Sunday, August 8, 2010
Andrew Benjamin
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Can it be??
I got up this morning and guess what I saw?? It is a thing of myths here and I could hardly believe my eyes, but here is photographic proof:
Yup, that is sunshine! Sunshine and bluuuuuue skies! Isn't it beautiful? Doesn't it just make you want to do a little happy dance right on the lawn where all of your neighbors can see? Probably wouldn't be so embarrassing here because I'll bet a lot of people would be happy-dancing on their front lawns and we'd all make eye-contact and give each other that "yup, I get it" nod.
I stepped outside to let Jack "go" and my brain took less than 30 seconds to switch into "sunshine mode".
Me: I've got a lot of stuff to get done today...
My brain: I don't care - it's sunny!!
Me: My feet were sticking to the kitchen floor this morning...shouldn't I mop?
My brain: Heck no - it's sunny!!
Me: I smell funny...when did I shower last?
My brain: Does it matter? It's sunny!!
Me: Maybe....I'll.....pull out the hammock and read??
My brain: NOW you're getting it, dumb-dumb!!
Joe is heading out to go halibut fishing with our neighbor today so I'll basically have the whole day to myself. My brain is stirring with all of the potential things I can do, especially since I know this weather may potentially last only a few days, if not only a few hours. Sorry to be pessimistic like that, but it's been a dreary summer so far and I've been conditioned. :)
First things first: I'm heading out for a 3.1 mile run. I'm in a competition with my sister (in my brain, at least) to get better 5k times than her. She's getting good so I've got to practice.
It's going to be a good day. Hope you have a beautiful day yourself!
Yup, that is sunshine! Sunshine and bluuuuuue skies! Isn't it beautiful? Doesn't it just make you want to do a little happy dance right on the lawn where all of your neighbors can see? Probably wouldn't be so embarrassing here because I'll bet a lot of people would be happy-dancing on their front lawns and we'd all make eye-contact and give each other that "yup, I get it" nod.
I stepped outside to let Jack "go" and my brain took less than 30 seconds to switch into "sunshine mode".
Me: I've got a lot of stuff to get done today...
My brain: I don't care - it's sunny!!
Me: My feet were sticking to the kitchen floor this morning...shouldn't I mop?
My brain: Heck no - it's sunny!!
Me: I smell funny...when did I shower last?
My brain: Does it matter? It's sunny!!
Me: Maybe....I'll.....pull out the hammock and read??
My brain: NOW you're getting it, dumb-dumb!!
Joe is heading out to go halibut fishing with our neighbor today so I'll basically have the whole day to myself. My brain is stirring with all of the potential things I can do, especially since I know this weather may potentially last only a few days, if not only a few hours. Sorry to be pessimistic like that, but it's been a dreary summer so far and I've been conditioned. :)
First things first: I'm heading out for a 3.1 mile run. I'm in a competition with my sister (in my brain, at least) to get better 5k times than her. She's getting good so I've got to practice.
It's going to be a good day. Hope you have a beautiful day yourself!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
11 years and counting...
It's been a good 11 years of marriage for me and Joe. We actually still like each other, have built up some good memories, and really look forward to our future together.
I'm pretty lucky that Joe is such a good guy. He loves me without question, places God first in our relationship, knows how to say sorry, and even does the laundry sometimes. His priorities are just.....right. I love that. It makes me feel safe and confident.
When we woke up this morning, we rolled into our cuddling position and started chatting about the past 11 years.
"What are your favorite memories?," I asked.
"The times we spent up in the Northstar Lounge, having drinks and looking out over Lake Superior...the times we spent in our house in Marquette...and, of course, our great vacations," he said.
"I've really loved our car rides," I said, "because those are the times we've had our best conversations."
We decided to get Jack on a ride home from Christmas, Michigan. We made the decision for Joe to head to Iraq in the car. We've given all of our potential children their names while we were on one road trip or another. In the car, we dream together. Maybe that is why we drive any time we can.
Over the last 11 years we've learned how to be strong when we can't physically be together and how to pick right back up where we left off when Joe is actually home. The demanding Coast Guard life we've lived hasn't squelched our feelings for one another. Even better - every time he comes home from being away we go through a few magical weeks of "the honeymoon stage". I wish every couple could have that. It's the best fire kindle ever.
