As My Time in the North Comes to an End

In Alaska, people climb 5000ft peaks on sundays, they don't watch football!!!



In Homer, the Salty Dogg is a world famous bar. There are dollar bills pinned all over the bar with writing on it. This is what I wrote on mine. I know where I come from!!

Last night on the Matanuska Glacier.

I want this chicken. Jeff and I laughed for 5 minutes straight! He reminds my of a muppet...what does he remind you of?

This is how guides take shots! V-Anchor through a chunk of glacier ice! Cody is now par tof the MICA family.

Alas, my great adventure among the skilled guides of MICA/Exposure Alaska has come to an end. Three months I spent sleeping in a tent among the wild animals of the north woods( and no I am not talking about my colleagues) , no running water, little electricity and ample amounts of WI-FI. I survived daily hikes on the glacier and inebriated nights outside the guide kitchen, only to say goodbye to friends I may never see again. Such is life as a seasonal employee. The first goodbye was for Steve and came swiftly as I was leaving that morning on an expedition to the Prince William Sound and Denali. Next was the first large wave of folks, leaving only Mandy, Jeff, Bill, Joolie, Phil, Don and Tina, of course, and me. The days went by quickly with an exciting visit from my cousin Cody (Love you Cuz!) and a glorious escapade to the state fair. The goodbyes were short and sweet, with leaky eyes. My friends are off making great adventures for themselves. Mandy is guiding in San Fransisco, Jeff is heading back to New Zealand, Bill is sailing around South America and Matt is guiding down in Argentina, just to bring a few things to your attention. I hope to follow in their epic examples and get moving somewhere exciting myself (destination still up for debate...).

After I left MICA is went down to the Kenai Peninsula to stay with Cody. Jeff followed and we tore Seward up! After I became well acquainted with Soldotna, AK (not much to get acquainted with) my aunt and uncle arrived and we went on a super sonic tour of Alaska. Eventually, I huffed my way back up to Anchorage. climbed a tiny peak, went ot the zoo, had some drinks and was otherwise bored stiff.

Now I am sitting in the Anchorage airport, enjoying an Alaskan White Ale waiting or my plane to take me out of this place that is getting colder by the hour and the days are rapidly losing light. However, I will soon find myself in the tropical weather of Nicaragua and other countries of Central America. The guide tan I gained from this summer will blend into my soon to have beach tan. Oh yeah baby!

This summer was incredible. I will never forget the friends I made here and the things I learned about people, the outdoors and myself. Now, my time as a homeless college graduate begins and my time of reliable employment ends. Ahh this is the life!

The Bomber Traverse

Many apologies for the delayed entry. Days come and go with a somewhat chaotic, yet predictable rhythm here on the glacier. Business has been slow (yet is just now starting to pick up), and Don decided that it was time to get the interns out into the back country so as not to drive each other nuts. Partnered with my best buddy, Mandy, and Bill and Don, we headed out to a local trekking path called Hatcher's Pass in hopes of mapping out a new route for clients. We intended on trekking about 10 miles through unfamiliar terrain, and over virtually untraveled routes. For clients, it would take 5 days; for us, 48 hours. The "planned" trek would take us through Lane Pass, over the Snowbird Glacier, past the Snowbird Hut and onto Bomber Hut. The following day would take us over the Bomber Glacier where a WWII plane had crashed and its remains still there. Then we would traverse down and out of Hatcher's Pass. Seemed simple enough, a pleasurable couple of days...

The beginning of the hike was smooth sailing; we punched out almost three miles in 2 hours. However, within a half hour of trekking past that, we had crossed into the realm of "too cool for clients." The first pass turned out to be a jagged ridge with loose boulders and snow. In order to access the pass we wanted, we had to drop down about 200 feet to cross loose granite boulders, slick snow cover, and sand all on a 35 degree angle. At this point I realized that this wasn't a normal "hike", and I turned to Don and asked if this was at all like mountaineering. Don, the always supportive and never condescending boss that he is, stared me in the eye and said, "You left backpacking in the parking lot."

Ok.

Well, we survived the pass, and descended onto Snowbird Glacier, and Mandy and I were thrilled to put crampons on our feet for some much needed stability. The glacier was gorgeous, and the Snowbird hut inviting. We arrived just after 7 in the pm at the hut, meaning it took us about 5 1/2 hours to move about 1.5 miles and that we didn't make it to Bomber. But I didn't care I was off that damn mountain! For now.

