Winter Falls

    The simple act of learning is all about exposure.  Exposure to music, to books - to life.  As a parent I feel my primary obligation is to give my children a taste for all that is good in life.  To show them the rewards that life has to offer those who seek its mysteries and treasures, and get outside their comfort zones to explore undiscovered parts of themselves that are locked away, knocking, waiting to get out and play. 

Today I went skiing for the fourth time this week.  I can take two steps out the front door and snap on my skis and ski for miles.    I am learning how to ski, after years of limping along “sort of” skiing, falling and cursing gravity.  Yesterday when I finished my sunset ski, I came in the house exhilarated and declared that I enjoyed my ski almost as much as I enjoy a good run.  Then I proceeded to look up every decent beginners “how to nordic ski” video I could find and take copious notes.

     Today I declared that I love skiing as much as I love running, and trust me, I am more surprised than you can imagine.  I am generally speed averse and overly cautious.  This spring I bought my first road bike and every time I get on it, I still feel kind of nervous, because on that bike I can fly.  Up until this year I wasn’t sure I was ready to fly.  Now here it is November and I’m flying.

I headed out into the windy afternoon, clear skies, 0 F and prepared to be cold, windblown, and feel slightly in over my head.  

     Within 5 minutes I realized: 

1. I over dressed 
2. I hardly noticed the cold 
3. Everything about the wild out our back door is AMAZING.  

     After an hour and fifteen minutes of practicing “running” up hills on skis, herringboning my way to the top of the steeper climbs, and tucking nose over toes and using my weight to properly steer I started to feel like I had just found a new sport to love.  By the time I came  back into the warm, cozy little log cabin we have out here in the big woods of Wrangell-St. Elias, I was in the best possible mood and in love with everything about life.  I relayed my adventure excitedly to Parke and told him of the caribou, moose, coyote, rabbit, squirrel, and bird tracks I came across on the short half mile section of trail I warmed up on, before I took on the hills.  Then I sat down and savored every sip of hot chocolate that passed through my lips.  Exploring the marriage of chocolaty richness and cream.  Perfect harmony.  

     A short time later we watched the sunset against a clear blue backdrop with the profile of the mountains standing tall before the sky.   A perfect outline of Mt. Sanford, Mt. Drum, Tanada Peak, and all the other mountains that sit out our back door, that I do not yet know the names to, stood strong up against the vast wild landscape.  

    The sun fell quickly along the horizon skirting the edge of the mountains in a smooth, swift side step until it sunk behind the mountains, touching down at 3:43 pm.  We had a family tea party and sipped away at a pot of rooibos tea, red and glowing in the deep golden rays rays of sunlight, falling across the landscape before disappearing into the night.

Living here makes you realize how vulnerable you are.  At the mercy of the elements.  Having to prepare for the unexpected before you set foot out the door. This whole experience has reaffirmed all of the childhood teachings my parents provided by taking me out into the woods as a young child.  It is a delicate balance of being adventurous and prepared, exploring and getting lost.  

      Every day I have an opportunity to step out my front door and try something different, something new, and it often means trying something that scares me a little.  Having kids has made all the difference.  Before children (B.C.) I saw no reason to step out of my comfort zone and do something I had always wanted to do deep down, but never made the time to do, was too afraid to try, or simply too lazy to make it happen.  Moving somewhere surrounded in so much wilderness, without the distraction of stores, hoards of people, and noise make it easy to slip into adventures and find the time to do the things that are begging to be done.  Every day I get to quench my growing thirst for adventure and I am able to satisfy the need to explore the undiscovered parts of myself that have been waiting to be let loose in the wild.   

The Forecast:  

B-52s: Roam

I hear a wind
Whistling air
Whispering in my ear

Boy Mercury shooting through every degree
Oh girl dancing down those dirty and dusty trails
Take it hip to hip rocket through the wilderness
Around the world the trip begins with a kiss

Roam if you want to
Roam around the world
Roam if you want to
Without wings, without wheels
Roam if you want to
Without anything but the love we feel

Skip the air-strip for the sunset
Ride the arrow for the target---One
Take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
Around the world the trip begins with a kiss
Fly the great big sky
See the great big sea
Kick through continents
Busting boundaries
Take it hip to hip rocket through the wilderness
Around the world the trip begins with a kiss
Take it hip to hip
Rocket through the wilderness

