After a relaxing day exploring the Spit and a nice dinner at the home of the second best seafood in Alaska we had a very early morning for a short 45 minute jaunt north of Homer because the box told us Homer was not a choice for us.  In the end, the box made a great suggestion as we had quite the trip including a boat launch from the sandy shores instead of a stable marina.  Not to mention the skipper and Gilligan proved to be quite helpful in helping us meet our quota of two halibuts a piece along with a couple extra fun catches to be covered later.

We should have known we were in good shape when we first discovered the boat and its name, The Hard Eight.  Apparently after the company owner had taken his first halibut fishing trip he decided there was nothing better and so he purchased his first boat and moved to Alaska.  Based on the fact that it could be considered a gamble and so he named his first boat the Hard Eight.  Apparently it was a great gamble as he now has three additional boats.

As I mentioned before, rather than walk down the decks of a marina to a boat we instead launched from a sandy beach but in order to get to this sandy beach we were first loaded into the back of a truck that was very similar to a paddy wagon.  Not that I know the inside of one intimately as when I was arrested I turned myself in, but if I recall correctly there were no windows and we sat on benches facing each other with the door being locked from the outside.  In all of my fishing expeditions I had never been held prisoner prior to departure.  Shame we didn’t think to get a picture of it.  Fortunately the ride was only for a few minutes and then we loaded up into the boat and waited for the state run tractor to hook up to the trailer and back us into the water.  It seems like an awfully simple process and apparently quite cost effective for the state and with little impact on the environment.  The “docking” was similar to circling the airport waiting for clearance to land, or in this instance waiting for the tractor to grab your trailer and back into the water for you to take a run at it. 

Unfortunately we didn’t get the boat to ourselves, but fortunately there were only three additional fishermen (women) with us and all three were a good addition to our ragtag foursome.  As it would happen to be, one of them is a survivor that had also run the marathon for Team In Training based out of Kansas City.  The other two was a father/daughter tandem from Austin, TX.  Apparently the daughter had always wanted to go to Alaska and her dad promised her that when she turned 12 they would go.  They were enjoying it so much they called home and broke the news to the mom/wife that they were sticking around for even longer.  Now I can’t wait until my boys turn 12 so I can take a similar trip.  Side note:  12 appears to be the magical age that kids can start to do the fun adventurous trips otherwise Alaska might be a bit of a waste.

After a short ride deep into the inlet we arrived to our fishing hole, about 350 feet down, our crew explained the process to us.  Since halibut are bottom feeders we would attach bait fish to a line along with a five pound weight and then drop it into the water slowing the line occasionally and waiting for the weight to hit the bottom.  Once the weight was on the bottom it was a waiting game while you patiently hold onto the rod in anticipation of the pulling of the line.  We also learned not to “set the hook” by jerking the pole up as the halibut, much like myself, have delicate mouths and a jerk of the hook would just rip through the mouth of the fish.  Fortunately these guys know where the fish are and it didn’t take long before we were hauling in halibut and after each catch deciding if we should throw it back or keep it knowing that we were allowed to keep only two.

Unfortunately it wasn’t much longer after we started pulling in halibut, I discovered that cod also frequented this area and also hung out near the bottom.  After letting my line settle for some time the captain said to reel it in as sometimes cod are on and so I did as asked and quickly discovered that cod have zero fight, but reeling in a 15 pound cod along with a 5 pound weight over 300 feet can get quite tiring…especially when done multiple times.  For some reason the cod loved my line and seemed to avoid everyone else and so I quickly gained the nickname of the Cod Father.  Despite my love for fish sticks, the crew did even give an option for keeping the cod and quickly tossed it back much like tossing trash into the ocean.  One other discovery is that the cod also feed on the young halibut as you can see in this picture taken of what I believe was cod number 3…then again they all blend together.

After a few hours fishing in the same spot, with success for most everyone, things all of a sudden went cold.  And then the fellow marathoner caught something huge and quickly got into a lengthy battle with something huge.  His pole was bending more than we had seen on the halibut and eventually was unable to reel any further.  While this was happening another strong battle started with the father, but he was able to reel his in and we found a skate.  I had never heard of a skate before but soon discovered that a skate was like a sting ray.  After the smaller one was reeled in my line went tight and I had a battle on my hands as well.  Mine was larger than the first one brought in, but I was able to reel it all the way in and needless to say was absolutely exhausted.  Eventually the crew had to pull the line in by hand.  The skates were basically like fighting a kite in a strong wind.  We were now officially under attack of the skates.

