School Begins

When stepping into the Beaver last week, I turned my head and took one last long look at Valhalla Lodge. John, the caretaker and his faithful companion Kayak, sat on the porch of the cabin I had considered home for the length of the summer. The moment I got into the plane I felt the change. A new chapter was beginning and the old chapter was wrapping up lose ends and elegantly setting the stage for what was next.

My time in Anchorage was more fulfilling this go around. I was able to walk through Earthquake Park and see the Art Museum downtown. I was on foot, but the ability to walk around without the fear of bears and/or straying to far from camp was none existent and that meant I could walk miles without stopping. It was liberating.

I stopped at two local breweries, The Sleeping Lady Brewery and the Glacier Brewery, which were extremely enjoyable. Then to close the night out I caught the bus back to Chris's house. At the bus depo, I was caught off guard on how scary it was. As it was getting dark the locals did not look friendly or well kept. I was glade that I looked on the slightly rugged side from walking all day.

The flight to Oregon was almost unbearable. For some reason I was completely impatient, the girl I was sitting by didn't help much either. She irritated me so that I focused on everything she said, analyzing and finding fallacies in every argument she made. Terrible, I know, very shallow of me, but it was almost uncontrollable. I justified my behavior by saying that Bill Bryson sometimes rants on the stupidity of others in his books so I couldn't be that bad, I mean Bill seemed like an all right guy, but there is my ill form of logic for you, ironic I know.

So, now for the main reason I wanted to write this blog. I'm back in school and so far I am loving it. I am so glade to have gotten back and just haven't stopped moving since I got of the plane. It makes me focused and in control of my future. When I have to much open time I tend to loss some focus and the lines of rationality are blurred. But as of my mind feels sharp and my spirits high.

So I only have 12 more days tell my flight, 10 more days at the lodge, move into new place in 16 days and 17 more days tell school starts. I've already started reading my book for institutional economics, The Theory of Business Enterprise by Veblen, interesting very interesting. My old roommate from last year gave me a call and said I could have her room, which takes the weight of finding a place as I come rolling into Oregon. Its for sure that I'll hit the ground running, but I'll have a place to stay the day before school starts and my stuff is in storage like two blocks away. Perfect, I love how that worked out.

Things at the lodge have been going great except for a fluke week which seemed as if nothing could go right, like some cosmic correction was being enforced . Our lovely guest Jim and William were subjected to an upheaval of events that started on the first day of this month. To say the least, we all came out the other end in one piece and thats all that really matters.

The Helio is down for the count. Kirk had an unexpected emergency landing on the tundra, but everyone walked away. A trooper, some bear sightings and prints (I'm not jogging anymore on the trail for sure now), flat tires and just general stress pumped through our veins.

Here are some pictures of the fishing trip with Chris. More like he went fishing and we watched, but I did manage to hook a grayling at one point.

The streams are infested with sockeye salmon and their now washing up on the beach in front of the lodge.

Grayling I caught.

Erin is holding some king boletes. Yes, I know the ones on the ground are poisonous but trust me the ones she's holding are delicious.

oh darn, I thought this was the good picture of the bears. Well that dot is a bear.

Homemade wine day. We opened it for Jeremy, a wonderful man from Britain, but found that it was very alcoholic.

Chopping wood. I've done a little bit of everything this summer. You should see my sanding and staining job on the cabins.

I have enjoyed my time here and have debated asking if I have a job next summer. For how crazy it can get here there is some kind of happiness I get from being cut off from the world. I love the fact I haven't been in a store for over three months, buying useless things that I just want but don't need. The crazy thing is, as most of you who know me will concur, that I don't shop that much in general anyways and that not stepping into a store for three months would be easy for me, but yet it oddly has become a fascinating endeavor that I long for. The idea of getting a mango when I want one sounds amazing or having a cup of coffee in a coffee shop and people-watching sounds like another roadside attraction that just veers you of the road suddenly.

It reminds me slightly of how it felt after the five days of being in the woods by myself. Oddly enough, I can remember spending a whole hour just thinking about a lemon blueberry muffin and how great it would taste. To tell you the truth I thought a lot about food up there in the woods for those seven days and could even taste it if I thought about it long enough, but as I recall when I got back I don't think I ever did eat most of the things I swore I would reward myself with when I was up there. I just remember the lemon-blueberry muffin and the first cup of coffee.

