Notes from Bizarro World

My parents (most likely my dad) used to have a pewter plate displayed near the dining room that read, "A Dinner Without Wine Is Like a Day Without Sunshine".  I kind of feel the same way about this blog.  A post without photos suffers the same bland fate.  John took the camera with him on his field trip to the Brooks Range, so I didn't get to take any pictures on my trip to Anchorage.  No stunning fall colors near Denali, no Onnie and Christa's wedding in Palmer, no capturing the cuteness that is Henry Kendall, or the physics-defying Sophie "Perpetual Motion Machine" Kendall.

Last week, we did a handful of house walk-throughs with our awesome realtor Joel Johnson (brother of Jeremy Johnson, whom I hope very much is reading this post and decides to invite me over to his place soon), and I brought the camera along.  But somehow, the only photo I managed to take on these tours was of some delphinium in a garden near a house that wasn't for sale.

I've seen Kaleb "Le Coq Sportif" and Sonja "Cherry" Kawasaki twice since my arrival, but no photos were snapped.  I think Kaleb is ashamed of our relationship and wants a divorce (we were married in French class in high school).  I'm fine with that, but Kaleb, please note that I expect a healthy alimony check coming my way if that's the legal direction you wish to proceed.

So, to make up for the lack of photographic evidence of the past two weeks of my life, here is a picture of my cat, Henry.

The vacuous look he's giving us, if you couldn't tell, is a cross between "Blue Steel" and cat apathy.

John returns tonight from the Brooks.  I'm making salmon for dinner.  I'm not sure where it was caught, but it's fresh and was given to my dad by one of his friends.  I hope it's as tasty as the Copper River red salmon that Elyse shared at last Thursday's BBQ.  (New goal for new Alaskan life: make dip-netting at Chitna a priority next summer.)

Last night, Le Coq Sportif, Cherry and I had dinner at a well-known, undisclosed restaurant on Goldstream, where we witnessed the spectacle of a drunk patron becoming a drunk driver.  The man was visibly swaying on his feet, but had the ability to string semi-coherent sentences together.  The bartender suggested he call a cab; the drunk was adamant about being fine to drive.  He left the restaurant, taking his (even drunker) companion with him.  We watched through the windows as he backed his red pickup truck out of his spot and straight into the ditch.  Incredulous laughter quickly turned into nervous titters and apprehension.  The driver managed to pull out of the ditch (trailing lots of grass, dirt and shrubs on his chassis) and head towards the road.  The hostess ran outside.  We could see her knocking on the window, asking for the keys.  But the truck soon pulled out onto Goldstream and they were gone.  I was thinking of Gene Bottcher the whole time, the restaurant's liability if something happened, and our responsibility as witnesses.  We stayed inside for another fifteen minutes, hoping to avoid them on the road.  As I drove Kaleb home, we noticed a ton of debris on the road, remnants of the truck's adventure in the ditch.  As I approached Spinach Creek, we saw the red truck pulled over near the rock/gravel pit past Jennifer Drive.  Driver and passenger were getting out.  When I passed by again on my way back, the truck was gone.  I related the story to my mom when I got home.  She said someone should have called the cops.  Maybe the restaurant didn't want to narc on a loyal patron.  Maybe we should have done something after the truck drove off.  I found out it was the same place that Bottcher had been at before his deadly DUI.

The big news (that I'm of course almost a week late in reporting) is that Lisa Murkowski trails tea-bagger Joe Miller (described as "Sarah Palin with a beard") in the Republican primary results for US Senator.  All of Alaska is atwitter about this news.  I spent the last six days listening in on discussions about the election results among the Guttenburg/Hopkins/Kendall clan (a family that lives and breathes politics).  I never thought I'd be pulling for a Murkowski, but my fingers are crossed for Lisa to overtake Miller when the absentee ballots are counted.  Despite the fact that the front-runner for the Democrats, Scott McAdams, is a reasonable, smart, and likable guy, if there were a three-way race, my vote would have to go to Murkowski, in order to prevent the disaster of Miller as Senator.  What kind of bizarro world has Genevieve voting Republican?  Welcome to Alaskan politics.

Arrival, a Departure from the Norm

We made it to Fairbanks last night around 7 o'clock.  I don't have the exact count, but the total trip was around 2300 odd miles ... some of them very odd indeed and riven with frost heaves, especially on the highway between Beaver Creek and the AK/Yukon border.  But we survived, thanks to John's superior driving (and my navigatrix) skills.


