A Home

I have formed a theory this summer about taking pictures.
Before this summer I felt bad that I am so horrible and negligent at taking pictures. I degraded myself when I would come home from a great trip and only have about five pictures. I felt horrible that I could count with my fingers the number of pictures that record my year and a half long relationship. But here's the thing. I have come to realize that I don't take pictures because I'm too busy experiencing it. I don't take out my camera and take a picture of my friends, that glacier, his fish, etc. because I'd rather look at them with my own two eyes. Now, I know that there is a way to experience an experience fully while also taking pictures, but I am not good at that. I either take fifty million pictures (because, heck, if my camera's out might as well make up for lost time) or I take maybe three. And I've become aware of the fact that only having three pictures is okay. Those three pictures can jog my memory of that time that I was really taking in what was happening. The smells, the feel of the air, the sounds. That's what I did this summer. I experienced things. Fully. Yes, I took some pictures, but those pictures will never be able to show anyone what it actually felt like to be there.
As I took my last Alaskan bike ride yesterday I reflected on the things that made this summer what it was. And I would like to list them:

1) The Trips/New Adventures
We went on so many great little mini trips this summer. I'd list my favorites, but I would just end up listing them all. We got to travel all around Alaska: Seward, Denali National Park, Seldovia, Homer, Girdwood, etc. Whether by car, bike, boat, train, plane, ATV or foot, Alaska never ceased to amaze me. Many of these mini trips would not have been possible had it not been for....

2) My Job
Here at ARAMARK.....
My job this summer was unbelievable. Megs and Dillon (my immediate bosses) are crazy cool. They were so chill and made the work environment totally relaxed. Weston and Philly (my coworkers) made me laugh. They made me really laugh. I'm going to miss that. Carol (my big boss) is generous like mad. She was the one that set us up on several trips and I will forever be grateful for all she did for me this summer. But this job would not have been possible if not for.....

3) Aunt Lyn/Summer Family
I got my job at ARAMARK because Aunt Lyn is very good friend with Carol. This was a handy connection. Aunt Lyn is also connected to my summer family which consisted of she, Uncle Stuart, Mk and I. Uncle Stuart and Auntly Lyn opened their home to us this summer without question. They were outstandingly generous in this way and I marvel at how easily they provided food and shelter for me all summer. I am blessed to call them my family and I am thankful beyond words. And this family would not have been as full if it had not been for.....

4) Mk
Mk came to Alaska with me this summer. I don't think I'll ever be done thanking God for that. Mk made every experience that I had here at least ten times better. Having her here made me realize the importance of a companion. Many days we went hours without directly talking to one another. Not because we didn't want to speak to one another, but because the silence wasn't stifling as silence sometimes is. It wasn't awkward. It just was. When there was something to say, we said it. But sometimes it was the beauty of the landscape, the end of a good, long work day, or the sun streaming through the window that did all the talking. But somehow, since she left last Thursday, those same silences aren't bubbling with conversation as much as when my friend was here. I think half the magic of being in Alaska has sprung from having someone to cherish it with.

I will never, ever forget this summer. I saw things, went places and felt things that I had never seen, gone or felt before. There were times when I laughed so hard my ribs hurt and there were times that I thought this summer would never end. But here we are. My bags are packed. And I get on a plane tomorrow that will take me to the next chapter.

Even so, Alaska will always have a piece of my heart. I don't think anyone could stay here for longer than a month and not feel the same way. There is something in the air here that makes you feel stronger. It makes you feel like you could discover something new or blaze a fresh trail. It makes you feel like if you must leave, you know that coming back is not an if but a when. Leaving this place for good is not an option because when you leave it you will feel like, even if it's just in a small way, you just left behind a home.

The Way I Am

You know that feeling you get when you're going down one of your first ski slopes and you accidentally do french fries instead of pizza? You're flying down that snowy/icy slope completely inhibited and out of control. Your senses are sharpened as if your brain wants to make sure and remember every last second of its life, because at this rate, the end is most likely near. But then all of a sudden you're back on level ground in one piece and you feel like somehow you cheated the system by making it down. Some people live for that feeling. I don't.

