Anchorage, with another two weeks of vacation ahead of us and Chelsea was heading back to the lower 48. It was great spending two days with a friend who definitely shares our adventurous spirit. We only hope to be able to continue to top the amazing stories we’ve created thus far.

A Break in Posts

A short message to all of you following the blog. Unfortunately our laptop cord liked Juneau so much that it decided to stay there while we went up to Anchorage.  So the laptop is dead and we can't post. We are in Seward and the Kenai Peninsula for the next few days and the Juneau innkeeper is shipping the cord to our place where we'll be in Anchorage on June 3. I know,  I know, how will you ever survive? In the meantime, we'll be off the grid until then. Headed to a wilderness lodge tomorrow until the 3rd with no internet anyway! Farewell!

The Sights and Sounds of Sitka

What a difference a 35-minute flight can make. Last night, after a great start to our vacation, we took a short hop over to Sitka from Ketchikan. It had been a Plan B decision to take a detour to Sitka after the ferry we were supposed to take from Ketchikan to Juneau was cancelled (we learned from locals that it needed a complete engine overhaul) – so a few weeks ago, I changed things up and booked us a flight to Sitka for a night. It turned out to be a great decision.

We lifted up out of the clouds of Ketchikan and all of a sudden, miles of amazing snowcapped mountains were below us. The colors were breathtaking – the blues of the ocean, the grays of the mountains and the white snow covered peaks. On the plane we were sitting next to a man from Colorado Springs who was headed to Sitka for a weekend fishing trip. We shared notes on favorite Colorado spots and all looked out the plane window hungrily together, practically giddy about the scenery unfolding beneath us.

The plane dropped down to the short runway on the water and quickly rushed to a stop. We had arrived in Sitka, and I was in love with it already. Blue skies, warm sun and towering peaks surrounded us. We picked up our bags and rental car and headed into town. Looking around it felt like someone had combined the craggy, rocky shores and seaside villages of Maine with the large peaks of Colorado. The weather was stunning and we felt small surrounded by all of the views.

The B&B, Raven’s Peek,  was about four miles out of town, on the only road on the island. We turned onto a long gravel driveway and drove straight up to the front entrance of the large log cabin style chalet that was to be our home for the night. When we stepped out of the car our senses were overloaded. Directly above us were three bald eagles circling and calling out, and when we turned to take in the view we realized we were on top of the world looking out over the ocean, islands and mountains. The sun was glistening and we were stopped in our tracks. I have a feeling our jaws were dropped to the dirt, because the next thing we knew, Marilyn Wise from the B&B came running out to greet us yelling “I thought I heard a car, honey our guests are here!” as she reached in for big hugs. “I’m Italian,” she explained. “I hug people.”

We were immediately whisked up into the house and into Marilyn’s stories. Marilyn is a very special lady. She and her husband Mike moved to Sitka about 11 years ago. Before that, they lived in a small village above the arctic circle, and before that they lived in Washington, D.C. She is still a practicing physician at a health clinic in Sitka and Mike is retired, but runs the B&B and his own coffee roasting company that supplies beans to shops in town. They also love art, and a local artist Keith and his wife and daughter were visiting that day, and we got a full tour of all of Keith’s beautiful and unique sculptures that adorned Marilyn and Mike’s home.

We got a full wing of the house to ourselves, with a separate entrance. The bedroom had big windows overlooking that jaw-dropping view. And we had our own private deck with a hot tub, sauna and fire pit. I was already regretting our decision to only stay a day.

We had dinner reservations at the Channel Club restaurant right down the road from the B&B. We made it at 7:30 p.m. and after spending a few minutes playing with the two resident dogs, we were seated at a front row table overlooking the ocean, the dormant volcano Mt. Edgecomb and the golden, not-quite-yet setting sun. Dinner was fabulous. I had an incredible Alaskan King Salmon on mushroom risotto and Dave had blackened cod on bok choy with a fried risotto cake. After being thoroughly stuffed with dessert and wine, we rolled back to the B&B just in time for the amazing 10 p.m. sunset and a dip in our private hot tub – all while watching bald eagles soaring over the island below and listening to the humming birds buzzing on the deck. And to think, that morning we woke up in a hotel in downtown Ketchikan.

***

This morning we woke up early again at 7 a.m., the east coast jet lag is really helping us max out our days. We looked out the window and gorgeous blue skies were there to meet us. Breakfast by Mike was ready for us early, and we sat and chatted with him and Marilyn for about an hour while we enjoyed delicious food with a sweeping view of the ocean and islands.

