Christmas at Home

Thanks to Molly, Amy, Leta, Ben, Jill, Joey, and a little dog named Matson, we had a great little Christmas at home this year.

After a delicious dinner of standing rib roast, cheesy potatoes, and asparagus (all prepared by the lovely and talented Mrs. Anastasia Hollenbach), we enjoyed some dessert and a dvd/book gift exchange.

All the photos HERE.

First Day of Winter

Today is the first day of Winter and what a fantastic day it has been.

First of all, it's still snowing. Yeah, no big deal to you Wyomingites, Coloradans, Michiganders, and the rest of you out there, but here in the Seattle area this is huge. It just doesn't do this here very often and when it does, it usually melts right away and we all go back to trudging through the darkness and the rain until Spring finally arrives.

This week, however, the temperatures have stayed below freezing and the snow has continued to fall. Everyone we know has been in a celebratory mood about it. Anastasia and I have certainly been loving it. Annabelle, she can't get enough of it. She tromps about, leaping and bounding through the white stuff, sticking her face in it, biting at it, and kicking her back legs out and "swimming" through it.

This afternoon, I walked Annabelle down the main street near out house, down to 167th Street, which is a very large, steep hill. It was closed of course due to the snow and many people were taking advantage of this closure, turning the street into a large sledding area. Inspired, I walked back home, grabbed the snowboard, and we all walked back for some fun on the hill.

Check out those and other photos from today's wintry good times HERE.

And now, the happiest dog on Earth:

Staying home on a snow day

It's snowing all over the Seattle area today, which means the teevee clowns are yapping about snow! and ice! and roads! and WINTER STORM SNOPACALYPSE 2008! Oh my! And the city pretty much shuts down because they're unable to clear the roads and anyway many of the roads are steep and turn to ice and the drivers can't drive because they don't know how so they throw up their hands and abandon their vehicles at the side of the road or even in the middle of the road.

Oh dear, oh dear. Well, I was going to go to work today anyway, but I talked to a couple people at work who informed me that it took them nearly two hours to get there and that the buses downtown are all backed up and stuck everywhere.

So I stayed home.

I walked Annabelle to the grocery store and got some eggs and milk and things for dinner later.

And now I'm just kicking back with Anastasia and our furry friends.

More Santa pics

Santa & his lovely assistant

Air!

Santa takes advantage of quiet time

Angry Santa

The Trials of a Pet Store Santa

When I looked down and saw the small pool of copper brown gel on the soft white cuff of my Santa uniform, the scent that had been offending me for nearly half an hour was suddenly made clear. Just to be sure, I brought the sleeve to within an inch of my nose for a little sniff. Yes, there it was. A decidedly potent Preparation H-like substance that must have come from the small, terrified dog I'd met earlier who would have nothing to do with me. As the dog had struggled and pushed away, kicking violently with its pointed little feet, it had slimed Santa with its anal gel.

After washing the cuff with soap and warm water, I could still smell the offensive odor. A further examination presented yet another smear of the brown slick mingling among the coarse white hairs of my beard, mere inches from my mouth. Luckily for me, a back-up beard waited in the employee lounge. Does this happen often? I wondered. Clean and newly bearded, I walked back to my post at the front of the store, thinking to myself that however sorry I felt for the little dog and its apparent discomfort, I thoroughly hated the human who'd set its exposed, hemorrhoid gel-covered anus in my arms.

During lulls in the photo-taking, I would occasionally walk outside for fresh air and wave at people at random. I would also wander the aisles of the store, often catching people off guard. I found it amusing to imagine someone suddenly seeing Santa in the corner of their eye, flipping through a book regarding the proper care of ferrets. It was during these expeditions that I made an interesting observation. Often, adult men would give me an accusing look as if to say, "Just who the hell do you think you are?" Women, however, would almost always smile and say, "Hi Santa," thereby proving my theory that all women want to sleep with Santa, which, comforted by this knowledge, is how I made it through two long days dressed as him.

Early on in my first day, I got very hot in my hat and beard, so I took them off. I was there for the pets, right? It wasn't long before the store manager came along and said, "You should never not be Santa when you're out here, especially when there are kids around." Not knowing what else to say, I replied grumpily, "They know I'm not the real Santa." Ultimately, however, she was right. After the first little girl lit up and exclaimed, "It's Santa!" my heart melted. From then on, the uniform became a weighty social burden and I did my very best not to let any small children see a Santa compromised by lack of beard or hat.

And then there were the other children.

As I sat on my bench, waiting for the next set of photo ops, a young boy stopped a few feet away and began pointing at me and calling me "a fake." That's how he said it too. "You're a fake! Mommy, he's a fake!" "No," she replied tenderly. "He's a helper. He helps Santa by working here and then he sends daily reports to the real Santa." I squinted and smiled agreeably at the boy, thinking this would be the end of it, but it wasn't long before he resumed his pointing and accusing.