Last evening Aunt Lyn took Mk and I out to Kincaid Park to do some mountain biking. I've been doing a good amount of biking lately so I was excited to do some off-roading as opposed to the nice paved trails that I usually ride on. Almost immediately I rethought this excitement as I fell into some prickly Cow Parsnip after being bounced off my bike seat by some evil, tricky, jutting roots. But I wasn't going to let it bring me down.
As we biked along the dirt trails for a while I began to realize a pattern in my behavior. Going uphill was a harder on my muscles, but it was much easier on my brain. It felt good to challenge my legs and feel the burn. But when we were at the top of a hill all of my muscles tensed and I became jittery and spastic. I would feel like this until we were finally slowed down enough to pedal again.
Just as I was learning that I obviously dislike going downhill greatly, Aunt Lyn yelled over her shoulder, "Niagra's coming up!" "Oh man," I thought, "This puppy's going to be hard to bike up if it's called Niagra." Then Aunt Lyn stopped. As I slowed down and stopped next to her I realized that Niagra was not a steep climb, but rather a sharp downhill. Aunt Lyn had stopped because she wanted to give us some tips on riding down Niagra safely. Her safety tips just caused me to become more frightened. If this hill needed directions, then it probably didn't need me to careen down it. But there was only one way back to the car.
Seeing my fear, Aunt Lyn nicely asked me, "Would you like to go first?" At this question a scene quickly flashed through my mind: I'm flying down the hill, the wind in my hair. Oh dear, I've hit a rock. Oh dear, I'm being thrown off my bike. Oh dear, Aunt Lyn is riding over my arm and goodness gracious Mk is being thrown off her bike because she hit my recently evacuated one. "Nah, you guys go first." At least that way if I go down, I won't bring anyone else down with me.
Mk and Aunt Lyn both kicked of and screamed and giggled down the hill. I tried to smile, but decided that a game face was better for this situation. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and went over the edge.

I made it to the bottom of that hill and back to the car safely, but on the way down I felt that feeling. As I've matured I've realized something: Just because it's cool to say that you like to fly down hills called Niagra on your bike or, say, that you enjoy jumping off of 40 foot cliffs on the weekends, that doesn't mean that you have to actually do it. God didn't make everyone the same. Therefore, some of us would rather bike on a paved trail or stay in the boat. And that's just fine. I'm proud to be a scaredy-cat. It's just the way I am.

An Accomplishment

This past week has been a long one. I worked six days straight this week, five of those being 10 hour days. Yes, my job does use low amounts of physical activity, but after being at the office for a while you do actually begin to feel that long-car-trip feeling. So when 6 o'clock Friday afternoon was on the horizon, I wasn't trying to find anything to get in the way of my worn-out body connecting with a soft couch. But I've found that God rarely sets up life so that we get everything we want.
Aunt Lyn has a flight attendant friend, Julie, who lives at Aunt Lyn and Uncle Stuart's house when she is in Anchorage. She is one of the sweetest ladies I have ever met, and I love my conversations with her when we happen to be at the house at the same time. Around 4 o'clock Friday afternoon, Julie called me and asked if Mk and I would like to join her on a hike up Flattop Mountain: The Most Hiked Mountain in Alaska. All of a sudden there was something obstructing my view of the horizon. Unfortunately it was a 3,510 foot mountain, and it wanted me to climb it while getting to spend time with Julie. I quickly weighed the pros and cons of the situation. The pros began gaining weight instantly, especially after taking a look outside at the sunny and 70 weather. Finally after a short deliberation, it was decided that going on the hike was the best idea.
The hike turned out to be wonderful. At the end, aspiring peak-reachers are required to do just a bit of light rock climbing to arrive at that wooden pole that signifies victory. At this point, I knew that if I looked down that I would probably have a heart attack and die so I decided instead to keep my eyes on the prize. I am happy to say that I made it to the top of my second mountain last evening and I feel pretty good about it. We even got an unexpected treat while we were enjoying the view from the top. A paraglider allowed us the pleasure of watching him throw himself off the mountain and soar gracefully back down.
Now, last time I got myself to the peak of a mountain, I didn't have to hike back down because a handy-dandy helicopter wisked me away to flat ground. This time, I was not so fortunate. BUT I am pleased to announce (to my undoubtably millions of readers) that even for the steep descent and shifting pebbles, I did in fact make it all the way back down to the parking lot without my bum connecting with the ground. There may have been a couple scares, but all in all I stayed upright the whole way down. And that, my friends, is what I call an accomplishment.