At 4:30 the next morning, we crawled out of our sleeping bags and got dressed. We had all day to make it back to the car and only a slight idea of what general direction to go in. As luck would have it, after 3 and a half hours, one descent, two river crossings, and continuous bush whacking, we reached the hut. After a quick lunch and a cup of coffee and feeling rejuvenated, our feet began to carry us to the crash site and to the snow capped section glacier that we must inevitably cross. For those unfamiliar with glacial travel, snow cover means one thing, the potential for unseen hazards. For one blissfully unaware of these dangers, crossing this snow field may seem enjoyable; what this ignorant, dewy-eyed individual may fall victim to are unseen crevasses, bergshrunds or moulins. I, on the other hand, am a well trained glacial guide and am all too aware of these hazards. With Don first, me behind him and Bill in toe ( Mandy chose the low road), the comment left to sit in my mind as we began to move was Bill declaring, "If Don disappears, stop moving."

Well, we all had a good laugh once we reached the last pass, some laughing a little bit harder than others. The last big challenge was descending that last mountain; it took us three hours and at this point I almost began to enjoy it. Then finally, with much rejoicing, ,we reached an actual trail. In celebration, Mandy got on her knees and kissed the path, and I took off my pants and hiked in my under armour.

The trip ended with us in Palmer at the local Mexican joint. I had a burrito; veggie of course.

Nearing the end of the trek. This is the true color of the lake. I used a color accent feature on my camera to emphasize only on this color. By the by, this is a typical color of a kettle lake.

In the center of this photo is the tallest peak, just to the left is the pass we crossed from Bomber Glacier.

On the Snowbird Glacier, the nunatak in the background breaks apart and large boulders such as this one fall down. Although one might think I am trying to climb this rock, I am actually trying to hump it.

Can you see the path we followed? Me neither.

This is before I found out I was going to become a mountaineer for the next 34 hours. I checked into the Badassery a young lady, and checked out as a bad ass chick.

Checked Off!

It is now official. I am an Alaskan Glacier Guide. Jeff gave me the green light two days ago and I am leading treks on my own. It feels great to spread my wings a little and have more responsibility. This is just in the nick of time. Business is starting to pick up and I am leading an average of two trips a day. Combining this experience with the last month, I have decided that guiding is in fact glorified babysitting. Except the children are much older, fatter and don't listen as well. The good news is, like children, they are generally a lot of fun and really funny.

The check off involved a trip with Jeff observing me interacting with my clients. The most important thing to keep in mind is the safety of my group. Since nothing that we do is actually safe, risk management becomes extremely important. For example, if there is a dodgy river that needs crossing, I need to be able to spot the clients in a way that would hopefully prevent them from falling into the river. Needless to say, I rocked it. Flawless. So the next task was to go on an exploratory trek on the glacier. We went onto a crevasse that was about 300 feet high and hiked into a dead vent or moulin.

All and all, life is sweet. Mandy and I are looking for ways to get to Seattle. I still have no idea what I'm gonna do!!! I love being a guide.

Sea Kayaking in the Prince William Sound

Sorry folks no pics today. Such is life when you spend two days in a sea kayak in the pouring rain and blowing winds. Dave and I guided two clients on a trip around Blackstone Bay. This was the first experience I would have spending significant time out on the water in a sea kayak. I was extremely excited and ready to assist Dave in anyway I could. Alas, the trip was in fact the trip from hell. It began well enough; Dave and I were totally dialed. Food bags packed, gear checked and personal gear ready to go, or so we thought. After we arrived in Whittier, at the kayak center, Dave realized that we had in fact forgotten the food bags. Tina, taking it very well, scooped up Dave and made an emergency shop at the local grocery store. No skin off our backs...

Thinking that we had narrowly averted a disaster, we finished loading gear and were ready to go. As mentioned before, we were in the middle of what felt like an epic monsoon and due to windy conditions, we had to take our water taxi to our original pickup point. We were essentially running the route backwards. Having been dropped off, we scurried into the water. Unfortunately our clients were little sissies and suffered from soar wrists after a mere hour of paddling. So much for seeing glaciers calving. It only gets better, our Coleman stove broke and we had to resort to an MSR stove ( not nearly large enough). By noon the next day, Sam gave Dave and me authority to get them out by any means possible. Money was no object. As mentioned before, these men did not have nerves of steel. Wet layers and cold did not seem to compute it there was no immediate reward. Thank goodness we found a boat to taxi us back, and as a thank you, the clients bought us a huge dinner and pitchers in Girdwood.