Now, the beard I wore was held in place by a pair of elastic bands which stretched from my chin, over my poor ears, to the top of my head, the whole apparatus feeling much like a tight fitting jock strap meant to keep my chin firmly in place. I believe this is to keep Santa's mouth shut when faced with snot-nosed brats such as this one. Had the torturous beard not been there, who knows what I might have said to the innocent child. "Your mommy told me you were a mistake," came to mind. Or perhaps, simply, "Santa hates you."

But this was about animals, not kids, so I concealed my contempt for this little boy calling me a fake and instead concentrated on smiling for the camera and not dropping various cats and dogs as they squirmed in my arms. I met many wonderful dogs including a great big Newfoundland (or "newfie") who took up most of the photo, and an affectionate pug named Bruno who cleaned out my sinuses with his tongue. I even met a few charming cats. One cat, however, was very old and smelled as though it had already died, perhaps the prior day. It was sad, knowing that this would be its last Christmas, but the nice thing about a nearly-dead cat is that the expectations are quite low in terms of its on-camera performance.

At the end of the second day, tired and wondering what I had become, I was leaning against a wall outside the store, wanting a cigarette. I don't smoke, but something about the scene made me think I should have a cigarette hanging from my mouth.

My mood instantly changed, however, when I locked eyes with a young couple practically skipping toward the store with their dog, all three of them wearing the loudest red Christmas sweaters I'd ever seen. "I hope you're here for a photo," I said. They were so excited that I imagined they either must have been planning this for weeks, or they'd just had the idea a couple hours before and had managed not only to procure the hideous sweaters, but also to make it to the Petsmart on time, Santa waiting for them outside.

By the end of the weekend, a lot of people had left the store quite giddy to have a framed photo of their beloved pet sitting or squirming with Santa. Half of the proceeds went to Oasis for Animals, a local no-kill rescue organization. Once home, I took a very thorough shower.

Want to have your pet's picture taken with Santa? You still can (though, sorry to say, it won't be me in the suit). Simply find your nearest participating Petsmart and skip your merry way there December 13-14 and 20-21, from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. And be nice to Santa.

Closing Out the Weekend

Dog sleeps under coffee table. Cat nuzzles penguin. Man reads book by a mellow gold light.

I am thankful for

My wife, our home, our family, our funny dog Annabelle, my job, and my sister and her roommate Amy for hosting Thanksgiving this year. You done well girls. Thanks!

Check out Anastasia's blog for more Thanksgiving photos and recipes. And if you scroll down far enough, a picture of me dressed as a cow for Halloween (along with Anastasia as a milk maid).

November Sunset

Elliott Bay, Seattle

This IS Our Generation's Civil Rights Movement

Saturday November 15, 2008. National day of protest following the passage of California's unconstitutional Proposition 8, banning same-sex marriage.

Photos HERE.

Obama Dance Party in the Streets of Seattle

To the sweet sweet sounds of Journey.



Courtesy of toddblocksom.

A New Day

In Kathryn and Albert's living room, sipping red wine, watching the results come in. Making jokes because that's what you do in tense situations.

Electoral votes rising, rising, rising. Excitement growing.

And then

NBC very abruptly fills the screen with a photo of Barrack Obama and beside it, the words, "44th President of the United States of America."

A mistake. They must have hit the wrong button and brought the graphic up too soon. But then Brian Williams confirms it.

And we're sitting there--well, three of us are sitting there. Anastasia can't sit anymore. She's dancing--and our eyes are locked on the television screen. Is this real? Is this really happening?

Then we seen that Obama's electoral votes are at 276, then 284. Before long, the numbers climb above 300.

Oh my God. He did it. We did it. I can't move, so I pull Anastasia closer to me and begin hugging her leg while she runs her fingers through my hair. I'm trying not to cry.

With the exception of my wedding day, I can't remember ever feeling such profound happiness. Feeling so full of joy and hope. So proud of my country and of all the Americans who turned out in force to vote for a change.

This is amazing.

And yet, I still feel like it hasn't fully sunk in. It's a lot to process.

Last night, thousands of people in Seattle took to the streets in celebration. Separate gatherings marched toward each other and converged in an amazing display of human affection. Drivers who couldn't move because of the crowd, got out and hugged strangers and celebrated with them.

My heart is so full today.

An Open Letter to McCain Supporters

Dear McCain-supporting family member or friend,

I respect you and your opinion, but have to disagree.

First, the tax cuts that we all received under Bush were simply a bandage on a boil. There's a lot wrong with our economy and a temporary tax cut can only be a temporary means to ease the pressure of a growing problem.

That said, part of Obama's plan is to (A) cut taxes for 95% of workers and their families, (B) cut taxes for low and middle income seniors, the uninsured, and those planning for retirement or for college. All of this means that you and I (the shrinking comfortable middle class) will either see a tax cut or see our taxes stay where they're at. (To be honest, I don't know for sure if that means where they're at now, or where they were at prior to the supposed-to-be-temporary cuts). Again, these tax cuts are a bandage and Obama has said as much. To fix the problem, however, you have to do more than cut taxes.