Stable and Healthy

I've never been a big fisher. I never really understood fishing, honestly. When I think of fishing, I imagine sitting on a bank of a pond somewhere in the booneys sipping sweet tea and maybe barbecuing at the same time. It was always a past time that I didn't necessarily feel the need to take up. I've realized at this point in my Alaskan career that everything here is just a bit different than I expect or what I've experienced before. So when Mk and my BP intern friend, Kristine, asked us on Thursday afternoon if we wanted to come down with her and a couple other interns to Homer and go on a halibut fishing charter I thought, "I have no idea what to expect, and this could be super crazy. But, we're in Alaska for goodness sakes. Let's do it." So we did.

We left Friday afternoon to drive the four hours to Homer. We got there in time to have dinner, set up camp and watch a beautiful sunset. We were supposed to report at 5:30 the next morning to our charter to take off and catch ourselves some fish. Mk and I got up at 4:45, got a glimpse of the moon actually shining for the first time this summer, and made the longer walk to the nice bathrooms that had flushing toilets and warm water. It seemed like a good start to a good day on the ocean. Then we got on the boat.

The Foxfire started out onto the open seas. I was tired, so I laid my head down and slept for a few minutes only to have my head lifted from my arms several times due to the sudden lapse in gravity at the top of a steep wave. Again and again my stomach jumped up into my throat as our little ship sputtered and tumbled further away from the solid ground that I was now wishing was underneath me. It was an hour and a half ride out to where the halibut like to roam, and I was checking my watch every five minutes. I thought, "Surely once we finally stop I will feel better." But then we stopped.


I looked out the window. This boat was definitely going to tip. How could we stay upright when these waves are trying so hard to make us roll over? But the smiling deck hands, Megan and Kendall were beckoning us to come out on the deck and grab a pole. Seriously? I stumbled out onto the deck. A walk that should have taken about five steps took me about twenty-five steps and three knocked over people. A pole was thrust into my bare, cold hands and Kendall cheerily chatted about how to let out your line and such things. I was having trouble listening because I was too busy focusing on not dying and keeping my stomach where it should be. I let out my line. And then my stomach wanted to come out too.

Seasickness. Don't do it.

Four out of the five of the people that I went with got sick. Out of every passenger on the boat, I would say at least two out of every three people got sick. Who knew fishing could be so extreme? Now I do. Even so, I got my fish. After emptying my body, I was able to better stand and reel those ugly suckers up from the bottom of the ocean where they like to roam. We were only allowed to keep two, Alaskan Fish and Game rules. I hooked four, but I kept a 12 pounder and a 20 pounder. I got my fish pretty quickly, so I picked a spot on the front of the boat and waited until the engine finally started up to take us back to land. It was a trip that impacted me greatly, and a story that I will have for the rest of my life.

I might want to try that booney, sweet tea sipping kind of fishing now. That seems a lot more stable and healthy.

I Suppose

Ever felt like you're burning 10,000 more calories than you ate for breakfast? Ever felt like you're rubbing the first layer of skin off the back of your ankles because you're going so steeply uphill? Ever climbed a mountain?

Before July 4th, if someone asked me these questions I would have said, "No I have not, and I don't think I will. Who wants to do those things if you could be drinking a robust cup of coffee and reading a good book safely in the shelter of your very own home?" But. If you ask me those questions now I would say, "Yes, yes I have."

Every July 4th in Seward, Alaska there is a race that many fight tooth and nail to get registered for. Now, why people fight so hard to get in this race I'm unsure because running up a mountain and then flailing back down the same mountain doesn't sound like a party to me. But sports has never been my thing. The race is called Mount Marathon and so is the mountain on which the race takes place. Aunt Lyn volunteered herself, Mk and I to help hand out water to all the exhausted runners at the top of the mountain. So that's what we did. How did we get up there? You guessed it. We hiked. And hiked and (panting) hiked.

Now, physical activity that doesn't involve a leotard and tights has never really been my strong suit, so when I heard that we were going to hike a 3,000-something foot tall mountain I thought, "I wonder what would happen if I just didn't make it." This thought also occurred several times during the hike. But luckily I have an Aunt who loves me so much (and who had a knee replacement a year and a half ago) that she hung behind with me. The other hikers, including Mk and her fit runner's bod, took off faster and made their way in a speedier fashion to the peak. Aunt Lyn and I decided that the slow and steady route was probably better for the both of us. I probably should have eaten more than a forth of a muffin and a single strawberry for breakfast, but with the help of an encouraging Aunt, a full Nalgene of water,  and half a package of energizing goo, the peak was finally under my feet.

You may be wondering how we got back down. The logical answer would be that I had to hike back down, right? Well, not when you have an Aunt with friends in high places. Instead of risking our lives sliding back down the mountain on the loose shale, we climbed into a cozy little helicopter that gently taxied us down to sea level once again. It wasn't the longest helicopter ride out there, but it was cool enough to check that off my bucket list. And really, that's all that matters to me I suppose.