Here, I think about how many people I'll see when I get back. It's going to be weird to go from seeing only about ten people a week (and thats calculated by the 4 I see 24/7, the 2 garbage people I see twice a week if we're lucky and the 2-4 guest we may or may not have) and then seeing forty people in a classroom starting in 17 days! How will I adjust?

I love that I haven't seen cars driving on roads or more then a handful of people in a week and I know that I will long for this once I step of the plane in portland, but I think I'm ready to start school again, at least I hope I am. Other things I love : planes overhead, passing geese on the lake, the changing to fall, the take off in the morning, being in a float plane take off, the leaves blowing around, the sudden drastic change of weather here, the three day a week excitement for the mail, the four-wheeler, boat rides, seafood chowder night, new guest, lunch bag decorations, and last but not least room and board.

There is one thing though that I realized I wish I could have with this solitude and that is a companion (ironic right?), but I think thats just me blowing of steam from the occasional misunderstandings/conflicts between all of us here at the lodge. Not that I don't love everyone here because oddly enough they have become a sort of family to me, just that I wonder how it would be to plan to do something like this with someone, instead of running of on my own and just taking the chance of the draw of who I land with.

I guess the most important person I'll be planning things with is the person I chose to hike the pacific crest with me. Man, I've been thinking about that like no other. It appears that if I get my degree done by the fall of 2010, I can start the hike March of 2011 which means there isn't much time to find someone that wants to set aside 6 months of their lives to disappear into the woods, but hopefully I'll find them. I know they must be out there somewhere.

So what's really interesting is the phenomenology of these experiences of isolation (The Yukon River camp, the seven day/forty mile hike by myself, and Valhalla lodge) and what they have made me conclude about the nature of being. I think number one is that if I had no knowledge of the lemon-blueberry muffin, I would not desire one. So if I had no clue that Fred Myers was an everything store, I'd end up shopping at many different stores I guess. Knowledge is power but absolute power corrupts absolutely, so all knowledge maybe absolute corruption? St. Augustine would agree that it would be good to reframe from desires but since first you need the knowledge of the desire to know that you want it in the first place, I think that, yes, there is no doubt in my mind I'm a product of society.

Number two is that the pace of my stream of conscience can be drastically alerted when the largest form of entertainment/excitement becomes the traffic on Six Mile Lake (geese, village boats, spawning sockeyes, Magpies and varies other wildlife). What I find entertaining and interesting has thus become a breeze that touches, a sound of a rodent, a smell of the changing seasons, a sunset that highlights the mountains, and the taste of a silver salmon fresh from the streams. Basically just my five sense running on a slower beat then that of my constantly desired stimulated state of my civilized life.

Number three, which I think is a combination of both one and two with a added conclusion, I love the duality of my life (not to get Dacartes on you by no means, I do not think there is a separation between body and soul). But on the contrary, I love isolation as much as I love the random influx of people around me. The predictable and the surprising part of life. The cold and the hot. The bland and the spice. The comfortable and awkward. South, North, East and West, Time and Space, love and hate. But the state I desire the most and fill with joy when it graces me with its presences, is that of clarity which I am blessed with as I type this.

Plane Ride

So yesterday I got to ride in the Heli to the Moraz where I was able to see some brown bears from the plane. We crossed Lake Iliamna and let me tell you that lake was huge! I mean it seemed like a ocean getting across it in that little float plane. We could see some fresh water sea lions and a caribou in the tundra. When flying over the Moraz, I saw a lot of bears charging after the sockeyes that were just everywhere. I mean there was just so many of those fish I could not believe it. You could just reach in and grab them with your "bear hands;)"
Anyways, when we landed on funnel creek, I hopped out to go get the boys and was amazed when I looked at the river up close. There was just so many salmon and the crazy thing is, they just turn red spawn and then die up there. The guys aren't even fishing for those things. Their going after trout.
Today we went up the Taz and I caught a grayling and Chris caught a few trout. Oh, and I got to try driving the boat!

The smoke came in this morning, the fires from interior Alaska have been billowing down the range, making an erie scenery, prefect for the set of Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow. The last few days have been beautiful. I collected about a pound of blueberries in the tundra and stumbled upon a King Bolete (there are three types of boletes on the back trail here that I have stumbled upon and been able to identify, the Birch Bolete, Orange Birch Bolete and the much loved King Bolete). I cooked up the King Bolete for lunch and Liza waited for me to get sick, thinking that I had picked the wrong one, but knowing it instantly when it caught the corner of my eye there was little fear that it was the wrong one.  It was in fact very delicious and, no, I did not get sick. I've been able to take a few nice swims which I will be doing today after I'm done typing this up and a few short jogs here and there.