We've changed quite a lot over the years and so has our marriage. We've never changed our focus, though.....God and our faith as the center of our relationship. On the inside of our wedding bands, we had the words 1 Cor. 13:4-8 inscribed so we would always remember what the meaning of our love is.
I'm excited to see what the next year, the next five years, and the next thirty years will bring. I can't imagine being any closer to Joe, but I've said the same thing every year and somehow we still keep getting stronger. It's an amazing thing.
I love you, Joe. Thank you for your dedication to us.
I'm pretty lucky that Joe is such a good guy. He loves me without question, places God first in our relationship, knows how to say sorry, and even does the laundry sometimes. His priorities are just.....right. I love that. It makes me feel safe and confident.
When we woke up this morning, we rolled into our cuddling position and started chatting about the past 11 years.
"What are your favorite memories?," I asked.
"The times we spent up in the Northstar Lounge, having drinks and looking out over Lake Superior...the times we spent in our house in Marquette...and, of course, our great vacations," he said.
"I've really loved our car rides," I said, "because those are the times we've had our best conversations."
We decided to get Jack on a ride home from Christmas, Michigan. We made the decision for Joe to head to Iraq in the car. We've given all of our potential children their names while we were on one road trip or another. In the car, we dream together. Maybe that is why we drive any time we can.
Over the last 11 years we've learned how to be strong when we can't physically be together and how to pick right back up where we left off when Joe is actually home. The demanding Coast Guard life we've lived hasn't squelched our feelings for one another. Even better - every time he comes home from being away we go through a few magical weeks of "the honeymoon stage". I wish every couple could have that. It's the best fire kindle ever.
We've changed quite a lot over the years and so has our marriage. We've never changed our focus, though.....God and our faith as the center of our relationship. On the inside of our wedding bands, we had the words 1 Cor. 13:4-8 inscribed so we would always remember what the meaning of our love is.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."This is not an easy kind of love to have. It involves a lot of giving and a desire to put someone else's needs completely before your own. The situations this type of love produces are absolutely beautiful, though, and it is worth working at.
I'm excited to see what the next year, the next five years, and the next thirty years will bring. I can't imagine being any closer to Joe, but I've said the same thing every year and somehow we still keep getting stronger. It's an amazing thing.
I love you, Joe. Thank you for your dedication to us.
Find us on Barometer
Here is an add-on to my Barometer blog. My friend Amy, who lives down near the base of Barometer used binoculars to find us while we were hiking and then took our picture. Thank goodness I had white and red on! Joe seems to be completely camouflaged. Bet you can't even see us (click on the picture to see it a little bigger)!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Hiking Barometer
Joe came home last Wednesday with another one of his wild ideas.
"Wanna hike Barometer Mountain tomorrow morning? I took the day off work!", he asked.
"Let's do it!", I replied, and called my friend Joellen to reschedule our coffee date.
As I have previously mentioned, I try to never say no to an idea that Joe has, especially if it is one that requires us to spend lots of time together. I LOVE spending lots of time with Joe doing activities that are productive and/or challenging. Nothing brings us closer.
Now, if you've been following our adventures up here at all, then you've seen Barometer Mountain. It is the one you see from our living room and deck as well as the one in the background of our "playing with Jack" pictures from the winter.
It is a mountain that everyone hopes to climb at least once while they live here, though most won't, due to its perceived difficulty (which I now understand). It is not a good trail to take children on unless they are securely strapped to your back or have the sure-footing of a mountain goat, so many parents are simply unable to make the trek. For us, however, it is a perfect challenge.
Barometer Mountain has an elevation of 2500 feet. The trail runs up the ridge of it, completely exposed and visible from the road below (with binoculars). The 2400 feet climb from the base to the peak occurs in just about a mile and a half. Translation: this is a steep climb. There are no trees to grab onto to aid in the ascent (or descent, for that matter), so good balance is very helpful.
We started our journey at 9:30a.m. after a good breakfast of oatmeal and omelets. We had our camelbaks filled with water, snacks, a camera, emergency raincoats and a loaded "bear" gun (a 500 S&W) and were full of energy. Looking up from the road, we could see that we would be hiking up into the clouds, which was very exciting for me. I had visions of having cloudball fights with Joe (yes, I know this is impossible, but I can dream, right?) and couldn't wait to make lots of jokes about having my "head in the clouds".
The hike started through an area that has lots of tall vegetation and salmonberry bushes.