As Great as Flowers Are

This past Tuesday through Thursday Mk, her mom (who came up from Dallas to visit for a week), Megan, Taylor (Megan's visiting friend also from Texas) and I ventured back up to Denali National Park. This trip was much more relaxed than last time we went up to visit. This trip we went on an ATV tour, went on a hike through the wilderness, went rafting, and went on an interpretive hike. Now, you may be wondering what the difference between the two hikes was. I will tell you.
The day started off promising. I thought to myself, "We don't need to go on the interpretive, touristy bus. We need a shuttle. To take us out to the wilderness." In Denali National Park, you are allowed to hike wherever you want. There are very rarely trails because they don't want to disrupt the wilderness. Mk and I wanted to blaze our own trail. On our way out into the park on the shuttle, Mk spotted a lynx on the side of the road and calmly pointed it out to me. We were saying, "Oh! That's pretty cool." But we were fine with continuing on. Except the lady behind us (obviously several months behind us as far as Alaskaness goes) began to practically hyperventilate from excitement and began screaming, "LYNX, LYNX STOP THE BUS I MUST GET A MILLION PICTURES OR ELSE I WILL DIE FROM LACK OF ALASKAN WILDLIFE SHOTS!!!!!!!!" Or something like that. The same thing happened when a moose was spotted. I thought to myself, "That moose is very small, and I feel superior to these silly tourists who don't know what a real moose looks like. I'm more Alaskan than any of them."

Sinking into the permafrost

So, after these encounters I was feeling pretty good about trekking through the wilderness. I was much more rugged comparatively and felt rather prepared to face whatever we might stumble upon. Mk and I hopped off the shuttle about an hour and fifteen minutes into the park and took off. We were feeling rather adventurous as we bounced through the tundra. Even though the brush was attempting to steal our jackets and the ground was a bit wet, we didn't let these small set backs bother us. We were stronger than the brush and our invincible hiking boots were keeping our feet cozy and dry. But after a little while we realized that there was another enemy that we, embarrassingly, had not accounted for.

Mosquitoes.

At the top of the hill

After realizing that we had not brought bug spray I was astonished at how confident I had been in my Alaskaness before. Any good Alaskan knows that going hiking at the end of June without bug spray is basically asking to lose a pint of blood. But, we, still in our baby stages Alaskaness,  had managed to forget that small detail. Because of this, we could take no breaks or else the mosquitoes swarmed for a meal. We hiked to the top of a hill, and even with the breeze they were relentless. Therefore, our hike was cut a little shorter and our pride was lowered to a more reasonable level.

The hike the next day involved a guide with a can of bug spray and an extremely well-maintained trail. Pretty different, I would say. But when it comes down to it, I will probably remember being moved forward by a swarm of mosquitoes longer than I will remember being told the names of various flowers. As great as flowers are.

Where I Am

Since we spend so much time at work, all of us in the reservations section of the office have gotten to know each other pretty well. We all have our nicknames because it's easier and more entertaining to use nicknames rather than formal first names:

Megan (our boss boss): Megs, Megs and bacon, Megs Benedict, Megnificent, etc.
Dillon (our boss): Dill, Dill Pickle, Dill the Pill, and my creation and personal favorite--Mr. Shnarks
Philly: Well, he's just Philly. But sometimes you can just say his name 10 times in a row and that works.
Weston: Apparently his nickname is Babe, but we just usually stick with Weston.
Mk: Mostly just Mk. But some attempts that haven't stuck are: E and EP. Her nicknames need a little work.
Me: K-dawg, K-slide, Kathy, etc.

These are the names you would hear shouted around our side of the office. You might also hear phrases such as:

"Here at ARAMARK..."
"I'm stayin' in Denali."
"Philly, do you know where the bathroom is?"
"Who's Michelle??"

It is also possible that you would happen on Philly and Weston complaining about how hungry they are while Mk and I munch away on our peppers and hummus or granola bars or truffles. In addition, you might hear Megan's extremely contagious and unpredictable giggle from her office. Or you might catch wind of Philly making his native bird calls while Megs promptly shoots the imaginary birds out of the air.

Near the middle of the day you would most likely hear singing from the four manifest agent cubicles. Nine times out of ten that singing consists of songs from musicals such as The Lion King, Wicked, or Les Miserables. And nine times out of ten we are told to turn it down because we are singing much too loudly.