As of this morning, the contents of the trailer have been emptied into a storage unit (most of our stuff seems to have survived relatively intact) and we're in the process of cleaning out the RV to give to John's parents, the official owners of the behemoth.  I've actually grown quite fond of the old girl – apart from that voltage regulator business, she performed impeccably.

It's raining in Fairbanks.  Where is this 90 degree weather people have been raving about?  My dad says winter is on its way in ... and he's really not kidding.  There might be another two months (if that) before the snow flies and sticks.  I have to get in all the fall activities while I can.  Anyone in Fairbanks willing to take me along to their secret blueberry picking spot?

John is currently meeting with his faculty advisor, my dad is reading the paper (e.g. napping) and my mom is writing up a grocery list.  The cats are acclimating to their temporary home in the guest bedroom at my parents' condo.  My parents' cat Harley (Hellion of the North) has been banished to the garage until we can determine if the group (all four of them - it's a cattery!) can get along (signs point to no).  As soon as I'm done uploading photos, I'm off to do a very particular Fairbanksan activity: stand around at Fred Meyer (west siiide) and see if I can bump into anyone I know. 


Photos from our last days of travel:

Hazy, smoky skies courtesy of fires raging along the Cassiar

An airstream parked outside the visitor center in Whitehorse.  Isn't it pretty and shiny?  I think I want one.

I regret this was our only photo from Takhini Hot Springs. John and I decided to capture the moment of yellowjacket cannibalism in action.

Coming into Kluane.  That's no smudge on the lens, just bug guts on the windshield.

Our first glimpse of Kluane Lake.

Kluane Lake is so blue!

Sheep Mountain.  We forgot to stop and try to find sheep through the binoculars at the park center.

The view from our campsite.

Our campsite.  I'm not going to lie.  It was pretty much the most beautiful spot ever.

John decided to go for a dip in the lake.  He tells me it was brisk.  I'm just glad his heart didn't stop.

Despite the fact that the promised wifi didn't materialize, the campsite was still awesome (Cottonwood RV Park and Campsite on Kluane – cash only).  Also: note the awesome Rainier beer koozies.

Kluane River in the background.

I took this one for my dad. 

Bam!  Before we knew it, we were across the border and on our way to Fairbanks.  We debated having another night in the RV, but because of the lack of cash for a campsight and our excitement of being so close, we decided to press on.

As if to remind us of home and the beautiful weather in Seattle we had left behind, it started to rain.

And that was that.  "Fairbanks Welcomes You".  We had arrived.

So, we're here!  I admit I'm feeling a little unsettled and aimless.  I'm planning on unpacking (and then repacking/unpacking again once we find a house) ... and maybe making some pickles and jams/jellies with the last of the Fairbanks summer harvest.  Selena lent me a great cookbook with a pretty killer ginger/green tomato jam recipe.  There's a farmer's market happening this afternoon and my dad and his friends are getting together at 4pm for their usual Wednesday coffee hour.  I'm fighting the urge to go do both things.  Usually when I'm up here, I've got to cram in as much activity as possible or miss out.  But heck, I'm going to be here for years, I don't need to feel rushed.  I've got all the time in the world.  Alllll the time ...

I made an on-the-go playlist for our final two hours on the road in honor of our impending arrival.  John was impressed with my (mostly) thematic selections.

Bloodbuzz Ohio - The National
The Distance - Cake
60 Miles an Hour - New Order
Our Lady of the Highway - John Wesley Harding
Sympathique - Pink Martini (we've been listening to "Behind the Wheel French" so I had to get in some French lyrics)
Graduation Day - Chris Isaak
Low - Cracker (they play here in Fairbanks a lot, in case you're interested)
A Place Called Home - PJ Harvey
Into The White - Pixies
Back In The U.S.S.R. - The Beatles
such great heights - The Postal Service
End of the World as We Know It - R.E.M.
So Easy - Röyksopp
How Soon is Now - The Smiths
There's No Home For You Here - White Stripes
Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin
When It's Springtime in Alaska (It's Forty Below) - Johnny Cash
Over and Over - Hot Chip
Strict Machine - Goldfrapp (in honor of our behemoth, a very strict machine indeed)
Dry the Rain - Beta Band
Home - Edward Sharpe And the Magnetic Zeroes


This is how much time on my hands I have now – I'm writing out a playlist on my blog.

