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2008 | |
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Last update 12/14/08
egometer |
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ike |
sunday, 12/14/2008 |
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I haven't written much about Hurricane Ike, perhaps because I felt the tale was not yet ready for the telling, with important outcomes still undetermined. But it has been three months now, and although many people are still trying to put their lives back together, I believe the die is cast, and most of the survivors will eventually rebuild, no matter that mother nature could take it all away again. People who live on the gulf coast tend to be rather proud and defiant in the face of adversity. Ike started with the nervous anticipation all of us living near the coast experience several times a year as we plot the course of the latest monster storm, hoping it will spare us and land somewhere else, hopefully in a sparsely populated region. But the probability of a direct hit grew over the course of a few days from unlikely to possible, to likely, and finally to certain. On Thursday, September 11, mandatory evacuation orders began being announced, and my apartment was in the evacuation zone. I had stowed my valuables in plastic bags in boxes in the kitchen, then packed up the car and gone to work at my normal time of 6:30 AM, awaiting an official "release" from work. By 9 AM, with no word yet, I figured we had waited long enough and advised all of my group to head for safety, as I did likewise. I was fortunate to be among those who got out while the lovely weather gave no clue what was coming. Many people hunkered down somewhere in the city, but I drove north, since I had somewhere to go. Although the traffic was heavy, I was relieved that it was nothing like the Hurricane Rita evacuation fiasco of 2005.
Ike's eye passed directly over my apartment at 4 AM on Saturday, the 13th, and moved straight up the eastern edge of Texas, Almost everyone in the path lost power, but of course the degree of general destruction lessened slowly as the distance from the coast increased. At our house, 250 miles from the gulf, we hunkered down all day while the wind howled. By early evening, it was clear that we would really come out quite unscathed, with limbs and lots of small branches strewn about the yard, and only a couple of flaps of loose shingles dislodged from our 25 year old roof. Since the power was out for the next several days, my parents moved their RV back and forth so we could plug the refrigerator and freezer into their onboard generator a couple of times a day to preserve the food. Otherwise, we did just fine with candles, lanterns, and a camping stove.
On Sunday afternoon, the 21st, I took a quick drive down to Kemah to see how bad it was near the bay. Although there was debris everywhere, and there were boats tossed asunder along the road, and some were submerged, but most of the boats in the harbor were miraculously intact in their berths. Electric utility bucket trucks from all over the country were descending on the entire metropolitan area, and loaders and trucks were already out piling and hauling away debris. The boardwalk area, where we have enjoyed an afternoon libation many times on the top deck of the Cadillac Bar, was in a shambles, since sits right on Galveston Bay and would have been submerged under six to eight feet of water. All traffic was restricted from driving over the bridge onto Galveston Island, so I didn't go any further south this day.
On October 4th, three weeks after Ike, M was down for the weekend and
we drove down to the island for a look around. The older buildings
were particularly hard hit, with most of them collapsed in heaps.
Debris was piled everywhere along the streets, awaiting pickup by
someone. Along the seawall, the Flagship hotel had gaping holes in the
facade, and the piers further top the east - Murdoch's, the Mermaid
Pier, the old Balinese room
that was redecorated as a Hooter's - all gone. Only a fragment of the
group was left.
It's funny how you realize how much you've become attached to something when it's taken away. The people of Galveston are not the sort to sit back and wait for someone else to solve their problems - they're rapidly cleaning up, and the rebuilding has already begun for some. I took another trip down to the island on December 6th to see some old friends, and the progress is amazing. By next spring, we'll be regular weekend beachgoers once again, planting our umbrella down below the seawall, close enough to the Spot that we can walk across the street for lunch when we get hungry. | |
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alaska! part 2 |
tuesday, 11/11/2008 |
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Sunday, August 17 - We left the Captain Cook Hotel to take a short bus
ride to the Anchorage train station. There is only one modern railroad
line in Alaska,
We lumbered through the coastal lowlands out of Anchorage and our tour
guide announced that we would soon be going through Wasilla, home of
the current governor and home of the real start of the Iditarod sled
dog race. (At this time, we had never heard of the mayor turned
governor, Sarah Palin.)
Monday, August 18 - We had a nice breakfast with eggs over easy and
excellent reindeer sausage. (Reindeer, also known as caribou, are
herded domestically like cattle for meat in these northern climes.)
Our little hiking group assembled and headed down the road to Denali
State park in a van, stopping at the Coal Creek Trailhead at a little
lake above the Chulitna River. We stopped to get provisions, put on
rain pants (heavy dew on the underbrush) and take a potty break. A
couple of hikers who went to the outhouse had a big black bear cross
the trail just a few feet in front of them. Nobody panicked, and we
went right on with the hike, pausing to inspect bear scat loaded with
wild berries. Apparently when the bears have plenty of sweet berries
and fish to eat in summer, they aren't particularly interested in
people.