As for redistribution of wealth, fair enough. Call it what you want. It's a fundamental difference between not only you and I, but the country in general. A person of extreme wealth may believe "my money is my money," or one may believe that those extremely fortunate individuals have a social duty to provide additional aid to those who need it. Personally, I believe the latter.

Capitalism is a tricky system. At its best, it allows people to succeed, expand business and support their family and local economy. At its worst, it can be argued that it is immoral and relies upon the existence of poverty. Don't confuse this statement as an argument for Socialism. I firmly believe that Capitalism is the best system there is. The problem is in finding a right (moral) balance between greed (hording wealth acquired off the backs of others) and community (reaching out to the less fortunate).

There is a common sentiment among middle and upper class whites to assume "less fortunate" equates to "less motivated." For sure, there are those people out there who will never work for anything, but I believe it to be a pretty damn insignificant fraction of those considered below the poverty line. To believe otherwise is to ignore White Privilege (a real thing) and an economic "trickle down" policy that has proven unsuccessful. Trickle down economics does not work. The widening gap between the haves and have-nots proves this.

Lastly, I'm not an economist. I don't fully understand the intricacies of how our system works. Anastasia pays our bills. I do, however, think I'm fairly accurate in my more big-picture assessment of things.

The population is growing. Cities are sprawling. The global economy has become so closely tied that what started as a credit crisis in the U.S. became an economic disaster half the world over. Things are changing and if we don't do something other than business-as-usual, it will only get worse.

Do I think the richest Americans have a responsibility to those who can't get a job? -to those who are stuck making minimum wage and can't get anywhere because for them there is no where to go?

Yes.

Respectfully,
Jack

A Walk Around the Lake

Greenlake was alive with color yesterday. Striking red and gold leaves lit up the sky, bringing smiles to the faces of our fellow trail goers. Took a little longer than usual to make the trek, as we (and others) stopped often to take pictures. Unfortunately, we only had our phone with us, so these will have to do for now.

Everyone from the impeccably fit to the man in his bathrobe with broken arm and bandaged face was out there. Even he seemed to be in a good mood.

Some folks jogged in their sexy little outfits. Others rollerbladed or glided along on shapely longboards. We walked with our dog Annabelle and lived both there by the lake and in our headphones with the soothing Sunday music of Arthur & Yu, Fleet Foxes, and Rocky Votolato.

We could lament about how that was probably the last nice day in Seattle for a while, but we know that's just not true. Even in the thick of winter we get the occasional gorgeous, sunny day when the mountains are bright white against the icy blue sky. In fact, tomorrow and Wednesday are looking to be quite nice. Why not duck out of work early and head to the lake? It's good for ya.

all the small things

in our kitchen, there is a drawer
___it sticks, so it takes a good tug to open
certain things belong in this drawer
___pens, coupons, menus, coffee filters
one day, I added a rubber band
___eventually, so did she
one day, she added a twist tie
___eventually, so did I
and now those things belong there too

And Then He Went--Back To Wyoming

I just got back from a wonderful trip to Wyoming. Dad picked me up at Denver International and from there we aimed the truck straight to Medicine Bow National Forest.

We didn't get a deer this time (twice, Dad had one in his sights--including a nice buck--, but never had the right shot), but it was a great trip nonetheless. We camped in a beautiful valley, alongside picturesque South French Creek. We hiked through golden aspens, fished in the shimmering, burbling creek, and talked about this and that by the crackle of our campfire. We spotted a family of moose numerous times (twice, they walked right beside our camp) and we were visited by a beautiful red fox one evening.

After a few days in the mountains, we drove to Cheyenne, where I was born and raised. I got to spend some time with Dad's wife, Penny, and their two sons, Cody and Tyler, and see their new house out in the country. The boys and I threw the football around for a few hours (had a sore arm after that!) and I got to meet a likable goat named Merle.

Click HERE for the photos.

Night Art

Oh the things you'll see when you're wandering Seattle after dark.

There is a block of buildings along Broadway Avenue in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle which will soon be demolished to make way for a Sound Transit Light Rail station. The tenants have moved out and, for the moment at least, these art installations have moved in.

Beer is Proof that God Loves Us

Last Saturday, in celebration of my friend's marriage, we went to Gallagher's Where U Brew in Edmonds where we made our own beer.

Full post and photos HERE.

Hiking to Snoqualmie Lake

Campsite at Snoqualmie Lake by Kathryn Ponio

We've already shared the first half of this hike with you when we posted about our trek to Otter Falls. That hike got us curious about what lay beyond. What would it be like to keep going? Keep walking past Otter Falls, past Big Creek Falls. Keep walking until you nearly reach the end of the Taylor River Valley and then climb the 1400 feet up to Snoqualmie Lake. Seems easy enough. On a map the lake looks to be only a few miles further up the trail from Otter Falls. What would that be? Seven or eight miles, tops? That's no big thing. Easy.

For us, it wasn't so easy. We set off from the trailhead a little later than we'd planned last Friday--about two hours later actually. Though, we didn't think much of it. We were excited. For the rest of the weekend we'd be relaxing in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. We'd go fishing. We'd sit around the campfire laughing with friends. Maybe we'd go for a swim, if the lake wasn't too cold.