"How wonderful it would be if we could help our children and grandchildren to learn thanksgiving at an early age.  Thanksgiving opens the doors. It changes a child's personality. A child is resentful, negative -- or thankful. Thankful children want to give, they radiate happiness, they draw people." - Sir John Templeteon

Snow Drifts

     Snowflakes began to fall over the weekend and by Sunday night icy winds were howling through the moonless night.  Snowflakes were sent back up into the atmosphere, where they danced around and drifted back to earth and formed dunes across the landscape and exposed frozen bits of earth.  On Monday morning the roads were glazed with ice and snow, and the wind continued to blow.  School was canceled.  Maya cried.  She is without a doubt the only kid who would be reduced to tears upon being notified that school is canceled due to a snow day.  I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky.

Driveway Snowdrifts 

    One step and you might slip on icy earth, the next step could bring thigh deep snow.  The uneven landscape with rolling hills and tundra pillows can make travel difficult during the the spring, summer and fall; but in winter you are granted a full-access pass to parts unknown.  The swampy marsh at the rivers edge is now a frozen, snow covered trail system that allows for exploration into new parts of the woods.  I find I am absolutely transfixed by the landscape to the point where it is distracting.  The upside to the distraction is the ideas and thoughts that come from meditating on the landscape.  

Mt. Sanford at Mid-Day

      Being in this place has given me new eyes to explore the world.  I have an Aunt who loves the expression “I feel like I was just born!”, and that is in part how I feel roaming around this wild place -- as thought I have just been reborn.  Now that the season has shifted from late fall to early winter the landscape has been reborn too. 

     The blanket of snow, boarder ice along the river, and the thin dark stream of winding water creates a whole new experience for the eyes.  Mt. Sanford and Mt. Drum have begun to reveal new secrets as the days grow shorter and the sun hangs lower.  The Moose Lodge looks directly at the North face of Mt. Sanford, which on a clear day is stunningly visible cloaked in greyscale darkness, magically illuminated, casting a shadowy light along the profile of Sanford, even at midday.  

Spectacular Sunset Smoke Photo By Parke 

     The howling winds sail right through the gap in our third floor door, creating a whistling sound.  That howling, whistling wind is the one element that makes me feel very far away.  Isolated.  When darkness falls and the winds howl, I start to realize we are on our own out here.  It is a hard feeling to describe and we find we are still adjusting to the idea that we actually did “this”.  Experiencing it first hand lends itself to magical thinking.  Our journey here feels destined and magical occurrences greet us at every twist and turn of the road.  The reality that we are actually here feels obscure and impossible, and the nature of the situation sinks in, as it can, in tiny bits and pieces as we construct a life for our family here in this place of unfinished business that is The Moose Lodge.  

View from the river, looking up at The Moose Lodge

   
      On Tuesday morning we awoke to a chilly (third floor) bedroom (44 F) filled with fresh mountain air and the crispness of early winter.  I hurried out of bed and quickly piled on the best of the best layers I have, one layer after the next.  Merino wool long johns, brushed fleece long johns, and fleece pants; wicking tank, merino wool pullover, sweater, fleece vest; lightweight knee high wool socks, heavy duty wool socks, fuzzy furry boots; hat, scarf, thin gloves, felted wool fingerless mittens/arm warmers.  Then came the coffee.  By the time I finished my first cup and returned from taking Maya out to the end of the driveway for the school bus, I was toasty warm.  

The main floor of our house is where our kitchen wood stove is located.  At the present moment it is the ONLY heat source we are using to heat all three floors (2300 square feet in all).  My husband is currently working on refurbishing a wood fired combination furnace we picked up on the cheap off Craigslist.  It is a 600 pound beast of a unit that he managed to hustle into the house. My tasks for this project have included: cheerleading, moral support and hot cocoa refills, as it is just over 40 F in our basement.  Once operational, the wood furnace is a combination furnace that allows for wood burning and either propane or fuel oil as a back-up heat source, if and when the wood fired heat dwindles.  The heat is controlled by a thermostat -- which now, seems positively revolutionary.  Better than sliced bread, who cares about sliced bread? Thermostatically controlled heat is where it is at, no lie.  Once up and running it should keep our household heat regulated and ideally will result in needing to wear multiple layers outside the house, only. The next task will be sealing up the remaining air gaps and increasing the insulation and general energy efficiency of the third floor.