What else, you ask? Oh the usual, writing, painting, guitar and the like of creativity that comes flowing through me finger tips and is channeled by the unseen force The Muse, her fickle but yet conducive satisfaction that she gives to those that persistently nag her for attention. I did recently, Friday night, get into slight trouble with those at the lodge.

The night began like any other. The possibility to watch a movie was suggested, I looked long and hard at me story I've been writting (a piece of fiction that reminds me of a decent try at a Tom Robbins novel), painting yet another picture of the lodge for John the caretaker, but I left all these projects to try and make phone calls to see if anyone out there in the world would talk to me but it never happened. 

As I walked into the lodge late Friday night I was caught off guard by Captain Kirk's over abundant presence. He had started early with whiskey, as he had failed to make it to dinner that night. The clients were leaving in the morning and Kirk had decided the few days sobriety needed to be washed away. I had also had a beer that night that was left by one of the guest. Beer is a commodity that is few and far between for me. Yes, I probably could have the beer in the bar, but it seems like a waste of time and empty calories. Its not like having one of my home brews with a friend or trying a new beer from a independent brewer or something, beer is just a drink that is here to fuel the Captain's mouth into motion. 

To say the least, I was interested in seeing what it was like hanging with the Capt. when he got into one of his moods. Story after story of fishing, hunting and flying came out of his mouth strung together with prefect belligerent elegance that the time began to pass with little notice. It was rolling on 3 am and Captain advised me that instead of cutting the night short, I was obliged to finish the night off with him. It was hard for me to protest. He was my boss and it was fun to listen and converse with him, but I sensed that the crew would be very anger at me in the morning. 

I was in fact being an enabler by sitting and indulging Captain's ego by letting him soak in nostalgic memories of the lodges previous days, stories about bears, UFO's, Mt. Douglas, his mentor, mountain goat hunts, wolfs and his comforting words about Lakota. It was five now and I knew this was not good.

To say the least, Chris and Liza were pissed. Chris at me and Liza at Kirk and most likely me though she wouldn't admit it. But I have to say, it was a lot of fun! I mean, the stories and the atmosphere was just to cool. I love the lodge here and the people, with little "buts" involved. Pretty fun, I really just hope in time they forgive me even though it was totally worth the anger. 

Lets just say it sort of reminds me of a science experiment. Those group test they preform on individuals to see how they behave in isolation or confinement with others. I'm wondering how I'm doing or how I appear to be doing to the observers. Do they think I'm a loon? The weakest link or am I the stable rock they'd cling to if things got messy? Am I the problem solver or the problem creator? 

Its difficult to self analyze for when I do try and figure it out, where I stand that is, because once I get passed "do they not think I'm doing a good job?" I realize its all probably just nerves and annoyances. I get the job done and I try not to bug anyone to much.

The wind hasn't really let up. Its claim in the morning and then windy by noon. The jogs have been getting less because the rain has muddied up the trail and made it very dangerous to run on. I've almost twisted an ankle twice now. I've been doing cartwheels in the lawn and stretching like I did in the good old dance of Jazz and Tap. 

Last week, Chris, John and I were left at the lodge for five days. To say the least we made it out the other end with out killing one another or burning down the lodge.

Deja Vu

So no real big news to report except for this strange uncanny feeling I received this morning. Michelle and I were cleaning out the rooms after the guest had taken off, and as we were working on the second room Kirk came flying back above the lodge. As Michelle and I began to hurriedly clean so we wouldn't be in the rooms when they returned, I wondered frantically about all the reasons they were returning so soon, they had only left maybe an hour previously. Racing from one side of the room to the other, I picked a bath robe from off the floor and proceeded to try and hang it and then it hit me. 

Deja Vu. The whole thing, the robe, the room, the lake, the Beaver (float plane) all of this had been experienced before. This was not a new moment for me but one that I was repeating. I searched my mind for something that gave reason to the feeling, but being in such a new place I was at a loss, until the memory came sliding into my frontal cortex. It was in a dream I had many years ago about some pilots and planes coming back home early from something as I hurriedly tried to finish what I was doing. It is seriously uncanny how vivid and accurate the dream was to reality. I must have dreamt sometime in Portland the first time or when I had just moved back to Logsden. 

