Finale

Well I think it’s time to bring this experiment to a close.  The next semester of school starts very soon, and I’m already getting overloaded with the amount of work needed to start things off on the right foot.  While there are still more Alaska stories to tell they’ll have to be in person, at a later time.

Part of the work I’m involved with now is applying for summer jobs.  To do so I reference previous experiences and skills I’ve gained, and of course Alaska is top of the list.  And although I would talk about how positive it was and how much I learned regardless, it was positive and I did learn a lot.

It’s a cliche by this point, but law school does not teach you how to be a lawyer.  It certainly helps, but there are facets to the practice that are simply not covered in school, at least in the first year.  The human element is large, whether it’s explaining to a client why they’re screwed, or talking to another attorney about the logistics of a court appearance.  Even if there was a class on real world practice, immersion is the best teacher.  I am certain the lessons I learned at the firm I worked in this summer will be with me my entire career.

Secondly, I practiced and refined my writing.  Here’s the dirty little secret about law: A good writer will make a good lawyer regardless of their legal “skills”, while someone who can read a case and zero in on the key elements, but can’t communicate them, will always falter.  Communication in general, and writing in particular, is so important in the legal world that I would rather employ someone who received an A in legal writing and C in every other class than the reverse.  Ironically perhaps, being skilled in legal writing also helps for your final exams.

Alaska wasn’t all roses.  The class was interesting, if probably near-worthless to whatever focus I decide to do(although you never know).  Anchorage is still kind of a dump, although picks up considerably with access to a car.  There were trips that didn’t turn out great, and trips that I wished I could have taken.  But it was seven weeks in a foreign state; it’s not supposed to be perfect.  Even with the occasional snag, the experience was positive and will continue to pay dividends.  Although I missed my friends and loved ones, career-wise I don’t think I could have had a better summer.  Also Alaska’s gorgeous.  Everyone should visit, though perhaps not live there for a couple of months.

This blog was an interesting experiment.  How consistent would my writing be?  Answer: not very.  But it was good practice for that oh-so critical skill.  Will I try another one?  Maybe…I’m sure year two is worth some ink down the line.  But the idea of taking on another project right now gives me chills.  However if I do so, I will post the URL right here.  Consider it the post script.  Otherwise, this is it for me for a while.  Thanks to all you loyal reader, and best of luck.

-Noah

Senses on Full

Writing about the trek at the Visitor’s Center reminded me of something that has caught my attention before.  Whenever I’ve engaged in some strenuous activity, my senses seem enhanced for a while.  I don’t mean like Wolverine, hearing a fly buzzing three miles away, but it is noticeable.  For example, there was a gym next to the dorms that I would visit a couple times a week.  If I had a good session, I would come back to the kitchen and everything would smell more distinct.  Any unwashed dishes would smell much more foul, and likewise anything tasty in the fridge would be even more appealing.

How does this relate to the hike in Denali?  As I said, I got completely exhausted and went to the center to rest and listen to music.  Sure enough, the whole music listening experience was enhanced.  I was hearing instrumental riffs and trills that I had simply never picked up on before; it was like listening to the director’s cut of a song.  Now I would have thought it had something to do with the exhaustion thing, being close to sleep making your brain act funny or whatever, but for the increased sense after any kind of major exertion.  The human body is very interesting, no?  Has anyone else experienced something similar?

Denali: Part 3

Day 2 (cont.): When we last left off, our group had just finished a pretty, if lengthy, trip through the backcountry of Denali National Park.  After five hours on the bus, we arrived at our final destination, and the furthest destinations possible for all park goers.  Wonder Lake, notorious not just for a wondrous lake, but for literally being under the shadow of gigantic Mount McKinley.

We landed, ate our granola bars, unpacked our gear, and looked for a campsite to set up.  The weather was nice, sunny and breezy.  Some of our best weather of the trip, a fact that was rapidly approaching peak irony.

Our search for a campsite was more arduous than it should have been at a site that, frankly, few people overnight at.  The camping zone was essentially a circle, with outlets in the circle leading to camping areas, food storage lockers, and the like.  The first problem was the initial outlets that were full up with previous campers.  No issue really, we’d just keep going around until we found an area.  We walked for half a mile before realizing we had (realistically) gone way too far.  A minor snag.

The second problem was that our crap was heavy.  The wood, the bags, the backpacks; stuff adds up.  Trekking under the sun, after a long bus ride, after getting far too little rest was very draining.  Finally I called it, told two folk to leave their stuff with me so they could find the right campground.  We had clearly made a mistake somewhere.  Another minor snag.