It was during the attack that we almost lost Andrea, but not to a skate.  Instead it was to what would prove to be the largest halibut caught that day.  I think we were all paying attention to the really large skate being pulled in when all of a sudden I hear something and look back and find Andrea struggling to hold on to the pole and at the same time struggling to stay in the boat.  Yes, I exaggerate a bit, but not nearly as much as you might think.  As can see below, the fish was almost bigger than my diminutive friend.  Once Andrea saved face and courageously won the fight it was pretty quiet water and so we pulled anchor and headed to another spot.

Once again the crew knew what they were doing and where to go as we all quickly filled our quota of two fish per person.  This was also the place that Mike got to fulfill what appeared to be a lifelong dream and corrupt a young girl at the same time.  Throughout the trip I learned of Mike’s strong desire to kill something/someone.  So in order to avoid him fulfilling this dream on me as I slept at night I asked if Mike could be the one to club the fish and the crew was more than happy to oblige.

His bloodlust was contagious and the 12 year old was next in line to swing away.

Fortunately it was the last fish to be hauled in and so no more senseless murder occurred and we were pulling anchor and heading back to shore to weigh and display the bounty of the day.

Once all the pomp and circumstance is over, it’s finally time to begin the slaughter.  I was very surprised to see how quickly they were able to fillet each and every fish.  Once filleted they vacuum seal it for you and then offer to flash freeze and ship.  The box didn’t recommend the last portion and so we saved money by “freezing” it at our cabin and then the ladies got it packed up and shipped the next day while I was off shooting bears…with my camera.

*No animals were harmed in the shooting of this post, except for the tasty morsels that have made their way to my deep freezer.

Don’t ask me why it has taken so long, I think it has just been a lack of motivation.  Work has been pretty busy and I got a case of the “there is always tomorrow”itis.  If memory serves me correctly we last left off from our trip to Alaska with our stay in Kenai.  The next morning we awoke early and hit the road for our jaunt to Homer.

Along the highway we saw several signs posted that listed the number of moose killed by cars for the year and ironically, despite the number being in the high 70’s, we had not seen anything up until that day.  Thanks to eagle eye Mike, we found one only an hour into the drive.  Below is a photo of our first moose sighting, number 1 of what would prove to be only a few to be seen our entire time in Alaska.

This next photo is the second moose to be spotted.

A couple of hours after the moose sightings we finally reached the outskirts of Homer and stopped at this “scenic view” stop where we got our first sighting of the Homer Spit.  A little disclosure here is that I don’t think we knew anything about the Spit even though we saw it from this view point.  I don’t recall about the others, but from my understanding of Homer, it was a beautiful town located on the water.  What we soon found out is that the Spit is pretty much where the action is…at least for tourists and fisherman.  Below is a small compilation of the scenic view from just outside of town.  The Spit is the skinny strip of land that you will see on the left hand side of a few of the photos.

As this trip was very educational in many forms, this was also another learning opportunity for us.  As we were leaving the viewing area a police officer pulled over a truck and Mike quickly explained to us that “All cops are jerks!”  At first I thought he was kidding, but then as I observed the frothing from his mouth, the red forming in his eyes, and the veins popping from his neck I quickly realized the true level of disdain for these fine men and what they do to serve and protect by laying their life on the line for us day in and day out.  I tried to change Mike’s mind, but he was having none of it and I still fear that someday Mike will die at the hands of a friendly police officer during one of his drunken rants while streaking through our neighborhood chasing his dog with a bic lighter. (Editor’s Note: Mike’s unsubstantiated hatred for peace keeping officers is not a general view of the management here at TeamFricke)

Our trip to Homer proved to be a first in many sightings and like the moose, this was our first sighting of an eagle up close.  We were driving down the main road and someone happened to look up and spot the eagle’s nest and so being the photography idiots that we are we quickly pulled over and started to snap away.  Below is my favorite photo from the bunch where I managed to luck into a photo of one of the eagles landing with lunch.  Below that is a quick montage of some of my other favorites.

