Vancouver Monday Morning

Arriving in Vancouver Harbor, we watched the sun glint off the skyline of a beautiful city early on a Monday morning. Debarkation is never an enjoyment; after all, vacation is over and this is a travel day. We got through the lines well enough, were loaded onto a bus, and taken out to the airport.

On the way through downtown, I mentioned that the streets were strangely empty at 9:00 AM. Only when we were in the Customs line at the airport did we discover that it was a major holiday in Vancouver, and no one was at work unless they worked at the airport. It was a pleasure to go through U.S. Customs in the Vancouver airport. That's right, the cooperation between countries is so great that we went through customs BEFORE boarding the aircraft. That meant that we flew in and deplaned one heck of a lot more quickly than we would have from any other foreign port.

This blog has brought the trip to life for me nearly every day for several weeks. Hoping that people have seen the photos and enjoyed the trip, I now look for another topic to organize photos for a period of time. When I get the final idea, the next post will follow. Meanwhile, one more Alaska poem:

HOMEWARD BOUND

It has often been said that we leave a bit of ourselves
Wherever we happen to visit, wherever we happen to learn
It has also been said that we take a bit of those places
Home with us, tucked deeply in our hearts.
Those of us who love to travel must grow big hearts
To handle all these inputs, and those headed for Alaska
Better prepare themselves for the extra weight they will bear.
I wonder how speakers of Inuktitut, the Aleut language, would say
Things like "Thanks for everything" and "See you again."

Leaving Alaska

We boarded Coral Princess in Ketchikan and set sail for Vancouver. It was Saturday evening and the Street Fair was going strong. We were looking forward to the relaxation of a final sea day, not realizing that there would be no sea day. Cruising the Atlantic or the Caribbean, as I have indicated, allows lots of time with nothing to see outside the ship, nothing but ocean and sky and vastness. We remained near the coast and all day Sunday found things to see, boats and fishermen and all sorts of wonderful activity. It put a final wonderful feeling on the entire visit, and one we will never forget.

As the trip began in July and finished in August, I put together a second TRAVELING Magazine cover, featuring Lady Baltimore, Mendenhall Glacier, and an eagle I spotted from Capt. Rob Halston's tour outside Ketchikan. The problem, of course, was choosing the few images to print over the many others that I will never forget. It was tough but it was great fun.

We arrived in Vancouver on Monday morning, got some interesting "morningscapes" as we came in to the dock, and bussed to the airport for the trip home. Next post we will look at the beauty of a city on a Monday in August and we will close the Alaska trip.

People of Ketchikan

As we departed our final shore stop, we headed back to Ketchikan and saw signs for a Street Fair and Battle of the Bands. With plenty of time before sailing, we walked through the downtown fair and it left an absolutely wonderful final impression on us. From Capt. Rob Halston and his crew, who were personable as well as professional, to the street vendors and the patrons of the fair, we met so many nice people that it was a wonderful day. The streets were alive with skateboarders and dog walkers, the concession booths had those wonderful smells of summer food, and we talked to a clerk in a bookstore about the weather and the people of Ketchikan. It was surely our favorite town on the trip.

And it is interesting that after the caribou and the bears, the sled dogs and the running salmon, the mountains and the glaciers; the town we liked best was filled with wonderful, friendly people who could make us feel at home. Reminds us a lot of the lesson we already knew, the one about how ordinary people are the treasure of the earth. Thanks for the reminder, Ketchikan.

That evening we headed toward Vancouver and our airplane ticket home. Watch for the next post.

Immies Showing Off?

As we approached an island lighthouse, which was quite interesting to see in its own right, we saw that there were dozens of eagles standing on the ground, clustered on the lighthouse itself, or walking on the beach. We had learned that all eagles in Alaska are bald eagles, but the characteristic white head does not come at birth. The immature eagles --- hence the term "immies" -- take up to three years to grow into their adulthood and their majestic look.

As we neared the island, I saw two immies on a rock and could almost hear teenagers talking. "What do you wanna do? . . . I don't know, what do you wanna do? . . . I don't know, just hang out, I guess." We have all heard the script so often. Then the talk was over, wasn't it, as one closed the discussion with "Hey, watch this . . . " I heard the captions in my mind as the shutter was clicking. And later, I was pleased to see that I had caught the tableau. It was a highlight of the day and of the trip.

After docking from Capt. Rob's wonderful tour, we headed back to Ketchikan for a surprising added bit of fun. That is for the next post.