As mentioned, the majority of this trail is fairly broad with little elevation gain. It's a leisurely stroll through a densely wooded valley. Occasionally, the trees move aside, allowing views of the Taylor River and the surrounding mountains. There are streams, waterfalls, and plenty of spots for dogs to cool themselves off and grab a drink.

About halfway down the main trail, it started raining. Softly at first, but as we got closer to the side trail to Otter Falls, it became a full-on downpour, the kind of rain we almost never see in Seattle. It wasn't long before we were soaked to the bone and we still had about four miles of hiking ahead of us.

At roughly five and a half miles, our party came to a sign pointing uphill. Snoqualmie Lake, two miles. That's it? Only two more miles and we'd be setting up camp and gathering wood for a fire. We knew the sun was supposed to set at 7:50 p.m. We knew we only had about an hour before then. But it's only two miles.

As the trail crisscrossed its way up the mountain, we felt we'd definitely make it. It wasn't long, however, before it got steep and our leisurely stroll became an exercise in not slipping on the wet rocks and muddy slopes. Our friend called out that we had twenty minutes before sunset and that we'd better hoof it. We hoofed it as best as we could, but we were sopping wet and getting more exhausted as the sky became darker by degrees.

Still thinking we had to be near the top, but not really knowing, we donned our headlamps, for it would soon be completely dark. We trudged along, putting one foot in front of the other, headlamps beaming a few feet in front of us at the rocks, the mud, the streams of water running across the trail from the heavy rain. Before long, it became impossibly dark as the clouds overhead horded for themselves any amount of moonlight that might be up there.

We lost the trail. After helping each other down a large boulder, we looked around with our lamps and all we could see were rocks. All we could hear was water as the source of the Taylor River rolled down the mountain ahead of us. We climbed back up the boulder, back to the trail and looked the other direction. More rocks. More water. We were wet, cold, tired, and frankly, a little pissed off. We turned back the way we'd come to find a place for our tents.

We didn't have to backtrack too far before we found a spot that would work. Our friends set up their tent on one side of the trail, a spot between two trees, just flat enough that they wouldn't slide down the mountain. We set up on the other side of the trail, mere inches from a small stream running downhill. There wouldn't be a fire this night, or dinner for that matter. After some cereal bars and a bit of whiskey, we climbed into our sleeping bags to warm up. Didn't sleep much that night.

In the morning, we packed up and finished the hike. When we got to the place where we'd lost the trail the night before, we could see why. The trail itself runs atop a rocky stream, and is marked only by a few small cairns and a bit of pink ribbon. In about half an hour, we made it to the top and to Snoqualmie Lake.

Once we made camp, the rest of our Labor Day Weekend was a blast. A little wet at times, sure, but we had occasional sun breaks and it never rained for very long. If you plan to build a fire up here (it's allowed, as Snoqualmie Lake is below 4000 feet), come prepared with fire starters and a willingness to scramble under rocks and downed trees looking for the dry stuff.

Getting there: Take I-90 to Exit 34, just east of North Bend. At the exit, turn left onto 468th Ave SE. Turn right at SE Middle Fork Rd (NF-56) and follow it about 12 miles. You'll come to a bridge crossing the Taylor River, and following that, a junction where NF-56 veers right. Continue straight another half mile to a small parking lot where you'll find the gate, the foot bridge, and the trailhead. Northwest Forest Pass required. Fill out a permit slip at the trailhead.

Annabelle at Snoqualmie Lake by Kathryn Ponio

North to Alaska

Friday morning. Sitting back, sleepy, looking out the window of the silver double-decker AmTrak train, watching the Puget Sound pass by in the morning haze. For a moment, we watched a bald eagle flying alongside us, clutching a large fish. I took it as a good omen of things to come.

We were on our way, Anastasia and I, from Seattle to Bellingham, where we'd board the Alaska Marine Highway's flagship ferry, the M/V Columbia. Our departure, however, was not until 6:00 p.m. So, we had a lot of time to kill in Bellingham.

Not wanting to stray too far from the ferry terminal we spent much of the day just a few blocks away in the Fairhaven neighborhood, a charming community full of old buildings, fancy boutiques, cozy cafes, and bookstores big and small. We wandered, we ate, we napped in the grass, ate again, had a beer, then made our way back down to the terminal to prepare for our departure.

The Columbia was built in 1974 by Lockheed Shipbuilding in Seattle. It is approximately 418 feet long and 85 feet wide, and is designed to carry 932 passengers and 186 vehicles. There are 103 cabins on board for those seeking a little more comfort and privacy during the long journey through the inside passage. It is the largest ship either of us had ever been on.

Upon exploring the Columbia we found it to be a lot nicer than either of us had expected. There are two comfortable forward observation lounges, a cafeteria-style snack bar, a very nice dining room which serves great breakfast and dinner options (we never ate lunch there), a cocktail lounge straight out of 1970's Reno (Anastasia made a great joke, asking if there would be "ferry-oke" in the evening), a small video game arcade, gift shop, theater lounge, and plenty of outdoor seating, including a heated solarium.