After lunch we checked into our nice cabin and we quickly learned of the Spit by talking to the owner.  Simply put, the Spit is an extension of Homer, essentially a finger of land extending into the water.  There is a large marina on one side, plenty of shops and restaurants throughout, tour operators ready to sign you up for an adventure filled tour, plenty of campgrounds, and what looks like some pretty nice town houses at the very end of the Spit.  While the town houses looked nice, I can’t even begin to imagine how cold that must be in the winter.

The lighthouse that surprisingly is not that big.

A couple of bars with some interesting names.  For some reason we didn’t bother sampling any of the local beverages here.

The marina.

The mandatory photo with the fake fish.

This was also the first sea otter spotting for us, but nothing compared to what we would later see in Seward, but that’s another post.

There were also a couple of monuments in memory/honor of the lost fishermen.  It was at this point that I remembered seeing this on a show on Discovery channel.

Not so sure the girls were too happy to be watching Mike and run around on the rock beaches taking photos of the sea otter.  Fortunately all of their fingers were sticking up at this point.

Speaking of Discovery channel shows, for you fans of Deadliest Catch, Homer is the hometown and home port for Time Bandit and they also have a nice tourist shop set up with an actual crab pot set up with live crabs inside.

As I mentioned, the Spit is also where the fishing expeditions go in and out of and so naturally this a good place for them display the catch of the day and to clean the fish after the trip.

It’s also the perfect opportunity to suck gullible people, like Mike, into believing some things were actually swallowed by the fish. 

The shell is real, the finger is not.

Finally to end an adventurous/relaxing day we stopped off at the restaurant that has the “Best Seafood in Alaska”.  Unfortunately the wait was about 90 minutes and so I asked where the 2^nd best seafood was and without skipping a beat they quickly referred us to a restaurant down the Spit that proved to be quite the tasty dinner and prepared us for a restful night of sleep before waking very early for our fishing expedition…ironically not to be taken out of Homer.

So what do you do after running 26 miles?  The very next morning you go to Country Kitchen for a rejuvenating breakfast and then load up the car and hit the road for a scenic four-hour drive to Kenai.  When we were first planning the trip I had read all of these wonderful things about Kenai and so we planned on staying here a night and enjoying the relaxing atmosphere.  Little did I know that what I was researching was the Kenai River area that extends for quite some time and not the city of Kenai.  I was expecting wilderness and woods and what we found was a pretty big city.  I say pretty big, but I mean by Alaska standards.  Fortunately we found a nice set of cottages overlooking the mouth of the Kenai River from atop the cliffs.  Unfortunately, according to the cottage owner, in about two weeks the mouth of the river would be crawling with salmon boats bringing in their catch from the day to the canneries.

The view from the cottage.

Regardless of missed expectations, the view was nice and very relaxing and gave us many photograph opportunities including a walk on the beach:

The walk on the beach revealed what was quickly forming as a clique of marathon runners and those that aren’t.  Mike and I were never allowed to walk near them or join in their marathon games.

But alas, after much harassment they eventually gave in and let us take our pictures with the stars that they are.

I discovered my new obsession of watching and taking photos of boats, it’s just a shame that we missed the performance of the salmon boats returning their bounty.

I also developed an obsession of taking pictures of various objects.

The stroll though the old Russian orthodox area was also in store.  Who knew these marathon ladies would be so interested in walking so much the day after running 26+ miles.

And finally after a relaxing drive, a relaxing walk, we chose to relax that evening with a few local beverages while grilling some reindeer sausage.  When Mike and I had our fishing trip we stopped off for dinner on our way back and I had my first taste of reindeer sausage.  It was so good, despite the over abundance of mustard, we tried to recreate that experience ourselves and in the store all we could find was “sausage with reindeer meat”.  Based on the taste I can only assume it was the same thing and I wish I could find it here in Texas.  Mike enjoyed it so much that he decided to turn the leftovers into beanie weanies.  This is where Mike also entertained us with his incredible joke about the difference between reindeer and caribou…”The reindeer is domesticated.”  Ok, it wasn’t really a joke, but after a few beers and some Sarah Palin arguments for some reason he decided to relay the fact to us in the form of a joke.

Waiting for the grill to heat up.

Are you ready to “get ya some” sausage with reindeer meat?

The clique actually let us eat with them.

