This morning I awoke bright and early at 5:30 a.m. (boy, I sure hope this doesn't become a habit!). I grabbed an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet (Michelle was my waitress), finished The Firm (an awesome page turner, which I highly recommend) and furiously scribbled the end of yesterday's journal entry, which my calloused fingers have only now just completed. I plan on doing some mellow hiking today and taking a few more photographs before flying to Juneau, where I'll spend the weekend. I'll catch you later and give you the update!
9:30 p.m.
Well, I was as busy as a beaver and as social as a butterfly today! As planned, I started with a leisurely exploration of Bartlett Cove, walking along the 1 mile Forest Trail which loops around the rain forest. [Allow me to wax pedantic for a moment and add this historical footnote, before proceeding with the narrative proper: The Bartlett Cove Rain Forest only recently (in geologic reckoning) sprang up -- about 200 years ago -- after the glaciers in Glacier Bay began to melt. As the glaciers receded, the land that had been compressed under the unfathomable weight "bounced" back up and, bit by bit, life returned.] It was a delightful trail with numerous photo ops -- a moss covered wonderland with reflective glacial ponds, creaking Sitka spruces, thick stemmed willows, spindly horsetail and hardened bear's bread fungus. It was a symbiotic combination of life and death: grey, dried out stumps provided homes for quilted moss and other flora. It was green, serene and pristine (wait til I tell Christine!). I felt like Adam himself, waking in the Garden of Creation, setting human eyes on nature's wonders for the very first time.
-----------------------------------Flowering Lily Pads---------------------------------
----------------------------------A Reflective Moment----------------------------------
Exiting the rainforest, I ventured out to the beach, whereupon I took a series of photographs of a stately raven perched on a mossy boulder. He seemed a black knight surveying his kingdom, the Fairweather Mountain Range providing an appropriately majestic backdrop. Following a quick beach-combing (I collected a token scallop shell), I took a deep breath of salty air and headed back to my room.
After heeding the call of nature and stashing my cameras, I decided to go running. I sped down the only road for about two miles or so, before turning back around. My sore legs necessitated a brief run, but it was nonetheless invigorating.
I went back to the lodge, showered and started reading All I Ever Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten until my stomach began to grumble. After a quick lunch (grilled chicken breast and a Ranier beer), I met John, a naturalist, who invited me to watch another movie on Glacier Bay (entitled, appropriately enough, Glacier Bay). It informed me all about how glaciers are formed, how they advance/retreat and what their impact is. I enjoyed the movie and decided to join Ranger John on his guided tour of the Forest Trail. Although I had just taken the trail, I figured the guided version would prove educational. John was very knowledgeable and environmentally conscious (surprise, surprise) and I learned more about Tlingot Indians (Alaskan Natives, known for carving canoes out of spruce trunks), glaciers, rainforests and the interdependence of nature.
------------Ranger John Dispenses Some Nature Knowledge-----------
After the tour, I read a little more of Kindergarten before the bus came to take me to Gustavus Airport. The ride was uneventful, but upon arriving at the airport lounge, I met a fellow passenger who grew up (hold on to your hats!) in Merrick. She approached me after seeing my "Long Island Marathon" T-Shirt to inquire if I'd actually run the thing. I assured her I had, feigning offense at the implied slight. She introduced herself as Katherine and said she was currently in Alaska to get her pilot's license (for ships, not planes). She was really easy to talk to and offered to show me around Juneau. She gave me her number, and I assured her I'd call her on the morrow.
On the brief, but scenic, plane ride from Gustavus to Juneau, I sat next to an older woman named Peggy who was a school media specialist in North Carolina. We talked about teaching and kids and traveling. She was sweet and friendly and, within ten minutes, she was offering to set me up with her daughter. Boy, wasn't I quite the popular one today?!
Upon reaching Juneau Airport, I readily looked for for transportation to the hostel. The airport shuttle was outside, and the driver assured me that she did indeed drive to the hostel. She had a handsome Whippet named Kate who rode shotgun. All three of us became fast friends, the shuttler and I chatting whilst I scratched Kate behind the ears. I received a thorough nose licking for my efforts (from the dog, not the driver!) I also met a girl from Ohio who was semi-social, in her own Cleveland way (rather reserved, but nice enough).
