Saying goodbye on a beautiful day!

The weather in Skagway could not possibly be better. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, we're running around in short sleeves finishing up the last few things. The season is over and it's time to close up the town. Dirty Girls Gardening was busy removing plants from business planters and storing the containers for the winter. Guys were up in cherry pickers taking down the flags from the street poles. The gas station/laundromat, grocery store, hardware store have gone to winter hours, restaurants are closed, most of the summer workers we know have left town. Maria and Lynn have been busy finishing up any inventory work at 7th Heaven, the off site storage as there is no heat and it gets quite cold in there.
We have cleaned the apartment and loaded the jeep. Okay, I cleaned; Bill loaded. The jeep is quite heavy in the rear; it must be getting older, eh? Actually, someone put a 200 pound geode in the back and stacked 100 pounds of fabric on top of it. We have our drift wood, our rust, our rocks, our rust, our core samples, our rust, our caribou antler, our rust, our wooden box, our rust and a few other odds and ends, some rusty, some not.

Now the hem is in - time to clean up the scraps!

In Bill's enthusiasm he didn't realize that the hem was just pinned but definitely not sewn! I had to work on Friday and some this morning. At about 10:30 the hem was finished and it was time to go get a cinnamon roll in celebration.

Bill spent lots of time problem solving and drawing pictures to see that everything will fit in/on the jeep. He just said to me, "Well, I don't think it's going to be a quiet ride but it will all fit." That's okay, we've got the iPod so we'll just turn the music up. We have beautiful rocks, the caribou antler, a wonderful assortment of rust, some new fabric (really?) and a few odds and ends we left up here last year.

We (mostly Bill) did some partying last night, tonight we have dinner with a group then we go play cards with another group. Tomorrow laundry and cleaning and partying with some others--I'm not sure if it's a group or not. Monday we'll wash sheets and towels, and hang out. Some friends left at 4:00 a.m. today; others are leaving tomorrow; others are staying here for the winter.

We'll start out with jackets, scarves, multiple shirts and hopefully be in t-shirts and cool pants in about 10 days. We're hoping to stay with a friend in the Seattle area and go to a few fiber art shows, check out Oregon some more and I don't know what else. I've been kind of busy.

Retirement--new adventures--retirement--new adventures...we'll see what happens next.

The hem is in!

Right now, Peggie is finishing up her last day. I have already finished mine.
It started out as a typical Skagway day. The wind sounded as if it would demolish the town at any moment. The hard little not-quite-ice raindrops pelted down. I had to drive a bus to Whitehorse for winter storage. I met my two fellow drivers at 7:30 ish. Our ride back wanted to depart Whitehorse at noon. That is eleven Skagway time. Allowing two and a half hours for the drive gave us an hour to spare. Except....Raymie needed to put gas in her bus. Except...the one and only gas station in town had decided not to open until 10:00am. We decided she might make it on half a tank, and we could re-evaluate in Carcross. Off we go. On the way up we saw a moose in the road, a bear crossing the road, and a bear eating beside the road. We decided a few gallons of Canadian gas wouldn't hurt our chances of arriving safely in Whitehorse on time. So a quick stop. Except....Raymie is female. So a restroom visit was also necessary. Meantime, Shawn, who is male, had stopped to "chat" with Deena. She is "the pretty one" at Canada Customs. We didn't know where he was by now.
Arriving at Whitehorse Motors was a joke. They are constructing some additions. The city is "improving" one of two access streets. Finding a parking spot was a challenge. Finding an entrance into the building was a challenge. Finding the service department meant running a maze of small back rooms. As our one hour cushion quickly deflated, I called our ride. All good. He picked us up at noon, and we took off. As in, he is a Yukoner. So we took off without regard to minor things like posted speed limits. We arrived in Skagway in under two hours. A record for me. I was happy at every curve not to see a moose in the road.
Speaking of records, here are my final talleys for wildlife sightings:
black bears 108 (60 in the month of June, alone)
brown bears 9
moose 15
caribou 17
lynx 2 (one cub)
wolf 2
When we leave we will have been here 148 days, so that is one sighting per day with five left over.
Animals I did not count, but are also fun to see: mountain goats, dall sheep, porcupines, harbor seals, and bald eagles. Oh, and coyotes.
Now we will hope to see some sea mammals on the ferry ride south. And we are leaving just in time and by the right form of transport. The snow level is now firmly established below 5000ft.

What is this?

We are not sure what we saw. I think it is a lynx kitten (cub), but the ear tufts seem to be missing. It was dark. (Yes, it gets dark here now.) We spotted it by the shine in its eyes from the headlights. It sat in the grass the whole time. It didn't seem alarmed by our presence and gave itself a bit of a bath, like a cat does. We are having a hard time matching the photo to photos of other likely animals. So everybody please have a go at it, and tell us what you think.




Aside from that, we were running quickly up to Montana Mountain after work to pick up the fabric that Lynn was rusting on the old equipment Peggie used earlier this summer. On the way up we saw three moose by the road. They went into the woods when we stopped, but they were back out by the road eating when we came back. According to Bill's Official Rules of Wildlife Sighting we saw six moose, because a) we were going in the opposite direction, and b)more than an hour had passed.



The day before, Sunday, we had gone to place the fabric, and took a side trip (gasp!) up Jubilee Mountain where we got the best view of a small porcupine and a good sighting of a bear eating roadkill.