And finally, Mike and his beanie weanies.

In the end, a slow relaxing day did us some good in preparation for what would be a somewhat action packed trip ahead of us, including Bears, Halibut Fishing, Whales, Seals, Kayaking, and the list goes on.  More on all of that to come in future posts.

Melanie has already provided her post describing her marathon experience, so this will be solely from my point of view as a spectator, supporter, and admiring husband.

Melanie’s day began with an early 5 am wake up and stretching and taping as quietly as possible not to wake me as I had gotten in late from my fishing trip from the day before.  So I thought it would be nice of me to get as she was walking out the door to give her a good luck kiss and snap a couple of pictures. 

I figured that this would make me a good husband, naturally Mike had to show me up by actually walking downstairs with Melanie and Andrea and taking pictures of them in the lobby and boarding the bus.

I chose to go back to sleep.

After resting for a few more hours Mike and I headed for the first checkpoint at the 9 mile marker.  Being concerned about traffic and fighting our way through the spectators we arrived a bit early as we quickly found the spectator crowd, much like the number of runners, is much smaller for this marathon compared to what we have seen in Dallas.  Fortunately this got us there before any of the runners and we were able to catch the one Kenyan before he blazed passed with no one else in sight behind aside from a car driving down the tank trail in the far distance.

And then about ten minutes later here came the closest thing to competition.

While waiting for the ladies to make it by we thought we had discovered the question of “does a bear ‘go’ in the woods” only to find out that it was just a runner that thought the observation area would be a good place to relieve himself.

Fortunately for Andrea the bear experience was over by the time she came around as jubilant as could be.

And then after a little bit of waiting, came Melanie with just as good of an attitude.  I will be honest, my eyes got a bit watery due to pride as I saw her from the distance.

Especially as she ran past with a proud display of why she was running.

Luckily, sandwiched in between Melanie and Andrea we did have a Superman sighting, so there was no concern for their safety along the way.

Our next checkpoint was around mile 13 and was a bad news/good news checkpoint.  Good news is that both runners were going strong, bad news is that due to the difference in pace between Andrea and Melanie we missed Andrea so Mike and I quickly realized that we would not be able to share the car on the trip and so Mike headed off to the next checkpoint while I waited amongst the mosquitos and trees waiting for Melanie.  I was very relieved to see her coming downhill around the corner and even more relieved that she was still going strong and seeming to be enjoying herself enough for a photo with the moose patrol.

After Melanie was well on her way I found myself wondering just what in the hell I was going to do with a bad Achilles and no car.  So I did what any common sense person would do and I started walking.  Not sure where I was going I just decided it was better than standing around, but it did afford me the chance to experience the neighborhoods of Anchorage, which surprisingly reminded me a lot of my childhood home in O’Fallon.  So on and on I walked until Mike worked his way back and picked me up along the highway that I decided was a good idea to walk down.  At this point we decided it was time to become even more strategic with our viewing points and settled with one more checkpoint that we would see each of them at the same place and then head for the finish line.

This brings us to mile 21 and gave Mike and I some time to relax a bit and realize that neither of us had eaten the entire day, but it was hard to complain considering our wives were running an extreme distance.  After a while of rooting on the many different runners heading through the park, it was Andrea to first show coming down the running trail. 

After calculating the pace we decided it was time for Mike and I to separate again and he headed for the finish line while I continued to wait for Melanie and as impatient as I can be I decided it was time to head up the trail and find her to help me from stopping the worrying and sure enough as soon as I started up the trail there she was and so began my relief and given that Mike was off with the car again I for some reason thought it would be a good idea to try jogging along with Melanie.  Happily she was doing intervals of running 3 minutes and walking 1 minute and so I was able to keep up.

After keeping up with her for a little over a mile and not sure where I was I figured it was time to try to walk the rest of the way to the finish line thinking that cutting through the city streets would be the way to go.  The only problem is that I got completely lost and luckily Andrea had just finished and so Mike was on his way to rescue me, yet again, somewhere in Anchorage (I owe many thanks to Garmin).

After being rescued I hurried to the finish line in anticipation for Melanie only to find out that she was still a mile away so as before I decided to head out.  This is where I was called a jock strap by a helpful police officer.  Actually he joked that I was an athletic supporter, which technically I was, but I’m pretty sure he was alluding to the jock strap.  After finding Melanie I hobbled along with her until she got to the track and finished out strong by running the very last portion to the finish.