Lady Baltimore

Cruisers know that time on land is valuable, and in various locations they gravitate to an excursion that is so quick and easy to access that it gives the most enjoyment for the least expenditure of time. Many shorelines large enough for modern cruise ships are not adjoining high ridges or hills, but a few of them are. When one has a tram or sky ride, it is often anchored near the ship dock and is always worth the time it takes to grab the view. In the Caribbean, for instance, we always tram up on St. Thomas in the United States Virgin Islands.

In Juneau, the tram is an easy walk to the ship and the skyline views -- along with the sky view of the cruise ship -- are certainly worth the ride. And in our case, as we were on the up ride, I looked down and snapped a photo of a sizable brown bear directly below us. The town to the right and the ship to the left as we looked down offered several interesting images as well. And none of those images ranks with the feature at the top of the ridge. On the way to the expected gift shop, we found Lady Baltimore.

The bald eagle is in a large cage and will spend the rest of her life there for her own protection. As the photo shows, she has been blinded in one eye but a careless hunter, who shot her, striking her in the beak. When she turns her head, viewers can see the gnarled wound, which drove her to the ground, blinding her eye and causing other injuries. She has recovered from all but the blindness, which makes her incapable of caring for herself in the wild. Now fed well and apparently comfortable as the Lady of the area and the star of the show, she strikes me as a majestic survivor. I see strength, resolution, and dedication in the powerful eagle and I wish her a long life. When I return to Alaska, as I no doubt will, I will tram up to say hello to her once again. Until then, best wishes to Lady Baltimore.

It was time to tram down, walk to the pier, and board ship. One stop left, in Ketchikan, would feature more eagles. These eagles, free and plentiful, are the stars of the next post.

Green Angel Gardens

Green Angel Gardens, outside Juneau, is a wonderful peaceful oasis of natural beauty. Our final stop on a tour of Juneau, this easy-to-enjoy location features bright flowers, as seen here, a gentle walking trail, and lots of things to see. A family business operated by transplanted Alaskans, they show maps and items that display native customs and traditions.

As noted in an earlier post, the long hours of daylight combine with a lack of the withering heat of much of the lower 48 states to provide greenery and flowers that are as beautiful as any garden lover could wish to see. Be certain when you plan an Alaska trip to set aside time for one or more of the lush gardens of the 49th state.

From Green Angel, our bus took us back to town, but we did not immediately board ship. Instead we trammed up the mountain. We visit Lady Baltimore on the next post.

Mendenhall Glacier

Funny how some words stick and affect all your perceptions. In Glacier Bay we saw Marjorie Glacier. With that pretty name, we saw a feminine side, a beauty that stood out in the rugged landscape. Aboard ship, we were awestruck as we watched her calve.

Today, we are outside the Alaskan Capitol city of Juneau, off a tour bus and standing on a viewing platform that would have been under the Mendenhall Glacier just fifty years ago. A masculine name attached to the glacier, just as much a frozen river as any other, lends it a strength that makes it a perfect complement to Marjorie. It even has more blue color to it.

The Mendenhall setting is quite peaceful, with a trail promoting movement. As you walk, you see the glacier in differing angles and differing lights, and you see the still water acting as a reflecting pool for various islands and trees. Many interesting and colorful birds fly all through the area, adding more to see and trilling their summer songs. The adventure of memories includes all the senses, and Alaska has treats for ears as well as eyes.

We left Mendenhall on the way to a beautiful garden. We stop there on the next post.

Salmon Run Finish Line

The State Capitol of Alaska, Juneau, is a busy place to visit. On our one day, we saw an outstanding museum, visited an awesome glacier, took a tram up a mountain, and dropped by the finish line of the salmon run. We will look at Juneau over a few posts, but the salmon ladder came in the morning and will be our first stop.

As a Chicagoan not particularly interested in fishing, I was struck by the photos I took back in Anchorage as the salmon had begun running. I had read about the run and also about the ladders, but had no clear understanding. In Anchorage we had seen dozens of fishermen in the stream, pulling salmon out of the water one by one. But here, in Juneau, we saw how much effort and dedication these animals put into their life-ending spawn. Watching them on the ladder, striving and driving, avoiding little gates and literally jumping the walls to rise to the top, the salmon truly put every ounce of effort into the work. Against the stream, they get pushed back but only redouble their efforts to arrive at the top. The ladder images shows how the salmon must swim to the left, turn and swim to the right, each time leaping the series of walls that slowly but eventually will carry them to the top with thousands of their peers.