But all this was foundation for the real problem with Wonder Lake, which was this:  it was the goddamn mother lode of mosquitoes.  Swarms and clouds surrounded us.  Well me and Jules, the other two had gone off searching for vacant pastures.  This problem was major.

I hate mosquitoes, I really do.  I realize that’s not a unique position on this green Earth, but that doesn’t lessen the feeling one iota.  The biting and the itching are no fun of course, but what really grinds my gears is the buzzing around my ears.  There is no sound worse than the shrill twizzzZZZZ of a bug circling you before coming in for a closer look.  I’m certain my own private hell will include choruses of mosquitoes in perma-orbit around my head.  Actually I think hell gets their mosquito supply from Wonder Lake.

So there we were, swatting bugs and looking miserable.  We had these special hats with netting that we put on, but that didn’t stop them from buzzing around you and landing on your face(although the biting was noticeably reduced).  With the bites nearly shut-off, I tried to sit down and zen away their existence.  Mixed results.  But soon enough our scouting two came back, said they found a site, we should have taken a left past the bus stop, not a right, etc etc.  We grab the stuff, which hasn’t gotten lighter in the previous ten minutes and head over there.  It’s a nice enough spot, but priority one is digging out the bug spray and liberally applying it to my hands, face, ears, eyes…sweet, sweet DEET.  I realized then and now that my skin was absorbing far too much toxicity, that my sweat could be used to protect crops and so on but I didn’t care.  It got the job done.

Now for people who may find themselves in a similar spot, there are natural ways to combat bug swarms.  It’s not any of that homeopathic DEET/DDT-free junk they sell at the Wheat Grassery, that stuff won’t do diddly.  Nope, you gotta pray for rain.  A good driving rain will scatter the bugs for a little while.  I look up.  Clear, sunny skies.  I pray real hard but god knows I skirt the atheism/agnosticism border (brought on by mosquito experiences at Jew camp, a fact which I’m sure amuses Someone greatly).  With no monsoon, there is another possibility, and that is starting a real smoky fire.  And lo, we brought wood with us.  And low, on the ground, lots of leaves for getting things nice and smoky.

Except, Wonder Lake bans all fires!  What?  What in the world is the point of camping if you can’t build a raging, dangerous camp fire?  And more importantly, why did I carry all that wood?!!?

Grumbling and slapping, we set up the tents and got to planning.  It was early afternoon, and our final full day in Denali.  The bus was coming early tomorrow, as usual.  Jules and Kiki were set on exploring the Wonder Lake area, whereas I wanted to get the hell out of there.  Nick wanted to explore some of the trails back at the Visitor’s Center, so again we split up to go hiking in different spots.  Nick and I grabbed our gear and went to the bus area to wait.  Along the way we stopped by the lake, and spoke with a very nice elderly couple from Denmark.  The woman was sweet, occasionally struggling to find a particular word in English (both of their English was excellent, whereas my Danish was too rusty to even try).  As usual, it’s great fun to talk to people from other countries.  Here’s a pic of Wonder Lake(eleventy trillion mosquitoes not pictured):

The bus arrived, a touring special.  We begged a ride on, which was no real problem.  Unfortunately, the bus driver/tour guide was terrible.  We had been spoiled by Dick apparently.  Besides stopping regularly to look at…things, he told some awful stories.  My favorite was how Mt. McKinley got its name, which was at least a 20 minute tale that ended with some explorer trying to stick it to some silver-standard people by naming it after the governor of Ohio at the time, who supported the gold standard.  Riveting stuff I know, but the length of time it took you to read that sentence is exactly as long as that story should have been.  When we arrived at the center we hightailed it out of there.

The sky was beginning to cloud up at this point, but the weather looked fine for some light hikes, which the area purported to provide.  There were two routes from center: up or down.  Flipping a coin in my head, I nominated down for the initial hike.  Ideally we’d get to a good spot, then go to the hills, then take a bus back in time for dinner.

Two problems hit us on the way down: the trail deteriorated and it started to drizzle.  The drizzle wasn’t too bad, but it did make things chilly.  I got a nasty cold weeks ago after a long hike in the rain, and wasn’t looking to repeat it(especially with the final exam so close).  But more pressing was the trail turning narrow and muddy, and on occasion, being lost altogether.  In addition, the light downhill slope was getting more and more steep.  Now that wasn’t too bad for the way down, but it promised tough times on the way back.