After hiking back down the ridge and riding back to the lodge, we once
again staked out some chairs on the back deck, borrowed a couple of
wine glasses from the friendly bartender, and opened a bottle of
Cabernet Sauvignon we had bought in Anchorage for a future special
occasion. With the sun now shining, we whiled away the afternoon with
the other guests, patiently awaiting the appearance of the mountain.
And on this day, we would be rewarded. The clouds began to drift away,
and the peak emerged, even more enormous and spectacular than we had
imagined. Cameras appeared everywhere, and the digital equivalent of
hundreds of rolls of film were exposed as more and more of the
mountain slowly emerged.
Tuesday, August 19 - We awoke to a completely clear sky over the mountain, and once again headed for the lodge deck after breakfast to take more pictures and admire the view. The morning sun cast a warm glow on the snow clad peak some 40 miles away, across a river valley shrouded in low-lying fog. By the time we departed on a four hour bus ride to our next destination up the road, the fog had burned away, and the entire mountain range stood before us against a perfect blue sky. The bus rolled north, with a stop at the midway point for us to get out and stretch while looking for wildlife across an expanse of tundra. We arrived at the Princess Denali Lodge in time to have a late lunch at one of their restaurants perched on the bank of the river. We signed up for the dinner theater show later in teh evening and went off exploring the gift shops across the road, which turned out to be loaded with cheap tourist junk and little else. The dinner theater featured family style dining on the Alaskan version of barbeque. Of course it was nowhere near as good as ours, but that's how most people feel about the food they're used to. The musical was of course a story of early Alaska settlers, with a little audience participation.
Wednesday, August 20 - Our original booking included a natural history tour that began nearby at the entrance to Denali National Park - the only paved entrance. With few exceptions, the only vehicles allowed on the park road are a fleet of school buses driven by park employees.
The boat stopped a mile or two down the river at a site along the
banks where everyone can get off to go group by group to a series of
different venues where Alaskan culture and history are highlighted.
For us, the first stop was a cabin where Athabascan native
With a short summer and lots of tourists, the riverboat folks really have done a nice job organizing the tour to keep things interesting and educational. As was usually the case, at the end of the tour we were led straight into a giant gift shop, on our way to catch a bus back to the hotel. We had our driver let us out at a discount store a couple of miles away so we could buy some T-shirts and some lunch. The walk back to the hotel was lovely, and we found a picnic table outside on the soft grass to have an ersatz picnic.
Friday, August 22 - Our long flight home from Fairbanks through Minneapolis and on to Houston went smoothly. | |
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alaska! part 1 |
sunday, 11/2/2008 |
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I'm a little late putting together a trip summary, but it has been a busy time, and of course Hurricane Ike provided a bit of a distraction for awhile (more on that in a future posting). So, without further adieu:
Sunday, August 10 – All day at sea, so we had plenty of time to explore the ship. All of our previous cruises have been in warm climates, so it was a bit different to need long sleeves or a jacket on deck. The chilly weather was accompanied by heavy cloud cover the entire week, with occasional drizzle. Hence, there were no sunbathers on this cruise, and most people stayed inside unless we were near something scenic. We chose traditional dining at a table of eight for the evenings, so we got to know six fellow travelers pretty well. Jerry and Lucy were a retired military couple from Kansas; Loretta and Mary were daughter and mother from Charleston SC and Shreveport, and Pat and xxx were sisters from Chicago. Loretta was a non-practicing doctor about our age, and the others were all retired.
Wednesday, August 13 – We arrived in Skagway around 7 AM, docking
beside a spur of the White Pass railway – very convenient for those
who had purchased tickets to ride the train up and over White Pass on
the route used by prospectors many years ago. Our plan was to do
something a bit more active, and this time the weather didn’t matter.
We boarded a commercial “water bus” that runs a regular route between
Skagway and Haines, home of an old army fort, and in fairly constant
rain coming from low, heavy clouds, we boarded an old school bus and
headed for Chilkoot Lake, a deep basin of about five square miles
surrounded by mountain peaks and fed by snowmelt, making it ideal for
spawning sockeye salmon who swim in from the ocean and lay eggs in the
sandbars formed by the incoming streams.
Friday, August 15 – We entered College Fjord in the afternoon. The glaciers sliding slowly down the valleys to the sea were even more immense than in Glacier Bay. Once again, the ship stopped for awhile so we could all come on deck and marvel at the immensity of it all. After awhile, the Captain pivoted the ship with the side thrusters so that those who were enjoying the view from their balconies could get a view of both sides.
Our second week in Alaska will be covered in a future installment. | |
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california revisited |
sunday, 5/18/2008 |
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I am always struck by how nice the weather is in coastal central
California. The air is dry, the temperature is pleasant, and I've
never been there when the sun wasn't shining (though they claim
there is a rainy season). We spent our first day in the wine
country, which though it looks the same as always, has finally begun
to monetize the attraction of the place by charging fees for wine
tasting. Some wineries were demanding as much as $25 each for
tasting and
On day two, we headed into the city and found a parking garage near
Union Square, the main shopping district.