Toward the end of the day, around 5 or 6 pm,  when the only people who are left in the office building are Mr. Schnarks, Mk and I, you might hear a lively discussion between the three of us regarding life goals, the difference between free time and priorities or the relationship between opinions and advice. Usually it's just Dillon attempting to prove whatever Mk or I say as wrong, hence his nickname. He does not do this maliciously, though. As he confessed today, he just likes to be argumentative, and that he is.

On any given moment in our office you might hear laughter. Whether it is from a joke, a prank, or a silly face, everyone in our office enjoys a good laugh and it shows. I couldn't have picked a better place to work this summer, and I am thankful for where I am.

Soon Forget

Apologies for the lack of posting lately. I like to post when I have inspiration. I don't like to give 50% when I tell my adventurous Alaskan stories, I want to give you 100%. If I don't have inspiration, then I have a hard time giving my 100% therefore a lack of posting develops. But the inspiration fairy visited me this weekend when I traveled to the small town of Seldovia for a biking/camping trip.

As with all my adventures so far in this great state, this was no normal biking/camping trip. This was a trip with 11 ladies in their 40s and 50s from Aunt Lyn's church biking group. These ladies were wise, athletic, and completely crazy. Seldovia is an island that can only be reached by boat or plane. We took Mako's Boat Taxi from Homer Spit, Alaska over to our cabin on the shore. We then proceeded to jump into our bike shorts and onto our bike and rode the 9 miles into town to eat dinner. Now, that may sound like not such a big deal, but to Mk and I, this bike ride was, to put it simply, challenging. If I thought that I had met monster hills in Anchorage, then I was unaware that I was existing in a munchkin hill land. Seldovia was a giant hill land and the giant hills came out to play. These hills that we were supposed to bike up were so steep and so large that I could barely make it up them simply pushing my bike. Now, I know that I'm not in the best shape ever, but I'm telling you, these hills were only for the crazies. Which is why these women mastered those hills like there was no tomorrow. As I watched them pedal past me (panting from rolling my bike up the hill) each pedal forward they took I felt myself being hammered lower and lower into the plank of humility. Sure I may be young and spry but these later-middle-aged women were strong and fearless. I was humbled and amazed.

And then I enjoyed flying down the hills on the way back.

The part that I most enjoyed about this trip was exploring the island during low tide. The tide changes were huge near Seldovia--a 21 foot difference in fact. That meant that during low tide we could basically go explore the bottom of the ocean. And we did just that. There were some large rocks on the shore during low tide that were teeming with ocean life that we admired for at least an hour one day. We saw everything from Barnacles to Christmas Anemones and everything in between. We could also walk over to the small trickling tide pools and search for the sand dollars that liked to hang out there. I found upwards of 20 sand dollars dead and alive!

I also enjoyed the campfires, stories, laughter, running Mk out of our tent by snoring too loudly, and sunbathing on the deck of our little cabin. I did not enjoy the stinky outhouse, stepping on sharp shells and my therma rest going flat. But overall the trip was phenomenal and a weekend that I will not soon forget.

Win the War

This is a blog post about a hill. This hill is steep. This hill attacks you right when you wish you were going down hill. This hill is mean, this hill is cruel and this hill is feisty. And we've gotten to know each other lately.

The first time I met this hill was one of the first days that I was here in Anchorage. "Would you like to go for a bike ride?" Aunt Lyn asked. "Why yes, indeed I would," I said. This was the bike ride that I wrote about in "And I Like That." But in that post, I failed to mention this hill.

When I am on a hike, or a walk, or a bike, etc. and I am on a trail in which the plan is to turn back and retrace our steps to the beginning point, I am constantly keeping track of how many times we go downhill. Maybe it's because I'm lazy. But maybe (and this is probably more likely...) I keep track because I just need to know how much energy to save for the trek back when those downhills become treacherous uphills. Yeah, that's probably it.

So, the first time I met this hill I was enjoying how it was swiftly propelling me into the wooded trail that would eventually lead us to our office in town. But when I got to the bottom of that helpful hill the gravity of what had just taken place hit: I would have to climb that steep, stubby monster on the way back.

When we finally turned back around, and made our way past the now familiar playground, metal gorillas and meandering stream, I knew that the battle was about to begin. That first battle was hard. I put a lot of sweat and angst into that first bike up that hill. And it was hard. Afterwards my legs felt a bit numb and I had phrases such as "I can't go on!" and "I think I'll just lay down right here," floating around in my bike-helmeted head. But I knew that I would meet that hill again. This wasn't over.