Arriving at the Juneau Hostel, I quickly made myself at home -- quite literally. The "hostel" is really just a converted house. It's spotless and quaint and run by the classic House Frau. Immediately at the entrance, I was confronted by the following posted rules:
* Take your shoes off at the door
* Lights out at 11:00
* Everyone MUST sign up to do a chore (vacuuming, cleaning, etc.)
I was somewhat taken aback -- I mean, I don't even do these things at home! Nonetheless, I doffed my shoes and signed up to empty wastebaskets. In my room, I met Pat, a restaurant owner from I Forget Where. He was good-natured and told me about an awesome hike to the top of Mt. Juneau (I think I'll do that and/or Mt. Roberts later in the weekend). He was meeting friends, so I followed him into town where we parted ways.
After scouting out the city and orienting myself to the layout (Juneau is a pleasant slice of metropolis surrounded by mountains), I looked for a place to eat lunch. I made my way to the Red Eye Saloon, an Old West themed bar, complete with swinging doors, sawdusty floors and western paraphernalia (guns, stuffed animals, etc.) mounted on the walls. It had great atmosphere, but I wasn't in the mood to drink. So I went next door to "The Cookery" (a gold mining-themed partner to the saloon, which greets potential customers with a warning notice informing disgruntled miners that they can only hang the cook if they first construct the coffin and dig the hole). The infamous special was the Cookery Burger, modestly billed as "Alaska's Biggest Burger." Well, I know "Vegan Sal" is gonna kill me when he hears this, but I ordered one (I can never resist a challenge!) When I was served, I had to admit that it was definitely the biggest burger (or at least the biggest BUN) I'd ever seen. It was a full pound of beef smothered in lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and mayo (I removed the tomatoes and mayo), ensconced within a hearty, humongous, homemade roll, which was quartered and separated by lengthwise pickle slices. Before I could even take a bite, the whole restaurant was staring at me incredulously. I felt rather embarrassed and gluttonous at first, and half wondered whether I should wrap up the burger and head back to the lodge to eat in privacy. But when the Floridian family at the adjoining table offered to take an "incriminating" photo of me and the behemoth burger, I readily complied with a smile. Then I got down to business. It was clear almost immediately that I was destined to fail, because the damn bun was just too much. I ultimately surrendered about halfway through (my fellow patrons and earnest onlookers were noticeably disappointed when I announced that I was full) and had the waiter Doggie-Bag the rest for tomorrow's dinner.
----------------------------------Alaska's Biggest Burger-----------------------------
I went back to the hostel, hid the evidence of my folly in the back of the refrigerator, and started penning today's tale -- which I've just finished. Just in time, too! It's 10:46 p.m. and Herr Hausfrau will come hunting for me soon if I don't shut out the lights and go to bed. Gut Nacht!
MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! . . . The following is an unexpected addendum: Just as I capped my pen and closed my journal for the night, a distinctly British voice near me inquired of the date. I turned to see an Indian woman, and I had difficulty reconciling the voice with the face as I responded. Her paradoxical nature was soon explained when she notified me that she was born in England of Indian parentage. She's bilingual and has visited India many times, most recently to teach a class of blind children (She'll be returning later in the year, when her sister gets married). She has a degree in particle physics (a field of research I am naturally quite literate in and proceeded to expound upon -- NOT!) and will soon pursue her doctorate. From what I could decipher, it seems she has aspirations of entering research and studying "quarks," micro-particles smaller than electrons. Not wanting to brag, I downplayed the fact that, as a Master's educated kindergarten teacher, I could easily name all my letters, count to twenty AND draw the four basic shapes! Anyway, I found her fascinating, and we talked all about England and the upcoming Challenge Alaska Wheelchair Marathon which I would be working at (coincidentally, she had also signed up with Volunteers For Peace to help at the marathon, but was shut out). I told her I'd drop her a line and let her know how the experience went -- she may volunteer again next year (earlier). I inquired of her name ("Chandy"), and we exchanged addresses. Barely holding back my yawns at this point and fearing the wrath of the housemother, I wished Chandy well and went to sleep.
2 comments:
When you attempt to grab the reader's attention and meet a woman late at night, you might try some amorous artistic embellishment. We talked about particle physics and wheelchair marathons just doesn't cut it.
The burger story was good, except that should have bet a lumberjack $100 (you didn't have) that you could eat the whole burger and then you begged the Florida family to give you some money so you wouldn't get shot.
- Writers Guild
That is a HUGE burger! I don't like the Writer's Guild suggestions, however. I like that you were human enough to attempt it on your own and then couldn't finish it, but took it home. Wow.
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