I worried a little bit about stumbling onto a bear (we were very much in "bear country"), but relaxed somewhat when I reasoned myself into thinking that a bear wouldn't be very good at hiding its huge, smelly body and I would probably notice it before it noticed me. Plus, I had Joe with me and a huge gun in my backpack and that made me feel safer. I'll admit though, every time Joe casually said something about the berry bushes, my brain would only hear "bear" and I would tense up for a second until my senses caught up with what he was actually saying. I was very on-guard, but still relaxed enough to enjoy everything around us.
About a third of a mile up, the terrain moved from taller vegetation and shrubbery to open fields of flowers, low bushes, grasses, mosses, and rocks.
The trail kept a steady incline and mainly consisted of loose rocks, packed dirt, and some thick clumps of grass.
Due to the lack of surrounding trees, the view was always huge and beautiful any time we turned around to look at it. We could easily see the airport and the Coast Guard housing areas, and in the distance we could spy the city of Kodiak jutting out into the huge expanse of Alaskan ocean.
The trail provided a series of deceptive points that confused us as to how close we were to reaching the summit of the mountain. When we looked up, we saw a ridge, but had no idea if it was the final summit or not because we couldn't see beyond it, especially once we were in the clouds.
The ridges forced steep climbing efforts that involved almost crawling up the mountain on our hands and feet.
I was glad that I had worked so hard on building up my hamstring muscles over the previous year because they proved very helpful. Getting to the top of the ridge and looking up to see another one was a little disheartening but at the same time it was motivating to see the next obstacle that needed overcoming. We still never knew if that next obstacle was the final one.
Once we entered the cloud layer, breathing became a tiny bit more difficult and there was an added chill to the air that was refreshing while we were moving but a bit cold while we were resting. We could no longer turn around to see an expansive view and our drive to get to the top increased.
I became quite a self-motivating-pep-talker during the difficult second half of the upward climb. Where Joe and I had enjoyed chatting with each other on the first part of the journey, we were both now turning inward and focusing our minds and muscles on the challenge ahead of us. I was huffing and puffing, pushing my muscles to their limits, and lecturing myself in my head about the virtues of never giving up. I reminded myself that just because I was mad that the peak was so high and seeming so far away, my anger wouldn't bring that peak any closer and I just needed to push through it. I knew I had the strength and the will to do it if I channeled my energies. I don't know exactly what Joe was telling himself in order to keep going but I know he mumbled something likened to "we'd better find the Ten Commandment Tablets at the top". I had to laugh and was sort of glad that he was finding the hike as much of a challenge as I was.
After five or six or the aforementioned "pseudo-summits", I looked up at one last summit and noticed that Joe, who had already reached the top of it, was smiling and walking at a more level elevation. He was at the top! I scrambled up to meet him.
The feeling of being at the top was wonderful. It had been a tough 2 1/2-hour climb and we had finished it! For the most part, the clouds obscured any views that we might have enjoyed as a reward, so I instead focused on how beautiful it was that Joe and I's bodies had allowed us to come this far. We were strong, healthy, and determined and we enjoyed being together. The journey up had reminded me of that.
During a small break in the clouds, we were able to see part of Bell's Flats and the road that works its way out to Fossil Beach. We could see eagles and a small layer of clouds floating below us. We felt so high up and our energy was quickly restored.
After a short rest, lots of pictures, some snacks, and good rehydration, we started our trip down the mountain. The same trail is used and I was worried about getting down the parts where we had needed to crawl up. There were lots of loose rocks and some muddy spots that were perfect for slipping down.
We took it slow and sidetracked through the grass whenever possible. There were times that I was crab-crawling down in an effort to not lose my balance and go tumbling down part of the mountain.
We broke through the clouds and enjoyed a beautiful panoramic view. Joe took pictures that I later stitched together for a 180 degree view (see here). A Coast Guard helicopter flew right in front of us and we scrambled to get the camera out to photograph it, but missed our chance by a few seconds. We caught it on its next fly-by when it was a little bit above our heads.
We enjoyed seeing our house from the mountain instead of our usual view of seeing the mountain from our house. We were sure we would look at Barometer differently every time we looked at it from the living room window now.