Many passengers set up tents in two designated areas aft of the ship, using duct tape to keep them from blowing into the ocean. Others simply rolled out sleeping bags under the solarium, or in the theater lounge, or in any other corner of the ship they could find. Not us. We got a cabin.

Our cabin was a modest little thing. Bunk beds, a private toilet and shower, a small vanity, a place to hang your clothes, and a window to the outside. A cozy space all our own, away from the wind and the nighttime habits of other people.

On our first evening at sea, we sat in the forward lounge, enjoying the view, eating sandwiches I made (we'd packed a soft-shell cooler with us--a move we heartily recommend), and stealthily sipping red wine from a shared Nalgene bottle. We smiled to one another. And we listened to the captain announce that someone's blue tent was about to fly away, that they might want to check on it.

There are two important things I learned on the ferry. First, the inside of the ship is not the best place to spot wildlife. Bundle up, grab the binoculars and go outside. Second, seek out those salty characters who look as though they've never touched a razor to their face. Say hello. Talk to them. They have stories to tell.

Early Sunday morning, we finally crossed into the U.S. waters of Alaska and around 7:30 a.m. we docked in the city of Ketchikan. This would be the only stop along the inside passage that allowed us enough time to actually get off and explore for a few hours. We were hungry for breakfast and anxious to walk on land after being on the ferry since Friday, so off we went in search of a diner.

After walking a while and looking over our map, we soon realized that downtown Ketchikan was about two miles away from the ferry terminal. No matter, we needed the walk. Once we reached downtown, we found that the best thing about our walk was that it enabled us to see the real Ketchikan--the one made up of fisherman, mechanics, and waitresses--real people and real businesses to serve those who actually live here. Downtown, however, was a different story.

Downtown Ketchikan, being the first stop along the Alaska Marine Highway, is a tourist trap of epic proportions. Three gargantuan cruise ships dock here, allowing thousands of people with "Alaska T-Shirt Company" plastic bags to ascend upon the many shops chomping at the bit for their money. Nearly everything here is new construction made to look "old west" and in any direction one sees at least a dozen jewelry shops. It feels like there might be more jewelry shops here than people. Worse, very few of them are locally owned and the items they sell have absolutely nothing to do with this region.

In the end, we did find a small local diner and after devouring a satisfying breakfast, we took a cab back to the ferry terminal.

The ship made two more stops that day, at the towns of Wrangell and Petersburg. The 45 available minutes of exploration time proved to be more than enough, as it was Sunday and most everything was closed here.

The rest of the day was spent doing the things we'd been doing all weekend on the ship. We played cards, read our books, listened to the Forest Service's excellent presentations on bears, glaciers, and other wild things. I spent a lot of time outside, taking pictures, talking to people, and generally just enjoying myself as I looked in awe at everything around me. At some point I realized we weren't going somewhere anymore. We were already here. One need only to look around to know that. The mountains, the glaciers, the wildlife. All of it larger than life. I'd already spotted a male orca, a handful of humpbacks, sea otters, harbor seals, Stellar's sea lions, and groups of Dall's porpoises sending their rooster-tail spray into the air.

At 4:30 a.m. Monday, we docked in Juneau. The Juneau ferry terminal, like most others in Alaska, is miles away from anything, so the only way to get anywhere is to either walk a mile and a half to the nearest bus stop or take a cab. Not being familiar with the bus system, we opted for a cab ride to get us to the airport where the smallest plane I've ever seen was waiting to take us over to Gustavus, a tiny outpost with no bathroom outside of Glacier Bay National Park.

After landing (alive!) in Gustavus, we were shuttled over to Glacier Bay Lodge's handsome accommodations near the waters of Bartlett Cove. We both needed a nap at this point, but the room wasn't ready so we ate lunch and went for a short hike through the woods, keeping an eye out for bears all the while. Soon our room was ready and we went to sleep for a couple of hours.

We'd signed up for a "dinner and whale watching" cruise before our nap and we're glad we did. This was one of the big highlights of our trip. At 5:00 p.m. we boarded the double-decker catamaran and said, "Salmon please," when asked if we preferred the salmon or the chicken. We were in Alaska, after all. Who would ask for the chicken? The dinner was splendid, served with garlic mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, and eye-poppingly tall glasses of wine.

As we finished our meal and donned our jackets and warm hats, the excitement began. We were crossing Icy Strait and were almost to Point Adolphus, a place the lodge called "one of the most renowned whale feeding grounds in the world"--a grandiose statement, but absolutely true as we were about to find out.

I can't quantify how many humpback whales we saw that evening. Lots of them. There were at least two pods out there, including a calf or two. The calf was the most fun to watch. It was very playful, rolling around, lifting its head out to get a look at us, and breaching numerous times, seemingly for the fun of it.