In the past week, Mk and I have biked up that hill twice. I will admit that that hill won the very first battle, but after defeat I then knew what was in store. The second battle (this past Monday), I lost less feeling in my legs and I was more determined to push on and not let that hill slow me down. The most recent battle (today) I believe that I was inching towards a victory, but I'm not quite there yet.

But you know what they say, this hill may have won a couple battles, but I am determined to win the war.

Thank Goodness

The past week has been packed full with activity. After Denali, we had to get right back to working 8 to 6 Tuesday through Friday. Then, on Saturday morning, Aunt Lyn invited Mk and I to come with her to the little town of Hope for a bike race that she was helping run. We got up to leave at 7:15 in the morning and headed over to watch the teams race off. After sitting in the cold and seeing the expert men racers come back to the starting point only to turn back around and do the 25 mile loop over again, Mk and I decided it was time for some action. So we jumped in Aunt Lyn's car and drove into the crazy, raging party that was Hope, Alaska.
According to the 2000 census, Hope has the staggering population of 137, so we were a bit nervous of being swept away by the crowds. Hope was just beginning what they call "1st Saturdays," which is an art festival that they hold every, well, first Saturday of the summer months. Mk and I were lucky enough to stumble upon the very first one. We saw numerous types of paintings, jewelry, hats, sculptures and psychedelic tie-die Ts. Everyone in the town seemed to have made something. Literally.
It also just so happened that it was their Library's 25th Birthday and we got to mingle with the locals and help them celebrate. We got really excited when we saw the big cake and were told, "Go grab a piece!" We weren't so excited when the cake they chose had globs of strawberry goo in the center for...taste? appearance? Who knows, but to put it bluntly, it was a bad idea. Even so, we enjoyed carrying around our pieces of half-eaten cake and prentending like we knew what was going on while sifting through the book sale: $1 for paperbacks and $2 for  hardcover. If you know me at all, you know I couldn't pass up something like that. So of course I bought a book (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, for those of you who are wondering) and have been enjoying it so far. We ended the day in the big city by having a conversation with a local about her house which used to be a barn for mules that they renovated and added to. That's pretty cool I guess.
Mk and I then drove back to the beginning of the race and picked up Aunt Lyn. The three of us grabbed some soup at The Bake Shop in Girdwood and hit the trail. But this was no ordinary trail. Oh no. This was a trail to a super special hand-tram. With this super special hand-tram, one can pull himself across a rushing gorge that runs 80 feet below. Chilling, I know. When you're in a situation in which you can easily imagine your death, I think your heart blows itself up just a little bit as if to say, "Not me, not now, look how big and powerful I am!" My heart definitely did this the first time we pulled ourselves across. But we made it to the other side and my heart stopped pretending to be bigger than it was and all things were back to normal size. Thank goodness.

God Loves You and Me, etc.

So we're back from Denali National Park and had to return to real life today. But boy oh boy what a trip. Carol ended up offering for Mk and I to stay up in the park an extra day, so we didn't get home until yesterday evening around 9:30. Everyday was packed from dawn until dusk...or I guess from lowest sun point to lowest sun point...? We were exhausted and hardly ever stopped giggling (for lack of sleep) and most likely got on everyones nerves. But we had the time of our lives.
We tagged along with the Central Reservations crew for ARAMARK from Phoenix, Arizona. This was their first time coming to the park and doing/seeing the things they were selling on the phone. Therefore, they were treated as Kings and Queens. Carpets were rolled out and there were small robed children fanning them and feeding them grapes along the way. Somehow Mk and I were able to sneak into the fringes of the group and convince everyone that we were indeed Princesses, just from another Kingdom . The small robed children fell for it. So did every other ruler that we came in contact with. We were treated extremely well by everyone up in the park. We got all of the free gift packets and were told to order whatever we wanted at most meals. The only thing that I spent money on was ibprofen and water to wash it down with. This was due to sinus pressure that thought that it would be funny if it attacked me in the middle of the trip of my life. To counteract, I pulled my "extreme fun" card, and the sinus pressure would cower during the day while that card was in play until nighttime and morning time when he would retaliate with a vengeance. Nevertheless, I won out in the end because I enjoyed my trip to the fullest.