On day three, we headed up and over the coastal mountains to the
Pacific Coast highway
and
south to Monterrey, where we found the waterfront made famous by
John Steinbeck
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sailing |
sunday, 4/20/2008 |
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There were only 11 passengers on board along with the captain, who
manned the helm, and the deckhand Sharon, who did all the hard work
of hoisting, adjusting, and lowering sails. It was a lovely way to
spend a couple of hours, sailing out into Galveston Bay and back on
a topsail schooner.
We capped the day off with a couple of exceptional filet mignons, baked potatoes, green salads, and a good bottle of Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon back at the apartment. We had a couple of worthy things to celebrate, including our 29th anniversary and the end of M's daily radiation treatments.
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ms150 |
monday, 4/14/2008 |
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The 13,000 of us on bicycles pedaled our way along. The weather was chilly and windy but the sky was clear blue. I've never seen so many people on bicycles at the same time before. There was never a moment when there was more than a hundred foot gap between me and others. With rest stops every 10 miles or so and a massive lunch operation on the fairgrounds in Bellville, the organizers did a very nice job keeping us all hydrated and fed with minimal waiting time. The days ride was about 80 miles.
We put my bike in the back of the car and drove 20 miles to Smithville, where a friend had offered us her unoccupied house to stay the night. I had eaten at the tent in LaGrange, but M and youngest daughter were hungry, so after showering, we went into town to eat at the Back Door Cafe. Although it was a small place, there was a live band and the food was good. I wasted no time going to bed when we got back to the house.
The
20 mile head start meant that the bicycle traffic heading in to
Austin was much lighter than the day before. Eventually, the sun
began warming things up, and I progressively shed my tights and
windbreaker sleeves along the way. In spite of taking it fairly
easy and stopping at all the rest stops, the miles went by steadily, and I
finally spied the capital dome off in the distance from the
outskirts of the Austin. From there the adrenalin kicked in and I made
my way through backstreets onto Dean Keaton, where we had driven
many times to visit youngest daughter when she was a student at the
University. The route turned onto San Jacinto by the massive football
stadium, then onto MLK Drive where a large crowd of people lined the route
waiting for the riders to roll in. As I pedaled uphill to turn onto
Congress Ave, the cheering and clapping was loud and constant. I turned the
final corner and there was the finish line banner spanning the street,
with the capital rising up just beyond it.
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springtime at caddo |
monday, 3/24/2008 |
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We've driven home the past two weekends after M's Friday morning radiation treatment at the Medical Center. The weather has been sunny and mild, so of course we have taken a lunch out to the lake shack and enjoyed the afternoon on the deck. My parents have come with us both times, and this past weekend, youngest daughter was in for Easter, so she joined us as well.
There were only a few other people on the water, and even fewer back
in the swamp that is called Carter Lake. We arrived there after
making our way through one of my favorite routes - the narrow
cut off of the main river channel now labeled boat road "S", which
has finally been cleared of fallen trees after several years of near
impassibility.
We did see a few great egrets like the one in the photo. They are
such beautiful birds in flight. It is quite common to see one of
these magnificent creatures take flight upon hearing the sound of a
boat approaching. If you are lucky, the bird will glide and fly
under the canopy of trees that mark the boat road just above the
water for many hundreds of yards as you follow behind in the boat.
Even the reptiles and amphibians are stirring on warm days now, and more turtles like this one will be sunning themselves on the driftwood logs that are stranded near the banks of the channels after the water level recedes a bit. As I write tonight, we are back in the city, another day of work gone by, taking care of our worldly needs. My spiritual needs have been satisfied for awhile. | |
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the bullet |
sunday, 3/9/2008 |
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It was a little nippy on Saturday, so we rented a couple of movies and mostly stayed inside. One of my coworkers insisted that we needed to see "Office Space", so we watched it first. They were spot on with some of the universal office annoyances, as anyone who has ever had to work in a cubicle in a big company can attest. I did smile, or even laugh every now and then, but I think my sense of humor has become more selective or subtle with age. It could also be that those who really rave about this movie are pretty unhappy with their jobs and identify with the characters personally or something. No rolling in the floor on this one for me though; maybe because I enjoy my work too much. This afternoon, M and I once again headed down the road for a pleasant afternoon with a plate of quesadillas and a cold one on the deck at the boardwalk. The wind was very brisk, so the cold water imparted just enough chill to make long sleeves comfortable, in spite of the sun. As we were leaving, we stopped long enough near the roller coaster to watch a couple of groups come down the first big plunge. Youngest daughter and I rode this one together on a similar day back in January. That was the day we spotted Tom Delay waiting alone for someone to get off at the ride exit. No paparazzi chasing him anymore. I like how inertia has caused several of the women in the picture to have their hair standing straight up as their heads are accelerating away from where they used to be. | |
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here to stay |
sunday, 3/2/2008 |
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Back on Groundhog Day, I recall that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, foretelling six more weeks of winter weather. I guess that only applies to the Great White North, as spring is clearly here to stay down south. Maybe we should start our own tradition with an "Armadillo Day". We could gauge the coming weather on whether the armadillo expires from the heat that day or not.