Stone Sheep and Bison and Bears, Oh My!

August 15th, 8:45pm


Fun fact: Liquor (and that includes beer) stores are closed on Sundays in the Yukon.  But the kindly Englishman-cum-Australian from the RV spot next to us gave us a Kokanee to share (this one's for you, Jeremy Webb!).

We left Liard at 10am and made it to Whitehorse by evening.  For us, that's a pretty long haul.  Some folks apparently told John that this trip would be like a second honeymoon.  I'd say that except for the constant bickering and stress, they were right!  Actually, we're getting along swimmingly.  And here's proof:

John made it to the hottest part of the pool using the secret magic of SCIENCE

I'm in the medium hot part of the pool

Post-soak

Along the way, we've seen lots of wildlife:

Stone sheep

Crazy roadkill-loving ravens

Bison

I'm most thankful for the wildlife we haven't seen: bears.  John saw one on the side of the road a couple hundred miles ago, but that was from the safety of the motorhome.  I'm super relieved we didn't run into any at Liard Hot Springs.  They closed the Beta Pool (just a few hundred meters away from the main pool) because of bears.

Problem bear!

That makes for serious soaking excitement.  After listening to Bowie in the RV, I made up some new songs to sing on the boardwalk out to the pool, to ward off any bears (This is Ma-juh Beahr to Grround Control) ... One of the members of the staff was using the boardwalk as his personal go-cart track, searching for his two dogs that took off after a bear this morning.  Not sure if he found them.

This reminded me of that bog with the dead people from Lord of the Rings, except with a golf cart

Cat update (because I know that's what you're really here for, Laura and Ed): all is well.  Henry is still freaked out and spends most of the day hiding (preferably underneath a sleeping bag):

Zaida likes to hang out under the table:

And Clancy is pretty cool with everything.

We're spending the night in Whitehorse and will head to Kluane Lake tomorrow, perhaps stopping at Tahkini Hot Springs along the way.  Until next time!

This shot was actually taken an hour or so before our voltage regulator malfunction, but I'm pretending it's a happy-trails-all-is-well-driving-into-the-rainbow-mood-setter for the end of this post.  You can pretend along with me.

On the Road Again

August 14th, 9am

Lots of posts en masse, in reverse chronological order.  Wifi is slow and unpredictable.  Stay tuned for exciting photos ... since I can't upload them at the moment, you'll have to settle for enigmatic placeholders until I get a better connection.  [August 15th, 7:30pm – photos uploaded! Bless you, fast Yukon wifi!]


August 13th

As it turns out, it wasn't the alternator.  Evergreen RV didn't screw us on that front (they had replaced the alternator a few weeks ago), but it was the voltage regulator that they had replaced that failed, and that's what stopped us dead in our tracks as we attempted to make our way to Moberly Lake last night.  The guys at Johnson's Industrial (HIGHLY RECOMMEND, especially at 7 in the morning on a Friday in the middle of nowhere, BC) suggested that Evergreen RV hadn't properly grounded the voltage regulator to the engine block when they replaced it.  John promises he's going to have a stern word with Evergreen RV (and hopefully a refund?) upon arrival in Fairbanks.

While the motorhome was being repaired, we played gin, crib and casino inside.  It was fixed by noon. Then it was a mere 400 miles (ish) to Fort Nelson.  The landscape looks more and more like Fairbanks as we drive north.  It's amazing to me that there are hundreds of thousands of square miles of boreal forest spread across Canada, Alaska and Russia.  Scrub spruce, birch and muskeg.  The fireweed flank the road like a red carpet, welcoming us home.

Fort Nelson is a highway town in the middle of a boom (my guess is from all the oil/gas development and construction).  We arrived at 8 o'clock on a Friday night, and the place was hopping with big ass trucks and youngish folks (mostly guys) fresh off work crews getting ready to go out on the town.  Is this what Fairbanks was like during the heyday of the pipeline?  The first RV park we stopped at (the Triple G – we definitely want to take a picture and send to Dan Savage) was full, so we stayed the night at the Blue Bell Inn.  I'm grateful they had an opening but not thrilled about the ice cold shower and crappy wifi.  John successfully maneuvered the trailer into a non-pull through spot. And I got to help John with emptying our dump tank – that made for some repulsive entertainment.  Some better fun was had after dinner playing "Mad Gab", a travel game that Carrie and Charb gave us.  RVing is wholesome fun!  Plus, there was wine.