My favorite part of the trip was the flightseeing over Denali (or what most of you non-locals would call Mount McKinley). The grandeur of God's creation was stunning and absolutely breath-taking. It caused me to give praise to the God that is greater than even the towering mountain that displayed such power and might. We also had crazy awesome views of Denali riding in on the train. The mountain is only out thirty percent of the summer, and it just so happened that we caught it on a perfect day. It truly was a once in a lifetime experience. There are so many more things that we did that I want to share with you all, but if I talked about all of them my fingers would fall off. So, I'll leave you with this:
Trains, salads, puppy dogs
Alaskan huskies, that is.
ATVs and air-o-planes

all of this we did.
I gazed upon the mountainside,
I hiked upon the rocks.
I rafted on the swirling river,
this made me wet my socks.
I spotted rooting grizzly bears
I rangled caribou
The last line was a bold-face lie
I couldn't lie to you.
In all of this I learned a thing
Or four or two or three.
But the most important thing I learned
this trip is that God loves you and me.

P.S. Because he gave us this beautiful earth to live on and have wonderful experiences in and breathe the fresh air of his glorious nature. Amen.

As Cute as Can Be

Yesterday afternoon Aunt Lyn, Ben, Mk and I hiked next to the Turnagain arm. We hiked for probably about 5 miles and some of the views were absolutely incredible! Luckily we weren't attacked by any moose, bears or mountain goats, but the shifting gravel was another story. I regularly struggle keeping my balance on solid ground. When it comes to slippery rocks and/or ground that doesn't stay in one place I'm a goner. At some points during this hike, we were required to climb or descend steep slopes made of 100% gravel. "Oh dear," I thought to myself. This was bound to turn out badly. I didn't want to show any weakness to my fellow adventurers, though, because I'm in Alaska for goodness sakes. Question: Who comes to Alaska and doesn't know how to ascend steep hills of shifting gravel? Answer: No one. Yes, maybe I should have worn hiking boots instead of sneakers and yes I did acquire a bit of balancing skills from 14 years of dance. But, at the top of that sliding hill, all I could think was "Fall right, Katherine, fall right," seeing as how there was a sharp drop off to the left. I knew that there was no turning back now. You may or may not be surprised to find that gravel actually makes for a very soft landing. I would know since I fell on it twice and neither time did my bum cry out in pain. Rather it cried out in victory that it was not tumbling down the side of the mountain. Overall, I would say that the hike was a major victory.

As far as the job goes, today marks the beginning of our second week working for ARAMARK and I'm learning many new things working in an office. For example, I've learned how one entertains himself when his computer is frozen or is just working extremely slow (as our computers tend to do). One makes himself a paperclip family, of course. So what if they have to stand on their heads? They're still as cute as can be.

Just Livin the Local Life

Starting next week our office will switch to four 10 hour work days instead of five 8 hour work days. This will enable us to have more time to play. "Work hard, play hard," my boss Carol says. And oh does she mean it. The other day she came over to our set of cubicles and asked the two male manifest agents if they would like to go up to the Denali National Park the weekend of the 28th. Their answers consisted of sighs and checking of schedules. Meanwhile, Mk and I were near squealing with excitement just thinking about seeing the park. After too many sighs from the guys I said, "I'll go!" (just to throw it out there, you know). And Carol said,"Oh yeah! Why don't we let the girls go on this trip boys and you guys can go the next weekend." And Mk and I said, "WEEEEEHOHAHAOHMYGOODNESSREALLYHOHA!!!" Carol laughs at us and says that she's going to print our itinerary. The sheet she brings back looks something like the following:

Friday morning--Ride on the Alaska Railroad (First Class) up to the park

Friday evening--Extreme White Water Rafting

Stay at the McKinley Village Hotel

Saturday morning--Tundra Wilderness Tour

Saturday afternoon--Airplane Tour of the park

Saturday Evening--Cabin Night Theater

Stay at the McKinley Village again

Sunday--Come home.

All expenses paid for.

As I read this sheet of paper, my mouth gaped larger and larger until you could probably fit a small watermelon into it. I feel so blessed to have the opportunity and I can't wait to leave next Friday!

Mk and I have gotten really good at riding the PM by now. We have even picked a local coffee shop, the Midnight Moon, to stop at a couple times a week for coffee on our morning commute. Our goal is to become "regulars" at the Midnight Moon. We'll see how that goes. We hope to go on a hike and another bike ride or two this weekend. Between weekend getaways, morning commutes and local coffee, we're just livin the local life. 