We focused on noticing and taking pictures of the beautiful little flowers and plants that we saw on the side of the trail. I loved what I called the "diamond" plants which were little leaves that cradled shimmering balls of water that sparkled in the light. Joe perused options for flora to plant in our gardens next year (things that obviously are accustomed to Kodiak lighting conditions).
The trip down took just under two hours and in total, we had spent five hours on the mountain. We unloaded the gun and drove into town to get halibut fish and chips from The Chowderhouse.
The food was delicious and comforting to our tired bodies. We looked through our pictures, chatted about our adventure, came up with ideas for what our next hike should be, and agreed on our need for a nice long nap (which we took, right when we got home!)
The soreness I felt for the next few days was a pleasant reminder of our fun "date". I'm almost looking forward to hiking Barometer again. Almost.
"Wanna hike Barometer Mountain tomorrow morning? I took the day off work!", he asked.
"Let's do it!", I replied, and called my friend Joellen to reschedule our coffee date.
As I have previously mentioned, I try to never say no to an idea that Joe has, especially if it is one that requires us to spend lots of time together. I LOVE spending lots of time with Joe doing activities that are productive and/or challenging. Nothing brings us closer.
Now, if you've been following our adventures up here at all, then you've seen Barometer Mountain. It is the one you see from our living room and deck as well as the one in the background of our "playing with Jack" pictures from the winter.
It is a mountain that everyone hopes to climb at least once while they live here, though most won't, due to its perceived difficulty (which I now understand). It is not a good trail to take children on unless they are securely strapped to your back or have the sure-footing of a mountain goat, so many parents are simply unable to make the trek. For us, however, it is a perfect challenge.
Barometer Mountain has an elevation of 2500 feet. The trail runs up the ridge of it, completely exposed and visible from the road below (with binoculars). The 2400 feet climb from the base to the peak occurs in just about a mile and a half. Translation: this is a steep climb. There are no trees to grab onto to aid in the ascent (or descent, for that matter), so good balance is very helpful.
We started our journey at 9:30a.m. after a good breakfast of oatmeal and omelets. We had our camelbaks filled with water, snacks, a camera, emergency raincoats and a loaded "bear" gun (a 500 S&W) and were full of energy. Looking up from the road, we could see that we would be hiking up into the clouds, which was very exciting for me. I had visions of having cloudball fights with Joe (yes, I know this is impossible, but I can dream, right?) and couldn't wait to make lots of jokes about having my "head in the clouds".
The hike started through an area that has lots of tall vegetation and salmonberry bushes.
I worried a little bit about stumbling onto a bear (we were very much in "bear country"), but relaxed somewhat when I reasoned myself into thinking that a bear wouldn't be very good at hiding its huge, smelly body and I would probably notice it before it noticed me. Plus, I had Joe with me and a huge gun in my backpack and that made me feel safer. I'll admit though, every time Joe casually said something about the berry bushes, my brain would only hear "bear" and I would tense up for a second until my senses caught up with what he was actually saying. I was very on-guard, but still relaxed enough to enjoy everything around us.
About a third of a mile up, the terrain moved from taller vegetation and shrubbery to open fields of flowers, low bushes, grasses, mosses, and rocks.
The trail kept a steady incline and mainly consisted of loose rocks, packed dirt, and some thick clumps of grass.
Due to the lack of surrounding trees, the view was always huge and beautiful any time we turned around to look at it. We could easily see the airport and the Coast Guard housing areas, and in the distance we could spy the city of Kodiak jutting out into the huge expanse of Alaskan ocean.
The trail provided a series of deceptive points that confused us as to how close we were to reaching the summit of the mountain. When we looked up, we saw a ridge, but had no idea if it was the final summit or not because we couldn't see beyond it, especially once we were in the clouds.
The ridges forced steep climbing efforts that involved almost crawling up the mountain on our hands and feet.
I was glad that I had worked so hard on building up my hamstring muscles over the previous year because they proved very helpful. Getting to the top of the ridge and looking up to see another one was a little disheartening but at the same time it was motivating to see the next obstacle that needed overcoming. We still never knew if that next obstacle was the final one.
Once we entered the cloud layer, breathing became a tiny bit more difficult and there was an added chill to the air that was refreshing while we were moving but a bit cold while we were resting. We could no longer turn around to see an expansive view and our drive to get to the top increased.