By 10 a.m. we were off down the road and heading to the trailhead for the Harbor Mountain trail. We had researched it in advance, and Mike and Marilyn confirmed that it was a spectacular choice. To get to the trailhead, we had to drive up a 5-mile gravel fire road. Around every switchback, there were fantastic views over the ocean. We were surrounded by towering Sitka Spruces, draped in pale green moss.

We arrived at the start of the trail and there were three other cars in the parking lot – which was a perfect number – not too crowded, but other people on the trail so we knew it wouldn’t just be us and the bears today. After making some adjustments with camera equipment and the day pack, we were off up the trail. Our goal was to summit the Harbor Mtn section and head back down, a simple 5 mile round trip.

The first few switchbacks meandered through shrubs and evergreens, but it didn’t take long before we were up on a ridgeline with spectacular views. In fact, except for a few wooded sections, we were basically out of the trees for most of the hike. When we reached the first clearing, we truly felt like we were on top of the world. We were surrounded by mountains and ocean in every direction. The trail followed along a wooden boardwalk along the ridge. The mountain swept steeply down on either side of us, and snow capped mountains came into view as a constant backdrop. We had to keep turning around to remind ourselves that there was ocean there too.

About a mile in, we reached a high-point and the trail began to wrap its way round the mountain to the back side. From there it opened up into huge sloping meadows and boulder fields. High above us, dozens (no exaggeration) of eagles swooped and called. Their cry was beautiful and it cut through the silence. If you stood very still, you could hear the eagle wings swooshing in the wind overhead.

Speaking of silence – we did our very best to make sure there wasn’t much of it. We were not in the mood to sneak up on any bears. So we had our bear bell ringing as we hiked (best $3 we’ve ever spent) and Dave and I were chatting away on the trail. If there was a bear out there, he was going to hear us approaching a mile away. Now and then, we would pass other hikers and it would calm our nerves a bit. But as soon as they were out of ear shot, out came the bear bell and the silence was no more.

About two hours into the hike, after going up and up and up, we reached the summit. I was channeling my friend Jon White and running up the steep slopes. I couldn’t help myself. Rocks were used in the trail to create stairs and I just started leaping up them toward the sky. Amazing views were in reach, and so I took off! When I crested the top ridge and came to a stop, the panorama around me took my breath away. I truly believe it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever stood. There we were, on a mountain top in Sitka, Alaska.

Dave and I sat on a rock and shared a granola bar and took a lot of photos. We could see all around us, and so we weren’t concerned with bears. Instead we were quiet for once, taking in the serenity of the moment. Then, all of a sudden, we hear a tremendous low grumble. It sounded like a major thunder boom – but the skies were completely blue. It was a massive avalanche off in the mountains. We couldn’t see it, but it thundered through the valley and echoed all around us. I’ll never forget that sound.

And with that, we headed back down the mountain – singing, chatting, ringing our bell and chasing those bears away. It was just as beautiful going down, and we kept taking long lingering looks at the views to try to imprint them on the mind forever. By the time we got back to the car, I wanted to go back up the hill and soak up more of it. But instead, we reluctantly made our way back down the fire road and on to pavement and back into downtown Sitka.

I had researched a small brewery, Baranof Brewing Company, and so we went to check it out. Everything in town was either very sleepy or closed because of Memorial Day, but Baranof was open and serving snacks and beer. Dave was happy having a few pints, and we ended up talking to the bartender. She had just taken a trip to New Zealand, so we were comparing notes on our trip.

Then we spent our last hour in town seeking out some lunch – which proved to be difficult because of the holiday. We found some chowder on a deck in the chilly sunshine and started dreading the fact that we would soon be leaving this awesome island in Southeast Alaska.

Our flight took off at 6:30 p.m. from the tiny airport with two gates and one flight scheduled. It would be a 20-min hop to Juneau where we would be meeting up with Chelsea Good later that night.

As I started to doze on the plane, the sights and sounds of Sitka were running through my head. Closing my eyes I saw those sharp and snowy volcanic peaks and the miles and miles of hazy blue ocean. And I thought about the crashing avalanche, the swooping eagle wings, the bouncing bear bell (and my singing that would scare off any bear) and the funny buzzing humming birds the night before.  Sitka was a very wild place full of different textures. I wish I had more time there, but I guarantee that I won’t be forgetting the sights and sounds of Sitka anytime soon.