For short periods the whales would disappear entirely as they dove, circled, and rose again to the surface, all together in a "bubble-net" feeding maneuver. We'd see six, seven, eight whales at a time, arching their backs gracefully into the water, a stubby dorsal fin followed by their sleek, shapely fluke, rising out of the sea and disappearing again. They'd blow water ten feet into the air and you'd hear it from hundreds of yards away. And they made noises I'd never heard before. Bizarre, emphatic exclamations about how great it is to be a whale.

We awoke early the next morning for our second cruise. This time an 8-hour tour of Glacier Bay. As per usual in Southeast Alaska, it was raining, but we tried not to let it bother us too much.

The catamaran left Bartlett Cove, moving southwest around a group of small islands, then north into Glacier Bay. On this day, we really bundled up with warm hats and multiple layers. Good thing, because the further into the bay we went, the colder it got. The rain and gray skies may have actually made this part of our trip better. The heavy rain created hundreds of small waterfalls, cascading down the steep ice-carved mountains surrounding us. The gray overcast skies made the dense blue ice of the glaciers that much more vibrant. At times, when the clouds hung low over the gray-blue glacial sea, the scene became otherworldly.

The glaciers were awe-inspiring, but what really got us excited was the wildlife. From South Marble Island to the Grand Pacific Glacier, we observed Stellar's sea lions, harbor seals, Dall's porpoises, tufted puffins, cormorants (a black, duck-like bird), and countless other species of bird.

When I heard there was a brown bear off the starboard side, my heart nearly jumped right out of my chest. The two animals I really wanted to see on this Alaska vacation were the humpback whale and the brown bear. Instantly, when I heard the words "brown bear," I ran to the other side of the boat, slipping twice and nearly falling on my rear. There he was. A big beautiful brown bear, paying us no mind, just walking along the rocky shore. At one point, the bear couldn't negotiate the rocks any further, so he lowered himself into the water, swam about ten yards, climbed out and then shook himself off like a gigantic dog. We watched him for a few more minutes as he made his way along the shore. And I couldn't stop smiling for the remainder of the day.

As it was explained to us many times during our trip, brown bears and grizzlies are really one in the same. Biologists (and most Alaskans), however, refer to the bears of the interior as grizzlies and the coastal bears as brown bears. One reason for this distinction is because the coastal bears tend to be larger than the interior "grizzly" bears. This is because coastal brown bears eat a lot of salmon and other fatty, protein-heavy foods. Kodiak bears are also of the same species, though, some biologists argue that they're a unique sub-species because they are geographically and physically isolated to Kodiak Island.

For more bear viewing, we'd considered chartering a float plane from Juneau to Camp Creek on Admiralty Island, but we ultimately decided the cost of the plane was beyond our budget for this trip. Native Tligits call this island "Kootznoowoo," meaning "Fortress of the Bear," as Admiralty Island is home to the highest concentration of brown bears in the world. Maybe next time.

We returned to Juneau that evening and checked into the Capitol Inn, a beautiful bed & breakfast located across the street from the state capitol building. After talking a while with Linda, the owner, we tossed our bags and made our way down to the waterfront for dinner. At Linda's suggestion, we found The Hangar. If you're ever in Juneau, eat at The Hangar. What was once an open-air waterfront hangar for sea planes--back when the place was owned by Alaska Coastal Airlines--is now a cool restaurant with views of Gastineau Channel and the mountains of Douglas Island. The place has a great vibe, really good food, and a lot of different beers on tap.

Wednesday morning, we joined Linda's other guests for a family style breakfast at her big dining room table. "There are a couple rules at my table," said Linda. "First, no leftovers. Everyone clears their plates. Second, no religion and no politics." We laughed and agreed those were good rules. We passed around plates of pancakes and sausage and carafes of juice and coffee. We talked about what we were all planning to do that day. A family from Seattle was heading out to Admiralty Island to watch the bears feed on the salmon runs. A couple from Brazil was headed home. This breakfast marked the end of their Alaska adventure.

We got to talking with some folks across the table and realized we all wanted to see Mendenhall Glacier and the black bears, often observed feeding at Steep Creek, a short walk from the Mendenhall Glacier Visitor Center. We decided to travel there together and we decided further that a trip to the Alaskan Brewery afterward would be a good idea.

Mendenhall Glacier is just one of 38 huge glaciers that flow from the 1,500 square mile Juneau Icefield--North America's fifth largest accumulation of snow and ice. From the Icefield, Mendenhall Glacier is pulled by gravity, grinding its way downward 13 miles to Mendenhall Lake.

The glacier was stunning, but we had bears on the brain. We set off on the short, elevated trail above Steep Creek, a common feeding ground for Black Bears. Unfortunately, we didn't see any bears here. I asked a park ranger if he'd seen any today. "No, not a one today," he replied. "You shoulda been here yesterday. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet!" We could easily imagine. As we'd walked around the trails we'd seen dozens of salmon carcasses strewn atop large areas of matted down grass.

After a brief stop at the Alaskan Brewery where we sampled a variety of tasty beers (I "sampled" the same beer three times), we caught a bus back to downtown Juneau where we found lunch and a lot to explore.