After getting showers back at the apartment, we wanted to enjoy the rest of the day outdoors, so we decided to drive down to Kemah for a toddy on the top deck at the Cadillac Bar. We're almost becoming regulars there. It is such a nice place to have a beer or a margarita while watching all the boats going in and out of the yacht basin. | |
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catching up again |
sunday, 2/24/2008 |
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For whatever reason, I'm getting back in the writing mood lately, after a six month hiatus. It isn't that nothing has been happening, so who knows why the muse sings sometimes? Speaking of singing, M and I drove downtown to hear the symphony, a large choir, and several vocal soloists perform Carl Orff's Carmina Burana last night. Like lots of other people who participated in a band program in high school or college, I've performed this piece twice myself. Of course the performance was excellent, with the normally polite crowd whooping and hollering while applauding when it ended. We had box seats this time, so our view was good. We cooked a nice steak dinner with a bottle of pinot noir at the apartment before hand, so it really made for a nice evening.
I had hoped to do some group bicycling on Saturday morning early, but it was just too darn cold; 43F. No use being miserable while exercising. Today things warmed up though. In fact, it reached 85F this afternoon, so after M left for home, I put the bike in the car and headed south to the Texas City Levee, one of my favorite places to ride. The levee is five miles long, and its purpose is to protect the city from the storm surge in case of a hurricane. The out and back distance of 10 miles is a decent warm-up, and with a posted speed limit of 20 mph bicyclists can keep up with the cars. With such lovely weather, lots of people were out enjoying the day, particularly the fishermen. On the way there and back, the motorcycle riders were also out in droves. Next weekend, I hope to ride in a local organized bike ride (Baytown Gator Ride) with several of my coworkers, and hopefully M and youngest daughter. The riding schedule is ramping up in preparation for the two-day Houston to Austin MS-150 in April. This is the biggest bike ride n the country, with participation capped at 13,000. My endurance is not nearly as good as it used to be, probably because of the anti-hypertension medication I take, so I'll just have to take my time. M has been undergoing treatment for stage 2 breast cancer this winter, so our plans have had to be flexible. Since she will be undergoing radiation therapy for six weeks starting in mid March, her physical activities have to be limited. It is fortunate that we have a place to stay here in the city so she can more conveniently receive her treatment at M D Anderson, one of the top cancer treatment centers in the world. We are planning a two week cruise-tour to Alaska in August. The trip includes a cruise from Vancouver, BC up the inside passage, followed by a series of train and bus rides with overnight stops at lodges and hotels from Anchorage to Fairbanks. My vision isn't what it used to be, so I really want to see the last state I haven't traveled in before it declines further. We're going to do this one in style.
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On Monday, I called the apartment manager to see how bad it was, and
they already had power restored, with only minor damage. (Living very
near a hospital has its benefits.) I got a call to return to work to
help get the plant cleaned up, repaired, and ready to restart, so I
headed down early Tuesday morning. The damage was worse and worse as I
drove on. For the last 50 miles, the trees had been largely stripped
of leaves by the wind, and large trees power lines were down
everywhere. When I arrived, I checked the food in my refrigerator, and
it seemed to be edible, which was a good thing, since there were no
stores or gas stations open. We worked the rest of the week on getting
the plant back in operating condition, with a general
come-back-to-work issued for those who could on Friday. The plant
supplied gasoline and food for us until the businesses could get back
to operating. We worked through the weekend and began bringing
operations back online during the following weekend.
Likewise, the 61st street fishing pier was gone;
nothing but stubs of piles a few feet above the surf. We drove toward
the west end of the island, and where the seawall ended, the
destruction was even worse. We only went a couple of miles
before turning around, since it was all the same. We drove back
eastward and parked in front of the Spot, our favorite summer eatery.
They were the first restaurant to open, as always, though their menu
was limited to burgers and bottled drinks as the kitchen was barely
operational. Still, it was nice to find at least a token of normality
amid the chaos. When we finished our lunch, we drove out to where
Broadway and the seawall meet, then turned back west. Here along
the main thoroughfare, the piles of debris were just as high. The
light was oddly bright, as the shade normally provided by the big live
oak trees that line the street was absent. The trees mostly were still
standing, but their near-evergreen leaves were gone, whipped away by
the wind.
starting
at the port in Whittier and running north through Anchorage, then
roughly paralleling the highway through several small towns, passing
by the entrance to Denali National Park, and winding up in Fairbanks
in the center of the state. The major cruise lines have their own
custom railcars for passengers who have reservations for an inland
extension of their vacation, as we did. The cars are very nice -
double decker style with large glass windows curving up overhead
allowing for great views of the scenery passing by. The comfortable
seats are arranged in boot style with groups of four people sharing a
table. On the deck below there is a dining area for those wishing to
purchase a full meal. A small bar on the top deck offers beverages and
snacks.