I am happy to be warm and dry and back at the glacier. According to Don, I am very close to being checked off and will be able to lead my own treks. I am excited, feeling healthy, and beginning to make plans for after the season. Patagonia anyone?

My First Exposure Trip

I posted this because I know you want to see my sweet moves.

So, this is where I have been for the last few days. I went with a lead guide named Dave, who is really chill, another intern, and clients to Eagle River. This is a view looking out of the campsite. In the morning, the clouds were moving in and rolling over the Chugach Mountains. As you can see, we're really high.

Here we are! Lauren is on the left, I am in the middle and Dave is on the right. As I walked out of the tent, this kettle lake was in right there.

The majority of the last day, we spent a lot of time trekking on hillsides this steep, a 45 degree angleish. A great challenge, but today my knees hurt.

I think this is so cool. As we approached the high point of our trek, around 4600 feet, the clouds were rolling in and we couldn't see more than a few feet in front of us.

Working on an Alaskan Glacier

I am learning a lot of technical skills here at MICA. Along with becoming comfortable with walking in crampons, I am slowly gaining confidence in my ice climbing abilities. In fact, I have become so comfortable that I am learning how to belay my fellow interns and eventually clients. It is important for me to maintain a tight rope and a sharp eye on the climber. In case they should fall, I have a good grip and am able to support them safely with this technique. In good spirits, Amanda puts her life in my hands and allows me to man the rope, allowing her to have a great climb on Solo Wall.

The highlight of our treks on the glacier is the Ice Falls. Glaciers are essentially rivers; they are just frozen. If this glacier was a flowing river, this feature would appear as a waterfall. Instead, it is ice curving in a way that produces large crevasses, sometimes up to 100 feet deep. Since we are bad ass Alaskan Guides, we decided to climb up to the top of this ice fall. I had to overcome some uncertainties with my crampons as I ascended a steep ice wall with no ropes, but it was worth it.

Behold! The glory that is my sleeping space! Floor rug and all!

As I exit my tent every morning, this is the view. A peak from the Chugach Mountain range is in the background.

This is the dirt path that leads down to my tent in Tent Village. There are several dirt paths like this that lead to other tents. Moose also use these trails.

The guide hut is where we hang out during the day if there are no chores to do and there are no trips out on the glacier. Pictured is Joe.

Minus Tent Village, this is the operation. The yurt, gear hut and guide hut is where we sort out the details. If you focus on the background you'll notice a large white object. Yes, that is the Matanuska Glacier, where all the magic happens.

First Day Off!!

Well, Gooday mates! Today was my first day off here at Mile 102 Glen Highway; aka MICA Guides. All six of us had the day off and it allowed us all to spend some good old fashioned time together. We got the opportunity to take the "Burb" (suburban) into Palmer. Palmer is about and hour away and has the closest grocery store. We all stocked up on food for the next week and did our laundry. It took all day...Then we stopped down at King's River (KR), where Tina and Don have a beautiful cabin (40 miles from camp). It is also where Exposure guests often stay. I jumped into the Subi (Subaru), the only stick shift vehicle, and took the wheel! About 10 miles away from base, being in idle due to road work, the engine overheated and coolant leaked everywhere causing the engine to smoke. Naturally, I freaked out and pulled to the side of the road. But Phil came to my rescue and made a temporary fix to get it back.

Some Photos of the first few days

This is a moulin. It is the most dangerous feature we encounter on the glacier. It means windmill in french. Water flows into it and erodes a hole that goes down to the bottom of the glacier and eventually flows out at the "terminal face".

Here are some photos of the glacier. This includes some of the scenery that I will see every day with clients.

Here is the crew of assistant guides for this season. There are a few other lead guides and Exposure Guides, but this the group of amateurs! From left to right: Lauren, Amanda, Me, Joe, Phil and Steve. All are extremely nice and very fun.

The First Couple of Days

The last few days have been a complete mind trip. I am living near Palmer, Alaska near the Matanuska Glacier and training to be a glacier guide. I sleep in my tent every night and my site overlooks the Chugach mountain range and the terminal face of the glacier. It is sunny 22 hours a day here, which took some getting used too. But like many things, it is becoming a familiar sight. All of my time, and the other five assistant guides, is taken up by training, training, training! I trek on the glacier every day and will be ice climbing for the first time today.

I have already been scheduled to assist on a three day backpacking trip near the Talkeetna Mountain range which is near the area. But that is all for now because I need to go eat breakfast...Pics to come soon!