Low Tide Critters

Today was one of the lowest tides of the year, a whopping -4.3 which occurred at 7:41 am this morning in Juneau.  A few adventurous friends and I explored the inter-tidal zone, which was teeming with critters of all shapes, sizes, colors, and textures. 

There are plenty of low-tide hot spots throughout Juneau, but for today we chose the area at Indian Cove.  To get there, turn left on the first street (Otter Way) past the Auke Bay Ferry Terminal.  Then drive all the way to the end of the street, and you'll see stairs leading down to the beach.  Easily accessible and spectacular views - rain or shine!

An abandoned crab pot.

Photography buddies.  Their gear is probably worth more than my car.

No wildlife were harmed in the making of this photo. 

Three course meal: sea cucumber, starfish, and fish head.  Yummo!

As I faced these rocks, I noticed they were towering above me.  Hard to believe they're completely submerged during high tide.

Little treasures.

Sea cucumber.

Fragility. 

Another lucky feather. 

Chiton. 

Photo courtesy of Becky Nelson. 

Five and five. 

Fresh bear scat.

With two lovely ladies, my good friends Becky and Kerry.

Life Begins at 30

It's hard to believe I turned 30 three months ago.  Feeling eternally young, I never thought that day would come.  But that day came - and went - and my 30th year has been spectacular so far!  

Robert Frost said, "Time and Tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty."  I couldn't agree more.

Here's to 30 and thriving! 

Balloons, coffee, and cards at my office.  A wonderful way to start the day. 

An array of goodies on the bar.

Deconstructed avocado and bacon wrapped scallops.  Ah-mazing!

Baked Brie en Croute.

Becky's Famous Rum Cake + Häagen-Dazs + Chai Cream Liqueur = decadence

With my sweet neighbor, Mary.

With my bestie, Mary.  Love this lady!

Battle of the Sexes!  We ladies won - of course!

Sonny Bunny tolerates my embrace.

Old Man Winter, Meet Stunner Summer

When I was in Anchorage just two weeks ago, it snowed.  SNOWED.  IN MAY. 

Apparently, Anchorage set a record for its longest snow season on record.  Well, I'm all for setting records and such, but SNOW?  IN MAY?  Gimme a break, Mother Nature.​

Juneau weather, on the other hand, has been spectacular lately!  Usually when our rain and snow gets to me, I escape north to Anchorage - where the weather is drier and I can get my fix on big city delights, like Nordstroms, Second Run, and Spenard Roadhouse.  But this latest trip was different.  Warmer climes were on the horizon for Southeast Alaska, so I was in a big hurry to get back to Juneau.

​I'm staying optimistic.  Summer is on her way.  I just know it.​​

That white stuff?  Oh, that's just a little snow.  In May.

Snow accumulation in Anchorage on May 17.  Photo and caption courtesy of Sharon Kim.

Snow at Echo Cove (north of Juneau) on May 17, 2013.​

And then there was summer in Southeast...

​FACT: usually the 7 and the 2 are switched.

Lunchtime shenanigans in the sun.​

After work R&R with a sleeping bag, juice box, and sun, sun, SUN!​ 

​Hanging out with Mary at Sandy Beach on Douglas Island.

Our version of sunbathing includes ​sweaters, qiviut scarves, and glam shades.  We were almost blinded by the sun.

​You know it's the end of winter when the sunroof is open.

IDITAROD WEEK: Snowmachine Trip to Safety Checkpoint

The last checkpoint on the Iditarod Trail before the Finish Line in Nome is Safety.  During my Iditarod week-long vacation, some friends and I decided to load up the snowmachines and make the 22 mile trek to Safety. 

It was a sunny blue sky day with temperatures hovering above zero.  It didn't seem that cold.  I mean, Nome was definitely colder than Alabama, but certainly not as cold as, say, Antarctica.  Or so I thought.  Once we got going on the snowmachines and were driving 40 mph against the wind, I realized I had never been so cold in my life. 

I thought I was prepared for the elements.  I was wearing silk base layer pants and shirt, fleece bodysuit, two sweaters, yoga pants, snow pants, two pairs of knee-high wool socks, Sorel snow boots, down parka, windbreaker, balaclava head covering, snowmachine helmet, Etip gloves, mountaineering mitts with handwarmer packets, and my qiviut nachaq.  Y'all, to say it was not enough is an understatement.  When we made it to Cape Nome, the wind was blowing 30 mph - and it was beyond unbearable.  At this point, I started wondering if I would make it all the way to Safety - or if I would ever be warm again.

Along the trail, we passed dog team after dog team, all on their way to Nome.  My crew and I pulled over each time to shoot videos and photos.  After all, it's not everyday you have the opportunity to cheer on Iditarod teams while they're on the last leg of the Last Great Race on Earth. 

At one moment, I jumped off the snowmachine and positioned myself to get a shot of a visibly exhausted musher before his team led him out of frame.  In my frenzy to shoot an epic video, I removed my glove to better angle my camera.  I mean, who has time for pesky gloves when you're busy capturing the moment of man vs. nature?  Within seconds, my hand turned red, and my skin was starting to freeze before my very eyes.  I'll never pull a stunt like that again.  But I think the video below was a good tradeoff.

All smiles as we prep for the expedition.​

Taking a short break on the frozen Bering Sea.​

My crew and I were so eager - downright desperate actually - for the special warmth and hospitality found only at the Safety Roadhouse.  The building was packed with checkpoint gear, happy fans, convos around the woodstove, and charming bathroom signs like "Go Make Yellow Snow." 

The trip to Safety was by far the best experience of my entire Iditarod vacation and one of the more memorable moments of my life.  I'd do it all again in a heartbeat - even with the frost nipped hands and nose.

In front of the Safety Roadhouse.​

Alaska parking lot.​

Important guidelines for patrons.​

The Safety Roadhouse also doubles at the Safety Checkpoint, last stop on the Iditarod Trail before Nome.​