The
train continued on pleasantly for a few hours through gradually rising
land until we reached Talkeetna, a quaint little place that is just
run-down enough to be quaint. The loads of tourists coming through for
just the three warm months of the year thankfully haven't been enough
to support the building of any sort of corporate retail or eating
establishment. Hence, Nagley's Store is the real deal - a small town
business serving the fishermen, hunters, campers, hikers, kayakers,
rafters, and perhaps a few locals during the brutal months of winter.
The dirt streets reminded me of when we lived in a tiny town in
northeastern Montana when I was only 10 years old. If snow and ice
cover everything for eight or nine months, pavement is a waste of time
and money. Talkeetna is the preferred starting point for mountaineers
planning an ascent of Mount McKinley (Denali), the highest mountain in
North America at 20,320 ft. A small airstrip at the edge of town is
home to the bush pilots who ferry the intrepid
adventurers
and their gear many miles further onto the lower slopes of the mammoth
mountain. After walking both sides of the hundred yards of the main
street, we settled in at a little outdoor cafe for a moose burger and
a pint of Alaskan Amber, a remarkably decent beer brewed down in
Juneau. When our appointed departure time arrived in early afternoon,
we boarded a bus for a ride up the highway to the McKinley
Princess Wilderness Lodge, a well kept collection of two-story lodging
buildings nestled around a main lodge perched on a ridge with a
magnificent view of Mount McKinley out back. With several restaurants,
gift shop, pub, and even free internet access, it was no concern that
there was no other civilization in the vicinity. Since we would be
here for two nights, we signed up for a guided hike the next day,
willing participants in the master plan of the cruise companies to
extract as much money as possible from their guests every day for
"added enjoyment."
The
main sport at the McKinley Wilderness lodge is waiting and hoping the
mountain will emerge from the ever present cloud cover that obscures
the peak 80 percent of the time - clouds formed by the condensation of
the updrafts caused by the immensity and height of the peak itself.
The front desk will call you in your room when the mountain comes out
if you ask them to put you on the list. This could happen in the wee
hours, since there are only a few hours of darkness here in the
summer. We would not be so lucky on our arrival day.
Our
guide, a college student from Palmer, a small town down the road, was
very knowledgeable about the flora and fauna and stopped many times to
have us pick the blueberries, strawberries, cranberries, and
crowberries and sample them. we stopped atop a long ridge for lunch
surrounded by a magnificent view of river valley and mountains, with
Denali still shrouded, but with the cloud cover getting thinner over
the peak.
We
capped off the day with another splendid late dinner, this time with
Jerry and Lucy from the ship, who had just caught up to us on their
slightly different itinerary.
This
actually works out
quite
well, since the driver is also a tour guide, and in our case was quite
knowledgeable and clearly loved his job. The bus made several stops
for viewing, but the only large animals we would see on this beautiful
day were some sheep way up on a ridge. As we went deeper into the
park, we stopped at a replica of a homestead cabin, complete with a
woman dressed in period clothes, who described how early pioneers got
by in such a wild environment. At another
stop, we walked down a path onto the tundra and gathered around a
native elder who spends the winters at a remote northern village
living mostly in the old tribal ways. He talked to us and demonstrated
various tools and clothes needed
for survival. On the way back down
the road, the bus pulled into the park staff residence area, where we
were led to the dog kennel area. The park rangers depend on sled
dogs rather than snowmobiles for getting around in the remote areas in
the winter, since dogs have a greater range and a great sense of
direction. A team was hitched up, and they ran off happily dragging a
sled and a musher around a gravel track used to keep the dogs in shape
in the summer months. When we got back to the lodge, we gathered our
things and headed to the train station to await the afternoon special
on into Fairbanks. Once again, the train ride was quite pleasant, with
the exception of the older woman who was in charge of getting
passengers to commit to dinner on the bottom deck. We were enjoying an
Alaskan Amber and seeing the sights, and when we asked if we could
maybe eat later, she scowled at us and never came back. Oh well,
after a week of cruising, we weren't exactly on the verge of
starvation. When we arrived in Fairbanks at (you guessed it) the
Fairbanks Princess Lodge, we had a late dinner in the restaurant
there.
Thursday,
August 21 - Our cruise tour included a full day of activities in
Fairbanks. We left the hotel after breakfast to board a bus for the
Discovery Riverboat tour on the Chena River. The sternwheeler is a
rather large boat for a relatively small river,
with
four decks loaded with people. The cruise down the river
included live demonstrations by pilots in two different small float
planes, which many Alaskans seem to own almost like we own cars. In
fact, the Fairbanks airport has a runway that is nothing more than a
long narrow pond built specifically to accommodate these planes. In
winter, the pontoons are replaced by skis, and the water runway
becomes an ice runway. 