Snow Drifts and the Snow Blower 

     My husband’s birthday was on Tuesday.  When Maya returned from school we took the kids and dogs for a sunset snowshoe hike and returned to a very dark house, the result of another power outage.  We are still dealing with the fallout of the community generator fire back in early October and have had several planned and unplanned outages.  The most recent outage lasted into the early morning hours the following day.  I wasn’t able to attend class (via Blackboard) because of the outage, and instead was able to have a candlelit Birthday dinner with my husband and kids.  Every year, for all of our birthdays, we record the singing of Happy Birthday, and wish making, and blowing out of candles.  As I was carrying the cake across the kitchen to the dining room the power came back on, briefly, I picked up the camera, began to record, we sang, 
the lighting was perfect, Parke blew out
 the candles and then the lights went out again. 

Another Spectacular Sanford Sunset 

     Yesterday I took one of the most exhilarating showers of my life. The simple things out here can create a blissful experience simply because it feels as though we shouldn’t have indoor plumbing, hot water, and electricity.  After a riverside trail ski with the dogs I was determined to shower despite the chilly temperatures.  The basement is where our shower is located and is the coldest floor in the house.  The stone walls are roughly 18 inches thick and the cool grey stone walls make it seem even colder.  In the shower the water was blazing hot and the air temperature was icy cold.  Any area that wasn’t being showered in hot water was covered in goose bumps, a strange juxtaposition of hot and cold.  An experience.  Every day events qualify as “experiences” at The Moose Lodge. Before we moved here I would have likely pitched a fit if it were 60-62 F inside the house and if the power was out on a semi-regular basis I would have likely thrown a major temper tantrum, “Oh the inconvenience!”. Living here lends itself to continual Thanksgiving for what we do have.  The heat we have is keeping the pipes from freezing up, and is keeping us warm enough for now.  When the power does go out, we roll with it.  

Unintentional Shadow Play with Honey Bearskins and Honey Mama

   Today, I am thankful for being thankful.  Living here is a gift, a blessing.  If the price of living here is being slightly chilled and having spotty power, then I’m all in, because if anything it enhances the experience and makes us feel like we are living a little wilder than we’d imagined.

River Ice Beginning to Form

“I do an awful lot of thinking and dreaming about things in the past and the future - the timelessness of the rocks and the hills - all the people who have existed there. I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.” 

― Andrew Wyeth

Freeze-Up - Part 1

We woke up this morning to a landscape cloaked in dense fog. I'm writing upstairs in my office this morning, the temperature (inside) is 55 F and I am nestled under a warm blanket, dressed in a down jacket and lightweight hat, and fingerless gloves.  The state snow plow truck has been by already this morning.  It moved through slowly with great noise, scraping sounds across the highway could be heard quite a while before the truck passed our house.   I went in to "town" this week for a few days and while I was gone the temperature dropped significantly.When I left on Tuesday morning it was 23 F, by early Friday morning it was -15 F.  A thin layer of snow has fallen and leaves, grass, and twigs stick out across the ground.  Fall still feels so close, and yet so far away.  Freeze-Up has begun.

FREEZE-UP:

1: a freezing over of a body of water esp. when marking the onset of winter 
2: a period during which the bodies of water in an area are frozen over

The Steps to Freeze-Up

1. Frazil Ice: Ice crystals form and mix with river water forming a slush.

2. Pancake Ice: Sheets of frazil ice cluster together and form "pancakes" of ice that float like rafts down the river, bumping into other pancake rafts, creating rough edges along the pancakes boarders.

3. Boarder Ice: Solid ice that forms as the temperature drops, the water at the rivers edge freezes first creating a frozen boarder framing in the river.  
This is as far as we have made it in the "freeze-up" process, but the next two phases: freeze-up ice and sheet ice, should be here any day now.

4. Freeze-Up Ice
 5. Sheet Ice
 6. Candle Ice
 7. Break-Up Ice

Ice forming in sections of the river has changed the river and we now have 

rushing rapids where previously calm waters meandered down the river.  