I had to post something about it or I'd forget it ever happened, like so many memories that have fallen by the wayside because I have failed to keep them alive with such passionate remembrance. The mind, such an amazing thing. I had always hoped it was more like a filing cabinet, where I could have realizations that would be nicely filled in such a way that when needed it be readily on file to either explain my behavior or help support the reasons behind my behavior, but I find that to be less and less accurate the further I get away from previous realizations (well, except for 'don't touch the stove because its hot' that one really has stayed the same). I find things I have written or painted that I find hard to believe that I came up with let along did. 

Once the art is out of the mind, does it ever really belong to you? Art just an abstracted version of a conversation with oneself.  

Well, it had been a long week for Captain Kirk. The German's had taken a lot out of him. Next to getting a 200 dollar ticket for not logging one of the trips they had taken, the German's had wanted to go see bears and I guess this is Kirk's least favorite active, probably because it doesn't involve as much fishing and a instructional video that he has probably watched countless times over the years. But he endured his distaste for the activity and made it through and the day that the Germans left Kirk proceeded to get wasted and in the process get Erin and I a little intoxicated with him (that may be an understatement). 

After having a glass of wine myself, I of course got the brilliant idea I always get when I am staring at a big body of water, I had the urge to jump in. Looking around I asked nicely if Erin or Liza we're interested in accompany me in the water and to my great surprise Liza was up to the challenge. We raced inside to change and in no time we were waiting by the waters edge getting ready to charge in the icy cold water, Liza, LadyBell and I. We swam for a few minutes throwing the ball around for LadyBell, giggling and laughing at our spontaneous adventure. We got out walking up to Kirk and Erin who were our audience, waiting at the waters edge with towels, but we did not last long and in minutes we were back in the water, giggling and smiling at the youth gumption. Cold water is amazing. It is bearable but it slowly gets under skin, dropping the temperature of your bones. I didn't feel extremely cold when I got out but heating back up was almost impossible on my own and left the party on the porch to take a very hot shower. 

As the hours passed, the group got smaller and smaller, Liza went to bed. Brady and Chris were only there for a second or two before sneaking off and John had stayed far away from the porch the whole time, he had already experience Captains drinking qualifications. Liza had told us that we could leave anytime if Captain started to annoy us, but since Erin and I had not heard all of the stories he was continuing on and on about we were fine, but boy he can drink and talk and did I mention dance as well? Yep, at around 2 o'clock we decided to dance to Mile Davis all around the lounge lighting a fire and waking up Liza in the process, which I of course am crossing my fingers that she isn't to mad at us about, but it seems that everyone is sort of use to this type of behavior from the Kirk. 

All and all a very fun night that I enjoyed a lot. I'll post a picture or two later. 

So almost a month in next week. We have five guest right now from Austria, very nice and friendly guest. The son of the head guy of the group got his Ph.D in Economics from a school in Vienna. His thesis paper was the ethic's of consciences, so I was very thrilled to get to talk to him. His favorite philosopher is Schopenhauer so I'm reading a clip-it from The World as Will and Representation to try and impress him but its kind of hard with the language bearer. Not saying that this group isn't fluent in english, but sometimes the accent is so thick its hard to decipher. 

Once I got into the routine here I have been doing pretty well. I find that staying in one place doesn't bother me much. I can sit in the same spot for hours and stare at the wall entertaining myself with some philosophical thought or just running over some scene of the past that I throughly enjoyed not to say I am nostalgic. Nostalgia and me have not gotten along so well in the past few years. I feel it has abandoned me in some way, leaving me indifferent about so many things that once moved me. What has been my biggest problem is taking naps during the day, which basically rob me of my day and mess up my schedule.  

Ladybell and I laid on the porch as I read her some Sartre, Existentialism is Humanism, a very good description of how existentialism should be read and understood as. I remember reading this selection a few years back, trying my hardest to rap my head around philosopher's mumbo-jumbo. This time it has been very easy. I can read it and follow his train of thought, digging deep under the surface about what is and isn't existentialism.