I became quite a self-motivating-pep-talker during the difficult second half of the upward climb. Where Joe and I had enjoyed chatting with each other on the first part of the journey, we were both now turning inward and focusing our minds and muscles on the challenge ahead of us. I was huffing and puffing, pushing my muscles to their limits, and lecturing myself in my head about the virtues of never giving up. I reminded myself that just because I was mad that the peak was so high and seeming so far away, my anger wouldn't bring that peak any closer and I just needed to push through it. I knew I had the strength and the will to do it if I channeled my energies. I don't know exactly what Joe was telling himself in order to keep going but I know he mumbled something likened to "we'd better find the Ten Commandment Tablets at the top". I had to laugh and was sort of glad that he was finding the hike as much of a challenge as I was.
After five or six or the aforementioned "pseudo-summits", I looked up at one last summit and noticed that Joe, who had already reached the top of it, was smiling and walking at a more level elevation. He was at the top! I scrambled up to meet him.
The feeling of being at the top was wonderful. It had been a tough 2 1/2-hour climb and we had finished it! For the most part, the clouds obscured any views that we might have enjoyed as a reward, so I instead focused on how beautiful it was that Joe and I's bodies had allowed us to come this far. We were strong, healthy, and determined and we enjoyed being together. The journey up had reminded me of that.
During a small break in the clouds, we were able to see part of Bell's Flats and the road that works its way out to Fossil Beach. We could see eagles and a small layer of clouds floating below us. We felt so high up and our energy was quickly restored.
After a short rest, lots of pictures, some snacks, and good rehydration, we started our trip down the mountain. The same trail is used and I was worried about getting down the parts where we had needed to crawl up. There were lots of loose rocks and some muddy spots that were perfect for slipping down.
We took it slow and sidetracked through the grass whenever possible. There were times that I was crab-crawling down in an effort to not lose my balance and go tumbling down part of the mountain.
We broke through the clouds and enjoyed a beautiful panoramic view. Joe took pictures that I later stitched together for a 180 degree view (see here). A Coast Guard helicopter flew right in front of us and we scrambled to get the camera out to photograph it, but missed our chance by a few seconds. We caught it on its next fly-by when it was a little bit above our heads.
We enjoyed seeing our house from the mountain instead of our usual view of seeing the mountain from our house. We were sure we would look at Barometer differently every time we looked at it from the living room window now.
We focused on noticing and taking pictures of the beautiful little flowers and plants that we saw on the side of the trail. I loved what I called the "diamond" plants which were little leaves that cradled shimmering balls of water that sparkled in the light. Joe perused options for flora to plant in our gardens next year (things that obviously are accustomed to Kodiak lighting conditions).
The trip down took just under two hours and in total, we had spent five hours on the mountain. We unloaded the gun and drove into town to get halibut fish and chips from The Chowderhouse.
The food was delicious and comforting to our tired bodies. We looked through our pictures, chatted about our adventure, came up with ideas for what our next hike should be, and agreed on our need for a nice long nap (which we took, right when we got home!)
The soreness I felt for the next few days was a pleasant reminder of our fun "date". I'm almost looking forward to hiking Barometer again. Almost.
Feeling better
I'm glad I wrote that post on the 17th about the "reality of my days". I had a little bit of worry that I would concern family and friends with how I was feeling, but I wanted to be honest. I knew writing it down would help jar me into proactivity. Yes, I am fighting seasonal depression here....I guess that's pretty obvious. But I realize it and therefore can work at options to help ease the feelings I have. I had the same issues when we lived in Homer but because I didn't understand what I was feeling back then, it consumed me to even deeper levels. I didn't even want to leave the house.
We haven't had any sunshine since I wrote that post and I'm doing just fine. The embarrassment of admittance forced me into action that day and being in action is what helps ease my heavy feelings. I have stayed quite busy and happy for the past 12 days. My house is clean, and has stayed that way. We've had some awesome dinners, including fire-grilled pesto chicken pizza on homemade wheat crust. I've been working out like a crazy person. And where I know that logically these things do not equate with happiness, they are a for-sure sign that I'm my normal "me" again, which is a person I really like being. :)
Thank you all for your prayers and concern. God, family, and good friends are the greatest healers. I love you all!