The dip in the temperatures has put a little fire under our behinds, in terms of getting our furnace up and running.  Currently we are heating the house with the main floor kitchen wood cook stove (8 burner, with an oven), a U.S. Army model from 1950, made in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. 

Hot cocoa parties follow any outdoor activity and we have finally managed to get around to watching DVD's we'd never even opened before we moved here. We opted not to have cable for a number of reasons when we moved out here, thus far I am not regretting that decision one bit, but it's not February either.

The forecast for the week suggests reasons to be hopeful: let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!  I bruised my tail bone being a bad dumb ass, a few weeks ago when we had a thin covering of snow and an ample amount of rocks were not covered, thus obstructing the sledding path.  As a result I have been a little more cautious and am considering strapping a pillow to my behind next time I feel the urge to do something fun stupid.  A subtle reminder that I am not in my twenties anymore.  

"The snow doesn't give a soft white damn 

who it touches." - E.E. Cummings 

What are you favorite wintertime traditions? 

Share it with me at:  

Honey Mama Runs Wild 

on Facebook!  

Here is one of my favorite retro, classic, and entertaining (video): 

The First Snowfall by The Carpenters, 1978 -A classic! 

Mt. Sanford at the Chistochina River, 16,237 ele. 

Mt. Drum at the Chistochina River - 12,011 ele.

Mt. Sanford sunset taken from the deck off the third floor, 

looking out across the icicles dangling on the roof.

A quick pit stop on the drive to town.

Taken at the rivers edge, 11/09/13 

For the Love of Pumpkin and All things Fall

I was browsing McSweeney's this morning over my rocket fuel grade coffee with exactly 15 mini-moo creamers, because we're out of the fresh stuff, waiting for the caffeine to hit my bloodstream and magically wake my tired, case-of-the-Monday's self up so that I may tackle my Senior Project with force and grace as I run it down the home stretch to Graduation, at last. Graduation. How many days until that again? Oh right, 40 days....4-0 days. I can do this....have Pumpkin flavored treats, will graduate. Here it is: "An Open Letter to Pumpkin Flavored Seasonal Treats" by Ilana Plen which made me smile, laugh and crave a pumpkin loaf with cream cheese icing.

Reading on, I found another gem, with ample amounts of profanity included (which let's face it really makes the reading very entertaining) about decorating for fall. It may take just the "right" sense of humor to appreciate this one, but that isn't going to stop me from sharing it because it made me laugh out loud, not an easy thing to do before the java is jittering through my veins, to read it go to 

"It's Decorative Gourd Season - ...".

Happy Fall! Now let's make some pumpkin treats, buy the biggest turkey that will fit in the oven, and soothe our souls with pumpkiny treats and ample fall decorations as a means to deal with the sudden wintertime darkness that has fallen early in the evening with the end of daylight savings time.

Here's a couple links to my pumpkiny culinary adventures from this fall, if you're feeling inspired to get you cooking groove on:

• Pumpkin Pie Spiced Latte
• Honey Mama's Gluten-Free Pumpkin Carrot Cake 
• Pumpkin Pie Vanilla Chai 

I'll close with one more helpful hint found on McSweeney's this morning while I was procrastinating researching:

DON’T PROCRASTINATE:

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Better Than You Normally Do

"Procrastination is an alluring siren taunting you to google the country where Balki from Perfect Strangers was from, and to arrange sticky notes on your dog in the shape of hilarious dog shorts. A wicked temptress beckoning you to watch your children, and take showers. Well, it’s time to look procrastination in the eye and tell that seafaring wench, “Sorry not today, today I write.”

Okay, now to take those sticky note pants of Honey Bearskins Rug and to pick-up where my Anti-Showering Campaign of last week left off.

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”
― Henry David Thoreau

Happy Monday!

- H.M. Wild

Makin' Tracks

"There are two things that interest me, the relationship of people to the land and the relationship of people to each other."             - Aldo Leopold 

We headed out yesterday afternoon to explore ATV trails off the Nabesna Road.  We explored the Copper Lake trail that runs through the dense taiga along a well maintained trail that would be excellent for any number of recreational activities.  I was dreaming of snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, snow machining, and of course, summertime activities like trail running and mountain biking.  The temperature was in the mid-20's, which has been some of the coldest weather we've experienced out here, to date.  We were out for a total of three hours, and the kids held up really well right up until the last 20 or so minutes when the sun had dropped and we were weaving our way back through the low, dense part of the woods.  As we moved through that area, you could feel the air temperature grow colder and colder.  I had to laugh, because by March I am sure the kids will be asking why I insist they wear coats and snow pants when it's in the 20's.  For now, they were a little cold and happy to get back to the truck as the sun set.  