My exercise routine has been that of almost every other day I take a jog on the landing strip. A back and forth jog from one end to the other about three times, making a nice jog that is around four miles. I'm not to scared of bears like I was last year jogging on the pipeline, but now I have to watch out for planes. The other day one snuck up behind me. It was a huge plane, looked like the one in Casablanca black on the bottom and white on the top from Desert Air. You would figure I'd hear it since my music isn't to loud and those planes are loud to begin with, but to my surprise when I turned around to see this huge plane coming towards me I was just thankful that I run on the sidelines because that things wing seemed right over head even though I was of the airstrip. Its pretty exciting to watch these small jets take off while I'm jogging just as much fun as it is to watch the clients take off with Kirk in the beaver in the morning.

Talking about take offs, the routine is set here. I wake up and make the coffee, waiting tell 7 to wake up the guest. I have to walk into the rooms even if their still sleeping which has been pretty interesting and I'd love to write about it here, but I figure I should just hold off on that. This is a public site after all. Then I do laundry or dishes, waiting for the guest to come in so I can serve them. After that is done they leave to get ready to go fishing for the day as I prepare the lunch and coffees that they'll be taking with them. At around 9, Kirk takes off like clock work and Liza, Erin and me all watch as they take off in the Beaver. I then clean the rooms and take my afternoon break at around 11. Then around 5:30 or so we listen patiently to hear some changes in the surrounding area just waiting for a slight hum that we can concluded is the boys returning home. I hope to be able to detect as well as Liza the different sounding planes by the end of the summer or at least  be able to tell a boat from a plane. 

  The last few days have been well into the 70's and even once in the 80's. Its been a little hot for jogging but now I'm taking a swims instead. I swim back and forth in front of the lodge. 

The top  layer of the water is bearable but the moment I dive down as little as a foot my head is bombarded by the rush of icy cold water that takes away my breath and freezes my brain. I stay on the top layer of water to say the least. 

My favorite time of the day is napkin folding time. I really like getting creative and making fun napkin folds. This one is a swan and though the Austrian's weren't that impressed Kirk was, and thats all that mattered.

We take these boat rides to Nondalton which are very enjoyable. Its nice to get out of the lodge every once and awhile to go get the mail though as I said before I can sit in the same place entertaining myself for as long as I want. But though this is the 6th or 7th picture of these same mountains, they are worth every megabit upload.  I find the mountains to be just breath taking. They seem to disappear into infinity. I think I might paint this soon.

It feels that my jogs and the boat rides have been my only quite times in retrospect, the boat ride only because its too loud to talk when your on it. I tried to make it apparent the first few days that I enjoy my alone time but just like any small confined area with only 6 other people it is hard to get away from everyone because everyone knows where to find you and everyone talks to themselves in some form or another. Its not as blunt as a person holding a conversation with themselves but we find ourselves telling unrelated stories or things that just pop into our heads as we batter back and forth about nothing, what we are doing step by step or will do for that matter and everything in between. 

The real question is do I really want to be alone in thought? I would say yes, but yet I check my email and my facebook quite often to a point where it seems to be a thoughtless task or a habitual reaction to boredom. But if I am bored does that mean I'm lonely and would like attention? Attention is great and all but I feel more comfortable with being reserved. So which is it, do I want to stare at the wall like David would do and think long and hard about my next move in the game or just go with the flow like a leaf in the wind, which reminds me. The other day a small dried birch leaf that I think is reminisces of last fall was dancing in front of my eyes as I seat on the porch staring out into the lake and of course my favorite mountains. The leaf stayed airborne for quite sometime in my opinion and I sat there just following it with my eyes until it finally came to rest on the gravel below.

Some Pictures At the Lodge

So all is well at Valhalla Lodge. The lake is placid and the mountain range still standing, though there was a reported earthquake in Anchorage which gives me a little fright since I think it might be linked to the volcano that isn't to far from here thats been actively erupting.

This is a picture of the ash from the volcano, pretty crazy!

I'm almost getting used to waking up at 6 am, aren't you proud family?! I wake up at 6 am, work tell about 10 or 11 then I have the afternoon off to go take jobs on the airstrip of Nondalton, nap or just work on being creative. 

This blog thing has turned out to be harder to work with then I thought. For some reason the pictures are not uploading to this site as easy as they are on Facebook or Myspace thats why I haven't been posting, but I'm still going to keep trying. So here are the ones that finally have up loaded after trying for the last 4 days.

This is Brady, Me and Chris. This is a picture of us before we take off on our little fishing trip last week. Brady is from Fort Collins Colorado, a real cowboy. Chris is Captain Kirk's son, quite a character that one is. 