We haven't had any sunshine since I wrote that post and I'm doing just fine. The embarrassment of admittance forced me into action that day and being in action is what helps ease my heavy feelings. I have stayed quite busy and happy for the past 12 days. My house is clean, and has stayed that way. We've had some awesome dinners, including fire-grilled pesto chicken pizza on homemade wheat crust. I've been working out like a crazy person. And where I know that logically these things do not equate with happiness, they are a for-sure sign that I'm my normal "me" again, which is a person I really like being. :)
Thank you all for your prayers and concern. God, family, and good friends are the greatest healers. I love you all!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Hiking Kashevaroff
We had an unforgettable journey last weekend that led to me standing on the very tip-top of a mountain here in Kodiak, feeling amazingly accomplished and soaking in the wonderous heights and depths of God's creation. Our adventure was a 6-mile-round-trip hike to the top of Kashevaroff Mountain, which stands 2005 feet above sea level. Yeah, I know this isn't supremely tall but when you are standing on the road looking up at the top it seems to extend up into the clouds. I honestly never thought we would actually stand on the peak of it.
We had planned to take a hike that day with our friends, Ryan and Lindsay, but had assumed it would be up Barometer Mountain (the one that we can see from our living room view) since Barometer is a very common hike that we hadn't embarked on yet. Over lunch with our friends, we decided that Barometer might be a little tough (it goes straight up and there are spots where you literally have to crawl) and that Kashevaroff might be a little more up our alley. Well, I should say might be a little bit more up the girls' alley: Ryan and Joe are in excellent shape but Lindsay and I needed some more practice.
The trail starts off as a 4-wheeler track so it is easy to navigate, but it stays at a relatively steep incline and does not have switchbacks.
It was discovered early on that Lindsay and I were not going to be able to keep up with the super-speedy guys so we hiked at our own pace while the guys hiked a bit ahead of us. They never let us out of their sight, however, being the loving and protective guys that they are, and we enjoyed being able to stop when needed to catch our breath or enjoy viewing a winding river or interesting plant.
The guys chatted nonstop in an attempt to get to know one another (they had just met that morning) and Lindsay and I chatted nonstop about anything and everything we could think of simply because that is what girls do. The air temperature was absolutely perfect and the sunshine was gently warm on our skin. The pleasantness of the whole situation helped shroud the burn we felt in our hamstrings and lungs as we ascended the trail.
About two-thirds of the way up the trail the landscape took on a more tundra-ish feel, with low-lying plants and an absence of trees, and the trail we were following became covered in snow. Overall the area wasn't snowy, but the particular area where the path meandered was, so we began blazing our own trail over the rock covered terrain.
The ground was squishy with lichen and moss and it seemed to glow with beautiful greens, yellows, browns, and pinks.
The rocks were craggy, yet easy to navigate. Lindsay and I kept looking up at the seemingly far away peak, thinking we would be turning around at any point to head back down the mountain but he guys plodded on, and we followed.
We were tired but our energy seemed to magically increase as we got closer and closer to the top of the mountain. Lindsay and I reached a point where we knew we weren't stopping until that goal was reached and it fueled our excitement to know that we would soon be able to feel the sense of accomplishment that would come with having no further to go. Through groaning breaths, we kept reminding each other about how wonderful it would be to stand at the top - something neither of us had done before or had really expected to do that day.
And a wonderful feeling it was. The world stretched out in beautiful blues, greens, whites, and browns for what seemed like forever. To one side was the city of Kodiak, to another was an endless landscape of snow-covered mountains. The trek to the top had taken us just over 3 1/2 hours.
We were joyfully standing at the top of it all.
And then we were silly standing at the top of it all.
The guys went off to search for signs of Mountain Goats (that they hopefully intend to hunt at a later date) and Lindsay and I just soaked up the views from the top. It was a moment of forced appreciation for Kodiak and what it has to offer. There were no thoughts of rain, jobs, or messy houses - the bigness of what we were seeing crowded everything else out.
The boys barely made it back from their precarious ridge-trekking adventure with a small tuft of what we presumed to be mountain goat hair. There was hope that this might be a good place to return to for hunting later on in the season.
We started back down the mountain on an emotional high, with the powerful drive of grumbling tummies longing to be satiated with sushi motivating us to keep a steady pace.
The trek down was relatively easy, albeit quite hard on my knees with the steep angle of the path. Halfway down we were entertained by some Ptarmigan that allowed us to watch from a very close distance as they cooed and chased and flirted. I felt like were were watching a National Geographic special. The guys wished they had their guns. Ptarmigan are good eating.