All in all, it was a great day to support my wife and friend in such a great effort.  I to this day remain inspired by what they were able to do, but just not inspired enough to do a marathon on my own.  Perhaps a half marathon next year after everyone recovers from our 2011 LLS fund raising campaigns (Watch for the future post on the Light The Night effort in October).

After Mike and I returned from our fishing trip we thought it would be a good idea to run to the grocery store and put together some goodie bags for our wives upon their completion of the marathon and our thoughtfulness was rewarded in great bounty when we spotted Abe Lincoln. 

Here is the photo that I discretely took from my phone.

I realize he is a bit hard to see, but I was attempting to be casual about it.  Fortunately Mike didn’t deem it necessary to be too casual and I wish I had an actual camera so I could have taken pictures of Mike as he boldly walked up and snapped shot after shot until he felt that he was close enough.

We had a feeling that in his state of mind he had no idea Mike was right next to him snapping away with his phone.  It’s a shame the way some of our presidents let themself go once they are out of office.

Day 2 found Mike and me separating ourselves from the ladies to head south a couple of hours to try our hand at some trout fishing on the upper Kenai River and we couldn’t have asked for better weather.  The drive down is the same path that we would be taking on our trip to Homer later in the trip and I had heard of the beauty and I must say that we were definitely not disappointed.  Fortunately, thanks to my injury, Mike was driving so I had the entire trip to sit back, relax and enjoy the view and I’ve got to say that there wasn’t any place you could turn your head without being impressed with what you saw.

The company that we fished with was called Drifter’s Lodge and that was appropriate given that we basically got in the boat and aside from a biological break we drifted for 7 miles downriver with our lines in the water switching between plug and fly fishing and alternating between types of beer.  Yes, beer has now worked its way into yet another story but not quite to the level of the last one.  But what else are you supposed to do on a float trip?  After three early bites, that is pretty much what the trip turned into…a float trip.  Mike got the first bite, which resulted in an extremely delayed response in a meager attempt at setting the hook that of course failed miserably.  I believe that I got the next bite where I thought I had the hook set as I got the fish within a few feet of the boat, but he apparently was only messing with me as he jumped the hook before I could get him in.  The final bite was Mike’s and he set the hook and after a couple cranks of the reel the fish jumped high in the air and worked himself free as well.  All of this was while plug fishing and twenty minutes later when we switched to fly fishing we realized that Mike’s last fish actually got away with the hook as we realized that since Mike’s last attempt at landing a fish he had been fishing with a hookless lure.

That was pretty much it for the action from the fish and further proof why it is called catching and not fishing.  However that did not ruin our day in the slightest as it was quite the relaxing experience to get out on the river in some incredible weather, relax amongst the great scenery, drink some good beer, and watch our guide struggle with pushing the boat back into the water over many different rocks after our aforementioned break.  Apparently he had never stopped before or never stopped at that particular spot before or never with a man of my size before, I don’t remember for sure, but his feet did seem to be quite cold while working through the effort.

Based on the form-fitting life jacket, it might be a safe guess that they don’t get too many people of my size on these trips. 

Apparently the mid drift break wasn’t enough for Mike and so he had to use the facilities upon our return to the lodge before we hit the road, unfortunately for Mike the lodge wasn’t complete with building the walls to the facilities, but at least he had some reading material.

On the way back we did stop off for a pretty darn good dinner where I experienced reindeer sausage for the first time.  Side note, I sure wish reindeer sausage was available down here.  While dining Mike ran into his old foe from the night before…the damn solstice.

But after a few drinks all was forgiven between Mike and the damn solstice, especially given the view that was provided at dinner.

Some interesting sites on the drive home that I didn’t include in the montage video above are this set of carvings we got stuck behind for a length of time…

This shot of the Alaska Railway running by, which I hear is quite the trip for the views and the ability to sit back and relax…

And then finally this beauty that Mike and I got stuck behind while we were in Anchorage working our way back to our hotel…

Hard to see in the photo, but she is actually wearing a very nice high heel.