However, it was beautiful.  The foggy hills, the flowers and brush, the crisp air; all painted a rugged and vitalizing picture.  Yeah it was chilly and steep, but it was fundamentally fun.  I was having fun.

After a while, we got to a cliff edge and decided to turn around.  We could have gone further, but the weather was getting wrose and we still wanted to try the aerial view before we had to be on the bus.   I realize now this shot was somewhat predictive:

So we headed up.  As expected, the hills were grueling.  To keep costs low, I had decided against buying new, water-resistant, light hiking pants.  However, as the rain got heavier so did my pants, making the climb even more arduous.  Then a strange thing happened: I became exhausted.  And I don’t mean I gradually got more tired.  I mean that one second I was moving along, and the next my tank was squarely on “E”.  It was an odd feeling, one I had never experienced before.  Of course I had been out of energy in my life, but generally you feel it coming.  This was an instantaneous drop-off, and it literally took my breath away.

My guess is it was some combination of working hard on the hill, the dropping temperatures, and diminished internal resources from low sleep/low food.  Regardless, things were getting really tough for me.  I slowly moved up the hill, far slower than I had before, which concerned Nick.  I told him I wasn’t going to pass out, which was true, but that he should keep moving.  I slowly moved upward, stopping to rest when needed, which was often.  This let my pants accumulate more water, which wasn’t helping.

But I made it to the top where Nick was waiting.  He asked me if I wanted to try to tackle the upper path.  The rain was coming down fairly hard at this point, but I told him if I had some time to rest, I would give it a shot.  We sat down for ten minutes, munching on granola and dried fruit.  And then we moved on.

The best part of the upper half was trying to find the trail.  We found some scratched out portions of grass and took them, but these literally led to mountainous drop-offs.  Were the sheep trying to kill us off?  We did find the correct path and moved on, but I could tell that break had not fully restored me.  I kept at it, but when the path took a noticeably sharp uptick, I told Nick I had to head back.  To his credit, he supported this decision.  Before heading back, I took a pic of Nick in the still-worsening rain.  He looks exactly how we both felt:

Frodo, you must destroy the One Ring!

So I headed back to the heated Visitor’s Center, where I pulled out some music, snacked, and rested.  Not too long after, Nick showed up, explaining the fog had made any more climbing too treacherous.  I supported his decision.  And an hour later, we sneaked onto a bus headed back to Wonder Lake.  The bus ride was far more interesting than the way down.  We spotted a wolf, which is very rare in the park:

Near the end our bus rounded a corner and startled a moose.  We were told most animals that hang out by the road are used to vehicles and don’t think it a big deal, especially since the animals aren’t disturbed.  But for some reason this moose was skittish.  Its response?  Jumping in the nearest lake.  I couldn’t stop laughing.

Otherwise, another uneventful bus ride.  These were becoming second nature.  We warmed up and snacked, looking forward to a “real” dinner back at the campsite.  Our timing was excellent, as we got back at about the same time Kiki and Jules had; in fact the water for our bags o’ food was already on the boil.  We shared stories and pictures and got to eating.  Not bad, especially when you’re as hungry as we were, but it had nothing on the real stuff.

Getting late and cool and dark(WHY NO FIRES??? C’MON!), our last activity was all of us crawling into a tent to play some Euchre.  I’m not going to say who my partner was, but she has a ways to go still on her Euchre development.  But it was fun and cozy and a nice way to end our final evening at Denali.  We said our goodnights, promised to have them over next time, and crawled into our respective sleeping bags.  The mosquitoes were blessedly absent.

Day 3: Again we wake up far too early.  Once again packing up the tents and eating little to nothing, we head to the bus area with our stuff.  There’s an area in the food lockers for people to leave things for the next group, so we drop off some bags of food and the wood(ha!).  It was a much lighter trek without it.  The bus comes right on time, so we load up with a few other groups and head out.

This trip goes much faster than the way up, mostly because there aren’t many animals out and a lot of sites aren’t open.  We make the requisite bathroom/stretch breaks, and catch shut-eye when possible.  We chat, and it’s good.  Our last shot was a pair of moose off to the side; together, as if waving goodbye to the best group ever:

And upon arriving at the main center and getting into the car, our trip drew to a close.  There was some unpleasantness with the bugs and the weather, it was overall a great time.  The cost meant this was not going to be a regular thing, but the opportunity was too rare not to take full advantage of.  I was, and am, glad I got to go to one of the most beautiful places in North America.  If any of you have the chance, I wholeheartedly recommend it.  We drove back to our final weeks of work and school.  And a very looming final exam.