As
we made our way downriver, our guide filled us in on who lived in the
houses along the banks, and how Alaskans are very used to and
accepting of independent and eccentric people.
The
standard philosophy is live and let live. At one point, we passed an
open space along the bank with a couple of dozen dog houses for sled
dogs. This would be the home of the late four-time Iditarod
champion Susan Butcher. The boat stopped, and the folks on shore
hitched up a team of dogs to a "summer sled" made of an old ATV with
no engine. The dogs took off and pulled the contraption around a
dirt track for us. 
Dixie
Alexander showed her impressive leather, fur, and and beadwork
clothing. At the next stop, we heard about the local wildlife as we
sat in front of a pen of caribou. We moved on from there to another
sled dog demonstration, this time up close with their trainer. An
interesting fact about these dogs is that they are not a pure breed -
they are simply chosen and bred to favor big paws, long furry tails,
strength, and heart.
Finally,
we gathered back near the shore where Dixie made another appearance to
explain how salmon are caught in a fish wheel, cleaned, and smoked.
She is very handy with a filet knife!
After
lunch, we once again boarded a bus to take us to our next tourist
adventure, the El Dorado Gold Mine. As we headed north, the bus
stopped at a viewing site where the trans Alaska Pipeline comes up out
of the ground to avoid melting the permafrost. After a half hour of
looking and reading plaques, we were off again to the mine. A cute
little train is used to ferry the several busloads of people through a
permafrost tunnel, near a steam operated ore hauler, and on to a
working sluice where the operators dump a load of ore into the box,
then release a torrent of water from a lake up the hill to wash the dirt over the long narrow channel, the idea being that the gold will
be concentrated in the early part of the contraption. After the
sluice
demonstration, we were led through a tunnel where everyone got a small
bag of dirt to try our own luck at panning. Everyone was guaranteed to
find some gold, or they could get another bag. We all made our
way under a big shed where long troughs of water flanked by benches
with empty pans awaited us. Several people came around to help with
the technique so that we wouldn't lose our gold with the dirt. There
is a trick to it, and both M and I ended up with shiny flecks of gold
in our pans. When we had no dirt left, we were given plastic film
containers with lids to store our gold in. Of course the route to the
bus ran through the gift shop / jewelry store / snack bar. Several
people waited behind the counter to weigh our gold, then talk us into
putting it into some form of amulet, attached to a necklace, bracelet,
or earrings. It does make a unique gift, so we dutifully paid
for our personalized gold holders.
Saturday,
August 9 – We got up very early to fly from Houston to Vancouver via
Calgary. Our first plane had issues and was late leaving, and this
added with the need to go through customs in Calgary caused us to miss
our second plane. Air Canada did a good job of hustling us onto
another flight, so we were with the last busload of passengers taken
from the airport, through the middle of Vancouver to our ship, the
Sapphire Princess. The bus ride turned out to be a harbinger of things
to come since everyone in the business of toting tourists around also
doubles as a tour guide. The tips they get from curious passengers no
doubt exceed their hourly wages. The ship was very nice as cruise
ships go – large, modern, and well kept. Our stateroom for this trip
was on a higher deck with a balcony on the starboard side, since we
anticipated lots of scenery along the inside passage. 
Monday, August 11 – We arrived at daybreak in Ketchikan and watched
from the balcony as the ship was docked and the
gangway set in place.
We had arranged in advance for a float plane trip to the Misty Fjords
area for sightseeing, but the heavy clouds grounded all the planes, and
about all we were able to do was walk about the port area and look
around in the stores. We found some souvenirs at Tongass Trading
Company, and I bought a pair of watercolors of the Aurora Borealis by
a young local artist of Japanese descent in an area set aside for
local arts and crafts. The Alaska retailers are careful to distinguish
locally produced arts and crafts from the mass produced Asian imports
- a nice idea. The ship left port at 2 PM, and I had set up a
one hour massage onboard for M in the afternoon for her birthday.
I, on the other hand, spent an hour in the casino playing blackjack to
pay for the massage. Overall, our luck was good at the tables, with a
net gain of a couple of hundred dollars for the week.
Tuesday,
August 12 – The ship arrived in Juneau at 8 AM, and once again the
weather was socked in with heavy clouds and sporadic drizzle. Our
planned helicopter tour and glacier hiking expedition were in doubt,
and when we finally got word from the outfitter that helicopters and
planes were grounded, we found a hawker of whale watching tours and
signed up. Juneau, like some other coastal Alaskan towns, is
accessible only by boat or plane. No roads connect through the rugged
terrain to the outside world, but there is a nice highway, all of 15
miles long, that allows the residents to commute from one end of the
community to the other. A bus took us to the small boat harbor, and
away we went on the Orca Odysea with Captain Larry, whose grizzled
appearance lent extra credibility to his experienced old-timer label.