"You guys missed it!" Linda yelled. We'd barely walked through the front door of the bed & breakfast before she was in front of us, telling us all about the bear in her kitchen. "I was standing over here by the stove," she said quickly, motioning to the side of the kitchen furthest from the door which opens to the patio outside. "I hear something behind me. I turn around and holy shit! There he was. He's been here before you know. Well I threw my hands in the air like this"--Linda reached both arms straight up toward the ceiling--"and I yelled, 'Get outta here bear!' I tell you that bear turned right around and ran right out that door."

Anastasia and I stood open-mouthed and wide-eyed as Linda went on.

"I shut the door quickly behind him and took a moment to catch my breath. But I could see he was still out there, so I threw open the door, went out a few steps and again yelled, 'get outta here bear!' That's when he charged me." Anastasia gasped. "And a ran back inside and shut the door and I was just so pissed off at myself for not holding my ground! I knew it was probably a false charge. I shouldn't have ran. I should have asserted myself."

To me, that's the key word: "probably." It was "probably" a false charge. We'd heard many times on the way to Alaska about bear behavior and false charges. According the experts, about nine out of ten bear charges are a bluff. And with bears, you never run. You always stand your ground. Unless, that is, you've got a kitchen door right behind you and you're worried about that one out of ten chance that the bear isn't bluffing.

Linda went on to show us the dirty paw prints on the outside of the door and then the claw marks on the tree outside from previous visitations.

That night, as Anastasia and I lay in bed reading, we heard yelling outside. We immediately wondered if it was Linda and if she needed help. I opened the window to the street below and then heard a man yelling to his dog, "No! Leave the bear alone!" I pictured this poor black bear, sitting up in a nearby tree, probably scared and wondering when this damn dog was going to go away.

And that's Alaska for you. Even when in town one must be aware of bears.

The following morning, we all sat down to breakfast again, except for the family from Seattle, who had gone bear watching on Admiralty Island the day before. Nobody had heard them come in during the night and they were nowhere to be found this morning. We worried a little about them having to spend the night out with the bears, but it was hard to worry too much, because Linda had made us a mouthwatering breakfast of King Crab Benedict, with a light hollandaise sauce that had just the right amount of flavor so as not to overpower the delectable crab meat.

Not long after breakfast, the missing party came through the front door, looking chilled and happy to be back. Their float plane couldn't make it in the previous night's weather. They were rained in. Lucky for them, there was a cabin on the island where they spent the night with a couple of park rangers. A small part of me is envious of their adventure, but then I remember that I spent the night in a warm, comfortable bed and woke up to a breakfast of King Crab Benedict.

At 4:00 p.m. Thursday, we boarded the M/V Malaspina, bound for Skagway, the northernmost community of the Alaskan Panhandle. The ferry ride from Juneau to Skagway may be the most beautiful part of Alaska's Inside Passage. The surrounding mountains launch straight out of the water and seem higher than those we've already seen. Often, they are capped with snow and ice from which glaciers creep to the sea. Some glaciers end abruptly, thousands of feet up, the ice melt becoming waterfalls taller than any I've ever seen.

Skagway is a small community of only about 900 full-time residents. This population doubles in the summer months to accommodate the over 900,000 visitors to the area. It's clear this is a tourist destination right when you step off the docks. The great thing is, however, that over 100 of the buildings making up the historical district are original buildings from the days of the 1898 Klondike gold rush.

Skagway's perhaps best-known resident was a man by the name of Jefferson Randolph "Soapy" Smith. Soapy was a big-time con man who thought of himself as a "Robin Hood" of sorts. On the surface, Soapy was the nicest gentleman one might ever meet. He stopped lynchings and even gave money to widows and "fallen doves" (ex-prostitutes). However, Soapy also lead a group of thieves who bilked rookie prospectors of their money with cards, dice, and slight-of-hand games. He also ran a telegraph office that charged five dollars for each message sent to "anywhere in the world." Problem was, there was no telegraph service in existence to or from Skagway until 1901.

Skagway's greatest attraction is the White Pass and Yukon Route Railroad, a narrow-gauge railroad (meaning the tracks are closer together, allowing for tighter turns and less mountain-blasting) that winds its way through the Skagway River valley and up 2,864 feet to historic White Pass, British Columbia. The train once operated all the way to Whitehorse, the capitol of Canada's Yukon Territory--word is, Canada is working to re-open their end of the route.

The train ride to White Pass was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. The sun was was even shining.

Upon return, Anastasia and I had a great time exploring historic Skagway. We walked the wooden sidewalks, ducking into local art shops, and we each had a burger and a couple of beers at the Skagway Brewery.

At locally owned Skagway Art Works, we found a framed print that we both loved, called Raven Feather in Snow, depicted in the native style of the region. It's a beautiful piece, now hanging above our fireplace.