There, the harvesters separate the males from the females, and then harvest the milk as seen in the picture. The male had been stunned by an electric shock and poked to access the milk. While he will be dead momentarily, that was his fate in any case and the stunning will make the end peaceful for him. To see male after milk spurting out the last energy of his life, finishing his lifelong odyssey, contributing to the future generations, is completely awesome.

Soon after we reached the finish line along with some of the salmon, we got back on the bus and headed for Mendenhall Glacier. But not without thinking back over what we had seen in the dedication and effort of these salmon. Our blog will arrive at Mendenhall with the next post.

Flowers of Skagway

Never having traveled so far from my Chicago roots, it was interesting to me to see the effects of twenty hours per day of sunlight on gardens and flowers. I had visited Halifax, Nova Scotia, on two previous cruises and had remarked that the flowers there in August look as lush as the flowers in Chicago in June. But Alaska has much more sun power than Halifax, it seemed to me.


Touring a garden in Skagway, I was struck with the intensity and clarity of the colors of all the flowers. The greenery, as well, was powerful and beautiful. This particular flower was one of hundreds on display, with a touch of rain on the petals, on an otherwise gloomy morning. Featured among these gardens were kale and other vegetables that were impressive giants in the well-tended landscape.


We get nowhere near as much sun time in Chicago, of course, and I doubt I would like to take the extra sun that Alaska gets in summer. After all, if there is twenty hours of sun on a day in summer, there would likely be four hours of sun on a day in winter. Hard to imagine. Believe it or not, though, I would love to not only take another cruise tour to Alaska, I would love to fly up for a long weekend sometime. In the middle of winter. It would be an adventure!

A poem:

FORGET-ME-NOT

Visitors learn much in beautiful Alaska, noting at times that the
Forget-me-not is the state flower, but no explanation included.
Shouldn't the state flower of this state be some giant showy beauty
Technicolor and about the size of a dining platter
Rather than the classy subtle attraction of the forget-me-not.

Forget-me-not? Who could forget this wonder? Ever?

TRAVELING Magazine

As far as I know, there is no current magazine called TRAVELING. And so I have named my personal Photography Magazine TRAVELING, with issues dated July and August of 2008 as our trip fell into both months. Each issue, by design, has no other pages, just a cover. And I had such a fine time doing the two issues that I retrofitted one from Manhattan and dated it to July 2007.

Working in Photoshop, learning how to handle layers and cutouts and how to resize and rework: it is all so interesting and it continues to open my mind to further experiments. Here I started with the base layer photo of Mt. McKinley and superimposed Wado, Richie Beattie's lead dog. The UPC code was borrowed from a Google image site, but since it will never be scanned it should suffice.

A poem about the piercing eyes of Wado and perhaps about politicians and athletes:

EYES OF THE LEAD DOG

Adventure in Alaska is built on the base of the intrepid dog teams:
Pure power to pull food and supplies or competing racers through the Yukon,
Sleeping in makeshift places well below the zero mark,
Finding trails hidden under drifting snow, avoiding obstacles,
And always lead by one dog, the lead dog, with the piercing eyes.

The lead dog will show you the eye of leadership, not just in the color,
But in the apparent ability to see past the drifts, through the darkness of
Twenty-two hour night, around or over the obstacles, always sighting on
Goals of the team, finish lines, towns or villages, where we need to be.
Eyes of the lead dog may not actually see all that the team needs to know
But the team needs to have confidence that the eyes of the lead dog see victory.

Whether he does or not.

Going to the Dogs

Our first cruise stop was at a quaint town called Skagway and the featured event on our schedule was a ride with the sled dogs. It turns out that the mushing teams need exercise in the summer and some mushers move to a camp near such a town. They then offer enjoyable educational opportunities for the tourists.

The full team is attached not to a sled but to a buggy. With seating for six it is a comfortable ride and the musher stands on back using the reins to direct the dogs. Our musher Richie Beattie has competed in the famed Iditarod winning Rookie of the Year honors. And among the educational things involved in the event was to hear him say that his team would no longer participate in the Iditarod. When asked why, he responded that it is not as much a challenge as the Yukon Quest. The Quest runs a month earlier, so it is considerably colder and darker; it also runs further east through wilder country.

It was interesting to hear him talk to the dogs, always in a calm and supportive voice. They are a true team, man and dogs, working together for survival when competing and training for it when they are not competing. Upon our arrival the dogs were ready to run, straining at their reins, but after their workout they were wonderful, powerful animals who appreciate petting and attention.