Tomorrow, there's a farmer's market at the Triple G, then it's a leisurely two hundred mile drive to Liard Hot Springs.  Leisurely, except that we have to climb the rockies.  The behemoth grudgingly accomplishes climbs, but it does not like it.

August 12th, 9:40pm

We're pulled off to the side of Highway 29 outside Chetwynd, having attempted the Hudson's Hope Loop ... or, as John put it:

Captain's Log.
Ship ran aground on Dead Alternator Rock.  Crew safe but anxious.  Animal cargo unfazed.  Unfortunately, new moon tides may leave us stranded and unnoticed for some time.  At first light, will attempt to hail passing vessel for passage to nearby port.  Will leave first mate in charge.  That worries me (and the first mate) most.


August 12th, Morning

I think I saw a raven, but I can't be sure.  Too many years among crows have stifled my recognition skills.

We're getting an earlier start today than yesterday!  Dawson Creek, ho!

August 11th, Evening

I am writing this entry out in longhand first, since we regrettably lack wifi tonight.  Actually, I have no regrets. To get wifi, we would have had to stay at the Kokanee Motel and Campsight, which was a much less awesome place than Lac La Hache (Lake of the AXE!!!) Provincial Park, where we've pulled in for the night.  There's a fire ban, but the air still smells of smoke from the fires near Quesnel and Bella Coola (what pretty names the Canadians have for their places!).  We're a little behind schedule, per El Capitan's intentions. He had wanted to make it past Quesnel tonight, but a late start and frequent stops for gas put us behind ... but at least we avoided major mechanical issues!  We did struggle with some minor overheating.  But thanks to Saaby Saab's contribution of some coolant to this adventure, we managed to get back on the road.

We had some local Mt. Beglie High Country Kölsch (delicious!) and are currently trying to capture the essence of awesome of Thirsty Beaver Amber Ale.

Dinner tonight was a one-pot meal of jambalaya courtesy of a 5-7 year-old box of Zatarain's (I'm just guessing, but it probably came from the Fremont place and possibly came from the Queen Anne/Howe slum) and one package of pork shoulder that we picked up in Hope, BC.  Where is Hope, BC, you wonder?  Why, it's simply THE place in Canada to get this kind of exotic meal:

Hope also has a carved wooden bear (but something tells me that's not unique among BC towns):

... and ample street parking for our behemoth (that's me inside, waving!):

Just out of frame in the top picture are the drunks who were getting frisky and loud on the lawn in front of a local seedy motel.  Apparently, while I was inside waiting for John to bring home the bacon, some mounties stopped by to give them a good what-for, but I noticed nothing.  Dangerous, alcoholic bums?  Oh, Ballard, it's almost like home!

Cat update: all is well.  We haven't lost anyone yet, at least.  There was a moment when I thought that Henry had escaped while we were gassing up, but it turns out he was just hiding behind the cooler under the table.  Sneaky puss.  I know I worry too much.  But it's kind of freaky when you're on the road and can't find a cat and wonder if you accidentally forget to close a window or door.

This morning, I had jury duty. Obviously, I was unable to be there in person.  Note to King County jury selection officials: when I requested to be excused on the grounds that I would no longer be a resident of Seattle, I wasn't making shit up.  I'm so bemused that my request was denied.

We played cribbage tonight and I finally broke my losing streak.  Don't get me wrong – I'm still ahead in the standings.  Yes, John and I keep a running tally of wins and losses between us.  That's not weirdly competitive, right?

We're planning on taking a walk down to the beach when it gets a little darker tonight.  Hopefully, we'll catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor shower, which is supposed to peak in the next few nights and is especially prominent in the mid-to-high northern latitudes (according to John).

Two out of three cats are purring!  Oh.  One out of the two cats I thought was purring is actually snoring.  John says, "People said that 3 cats in the motorhome would be a big deal, but it's not.  Because they usually find the smallest space to crawl inside and don't take up that much space."

I'm going to regret not having a hot shower tomorrow.

On our beach walk, I saw three meteors and a beach frog peed on my hand when I picked it up.  Romance factor: +10

Day Two

The cats are acclimating, I guess.  They spent most of the night using us a landing pad from jumping down off the cab loft or as a springboard for looking out the window.  I have a gash on my leg from their claws.  First (and hopefully only) injury!

Look at that healthy glow...

Here are some photos!  I promise to take more exciting ones further up the road.

