End of week one

Alaska: home of epic rainbows

As week one of training comes to an end, so too does the beautiful sunny weather we had all week. Gone are the crisp, blue skies and glimmering sunlight that bathed the snowcapped mountains in luminous warmth. For the next week it looks like it will be all cloudy and drizzly, though as I sit at the library to type this, the cloud ceiling is still high enough to see the distant peaks. So maybe it won't be so bad.

Training begins

I still can't believe how beautiful it is here. Even from where I'm sitting in the library to write this, a huge bank of windows overlooking the ocean provides a postcard view of the golden sunlit, forested mountains and islands capped by some low clouds. It's unreal. And I'm getting paid to live here!

It does come at a price though. And that price is that I spend 40 hours a week working my tail off. This week has kicked off with a full schedule of training to prepare the 7 of us interpretive seasonal rangers ("interps," informally) for a summer of cruise ship tourists and other visitors.

It's a new day!

Sunny Easter Sunday on the harbor

After an impossibly delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and gouda this morning, I took a leisurely walk  across town. I stopped at the library, hoping it might be open, but it turned out to be closed. By the way, it’s Easter Sunday! Surprise! On my way there, I passed a tall, lanky Jamaican man on the sidewalk. He greeted me with a big grin and said, “Happy Easter!” “You too,” I responded, to which he replied “And 420!” I tell you, this town is a hoot. Well, the library wasn’t open, but I found I could get wifi outside. Surprisingly though, I couldn’t find it in me to use the internet for long though, as I was too excited to hit the trails on this sunny day. After running back to the house to change and grab my hiking gear, I found my way to the trailhead of the Gavan Hill Trail just down the street.

My god it was gorgeous! The trail consisted mainly of single-file or double planks elevated a few inches from the soggy ground. The understory of the heavily wooded forest was covered in soft, vibrantly green moss. Even though it was mostly sunny out, the trees were so dense that the trail was fairly dark. It meandered for about .8 miles until it came to cross with another trail. I continued following it up the mountain, a mile to the lookout.

Plank trail up the mountain

Let me tell you: longest mile of my life! I could swear it was longer. It was fun and gorgeous and exciting for sure, but the higher I got, the more my knees and ankles protested, reminding me of how embarrassingly out of shape I am. Thank goodness I was hiking alone. I took as many breaks as I wanted and huffed and puffed and groaned my way up. I also took a lot of time to film some shots with the GoPro, in the hopes of making another film this summer.

There were only a couple other people I passed along the way. Coincidentally, two of them happened to be people I met at brunch this morning! I think they only half-recognized me, but I asked how far it was to the top. “Only another 20-30 minutes to the lookout,” they replied. I can do that, I thought confidently.

Well, 20 minutes turned into something more like 40. Even more humiliating, I was passed by a fit, grey-haired man running up the steep, slippery, narrow trail with his dog. I know they were judging me, both of them!

I wanted so desperately to turn around after 20 minutes had passed and I still saw no sign of the lookout. But when I glanced behind me, I saw faintly through the trees a grand vista of the ocean and islands out behind me. I’ve got to make it now. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine turning back at this point, though a year ago it would have seemed just as good a choice as any.

Up and up and up the steep wooden steps and sloppy muddy trail I hiked, my thighs burning, knees aching, and shirt soaked through with sweat.

View from the lookout

Finally I saw it: the lookout, a plain, small platform jutting out towards a clearing of trees. The mountain rose still further behind me but I staggered gratefully onto the platform and leaned against the railing. The view took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. I can’t believe I live here! The clouds were starting to come in, and a chilly breeze had picked up, but still I could see out for miles. Little islands dotted the ocean, and bigger islands jutted out with snowcapped mountains. I could see the town, the harbor, little boats cruising from island to island. I wanted to see a whale, but even with my binoculars I couldn’t find any wildlife stirring in the sea.

Looking down on downtown

I took in the view for as long as I could, taking pictures, trying to gather up my strength for the downhill hike back. I still wanted to get to the top of the mountain, but judging by how tired I was by now, I decided to save that for another day.

The hike back didn’t seem quite as long, but my ankles hated all the stairs. Down, down, down. My ears popped as I descended another 1,000 feet in elevation on a small, steep stretch of trail. When I finally made it back to the trailhead, the 3.6 mile total hike had taken me about 3 hours, ridiculously slow for my usual speed! But I made it, and felt completely satisfied and content with my Easter hike for the day.