Beattie's lead dog, Wado, is shown above. He runs next to his predecessor as lead, his own dad. And we had an exciting ride, and educational afternoon, and a chance to pet and hold several outstanding dogs. Wado's picture seen above is one of my favorite images from the entire trip, as you will see in the next post.

Calving of Marjorie

After our captain had announced preparations to leave the bay, we lingered on deck a while as the ship began to move. Nearly spinning on its center, the other side of the ship was a better place to watch from, so we headed to our own balconies. On the way, we stepped out onto a public balcony that ran across the aft width of the ship. No sooner did we get there than we heard the exciting sound.

It sounded as if Marjorie were clearing her throat to catch the attention of her audience. And then a fairly significant chunk of the glacier tore lose and fell into the bay. Calving is as exciting to watch as pretty much any sort of creation. One thing had existed, that thing changed, and the result was an independent being of its own. Small, fated to a meltdown in the coming days or weeks, but the center of attention for its time in the sun. We saw three such calvings in a short period of time, and then Coral Princess was moving away. We dressed for dinner and looked forward to our stop in Skagway.

Two Poems:

BIRTH OF A BERG

Marjorie Glacier, marquee star of the Glacier Bay ice show,

Bright reflecty white but highly tinted with blue

Rubbed over with as cinders in places

Dripping at times, quiet at others;

Like all stars she commands the stage

Demanding total concentration for the act

And now she clears her throat like a grade-school teacher,

Her thunderous "ahem" turning every eye to the stage

And Marjorie calves once again, filing the sea with icebergs.

STILL AS A GLACIER

Glaciers might fit in many analogies

Cold as a glacier for example might work

Still as a glacier, however, makes no sense

To anyone who watched on runoff or calve

Marjorie Glacier

Deep in Glacier Bay we stopped, still, for over two hours near Marjorie Glacier. Clearly the image of the frozen river works here. In one image we see the vista, the width of the glacier, and in the other a closeup peek at the colors and intricacies we stared at for such a wonderful period of time. As the ship rested, people interested and speaking to one another but quiet, almost respectful, we waited for the glacier to calve.

If a glacier is a frozen river, when a portion of it breaks off or separates, that is called calving. When a glacier calves, the resulting ice dropped into the water below is an iceberg. While the very word iceberg is intimidating in some ways, most icebergs are quite small and would not be harmless to any sizable vessel.

A poem:

MOUNTAIN OF MEMORIES

First visit to Alaska is sensory overload
Glacier Bay is so surrounding with images and sound
A mountain of memories comes home with you --
And a mountain make of rock, not ice,
Since rock will never melt.

After nearly two hours waiting, without success, for a calving, the captain announced that the ship would begin by turning to leave. We would have nearly another hour to hope for the sight of a calving. The result will be in the next post.

Cruising Glacier Bay

Imagine a National Park that has no apparent paved roads; the visitors use the water to see the majesty of the frozen rivers. Most of a day involved cruising by several glacier areas, one more picturesque than the other.

A note on photo composition. Yes, indeed, I have heard of the Rule of Thirds. I can't say I agree with it being a "rule," though; in my Photography Workshop I teach it and the Concept of Thirds. I developed a grid overlay that can show the focal points perfectly, but no rule is better than the eye of the photographer. The reflection of the glacier gently invited me to collect it, to admire it, and to respect it. That is what I tried to do with this image. The power diagonals certainly invite the eye of the viewer to explore.

A note on Photoshop. Yes, I do post process; sometimes heavily and sometimes quite lightly. I know that historically, photographers carried gradient filters for images such as this. In the camera, this image was too light above and too dark below. While the same filter would still work, I have such a filter built right into Photoshop. Using CS2, a full two generations behind the cutting edge, I can do so many things to enhance, to correct, to experiment. I can work hard and I can have fun. And all these efforts are work of the photographer trying to refine the image to become the image he had in his mind.

So, the moral of the dual lesson is simple. Know the rules and know when to break them. Get the image as good as you can in the camera and then do what you must to make it the image you want. If the result is a photograph that please the photographer, it is a success.

We will return to Glacier Bay on the next post and you will meet a Glacier named Marjorie.

College Fjord

Most cruises depart earlier than Coral Princess, and most first mornings are at sea. Meaning if you look at the horizon from an upper deck, you can see a complete unbroken circle and nothing else.

Waking suddenly the first morning and knowing we were to be in College Fjord, not docking but enjoying the scenic views, I felt immediately that we were stopped. Getting up and peeling back the drapes, I saw my first glacier. More blue than white, striped with dusty color in several areas.