We made it to the bottom in just under 2 hours. They sky had clouded over a little bit and and when we turned to look back up the mountain it seemed so distant. It was hard to believe we had just conquered it. Kashevaroff had taught me a lot about what I was capable of that day and had given the four of us a wonderful platform for strengthening what I hope to be long-lasting friendships.
Oh, and we made it back to town just in time for sushi before the restaurant closed. Tummies satiated!
We had planned to take a hike that day with our friends, Ryan and Lindsay, but had assumed it would be up Barometer Mountain (the one that we can see from our living room view) since Barometer is a very common hike that we hadn't embarked on yet. Over lunch with our friends, we decided that Barometer might be a little tough (it goes straight up and there are spots where you literally have to crawl) and that Kashevaroff might be a little more up our alley. Well, I should say might be a little bit more up the girls' alley: Ryan and Joe are in excellent shape but Lindsay and I needed some more practice.
The trail starts off as a 4-wheeler track so it is easy to navigate, but it stays at a relatively steep incline and does not have switchbacks.
It was discovered early on that Lindsay and I were not going to be able to keep up with the super-speedy guys so we hiked at our own pace while the guys hiked a bit ahead of us. They never let us out of their sight, however, being the loving and protective guys that they are, and we enjoyed being able to stop when needed to catch our breath or enjoy viewing a winding river or interesting plant.
The guys chatted nonstop in an attempt to get to know one another (they had just met that morning) and Lindsay and I chatted nonstop about anything and everything we could think of simply because that is what girls do. The air temperature was absolutely perfect and the sunshine was gently warm on our skin. The pleasantness of the whole situation helped shroud the burn we felt in our hamstrings and lungs as we ascended the trail.
About two-thirds of the way up the trail the landscape took on a more tundra-ish feel, with low-lying plants and an absence of trees, and the trail we were following became covered in snow. Overall the area wasn't snowy, but the particular area where the path meandered was, so we began blazing our own trail over the rock covered terrain.
The ground was squishy with lichen and moss and it seemed to glow with beautiful greens, yellows, browns, and pinks.
The rocks were craggy, yet easy to navigate. Lindsay and I kept looking up at the seemingly far away peak, thinking we would be turning around at any point to head back down the mountain but he guys plodded on, and we followed.
We were tired but our energy seemed to magically increase as we got closer and closer to the top of the mountain. Lindsay and I reached a point where we knew we weren't stopping until that goal was reached and it fueled our excitement to know that we would soon be able to feel the sense of accomplishment that would come with having no further to go. Through groaning breaths, we kept reminding each other about how wonderful it would be to stand at the top - something neither of us had done before or had really expected to do that day.
And a wonderful feeling it was. The world stretched out in beautiful blues, greens, whites, and browns for what seemed like forever. To one side was the city of Kodiak, to another was an endless landscape of snow-covered mountains. The trek to the top had taken us just over 3 1/2 hours.
We were joyfully standing at the top of it all.
And then we were silly standing at the top of it all.
The guys went off to search for signs of Mountain Goats (that they hopefully intend to hunt at a later date) and Lindsay and I just soaked up the views from the top. It was a moment of forced appreciation for Kodiak and what it has to offer. There were no thoughts of rain, jobs, or messy houses - the bigness of what we were seeing crowded everything else out.
The boys barely made it back from their precarious ridge-trekking adventure with a small tuft of what we presumed to be mountain goat hair. There was hope that this might be a good place to return to for hunting later on in the season.
We started back down the mountain on an emotional high, with the powerful drive of grumbling tummies longing to be satiated with sushi motivating us to keep a steady pace.
The trek down was relatively easy, albeit quite hard on my knees with the steep angle of the path. Halfway down we were entertained by some Ptarmigan that allowed us to watch from a very close distance as they cooed and chased and flirted. I felt like were were watching a National Geographic special. The guys wished they had their guns. Ptarmigan are good eating.
We made it to the bottom in just under 2 hours. They sky had clouded over a little bit and and when we turned to look back up the mountain it seemed so distant. It was hard to believe we had just conquered it. Kashevaroff had taught me a lot about what I was capable of that day and had given the four of us a wonderful platform for strengthening what I hope to be long-lasting friendships.
Oh, and we made it back to town just in time for sushi before the restaurant closed. Tummies satiated!
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