And I Like That

Last night Aunt Lyn, Mk and I took a 10 mile bike ride on the trail that we could ride to work. It is a beautiful trail that goes by a winding creek and a calm lagoon. We saw birch trees and magpies and heard children laughing in the distance. Wonderful, right? But you must keep in mind that riding bikes for a while is not for the faint of...rump. So while all these beautiful things were around, the pain in the behind was a tad distracting. But never fear, I've invested in some bike shorts. So not only will I be more comfortable, I'll also look cool while getting exercise to and from work. Mk and I hope to ride to work a couple times a week when the weather gets a little warmer. For the rest of the month, though, it's the bus system also affectionately known as the People Mover for us. The good old PM will get us to and from work for the rest of the month. There are a myriad of people who ride the PM so it should be interesting to see what kind of experiences we have.

So, two days of work down. New friends made. Success. "What else do you need?" You may ask. I'll tell you: you may need special glasses that don't make you feel like your head is floating off your shoulders when you stare at a computer screen for too long (anyone with me on that phenomenon?) Mk and my job involves a lot of computer work. We each have our own cubical, and for 8 hours a day we've learned how to decipher a screen that looks kinda like the picture above. We've learned how to put reservations for hotels and tours into the system and how to bill, scan and file those reservations, to name a few new things. "How could you possibly find joy in a place like that?" You may ask. I'll tell you: the new friends referred to at the beginning of this paragraph make this job a success. All of the people who work in reservations with us are wonderful. They are nice, funny, and extremely patient, especially to us newcomers. When I start a new job I like to do everything perfectly right. This isn't really possible, I realize, so I usually end up just asking a million questions. So, I've been asking a million questions at my new job and never once have the more experienced heaved a sigh and given me the stink eye. Instead they give me nods and smiles. I look forward to spending time with them and working with them. And I like that.

Between the Turnagain and Knik Arms

We made it! I am finally in Anchorage after eleven hours of flights yesterday. My main goal at this point is to get used to the four hour time difference. So far, so good. The mountains are phenomenal! My poor Aunt and Uncle had to listen to me rant and rave for awhile: "But did you see the mountains, guys??" "Yes, Katherine, we live here." Right. But did you see the mountains?
Today Mk and I became educated in Anchorage geography. I was especially worried when we started this lesson because, as any of my family and close friends will readily tell you, my geography skills are...slim. So slim that getting anywhere new by myself quickly becomes what I like to call an "adventure" purely for the sake of keeping my self esteem fire burning. Nevertheless, my Aunt Lyn took us on a morning tour and I think that I followed most of the pointing and name calling well for the most part. We started with a tour around the city including the bus transit center (we most likely use the bus to get to work) and our summer office. We also got to see an eagle's eye view of the city from the Flattop Mountain overlook (where it was snowing, no big). We saw how Anchorage is wrapped in a big hug between the Turnagain and the Knik Arms coming off of Cook Inlet which branches from the Pacific Ocean. I thought that was cool. I also think that the mountains are cool.
We start work tomorrow and I am pumped. I can't wait to see exactly what I will be doing all summer long. Well, that's it for now. If anyone needs me, just tell them that they can find me between the Turnagain and the Knik arms.

Here We Go...Again?

Alright team, so it seems as if Blogger hates me and deleted my old blog all together so I'm going to do this first post thing again. Thanks to all of you who read my first one before it got tossed in the trash. Also sorry to all of you who are having to read some of the same stuff over again, but I want everyone to be on the same page here, including myself.
So, here I am in the Hampton Inn in Greenville, SC with Nan and Pop (my grandparents). Tomorrow at 10:16AM I take off from the Greenville airport for Atlanta which then chucks me straight on up to Anchorage. My roommate Mk and I are going up there to work for Aramark in their reservations office in Anchorage. We will be living with my Aunt Lyn and Uncle Stuart who live about 3 miles from the office. My older brother, Ben, will also be heading up to Alaska and working for Aramark, but he will be in Denali State Park which is about 5 hours north of Anchorage. Mk and I plan to work hard, but what we're really looking forward to is playing hard. Aramark owns a lot of the tourism in Alaska, so we'll see where the benefits of working for them lead!
For those of you who read the last (and now deceased) blog that I posted yesterday, I checked on Patrick (my beloved stuffed puppy) today, and he's still as squished as ever, but he said it was okay as long as I hurried up and got there. I told him I couldn't make any promises. I attached the picture again just so everyone could remember his discomfort and my forlorness due to his discomfort.
I can't believe that the big day is tomorrow! Let the Alaskan Adventures commence. Here we go...again?