Our first excursion in Alaska was partially covered with the summit flight and glacier landing and given how big of an experience it was I left out the other half of our day that included a brief stop in Wasilla, a nice lunch in Talkeetna, post summit drinks in Talkeetna, and several discovers…

Discovery 1:  In our car we quickly found that one of our passengers is perhaps the biggest admirers of Sarah Palin and he was consistently lobbying throughout the trip for the title of Chief Palin Apologist.  Mike was as giddy as a school girl when he realized that we were going through Wasilla.  If you look at the photo close enough you can see that Mike was taking a photo of the first sighting of Wasilla on the navigation system.

Perhaps the biggest smile of the trip from Mike, even bigger than when his wife crossed the finish line, was in this photo in front of Mrs. Palin’s hometown sign.

Discovery 2:  It was also in Wasilla, in a mad dash to get the picture in front of the sign before Mike passed out, that Melanie proved how great of a driver she was ON BIKE PATHS.  Somehow she managed to mistake the bike path for a frontage road and quickly made a left and kept on driving until we got to the sign.  In all fairness, it could have been the shrieking coming from Mike in the back seat that had her disoriented, fortunately there were no police around.  There are no images available for legal reasons.

Discovery 3:  When a construction worker tells you the road will be shut down for 30 minutes, they really mean only about 15 minutes and when you wave for Andrea and Mike to come back up from exploring because the road is now open you apparently have to tell Mike that you are serious otherwise he will continue to walk at his slow pace.

Guilty construction worker who happens to be a female in below photo.  By the way, it would appear that all road crews had a female assigned to work the signs.  No sexist comments implied.

Here is Mike at his leisure as we are all hustling to pile back into the car.

Discovery 4:  Mike is pretty damn quick when he sees the five cars in front of us start to move.

Discovery 5:  Don’t believe the “Photo Stop” signs in Alaska.  This was our first day exploring the great state and with Melanie at the wheel she saw a sign that would lead you to believe there was a photo opportunity ahead and so she pulled over.  Here is what we saw:

But we decided to take pictures anyway because the sign said so.

Fortunately a plane passed by so it wasn’t all a waste…that is if you enjoy a good plane picture like I do.

Discovery 6:  The Gillum’s camera, while awesome, is intricate and time consuming when trying to set up the timer in order to take a self-portrait.  Fortunately, thanks to a sharp learning curve, they were able to cut the process down from 10 minutes to 2 minutes after only a few tries.

The results, despite Mike looking erect, his words not mine; I do believe was quite worth the ten minute wait.

Discovery 7:  The best pizza in Alaska is in Talkeetna…across the street from where we ate lunch…and ordered pizza.

Discovery 8:  The local beer is INCREDIBLE!  After the summit flight the girls were so fired up they completely forgot about my Achilles injury and crutches and decided it was time to go on a hike and so they dropped Mike and I off in town at the local brewery to sample the local fare and sample we did.  I can’t remember the exact number of varieties, but there were at least 15 different types of beer brewed in the building right in this tiny little town and Mike and I did our very best to sample each one of them.  To be fair, they had a paddle with smaller glasses where you could sample each kind so it’s not like we were drinking a pint of each kind, but then again we may have taken a few trips through the sample platters.  I will say that by the time the girls got back I no longer needed my crutches and Mike was in a battle with the Solstice.

Discovery 9:  The Solstice can play tricks and do battle with your mind.  It is “dark” for maybe two hours of the night and that is usually around 2am and even then it is more like dusk and not dark.  Needless to say if you are sitting around having a few malt beverages it is 10pm before you know it and you have forgotten that you should eat.  What Mike didn’t realize is that the solstice will still create shadows.  I still don’t know what he meant, but he was pissed as he exclaimed his displeasure “The damn solstice keeps casting shadows.”

Discovery 10:  The ride back to Anchorage is so much shorter if you have been sampling Talkeetna’s finest brews for several hours…they help serve as a sleep agent.

(Editor’s Note:  You cannot see Russia from Wasilla, but Palin never made this claim.  She only claimed that you can see Russia from Alaska which is true from one of the far reaching western islands.)

