Sailing Away, Alaska Style

July 8, 2015

Mark Twain said it best: "Throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

What I've noticed from my years of living in the Last Froniter is that exploring, dreaming, and discovering are the cornerstones of many Alaskans' lives. Take my friend, Captain Louis Hoock, for example. He's got a zest for adventure that's infectious, so much so that he owns and operates Alaska Adventure Sailing, a charter company based in Alaska's capital city.

There are three things you need to know about Captain Hoock:

Louie served active duty sea service as a NOAA Corps Commissioned Officer aboard the NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette where he explored the farthest reaches of the sea.
His whistle is so loud, it could rival Guinness World records.
In 2010, Captain Hoock founded Coastal Footprint, a nonprofit environmental/scientific research organization. That same year, he sailed The Jolly Roger from Alaska to Panama - almost 5,000 miles away - teaching more than 40 people to sail while simultaneously removing more trash from the shoreline than the entire NOAA Marine Debris Program accomplished in 2010.

In May, I took a day sailing trip with Louie and his friends. It was the adventure of a lifetime. Aboard his well-appointed and comfortable 54' sailing vessel, the S/V Arcturus, we were in very capable hands for our day of exploration. Departing from the Douglas Island harbor, we traveled south of Juneau down the Gastineau Channel and tucked into Taku Inlet. It was a sunny, picture-perfect day for sailing around Southeast Alaska. There was also a bit of stand up paddleboard skiing, too - which was an absolute riot to watch from the dry deck. All-in-all, what a terrific experience that's now got me hooked on Alaska even more!

Check out Captain Hoock's website - Alaska Adventure Sailing - for your own adventure on the water.

[Click the photos below to expand]

May Delight

June 1, 2015

I remember May like it was yesterday. And it was - by far - the best month of May of my life. Maybe it was the fact that May 2015 was Juneau's driest May on record. Or maybe it was because every single day held an adventure that stirred my soul. Who knows why I loved May so much - but I sure know May loved me back tenfold.

Why was May 2015 so incredible? Well, let's see. It started out with a fun photo shoot at Eagle Beach with friends, Becky and Kerry. Not long after, I bought a roadster hybrid bicycle and spent sunny evenings exploring North Douglas Island at sunset. The Alaskan Brewing Co. rocked my socks off at their Spring Fling event, and the Sealaska Heritage Institute fixed the pit and hosted their grand opening of the Walter Soboleff Center. Cinco de Mayo didn't disappoint either, especially since Juneau had weather reminiscent of South of the Border.

I spent a wonderful weekend in Anchorage, catching up with foodie/bestie Sharon, multi-talented blogger Gretchen, and my incredibly hospitable host Cyndi. Cyndi is one of the best cooks I've ever had the pleasure of knowing - and that's saying a lot.

Back in Juneau, I hiked with old friends (Denali the Dawg) and made new friends (Sarena's precious Momma, Maggie, visited Juneau from Fairbanks). One of my closest confidants, Michelle, celebrated her 50th birthday, though she doesn't look a day over 32.

I kayaked the golden hour with award-winning nature photographer, Daniel Buck and cherished an action-packed weekend at the Becoming an Outdoors-Woman (BOW) event at Echo Cove.

Temperatures were regularly in the high 70s, and I couldn't resist soaking up the sun. I spent lots o' time in and around hawbaws (harbors) - like Auke Bay, Douglas, and Harris Harbors. To round out the month, I got my sealegs aboard the S/V Arcturus while sailing with Captain Louis Hoock of Alaska Adventure Sailing. As for the ICE-ing on the cake, I took a TEMSCO helicopter up to the icy blue Mendenhall Glacier for a Sunday afternoon walkabout, a trip that never gets old.

Every summer has a story - and this has been mine. Juneau in June is back to her rainforest self, yet adventure awaits around every corner. If there's anything this month has taught me, it is this: I am ready - rain or shine.

With two amazing women, Becky and Kerry.

Representin' the blue helmet on North Douglas Island.

Cheslea and Aileen rocking the sombreros.

Happy Cinco de Mayo from McKenzie and Candice (photobomb by Sonny Bunny).

Sharon in Anchorage with her tempura fried green tea ice cream.  Yummo! — Sharon in Anchorage with her tempura fried green tea ice cream. Yummo!