Beyond the attic

I am no connoisseur of woods. But there is something attractive about some woods. Especially old wood. Friday night we got a tour through an old building in the midst of restoration/remodeling. The exterior is being restored using original 100+ year old planking. The available woods then were sitka spruce and lodgepole pine. Doors and windows are originals and/or replicas, including the hardware. The ground floor is being divided into three retail spaces that will feature the old woods in flooring, shelves and cabinets. The upstairs is being remodeled into apartments with many interesting angles and nooks and will also feature accents of old wood. Right now the back room and any open space is taken up with stacks, piles and boxes of old wood. The old wood has appealing smell, look and feel that is absent in the newer wood.
The tour included the attic, plus a bonus trip out onto the roof. Being on the roof, invisible behind false fronts and roof peaks to passersby three floors below, able to see and hear the goings on the streets, able to gaze at the sky illuminated by the soon-to-rise moon, clouds scudding swiftly inland, stars and airliners blinking in and out of view is magical.
We came back down, literally and metaphorically, and continued our journey to the Pizza Station (there is a story behind the Pizza Station that I can tell better in person). There was a concert (?) fund raiser to benefit the Skagway High School girls basketball team (who will attempt to three-peat as state champs this year). The coach is a man I speak with almost every day at work, so we had to go. The Rev. Neal Down was playing, so we had to go. Besides Rev.'s guitar there was a base and a saxaphone. Blues are even better with a base and sax than with just a guitar.
The place was crowded but we found a table with a man sitting alone who graciously agreed to share with us. During a break in the music we discovered he was living in Haines but was a transplant from Long Island. He grew up on the salt water there and works on the water here. He spoke about the water the way I was just talking about wood.
On the four block walk home we talked about the bears raiding trash cans in the alleys. It felt like whistling past the graveyard. But it is reassuring to be aware, since that is the first step to being safe. It is annoying that we have to worry about such things just because a number of idiots can't do a simple thing like secure their trash. Don't even get me started on that.

"Northern Exposure" got it right.

All teachers know who I mean. The rest of you do, too. Just from a different perspective. There is the child/student who is different. So different that they could be in that "Sesame Street" segment, "One of these things is not like the others" and the others could all be same age, same gender, same hair color, etc. But this one is different. The other kids are not nice to her/him. They tease, ridicule, humiliate. She/he says strange things, wears strange clothes, talks about strange ideas. Somehow you know you are supposed to be the one person who is kind, accepting, encouraging, but you, too, find it hard to like this person. You want to. You try to. You chastise the others for their behavior. Okay, you have someone (or several) in mind.
She was playing the accordian and singing at open mic night at The Bonanza Bar on Monday night. If you watch the "American Idol" auditions you suddenly understand how so many untalented people try out on that show. It was painful. It was humorous(in that mean kid way) but we all politely applauded each song. Each song full of lyrics telling of strange ideas. Each song full of mistakes and embarassed corrections on the keys.
Then a young man took the mic with his acoustic guitar. He sang some familiar folky type songs, then got into his "original" material. He was better than competent on the guitar, but he got all nasally with his voice. His girlfriend was in the audience singing along softly with every song, harmonizing beautifully in what she thought was a soft voice nobody could hear. I encouraged her to get on stage. So she did. She sang lead and he harmonized beautifully with her. Then him again. Then several of us ganged up on her and convinced her to sing again. So she did.
Then they relinquished the stage to a thirty-something guy who borrowed the kid's guitar and did some blues tunes. Then we discovered he was playing there the following night, alone. Okay, plans for tomorrow.
Then this guy, Jeff Caldwell, started jamming with Rev. Neal Down, the host for the evening, and the reason we were there. The Rev. can really play guitar. Really play.
At some point in the evening somebody came in and said the Northern Lights were on. So we went outside for awhile to see them. Then we went back in and listened to the music some more. At one point I looked around the bar. There was a bartender, two musicians and four of us in the audience. It was after midnight, everybody else had left. The folksy kid left his guitar for Jeff to play. We looked at each other. I said, "I can't believe we are sitting in a bar in Skagway, Alaska listening to two great musicians jamming" and the bar is almost empty. I mean, I know we have been coming up here for three years, but the reality of sitting in a bar in Skagway, Alaska was mindboggling. It is just one of those things we never actually thought we would ever be doing.
"Northern Exposure" got a lot of things right about Alaska and Alaskans. So did "Men in Trees." This place is something else.

broken record

Records are..records are..records are..records are..scree records are meant to be broken. So I broke mine. On our way back from Mineral Mountain we saw Torval, the Russian circus bear, then today, on tour, we saw another bear. So I am at 105 and still trying to count more.
What? Oh. Torval is short for Tormented Valley where this particular black bear has been seen. I have seen him no less than six times in the same general area. What? Oh. Torval sounds like a Russian name so I just think of him as the Russian circus bear. What's so strange about that? You know the whole reason we name rivers and mountains and so on is so we know which one we are talking about, right? So I name bears. And I make up past lives for them, but just as a mnemonic device. I am not weird. Ask Peggie why one of the bears is named Kobe. (Oh never mind. It's cause he lives at Black Lake...so he is a black Laker.
I don't know why I write to you people.