I always pictured a glacier as a frozen mountain, but I immediately saw a frozen river. The colors, the sounds, the sights of this entire portion of the trip are etched in my memory as solidly as the images are saved in various places on various media. Something I will never forget.

A poem:

ALYESKA
When visiting Alaska you learn more about Aleuts than Eskimos,
Starting with the Aleut word 'Alyeska,' the name of the state.
These people called this country 'Great Country'
Which certainly is a name that lasts because it is a name that fits.

Still Cruisin'

We interrupt our photos and memories of Alaska this morning for a word about cruising. Our Alaska Adventure was built around a Princess Cruise, and our rail trip took us from the land portion to Whittier where we boarded ship on a Monday evening. We have sailed on three lines: Princess, Carnival and Holland America, all sister lines and all wonderful experiences.

As far as we are concerned, only a few types of people should cruise: those who enjoy food, shows, adventure, relaxation, other people, being alone . . . The vacation that gives you the choice every day how much or how little. Most of us go for the much and save the little for everyday life.

Most cruises board between 1:00-4:00 PM, but the long train ride to Whittier put us on deck nearer to 8:00. Coral Princess is, as expected, a beautiful ship. Dinner, some visiting, and a long day was over. A great night's sleep led us to College Fjord, subject of the next post.

The Alaska Railroad

Driving around big-city suburbs, Chicago in my case, usually involves avoiding railroad crossings as much as possible. Passenger trains are not too bad, all identical silver cars but short and quick. Freights, on the other hand, are long, often slow, and rarely picturesque. No more caboose, no one to wave to. Not what we might remember -- or imagine -- from our early Lionel days.

But every Railfan has a treat in store: The Alaska Railroad. Facing a 9-to-10 hour train ride from Denali south to Whittier to board Coral Princess, I had a wonderful day of railroad education and enjoyment. Much of the route south, we used a single rail line, something I had only seen in movies as distant to my actual life as Doctor Zhivago. How does a train pass heading in the opposite direction. Sure, I knew the term "sidetracked," but I certainly get it better now. Lacking automatic switch devices, our train would stop, a conductor would walk to the switch and make the adjustment. We were sidetracked a couple of times, and I had time to see how things work and to talk to the friendly professional railroaders, both men and women, who operate the lines.

An open-air platform within the width of the rear car gave photographers, poets and train enthusiasts a closeup look at traditional operation of railroads, and the fun of the day was matched with the feeling of learning something wonderful about the growth of the United States.

When we detrained, much of the Alaska adventure was yet to come. Next post up soon.

Wasilla Memory

On our train trips north and south during the Alaska adventure, we passed through a tiny town called Wasilla, not be known in the lower 48 for nearly two more weeks. Knowing that it was the official starting point of the Iditarod, it occurred to me that the well-known race went all the way to Nome, starting from Nowhere.

So pleased that today, on Inauration Day, tiny Wasilla is slipping back into its Nowhere history.

Next post will be about the Alaska Railroad, a great experience in itself. Enjoy the Inaugural Balls.

Backtrack to Anchorage

Image seen all over Anchorage, July 2008

Thinking back on the first few posts, I realize I was in such a hurry to depict Mt. McKinley that I skipped over our day in Anchorage. A bit rain-spattered, the city was so attractive and the people were so friendly that I really could have started here. So today we will cover the only true city in the huge state, population just over a quarter-million. And a wonderful place for an Alaskan adventure to begin.

Imagine a colorful skyline, lots of buildings whose windows act as mirrors to one another, and an in-city river lined with fishermen pulling salmon out of the water one after another. Imagine, too, a wonderful, thought-provoking museum on the history of the state, from Seward to the pipeline. And imagine two adjoining lakes, attached with canals, on which boats are not allowed. Of course boats cannot clog up the lakes -- they form an airport for the many Alaskan private planes.

A great place to visit and I have it in mind that I would actually like to visit again -- in the winter. That might be one of the unfulfilled list items, only time will tell. But last week it was more than 50 degrees warmer in Anchorage than it was in Chicago.

Polychrome Pass, Denali

Denali. Imagine a wildlife park about the size of Massachusetts. And imagine it has only 93 miles of paved road, mostly accessible only by special bus tours. The wildlife is exceptional, and on our one trip we saw bears, moose, caribou, dall sheep, and ptarmigan. But as I thought about my pictorial memories of the trip I remembered a landscape more than anything. Polychrome Pass on a sunny Sunday in July.

We had seen Mt. McKinley on Friday and this vista on Sunday. Wonderful adventures were still ahead in Skagway, Juneau, and Ketchikan. More images to follow.