Final stop, Washington

After nearly three weeks on the road from Juneau to Seattle, we are back in the states and with full access to the cyber world. We did our best to document the incredible Canadian landscape we crossed over, the people we met, and the places we stopped at along the way in order to share our experience with friends, family, and whoever else cares to look into our road lives or is interested in the sort of trip we took. We traveled a diverse landscape and found some of the most incredible places we’d ever seen. We don’t have enough hands to count the number of times I said “I like it here.” In a short time, I’ll be starting work in Seattle and Lara will be off to wherever her wanderlust takes her, probably crewing some ship somewhere awesome or paddling rivers wherever. Click on the links below to read about our trip and see some pictures!

Part One: The Klondike

Part Two: Stewart-Cassiar

Border Crossings

Part Three: The National Parks of the Canadian Rockies

Part Four: Stoked on BC

Part Five: Close to Home Now in the Sea to Sky Corridor

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Reflecting back on the past year, 2013

2013 was good for me. I met great people, got out of my comfort zone, and shared my travels and passions with the people that matter most. We are more than half way through 2014 now, but after going through the 2013 file in my iPhoto account, I couldn’t help but reminisce. It’s been quite the privilege. With 4 months of 2014 left, we will have to just wait and see if 2014 can top 2013.

Only three days into 2013, and I was off with some of my closest friends for a climbing trip to Cochise Stronghold, Queen Creek, and Red Rocks. Thinking back now, 2013 was jampacked with exploring climbing destinations around the states. Many of my road trips were climbing-centric. I climbed at Penitente Canyon in Colorado’s San Luis Valley, bouldered at Moe’s Valley outside of St. George, Utah, did my first multi-pitch climb–and of all places, Yosemite, climbed at Sharma’s home gym, did 7 pitches of a climb in Mazama, Washington, got my ego put in check at Index and Devil’s Lake, fell in love with Tensleep, didn’t climb enough at Spearfish Canyon in South Dakota, and made a spring break trip to the Red River Gorge in Kentucky. More importantly, I got to share these beautiful places with so many awesome people.

I got to share Moab and Southwest Colorado with mom and grandma, went on tons of road trips–one with Caden, one with Cameron, and one alone. Got an insider’s tour of Austin with Kelly, spent an awesome several days in Cape Cod, spent a long weekend with friends at Duncan’s house on Squam Lake in New Hampshire, spent a ton of time on Earl’s Trails in the Holyoke Range, went on my first multi-day canoe trip–100 miles down the Connecticut River with Mike, and went to a ton of national parks–Badlands, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Crater Lake,  Arches, Canyonlands, Mesa Verde, Zion, Sand Dunes, and Devil’s Tower. Woah, can’t believe it.

Thanks everyone who was a part of it all! Here’s to more good times, good friends, and travelin’!

Moving a camp on ice

Maintaining a remote glacier camp isn’t easy. When long days of summer heat, persistent rain, the warmth of 183 dogs and a busy camp melt away the previous winter’s snowfall to a thousand foot layer of glacier ice, it is essential to move further up glacier where snow is more abundant. Why wouldn’t we just start where there is more snow? The further up glacier our camp sits, the more likely we will experience poor weather, thus fewer opportunities to offer tours.

Since our initial camp at the base of a towering peak with the name “The Guardian”, we have moved our entire operation twice–both moves vastly different than the other. Our first move was all hands on deck–our entire team of twenty, along with the support of two pilots and their A-Star helicopters. In probably one of Juneau’s hottest summer days, we moved 65,000 pounds of stuff, dogs and all, 6 miles to our “Howling Huskies” camp up the middle branch of the Norris Glacier. Several trips and about thirteen quick hours later, we were settled into our new camp between two massive hanging glaciers on either side of us, and a granite peak whose form is reminiscent of two howling huskies.

After about a month at “Howling Huskies”, we knew we’d move again, but when the decision to do so was made, it was without any warning. Not only was this camp sitting on just two feet of snow, but water was beginning to seep up from the glacier, forming pools of water throughout the kennel. So after a full day of working and waiting for the weather to clear for tours, we ate an early dinner around 6:00 and began moving everything. Although we only moved a little over a mile, we had just three snow machines (the Alaskan way to say snowmobile), half our crew, and a full day of work already behind us.

Instead of loading dogs into helicopters, we took teams of 14-16 dogs directly to the new camp, where we unhooked them and introduced them to their new homes. Unlike Camp Move #1, rain hardly let up, it was dark enough to see the light of distant snow machines between camps, and it was cold–the Alaska I had imagined and expected. But we finished in a just under four hours. If we had gone any later I’m not sure I’d have been able to function for morning tours. But by 11:00 I was in my sleeping bag with the propane heater on high, drying out myself and my clothes. And without any weather canceling, we began a regular day of tours at 8:30–after a hot breakfast of course.