We
spent the next two or three hours watching humpback whales breaching
every few minutes as they performed a maneuver called bubble net
feeding, where they work as a group to corral a school of herring in a
cylinder of bubbles, then lunge from below with their mouths open to
scoop up the small fish who have fled to the surface in fright. As
wild whale watching goes, our guides assured us that this was quite a
treat. 
Decked
out in raingear, we squeezed into two and three person kayaks and
paddled off into an amazing world of natural beauty. We found some
salmon, being careful to not disturb the sand in the shallow areas,
and we spied several bald eagles perched in the spruce and fir trees.
After returning to the put-in point, we ate sandwiches and drank hot
chocolate under a pavilion, then boarded the old bus for the ride back
to Haines. As we approached a fish counting weir that is constructed
across the river someone spied a grizzly, or as Alaskans call them, a
brown bear lumbering out of the water toward us. We stopped and waited
as it walked by, not paying us much attention. My cold camera lens had
fogged in the 100% humidity of the warm bus, so I missed my one wild
bear spotting opportunity. The trip back to Skagway on the water bus
was quiet, and we arrived in time to go have a beer at the Red Onion
Saloon before returning to the ship. 
Thursday,
August 14 – The ship entered Glacier Bay National Park around
midmorning, and most of the passengers came out onto the high decks
for better viewing. A Park Service naturalist came on board to tell us
what we were seeing. Glacier Bay is surrounded on every side by
glaciers coming down from the ice fields above. The tidewater glaciers
that come all the way down to the ocean before calving are
spectacular. The ship came to a stop for awhile as we waited for walls
of ice to spall off and crash into the water. Only one large ship is
allowed into the bay at a time, so we moved on after a couple of
hours.
Saturday,
August 16 – We arrived in Whittier, which because of favorable
year-round ice-free conditions and less difficult navigation obstacles
(the Exxon Valdez captain might argue) is now the main large ship port
for Anchorage. Disembarking from a large cruise ship is never a fast
process, since the logistics of getting 3000 people and their luggage
sorted to the right destinations are daunting. Overall, they do a nice
job, and waiting in one of the ship’s many lounges in comfortable
chairs was not too difficult. We finally boarded a bus to begin the
land portion of our two-week odyssey. The road to the port comes
through a very long tunnel that has only one vehicle lane, since it
was an add-on to the railroad tunnel that was built first. On the road
to Anchorage, the bus
stopped at a wildlife preserve that gave us all a taste of the animals
we might see in
the wild if we kept our eyes open. The bus next took
us to the native Alaskan cultural heritage center, a very well
designed facility on the edge of Anchorage that functions as a museum
for artifacts, a performance area for native groups to demonstrate
songs and dances, an arts and crafts area for native artists to create
and sell their goods, and an outdoor recreation of the various styles
of houses used to endure the long hard winters. I noticed a plaque on
a wall honoring Senator Ted Stevens, he of pork barrel spending fame.
For me at least, this center seemed like a decent thing to spend
taxpayer money on compared to many others. We finally loaded up once
more for the trip into downtown for our first night in a land based
hotel. We were dropped at the Captain Cook, named of course in honor
of the British explorer who sailed into these parts as he did so many
others. A big arts and crafts festival was underway nearby, so we
perused the booths for more souvenirs, ending up with a bottle of
Birch syrup and a nice carving of wood spirits in a piece of local
wood. Since it was light until very late, we were in no big hurry and
finally found a restaurant / pub to have a nice late dinner in.
The
whole family was together for a few days when M and I and youngest
daughter flew out to San Jose to visit the west coast kids. Adding a
friend and boyfriend to the group, seven of us had three full and
two partial days to tour around in a minivan. We found good food in
Palo Alto, wine in Napa shopping and walking in San Francisco, and
wildlife in Monterrey, with enough beds for everyone at the house in
Redwood City..
tour, and as you might expect, their parking lots were
rather empty. Oldest daughter recommended that we go to
We split up with the shoppers heading off into Macy's and M, son and I exploring outside.
When we met up in an hour or so, we all headed off toward Pier 39, a
walk of about 2 miles up and over Nob Hill through the edge of
Chinatown. After strolling about and, watching the sea lions, we
hiked back to Union Square, and while the shoppers did their thing
in Loehman's, the non-shopping three of us walked around the corner
and found Murphy's Pub,
a
nonassuming little place with a friendly bartender a cook waiting
for hungry customers, and cold beer on tap. Very nice indeed. It
reminded me of all the pubs we frequented in London when across the
pond because the food was good, the beer was fresh, and the price
was right.
as "Cannery Row." The old canneries have become
trinket shops now, and there is a modern aquarium right there on the bayfront, so we stopped in to have a look. The aquarium is
particularly focused on sea otters, which almost died out along the
pacific coast from overzealous fur traders. They are making a
comeback now, and like other amphibious sea creatures, you can tell
they're near by the smell. After the aquarium, we had a nice seafood
dinner (I know, it seems wrong to eat fish after going to the
aquarium), then headed for the car. Since we were already in the
vicinity, we headed further south into the coastal parkland that
runs beside the Pebble Beach golf course. The dirve is very scenic,
with big, old trees on shore and rocks covered with birds, otters,
seals, and who knows what else emerging out of the surf. We snapped
obligatory pictures at the lone cypress on the rock of course. The
houses along the way were of course spectacular.