El Capitan

Getting used to their new home

O Canadia

There is some gorgeous scenery in this here British Columbia: jagged peaks; serene lakes; the majestic Fraser River.  We are currently enjoying the beauty of this land at the ever-so-primitive Cottonwood Meadows RV Country Club on the outskirts of the quaint little village of Chilliwack (population 81,000).  I managed to light the (propane) fire to boil some dried camp food (lemon pappardelle) and we sat down to a rustic (air-conditioned) meal.  I just enjoyed a vodka tonic ... but alas, sans ice.  Truly, we have left civilization.  I'm typing this on an old telegraph machine that's connected to Seattle via tin can and string, and not handy park-wide wifi.

So, we made it!  To Canada!  Only about two-thousand one hundred and fifty miles to go!  The motorhome is averaging about 7-8 miles per gallon, probably karmically canceling out our 10 years of Seattle recycling efforts.  Hooray for carbon neutrality!

John wanted me to make it very clear that in his errand running this morning, he did a lot more than just drop off two plants and make a stop at Goodwill.  I apologize for diminishing the veritable whirling dervishishness of his productivity.  Another shout out to Naomi for all her help in getting us out of our apartment!  And to everyone else who stopped by!  And here's to forfeiting our security deposit!  I've never done that before, and it's quite liberating.  Note to any responsible friends out there who might be peeved at our apparent lack of responsibility: we did not leave our apartment in a shambles.  We just didn't repaint the living room back from fired shrimp to rental white.  Our landlord was totally in the know about our plans, and pretty much agreed that with all the holes in the walls and wear and tear, they'd probably have to repaint (or redrywall) anyway, so my guilt is absolved.  Except when I think about someone having to scrape up 5 years' worth of cat-hair-spider-balls from the corners.  I feel a little bit guilty about that.  We vacuumed.  But you all didn't see the mammoth corner spider that Naomi and I found this morning.

Back to Canada.  The cats are still alive and contained inside the motorhome, therefore I count this first leg a success.  Zaida and Clancy are currently hiding behind the toilet and are ignoring the litter box we set up for them, but so far, no accidents, so I think they're just too stressed (and starving and dehydrated) to use it.  After a brief exploratory stint out of his cat carrier, Henry decided to return to the safety of his cocoon.  Actually, by now, Henry and Zaida are exploring again and are seeming less skittish.  I just accidentally released the flush lever of the toilet and it sprung back and hit Clancy in the face.  I think that's why he's not out here exploring.

The border crossing, in the grand scheme of things, was relatively uneventful.  But we didn't get an immediate pass.  There was no search, there was no threat of denial of entry, but we did have to go inside and talk to some guards about where we were from, where we were headed, vehicle ownership, and the difference between bear spray and mace.  Wait, what?  Mace?  I didn't know we had any on board, but there was a tiny can of it that came with the RV (those crazy Ukrainians!).  My biggest disappointment was that there wasn't a review or even a freaking mention of our precious and laboriously-prepared TRIP MANIFEST.

Krista, I want you to know that we couldn't wait and we opened up your care package.  It was truly a party in a box.  I only hope I can concoct something as awesome for you in the future (p.s. I might be recycling some of the things inside - do beernuts keep indefinitely?) ... we love you!

I bid you all goodbye/adieu.  I hope/espère that you/vous too/aussi can someday enjoy this beautiful, bilingual country/pays.  Vive le Canada!  Also, don't fuck with it.  Border guards can be intimidating no matter how courteously Canadian they seem.

Final Panic and Procrastination

It's 10:40am on Tuesday and we haven't left yet.  The trailer is almost full, the motorhome prepped, but we're still mucking around in our apartment.  Dealing with leftovers and kipple - this is always the hardest part of the move.  But Naomi is here – hallelujah!  I don't think we could have done this without her.

John is running errands and is dropping off a load at goodwill and some plants at a friend's house.  Goodbye tomato plant, I hardly knew ye.  Goodbye precious Ikea crap!  I'm so glad I hung onto you for 5 years only to abandon you at the last minute.

I'm hoping we leave this afternoon, but that may not leave us enough time to cross the border, so we might end up staying one more night.  We have our inventory (our TRIP MANIFEST, as John likes to call it) ... a list of all our boxes and their general contents, as required by Canada.  O Canada.  You won't let me take my ozette potatoes or more than 4 liters of alcohol into your land, but I still love you.  Here's hoping I get to see you today.