Wranglin' Wrangell

I spent the Fourth of July weekend in the rural and remarkable town of Wrangell, Alaska.  Along with a group of fun friends, we took the Alaska Marine Highway from Juneau to Wrangell, then flew back on Alaska Airlines a few days later.  Such an adventurous trip!  Here are a few observations and pictures:

- Hitchhiking is a widely accepted mode of transportation. We hitchhiked as a group four times and didn't die.
- There's only one taxi in the whole town, and it doesn't operate on holidays.
- Wrangell does the Fourth of July like a boss: street parties, lumberjack competitions, and one heckuva fireworks show (probably one of the best in Alaska).
- I need to start training for next year's logrolling competition.
- The egg toss competition is as messy as it sounds.
- For one day a year (4th of July), open containers of alcohol are allowed. When you order a drink at the bar, you can specify if it's for "here or to go."
- Everybody knows everybody.
- There are new friends to be made around every corner, such a wonderful trait of Alaska.

[Click the photos below to expand] 

Summer Solstice

I'm in sunny San Diego this week, spending time with dear friends and soaking up the warmth. As I meet new folks here, I've noticed I have the tendency to proudly announce "I'm visiting from Alaska."  In response, one of the top questions I've received here in Southern California is this: "Don't you have 24 hours of sunlight up there?"

The answer? Yes and no. Juneau (where I call home) doesn't have the 24 hours of summer daylight like most people reference when bringing up Alaska stereotypes. Juneau is situated in Southeast Alaska, far south of the Arctic Circle. Today on the longest day of the year, Juneau will see 18 hours and 18 minutes of daylight.

Compare this to spots above the Arctic Circle, such as Barrow, Kotzebue, and Fort Yukon, which will receive 24 full hours of daylight today. That's a lot of sunshine! Starting tomorrow, days will become progressively shorter until December 21, the shortest day of the year. 

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May Delight

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.

Fun with Becky at Eagle Beach.

Kerry in my hands.

With two amazing women, Becky and Kerry.

Representin' the blue helmet on North Douglas Island.

North Douglas Boat Launch at sunset.

With the ever fabulous Gretchen.

Site of the Walter Soboleff Center.

Siesta with sassy Sarena.

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!

With Cyndi, the hostest with the mostest.

A feast compliments of Cyndi.

Sunset somewhere between Anchorage and Juneau.

Denali the dawg.

Sarena and her sweet Momma, Maggie.

With Michelle on her 50th.

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Proof I'm not making up this temperature thing.

TEMSCO helicopter on Mendenhall Glacier.

Quenching my thirst with glacier water.

Auke Bay.

Harris Harbor.

Harris Harbor.

Cruise ships in the Gastineau Channel.

Harris Harbor.

Harris Harbor.

At the helm of the S/V Arcturus.

At the bow of the S/V Arcturus.

Adventure Packed

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!