Driving out the road the golden sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadowy lines across the snow and ice covered road.  The dense, short spruce filled woods leave for open spaces in the view and even when you are nestled right in the thick of it, you can often spot views of the surrounding mountains, including Mt. Sanford.  During the 16 or so mile drive from The Moose Lodge, out to the trail head we did not pass a single car.  Not one.  Needless to say, we arrived at the trailhead to find we had the vast wilderness all to ourselves.  

As Parke unloaded the ATV and trailer, I snapped a few shots of the scenery.  Looking down the trail from the parking lot, revealed a clear blue sky view of Mt. Sanford waiting out in the distance, off the trail.  

"I could never resist the call of the trail." - Buffalo Bill                      

A frosty picnic table, coated in a thin layer of early winter snow glistened and sparkled in the afternoon sunshine, like bars of gold laid out side by side.

We came to a creek crossing a few miles in and I had to stop and photograph this bridge.  It is kind of incredible when you think about how far out in the thick of the wilderness we were, and yet a beautifully constructed bridge waited for us, providing ease of access to the vast wilderness.

Just over the bridge crossing the temperatures dipped lower and lower, as the sun fell out of view and we wove our way through the crisp, dark woods.  

Looking back across the bridge as we moved deeper and deeper into the woods. Following the tracks of coyote and wolf, and what we guessed might have been a lynx. Tiny squirrel and spruce hen or willow ptarmigan tracks skittered and scattered around the light snow cover.  Caribou tracks meandered along the trail and then back into the dense brush, then back again.     

Tiny squirrel and spruce hen or willow ptarmigan tracks skittered and scattered around the light snow cover.  Caribou tracks meandered along the trail and then back into the dense brush, then back again.                       

                        

"The cleverest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness." - John Muir 

 "It's the way you ride the trail that counts." - Dale Evans                    

Much of the trail looked like this:  

Dense taiga bathed in golden sunlight, following along a trail that was comfortably wide enough to travel without the constant annoyance of stray branches waiting to poke out someones eye.  It made for a nice, scenic ride. Then we reached an open marshy meadow, frozen in time - a reflection of the swampy marshy tundra, now covered in thin sheets of ice settled into low spots in the earth, and the ruts made by ATV's earlier in the year.

"The wilderness is the preservation of the world." Henry David Thoreau 

"Doing what you like is freedom. Liking what you do is happiness." -Unknown     

Mt. Sanford sits directly under the glow of the sun.

A snapshot of Sanford in the sunshine, taken across the thin layer of marsh ice, reflecting the rays of the sunshine and illuminating the contrast of short spruce against the crisp blue early November skies.

"My restless roaming spirit would not let me stay home for long." - Buffalo Bill 

Parke looking out toward Tanada Peak, taking in the waves of thin, high clouds stretching across the crisp blue sky then disappearing as they fly into the intense glow of the sun.

After traveling 7.15 miles in a little over an hour, we stopped at a big clearing and George made snow angels on the sheets of marshy ice.  

 "Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." - T.S. Eliot  

Then we had a hot apple cider party out in the clearing and ate some snacks, taking in the expansive view, 360 degrees of mountains, one vast range drifting into another, where the Wrangell's meet the Mentastas.  

One hour before sunset, we headed back to the trailhead, reluctantly, with a dead camera battery, and a back-up battery I thought was charged up, was in fact dead as a doornail.  

Based on the golden light covering the landscape, we knew it was only going to get better from here on out, but with a little over 7 miles to go, we headed back into the woods and stopped along the trail to observe the sunset and watch the endless stream of jet planes making their mark across the sky, the trails reflecting in the sunshine, creating a strange luminescence.  

Then, with a gentle massage to coax a tiny bit of life back out of the dead battery pack, I managed to capture this one final parting shot, before the camera really died for good:

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." 

- Ralph Waldo Emerson