Tomorrow training begins. Hurray!

The first day

Saturday, 19 April 2014

This morning I awoke ready to go play outside. I don’t remember waking up this motivated in a long time, but after a quick breakfast and some coffee during which I inspected a map of town, I took off down the road. Although I didn’t end up walking where I intended to go, I found myself on a back residential road lined with cute little houses. While these houses are old and weathered, unlike Nome, they don’t appear to be rundown shacks. Sitka is quite a bit wealthier and has a much “whiter” demographic, which unfortunately translates to a slightly more upscale community. But I do feel safer here.

I eventually find my way to a lake full of quacking mallards, and then remember which way to go for the town center. I wander down the sidewalk and it seems everyone I pass greets me with a smile or a nod. I walk through what must be the main tourist drag in the summer and stop in a couple shops, but everything seems mostly dead, even on a Saturday. When I get to the harbor, it’s a bit more active, and the sounds of gulls laughing and the ding-dinging of boat sails carries over the wind. I climb to the top of a historic site known as Baranof’s Castle, which offers great views of town and the surrounding mountains.

View from Baranof's Castle

View from Baranof's Castle

It becomes increasingly windier the closer I get to the harbor. I walk along its edge until I reach Sitka National Historical Site, the visitor center where I’ll be working this summer. I wander through its exhibits and the totem hall, and then meet the other interp rangers with whom I’ll be working. They’re all very friendly and give me a cup of hot chocolate and a bunch of brochures. I think I’m going to like it here.  With my hot cocoa in hand, I wander down the nature trail, which is scattered with totem poles that almost blend into the forest. I walk out onto the tidal flats where several people are also strolling, collecting shells, gumboots, and other various ocean treasures.

The tidal flats

I hike about 2 miles through the spruce rain forests of the park. There are remnants of the Tlingit fort that was occupied during the Battle of 1804 when the Russians and Aleuts attacked the Tlingits, and then across the mouth of the Indian River is the Russian memorial. I am somewhat amazed by the serenity of this place; I feel like I’m out in the middle of nowhere, and yet when I come to a less dense part of the forest, I can see houses and boats and harbors through the trees, not even a quarter mile away. I’m really right in the middle of town.

Mt. Edgecumbe, the local volcano

I can't believe I live here

Even this time of year, the park is moderately busy. I pass at least 4 people walking their dogs on the trail, and others hiking with cameras or binoculars. Migration season is just beginning and the tidal flats are teeming with gulls, shorebirds, ravens, and bald eagles. The eagles are as common as pigeons around here! As I’m hiking, I keep hearing crashing in the trees above me, only to look up and see an eagle taking off. When I stop at an overlook to see across the cove, I see pairs of eagles courting high in the sky against a backdrop of snowcapped mountains.

The distant building on the right is my office

Indian River

The totem trail

On day 1, Sitka is a dream. I don’t know how it will be later in the summer, but right now I feel like I could enjoy this place for a long time to come. Tomorrow I think I will try to hike some of the trails, and then Monday work and training begins. So much to look forward to!

Welcome to Sitka!

Friday, 18 April 2014, 17:41.

When I arrive in Sitka, the late afternoon sun is beaming golden and bright on a town I was told would be cloudy and rainy all summer. Perhaps it will be, but on this night the sun shines as if it will shine forever, casting Sitka in a friendly light that beckons me into its charming hold.

On my way...

My life reduced to backpacks again.

Tomorrow I leave for Alaska for the 3rd time in my life. God I'm a lucky girl! I've spent the past two days consolidating my belongings to fit in 4 bags, this time with no place to store anything that I can't take with me. I'm moving out of my apartment in Spokane for good, heading to Sitka, and seeing what happens from there.

This is also the last day I will have home internet access, so periodic blog updates should be fairly comprehensive this summer to keep everyone updated on my adventures.  Hopefully before I leave tomorrow, or en route, I will be putting up one more post on Sitkan history. Last night I delved pretty heavily into Russian Tsars and colonial battles, so I'll try to type that up before I forget.

I love you all, and will do my best to stay in touch this summer!