With Cyndi, the hostest with the mostest.

Sunset somewhere between Anchorage and Juneau.

Proof I'm not making up this temperature thing.

TEMSCO helicopter on Mendenhall Glacier.

At the helm of the S/V Arcturus. — At the helm of the *S/V Arcturus*.

At the bow of the S/V Arcturus. — At the bow of the *S/V Arcturus*.

Adventure Packed

May 27, 2015

I never thought I'd set foot in a packraft. Frankly, I hadn't even heard the term "packraft" until I moved to Alaska. And even then, I thought it was fantasy land - an adventure you only read about in books. At this month's Becoming an Outdoors-Woman weekend event, I learned exactly what it means to packraft - and I had the time of my time.

Packrafts are small, portable, and inflatable boats, designed to be light enough to be carried long distances. Along with eight other adventurous souls, we explored the edges of Echo Cove and the boundaries of Berner's Bay, a pristine location about 40 miles north of Juneau.

Starting out, we hiked for about half an hour across the warm Cowee meadows with our packrafts and paddles in tow. It was a pleasant hike, but we quickly found ourselves shedding layers with the unseasonably warm climate. It was 72 degrees and brought back memories of Alabama humidity. Before too long, we found a nice rocky beach, a perfect spot to put our pack rafts in to the chilled waters of the Cowee Creek.

Floating down the waterway, we practiced our ferrying technique, learned more about reading water, and worked to steer clear of boulders as we negotiated the creek. I had a blast with the group as we learned new skills together in a beautiful and breathtaking environment.

The whole packrafting experience was something I'm anxious to experience again soon. Next adventure on the water? Maybe I'll try my hand at fishing or crabbing from a packraft! Stranger things have happened, so stay tuned!

Kayaking the Golden Hour

May 14, 2015

As the old adage goes, do one thing every day that scares you. And that's pretty much how it began.

What started as a “let’s stay close to shore” excursion quickly turned into my first, long distance, open water, channel crossing of North America’s longest and deepest fjord.

Juneau has been blessed with spectacular weather this month, so I jumped at the chance to join my friend and internationally acclaimed, award-winning nature photographer, Daniel Buck, on a kayaking trip north of Alaska’s capital city.

Initially, I just wanted to get a seal’s eye view of the spot I had camped at a few weeks earlier. But as we paddled along the foreboding granite cliffs high above our 14 foot kayaks, the surge of adrenalin was unmistakable. My mind encouraged me to “just go for it.” And so it began. Baby steps transformed into leaps of faith which led to an unforgettable adventure of a lifetime.

We found ourselves leaving the protected cove and venturing out into open water. Little did I know at the time, but our kayaks were cruising above the historic shipwreck site of the SS Princess Kathleen, a steamship that met her dark watery grave just 63 years prior.

Unfazed, we scanned the horizon for the jubilant exhale of humpback whales, occasionally spotting playful harbor porpoises close by. With this remarkable encounter alone, my trepidation and fear of the unknown subsided.

As the waves catapulted us closer and closer to our wilderness destination, at one point with my rookie hand I felt the tide taking my kayak in one direction, the wind pulling me in another. Powering through, we arrived at the shores of Shelter Island after an ambitious and arm-clinching paddle. Completely worth it.

Securing the boats above the tide-line, we scrambled along the rugged and rocky shore to gain a higher vantage point on the ocean landscape we had just traversed. The first half of the journey was now complete, though it felt like a journey just beginning.

After some time exploring the island's unprotected eastern shores and doing a bit of beach-combing, we paddled back to the mainland, surrounded by God’s wonderland stretching as far as the eye can see.

As the sun set behind the majestic snow-capped peaks, the waters we had just conquered were bathed in the warm glow of the golden hour. During a particularly Zen-like moment, I paused in the middle of the waterway, letting the silence of the world engulf me, comforted only by the presence of nature and the sound of the cerulean waves gently lapping the boat.

There, at sunset, as the small kayak gently rode the ocean swells, I had a revelation. Growing up in Alabama, I lived an unexceptional life. Now in Alaska, I am living a life without exception - a life where each day I do one thing that scares me, strengthens me, and fulfills me. Where each day is nothing less than an epic adventure, all in America’s Last Frontier.