The
weather on Saturday was once again lovely, so M and I headed out
around 10 AM to be out in it. Our plan, if you can call it one, was
roughly to fiddle around and have lunch at the Cadillac Bar & Grill
in Kemah on the deck before the masses descended on the place in the
afternoon. Walking from the car, we found a shop advertising sailing
trips, and we ducked inside to inquire
about the boat. We were
directed to a slip in the nearest marina, where we found the Captain
Kidd. The marina is restricted access, so we called the phone
number from a cell phone as a guy was tidying up on the deck of the
boat. M saw the guy reach into his pocket as I called, so when he
answered, I said, "I think we're standing right in front of the boat
if you'd rather talk in person."
He looked and pointed, and we had a
laugh.
It
turned out they were booked for the 3 PM sailing, but we could get
on board for the noon trip. It was 11:45, so we walked back to
the car to get hats and found the gate to get in the marina.
The water is still cool enough that it is just comfortable with
short sleeves and long pants in the sunshine with a nice breeze out
from shore. When we returned to the slip, M and I headed off to our
original destination, the Cadillac Bar & Grill, to have a margarita
for her and a Dos Equis Amber for me up on the deck. We had some
Tacos al Carbon for lunch and waved as the Captain Kidd set out
again for the 3 PM outing.
Life
will get back to our more routine schedule of alternating weekends
between the city and our home. But more adventures are on the way,
with a trip to California to see the other kids beginning May 7, and
our two-week Alaska trip in August.
Youngest daughter flew in from Austin on Friday evening, and all three
of us got up at 4 AM in order to get to the starting line for the
Some of my coworkers started the ride in a location 20 miles further
into Houston, so I met up with M and youngest daughter in LaGrange
and we found our team tent and relaxed with some food and beer. The
others showed up in a couple of hours, having had some mechanical
problems and trying to regroup. Around 5 PM, we split up to head for
our various overnight accommodations.
We were up at 5 AM for the second day, and my legs felt surprisingly
good. The temperature was only 42F, so I put on tights and a
windbreaker to start out in. Only a couple hundred of us started out
at the official alternate sunrise start nearby at Riverbend Park
just on the edge of town on the Colorado River. Most of the rest
started out day 2 at the LaGrange fairgrounds, which must have been
a zoo.
The time was a little before noon,
and the 50 miles of day two, which I had worried might be too much
for my old tired body after the brutal distance of day one, were done. I
continued on around the block where volunteers tried to hand me
bottles of water, but I quickly found what I was really thirsting for
- the sight of M and youngest daughter, who each had a big hug to give me.
We took the little boat out for the first time this year,
with cameras in hand. The water
level is fairly high, which is normal for springtime, so it was easy
to make our way into the back waters of the swamp, where things are
quiet, and the animals feel safe. The lake has unfortunately been
infested with 
The
bald cypress trees are always late putting on leaves in spring and
early losing their leaves in fall. With mostly tree bark and
Spanish moss above water level, grey is the dominant color - a
difficult photo subject to deal with in mid-day sunlight. Soon that
will change though, and green will be the order of the day, with
plenty of dense foliage to create variations of light and shadow
that make for interesting images.
The
visiting canoeists, who often put in on the back side of this
cypress swamp and would rather not hear the sound of a boat motor,
will be disappointed at the easier access. Boat road "S" intersects
the more well traveled "C" boat road in the heart of the swamp, and
"C" completes the route back to the main channel upstream of "S"
about a half mile, or if you take it the other direction, runs all
the way back to the main body of the north shore of Caddo Lake for
many miles and on into Louisiana.
Eventually,
it will tire of this erstwhile game of follow-the-leader and will
land on a sturdy tree limb off to the side somewhere. Photographing
these birds in flight from a moving boat is a bit of a challenge,
but I finally have camera equipment that should be up to the task,
so it is only a matter of spending enough time out there.
M
rolled in Saturday and will be here for six weeks of daily radiation
treatments, telecommuting for work with a phone and a laptop
computer from the apartment. Actually, this will eliminate some
driving as our normal pattern of alternating weekends traveling back
and forth will be altered to the alternate plan of both of us
staying here on alternate weekends. Or something like that...
The
conditions were really nice for the Gator Ride on Saturday, with a
low temperature of 60 and a high of 78. Best of all, there was very
little wind for the initial 12 miles up over the ship channel on the
Fred Hartman Bridge and back across the channel on the
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