Many years ago while sitting around my favorite drinking hole a buddy and I decided we would climb a mountain and what better mountain to climb than the highest peak in North America, Mt. McKinley or Denali for the locals?  Two months later I moved to Africa and so we changed our goal to climbing the highest peak in Africa, Mt. Kilimanjaro with hopes of eventually working our way to Denali.  Long story cut short, after Kilimanjaro I discovered scuba and my hiking boots discovered the closet.  So when Melanie chose Anchorage for her marathon my vigor for seeing Denali was fully renewed, just this time from the comforts of a plane.  Fortunately there are tours that fly out of Talkeetna, a two-hour drive from Anchorage (more on the drive and Talkeetna in another post) that will fly up and around the peak as well as the two neighboring peaks and then land on the glacier on the south side of the peak.  Along the flight we were able to see tents set up at base camp as well as another camp set further up the mountain.  Aside from the mountain we were mesmerized by the length of the glacier, the depth of the valleys, the heights of the surrounding mountains, and just the overall beauty of the entirety of the flight.  Given that this was the first day of our trip and our first excursion of many to come we were concerned that we may have peaked way too early in our trip.

A lot of people have questioned what type of plane we flew in.  First of all, it really wasn’t all that small as it sits (not necessarily comfortably) 8 including the pilot.  It does have skis on it, naturally in order to land on the ice of the glacier that are raised and lowered using a manual hydraulic pump.  Funny story, in my mind, about the pump is that during the flight to the glacier I noticed the pilot constantly working a handle in between the pilot and copilot seat.  Not being very bright, I could not figure out what it was and started thinking that perhaps it was for pumping fuel from one tank to another or maybe breaking ice on the wings, or who knew.  Sad to say it took me until the return flight to figure it out.  Anyway, below are a few pictures of our plane on the glacier as well as a few of the other planes from the tiny airport.

The flight out to Denali and the glacier was maybe 45 minutes and we learned all types of interesting fun things from the pilot, of which I can remember very little as I was in awe of the scenery and taking pictures.  I do remember that Denali is over 20,000 feet and was first climbed in 1903.  It is surrounded by about 6 other mountain peaks, of which I could tell you only Moose’s Tooth just because I liked the name.  The rest you can check out on Wikipedia or you can be like me and sit in awe of the beauty of the photos below.

Ok, so these photos aren’t so beautiful, just us “summiteers” resting comfortably before takeoff.  Notice Melanie resting comfortably in first class, otherwise known the back of the plane where they put the tiny ones with the survival gear “in case of an accident”.

Here is what I thought was my first view of Denali, only to find out it was just the beginning of a series of a few peaks leading up to Denali.

And here is my real first view of Denali.

The rest is just a series of photos where I fell in love with zooming in and out on mountain sides, glaciers, and snow…

After flying around and over several peaks for a bit we dropped down into a deep and beautiful valley hovering over a glacial flow that was recently measured at close to 4000 feet and then suddenly we turned the corner and “softly” put the skis down on the ice for a fairly smooth landing where my friends were more than happy to leave the recently crippled author hobbling close to the plane.  When we landed there was one other plane there, but before we left there must have been seven planes on the tarmac made from glacier.  It was fascinating how one yellow sled stuck in the middle of the glacier marked the “runway”.

Notice the yellow sled on the left hand side of the photo below.

My friends quickly left me behind…

And enjoyed watching me struggle with my injury in the ice…

I finally caught up with them, but I broke a sweat doing it and had to shed the fleece.

But in the end I didn’t harbor any ill feelings…

To give some perspective as to what is like to be on this glacier in the shadows of the tallest peak in North America, Mike and I were standing there just admiring the view and we heard a buzzing sound and started looking around and could not figure out what was causing the noise.  We looked around for at least a minute until all of a sudden it was like a plane had come out of nowhere.  The thing is that the plane had been in plain sight the entire time; it is just that the enormity of the space around us made it nearly impossible to spot it until it was directly upon us.  Can you spot it?

Before we knew it, our time was up and it was back on the plane and heading back to the land of the unfrozen.  Along the way I also fell in love with taking photos of the glacial pools that form along the flow as well as the textures that form on the flows.  I just wish the photos could capture how blue the water looked.

After the landing it was time to celebrate our successful “summit”, at least for the boys, and so it was time to head back into town for a few beers.  But that story will have to wait until the next post and perhaps until I purchase more space after using it up with all of these photos.

EDITORS NOTE: In an effort to save space I have tried to combine photos into “movies”.  Feel free to let me know your thoughts on how well this did or did not work.