We also each purchased a silver ring, portraying the Eagle and the Raven, their beaks touching. Eagle and Raven symbology plays a major role in native Tlingit culture and folklore. One might think of them as a similar concept to what the Chinese call the Yin and Yang. The Eagle is all business, representing power, peace, and friendship. The Raven, symbolizing creation, prestige, and knowledge, is also known as a playful trickster. Additionally, Tlingit tribes are broken up into clans, the two most prominent being Eagle clan and Raven clan. Historically, Tlingit people have always arranged marriages between the Eagle and Raven clans.

When Eagle and Raven are portrayed together, their beaks touching, they are known as the Lovebirds.

On Saturday, we ferried back to Juneau and on Sunday we flew back to Seattle. On one hand, it was great to be home. We were exhausted from all of the traveling. On the other hand, it was hard to leave Alaska. We'd seen so much, but had also just scratched the surface.

We'll be back.

For all of our Alaska photos CLICK HERE.

1,000 Miles to Juneau

This Friday, Anastasia and I depart on our Alaska adventure. We've got our rain jackets, a new camera, and a cooler of food and beverages. We're ready.

Our trip starts early Friday morning as we take a bus to downtown Seattle where we'll then get on a northbound train to Bellingham. The Ferry to Juneau departs at 6:00 p.m.

Lots of photos and a full report when we return. See ya!

Capitol Hill Block Party in Brief, Les Savy Fav in Briefs

The block party was a blast, but we're tired now. Read about it here!

Viva Park City

Made a quick trip to Park City, Utah this week for a work function. It was so great to be back in my old stomping grounds, even for only a couple of days. The weather was gorgeous, the food and wine delicious, and the people I met from other offices were really fun to be around.

Not long after taking off from a slightly overcast Seattle, we were met with this lovely surprise--Mt. Ranier:

The Goldener Hirsch Inn, where I stayed:
A couple shots of the wind sculptures outside our meeting area:

Ya Know, Ninety-Six Degrees isn't so Bad

When you're doing a backstroke in the crystal clear waters of Lake Wenatchee.

New Front Yard

2 weekends, 2 men, 1 woman, 3 rentals, 4CY compost, 4CY gravel, untold number of beers.

After lots of hard work and incalculable brawn, the new front yard is in.

There are still a few things to do, including the stone pathway, but if you're curious, HERE ARE THE PHOTOS.

Sasquatch! Photos

Three days in the sun. Three days of music. It was a blast, but I was sure happy to be home afterward! Here are the photos.

Sasquatch, Here I Come

It's almost painful sitting still these last couple days leading up to Sasquatch Music Festival.

This year marks the first time I will have attended a multi-day festival like this. Sasquatch runs three days this year and I'll be there for the whole damn thing! Should be interesting to say the least.

Anastasia and I will head out there together Saturday morning. Come Sunday, however, she's abandoning me and heading back to Seattle. I'll be rocking and camping with friends for two more nights and returning to Seattle sometime Tuesday.

And now, here is the Sasquatch Survival Guide I wrote for Seattlest yesterday.

See you soon you beast of a weekend...

Incredible Weekend

Stasia's parents, Paul & Kris, have been visiting us this past couple weeks and it's been a blast! We've had a lot of fun with them and have done too many things to list here with my current energy as it is.

For a recap of all the fun we had this weekend, click HERE.

The Magical Mystery Poo

Stasia and I went up the stairs the other day to check on Lily, the pregnant cat we're currently fostering. Stasia arrived on the scene first, saying, "Oh my god, you have to see this."

What I saw was staggering. Perched on the side of the litter box was a massive turd, standing upright, like a miniature brown snow man.

I have no idea how this cat managed to do this. It is a feat of incalculable proportions.

A Surprising Email in My SPAM Folder

What's Up?

Good afternoon, well-behaved citizenry.

It's Sunday and I'm sitting on a blue couch writing to you. The dog is napping somewhere. The cat is napping somewhere. The wife... is napping somewhere. I'm in my headphones, listening to a band called Arthur & Yu. They're an Indie/Americana duo from Seattle and their sort-of new album, In Camera, is fantastic.

The cat and dog don't really deserve their naps as they haven't really accomplished anything today that would warrant needing a nap. Anastasia, however, ran a 5K this morning; the St. Patrick's Day Dash. So, I'm letting her rest up while I read and relax a bit myself.

Pretty soon I'll be heading to the kitchen. Our office is having a St. Pat's pot luck lunch tomorrow and I'm pulling out all the stops. I'll be making in Irish Quick Bread and a double-batch of Guiness Beef Stew. Mmm...

In the meantime, I think I'll get back to the book I'm reading: 1776 by Pulitzer Prize winning author, David McCullough. As I'm sure you can surmise from the title, it tells the story of the Revolutionary war from both the British and American perspectives. I'd picked it up while just killing time in a bookstore downtown and by the time I was a few pages in, I was hooked!

Why I Love Jon Stewart

Yeah, it's an old video (2004), but still relevant and still warms my heart.

Perfect Weekend Away from it All

Just had a fantastic weekend with our friends Ryan and Tiffany at and around Mt. Bachelor, Oregon!

Check out the PHOTOS.