Northwest to Alaska

IMG_5569Like previous summers, I threw my essentials into the car and drove west towards the mountains. This time, my compass pointed towards even bigger mountains–always bigger mountains is the trend. Alaska. 4000 miles, 15 states, and one speeding ticket later, I am situated in my temporary home base for the summer on Douglas Island, a walk over the bridge from Alaska’s state capital, Juneau.

Sometime back in the fall I got the idea in my head that I’d drive to Alaska for a summer job. At the time, I could hardly take the thought seriously. But after a few interviews, I took a job with Alaska Heli-Mush, a high end sled dog tour kennel on the Norris Glacier in the Juneau Icefield. So I hit the road with my good friend, Faraday. The long drive to work gave me a lot of time to think about what to do without Hampshire College on the fall horizon. The new freedom is exciting, but also overwhelming. I ended the trip with more questions than I started with, but also explored some philosophical territory that provided insight into them all.

So we took to the road, stopping at some of the most beautiful places we had ever seen. But even better than the scenery, were the people we met along the way. We spent our first evening with our friend Martin and his family outside of Detroit. They gave us a place to stay and some good food to eat after a long day of driving. I even got to sing some Polish Christmas songs with his mom (don’t ask) and saw Martin make a pretend machine gun out of his oversized fur-ball cat, Celka.

As we got further from home, the conversations we made with others from familiar eastern states provided much comfort in the new landscapes we were experiencing. Simply being from the eastern states was enough to start a conversation, even if the distance was from Massachusetts to Washington D.C. or even Florida. There was the Sinclair family. We met them at the Liard Hot Springs in northern British Columbia during their trip up the Alcan from eastern Massachusetts to Anchorage, Alaska. They had both just retired and were taking up residence in the great state of Alaska. From just our short parking lot conversation, I was offered a place to stay if I ever passed through Anchorage.

And the transient look into the lives of those who lived elsewhere in the vast North American countryside, whether through simple observation or engaged conversation, proved that we have more in common than not despite our physical distance.  I had learned that truth in Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley: “Americans are more American than Northerners, Southerners, Westerners or Easterners . . . California Chinese, Boston Irish, Wisconsin Germans, and yes, Alabama Negroes, have more in common than they have apart . . . It is a fact that Americans from all sections and of all racial extractions are more alike than the Welsh are like the English, the Lancashire man like the Cockney, or for that matter the Lowland Scot is like the Highlander.”

After spending some meditative alone time in the hot springs, I began talking to some folks from Edmonton, Alberta about the Athabasca tar sands, the dirty extraction process, and our energy future. I learned that they were on the road traveling to Dawson City, Yukon for a friend’s funeral, adding more friends and family to their caravan as they made their trek north. Unlike most others traveling the AlCan, they, like ourselves, were not RV-ers. Just a sidenote–despite being on the road with so many RV-ers, we hardly made any conversation with any of them. They mostly found other RV-ers to talk to about RV stuff. From Liard to Whitehorse, Yukon, we ran into our Edmonton friends 5 times in two days at rest stops and in towns. In Whitehorse, we found them on the side of the river cooking burgers, more friends in tow. By this point, although we didn’t know them by name, we picked up conversation like they were good friends. They offered us some of their food and suggested some good camp spots. They made us feel a whole lot closer to home. All of the friendly strangers did. It was exactly what I needed to experience before starting work far from home.

The trip provided a smooth transition away from college towards “adult life,” plus, Faraday and I were able to get caught up on our favorite podcasts, This American Life and the Dirtbag Diaries.

Trip Highlights: crossing into Canada, Banff and Jasper National Park, seeing many grizzly bears, including a mother and three cubs, several black bears, mountain goats, moose, elk, antelope, bighorn sheep, a Canadian lynx, mule deer, tons of eagles, meeting so many kind people, the Liard Hot Springs, AlCan Highway, traveling through new places, climbing at Bozeman Pass, the Bee’s Knees Hostel and Nancy and Bertha in Whitehorse, crossing into Alaska, Janilyn and the Alaskan Sojourn Hostel, Keith and Brandon (some awesome travelers with some good stories)

Trip Highlights: crossing into Canada, Banff and Jasper National Park, seeing many grizzly bears, including a mother and three cubs, several black bears, mountain goats, moose, elk, antelope, bighorn sheep, a Canadian lynx, mule deer, tons of eagles, meeting so many kind people, the Liard Hot Springs, AlCan Highway, traveling through new places, climbing at Bozeman Pass, the Bee’s Knees Hostel and Nancy and Bertha in Whitehorse, crossing into Alaska, Janilyn and the Alaskan Sojourn Hostel, Keith and Brandon (some awesome travelers with some good stories)