This is Captain Kirk and Liza. They're the masterminds behind the lodge. Kirk is a native Alaskan and Liza is from Oregon. Her dad used to be a professor at Reed and she herself graduated from Harvard Law and is a practicing lawyer up here in Alaska.

This is Erin and I all dolled up waiting for our first guest to arrive. Don't we look professional.

We have a freakin' steam bath. The coolest thing since sliced bread. Chris, Erin and I get in that thing and steam it up, then we jump into 6 mile lake, which is just freezing! And I mean freezing.

In the morning about 8:30 I watch the guest and Kirk take off in the Beaver to go fishing for the day.

This is the four wheeler that I get to ride around in the woods with, a whole lot of fun. Post more later, send my love.

This is my address if anyone is interested in writing me letters.

Ashley Lowe
C/O Valhalla Lodge
PO Box 117
Nondalton, AK 99640

One Week Already?

So I am amazed that already a week has gone by up here. It seems like only yesterday I was getting on the plane to come up here. Our first guest arrived yesterday, two men from Germany. A few days ago, we took a boat ride to the town of Nondalton, a local native village of about 100 people or so, to get the mail. Coming around the bend from the lodge, seeing the village that was around the corner made me realize I wasn't really in the middle of nowhere after all but still somewhere just remote. Its funny how I crave to be nowhere but always find myself somewhere in the end. 

The post office where I will be getting my mail.

This is Brady and Chris pushing in the boat, leaving our town where Chris says I'll be clubbing at in no time at all.

After Nondalton, we went up some streams where Brady showed us ladies how to fly fish, catching a few grayling in the process. 

Later that day or it could have been the day after, I put on some fishing gear and went out to try some fishing on my own. I caught a few grayling with the help of Chris and a few on my own. At the time I was pretty tired, it being a 10 to midnight fishing run after a long day of working, but I still had a lot of fun.

I don't have pictures of it yet but they have a steam bath here right next to the lake and I mean right next to it. A few nights ago or something like that remember I can't tell time up here, Chris and I took a long steam jumping into the lake periodically (which is very very cold, sorry pacific you are way warmer compared to this lake). 

All and all this is a great summer job so far. Its amazing, beautiful and very comfortable. 

Valhalla Lodge Summer 2009

So the flight was amazing! We went through the Alaskan Range Pass and actually passed the volcano that was erupting earlier this spring. I did see the ash from it and then got this strange feeling and remember Mount St. Helen and wondered if I'd make it out of here alive...Just kidding. If I worried about such stuff I'd never go anywhere. 

Here is the pre-flight picture with Buff (step-cousin), Erin the cook at the lodge and me.

Looking back at Anchorage.

Flying through the Alaskan Range

The beginning of Lake Clark. This lake will be my home for the summer.

This is the Valhalla Lodge.

The View from my window, in my OWN room and OWN bathroom. Jealous?

A Walk Around Anchorage

So, I took a walk around Anchorage today to get last minute supplies and I took a few pictures of the mountains and the strip malls around me.

Just like in Fairbanks, the day I left we eat there.
Can you see mountains!

Made it into Anchorage

Pre-flight night, I decided to visit my mom, sister and dad before I left the next day. It was great that I got to see them one more time before I left just in case I get eaten by a bear while I'm up here. Cole and I hang out the night before the flight and decided to jump into the ocean at Nye Beach. So at 3 o'clock anyone still awake in their hotel rooms witnessed two stark crazy mad people running into the ocean with nothing really on. 

From that, the flight itself was pretty long and hard on me. I felt really disoriented and very uncomfortable, but I did manage to sleep for two hours of the flight, get my bags and found Buff and Sherry, my Uncles stepson who I have never meet perviously to this adventure. They have been extremely hospitable, making me a lovely dinner, breakfast and giving me a place to sleep. Buff works as a pilot for Alaskan Airlines and loves Richard Bach (or at least has about 7 of his books.)

Now, I am resting at their home in the west hills of Anchorage about to go to the store to pick up my last remaining supplies I need before going out to the middle of nowhere for the next three months. I am going to post some pictures of my little walk to Fred Myers this morning and then send a message to my family about this blog I'm creating

This is the famous that all the streets must be named after in this neighborhood.
This is the neighborhood in the West Hills. I wish those huge mountains came out better.
This is Brook Town
Buff and Sherry's home.
Tulips in Alaska!