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Wednesday, August 4, 2010It's a little strange that my odyssey to China should start with a trip to Alaska. My dad got it into his head a while back that we should just pick up and go to Alaska this summer, in part to visit his sister, but mostly to take a vacation. I didn't complain too much. I mean its Alaska.
The plane we were flying up on left Indianapolis at eleven a.m. Tuesday morning. Good, I thought. We can get up at a reasonable hour and still get to the airport with plenty of time
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What this meant to my parents was we needed to get up at six o'clock so that we could arrive the decade before the plane took off, insuring that no mishap in flight catching would occur. I didn't mind too much I suppose; I had Ayn Rand to keep me company with The Fountainhead (thanks Libby) while we waited at the terminal. Mom's rereading the Harry Potter books before the new movie comes out, so she was fine too. Dad meanwhile read the manual for the camera we've owned since I was still in middleschool, in stoic Wentz fashion.
The first plane ride was nice. A lot of people hate airports and planes, but I like them. Mom, of course, got the window seat, but I got the aisle seat (Dad got stuck in the middle, though I don't think he really cared). I spent most of the flight reading, a little of it sleeping. Then we got to Minneapolis.
More importantly, we then got on the plane to Alaska.
Now, don't get me wrong, Alaska is going to be a ton of fun. But as we were flying over Canada, we went over the Yukon. I had looked up from my book, and noticed that everyone was staring out the windows. "What ho?" I thought.
I looked up at just the right moment. As I glanced toward the window, the plane banked to the left, giving a perfect view of what was below us. As far as the eye could see, glittering white mountains rose up, rimmed with silver clouds, clefts in the snow and ice casting long, beautiful shadows across the landscape. Thankfully, neither of my parents are leaners, and their heads didn't block the view.
ts probably a good thing that I didn't know if there were any parachutes on the plane. Had there been, I likely would have stood up, strapped one on, said: "screw Alaska", and jumped out the nearest door. What can I say? I'm easily distracted by giant snow capped mountains.
Eventually the plane arrived in Anchorage. From the first step of the plane, more awesome stuff started happening. Literally right outside, though the windows of the terminal, like a picture from a magazine, stood the misty mountains of Anchorage. They had their own charm. Where the mountains in the Yukon had been a dazzling display of ice and snow, these were rugged and earthy, greenery growing up their sides as a sort of clothing, giving the mountains their own special brand of dignity.
After screwing around with the car rental place for a few hours, we took off into Anchorage looking for my Aunt Joy's place.
It was a bit overcast and dreary, but I like it that way anyway. Ignoring strange looks from the residents, I leaned out the window to snap a few pictures of the mountains.
It wasn't long before we got to Aunt Joy's house, it was fairly easy to find. They live in some apartments on the northwest side of town.
This is what is about a hundred feet from the apartments they live in on the northwest side of town.
"Now you have to be careful," Uncle Mike told us. "There is a nature preserve not far from here that stretches down right up to the edge of the apartments. Sometimes when people go out and walk the trails they get attacked by bears." Strangely, he didn't seem very excited about the prospect.
I've gone wandering out on that trail a few times, mostly to go back to that stream. I saw a beaver and a salmon come swimming up the bridge I was standing on, and I watched them fight the current, trying to make it up stream. All in all, a pretty good start for the trip.
Tomorrow we're going to head out to Seward, a little town to the south. In the mean time, I'm ready for bed. It's three o'clock back in Indiana.
2 comments:
I know what you mean about the mountains - I'm not sure why, having grown up in Indiana, but I feel relaxed when I'm around them. Lib and I noticed the same thing when we got off the flat islands in Washington and back into the mountains.
Plus, I have a small voice in my head that always says: "Climb it! You heard me! Climb it Climb it Climb it!".
Oh I know. I was going a little stir crazy being with my parents on some of this. My mom isn't the mountain climbing type (though dad would). I almost told them to go away one day and leave me at the hotel we were staying in. There was a mountain right behind it that looked like an easy climb. It was calling to me.
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