Bonus: When we got back, no ticket on the car!  Eat it Denali!

Denali: Part 2

Day 1(cont.):

After our Savage River bear run-in, we finished our hike with no more issue.  We enjoyed the scenery and gave a good story to hikers we met on the way back.  After returning to the trail head, we packed up and headed towards the campsite.  However, on the way back a dry riverbed caught our eye.  It was practically begging to be hiked in.  Feeling adventurous, we pulled over on the side of the road and jumped in.

The dry riverbed was exactly that, a channel where water once flowed.  It was mostly rocks, with a little scrub poking through.  A remarkably wide area; we could have had 8-10 people walking side by side in it without touching bank.  As such, our group scattered a bit.  Some went on to forge ahead, others stayed behind to examine tracks or cool rocks or spiders or whatever.

Eventually we reached the end of the “river”.  Head back or push forward?  Silly question.  We climbed out of the bed and slogged on.  Loosely, we were following moose track/moose scat, but we were basically moving in wherever piqued our interest.  Along the way I spotted this happy critter:

I couldn’t get close enough to pet it, but I got much, much closer than I could have if it was a city rabbit.  This is par for course of animals in Denali.  With the one notable exception I’ll mention later, the animals here were not afraid of humans.  The ethos of the park was a light touch, and generally the visitors held to that standard.  Great for photographers!

We bushwhacked for a while until coming upon an actual flowing river.  The river wasn’t wide per se, but it required some skill to cross.  Our man Jules, showing raw bravado, found a narrowish point, leaped over and egged us to join him.  Jules masterfully avoided mentioning how soggy his ankles had become, but their dampness was not lost on the rest of us.  We three forged ahead to find an easier crossing point.  We reached a spot that I could leap, and Nick could pole vault over, but that Kiki felt stranded.  After making said leap, we decided to split up, with Kiki and I moving around the undergrowth, and Nick and Jules checking the raised portion ahead.

What actually happened was that Kiki and I got lost, and in this brush-like flora too.  Now I was grateful to actually set foot in this stuff, because up close it’s far different than it appears from a car or bus.  Driving past, it looks like Denali is covered in this light, verdant, meadow-ish growth; something that would be easy to carouse or frolic in.  It’s very inviting.  But the actual stuff is knee to waist high, relatively tough to penetrate or trample, and decidedly anti-gallivant.  It quashed similar temptations for the rest of the trip.

Kiki and I did find our way back to our starting point, and Jules and Nick soon caught up.  Tired and sweaty and river-wet, we drove back to the main campground.  To set up camp!  Right now I should say I am not a “camper-guy”.  Clearly I have no animosity to camping, but my knowledge of the craft is minimal at best.  All that bear research from the last post?  Useful, but I probably should have been looking up how to pitch a tent or start a fire.  Both of these things were done, but I was standing there like a lump the whole time.  In the case of the former that was literally true: we had trouble setting up the second tent so my job was to stand(kneel) in the middle to demonstrate what the tent looks like fully erected.  Look mommy, I’m helping!

But we succeeded, in both tent and fire.  The fire was very welcome, as the night started to turn chill.  We figured out the little propane burner and began to boil water for the pouch meals.  The vegetarian ones were really tasty, but the “exotic” bags, like honey-mustard chicken or scalloped potatoes were completely awful.  But no one expects fine cuisine on camping trips, right?

After dinner, sitting around the crackling fire, we pulled out our S’Mores kit.  Our kit was standard, except you had the choice of Hershey’s choclate or Reese’s PB Cups nestled in the graham crackers.  P.S. wow!  Those Reese’s are the wave of the future.  Highly recommended.  Here’s a pic of Kiki and Jules doing their marshmallow thing:

I know why Jules keeps eying those Reese’s.

After S’Mores fun and beers drinking, we tucked in for the evening.  Our timing was great, as the night was getting colder still and rain was starting to trickle down.  We took care of our business and shimmied into our sleep wear and got into our respective tents and sleeping bags.  My bed is nicer, but there is something cozy about a sleeping bag when the tent is going “pitter-patter” against the falling rain.  I quickly fell asleep.

Day 2(kinda):

I woke up needing to pee.  Badly.  Did I, did I forget to pee last night after all those beers?  I couldn’t remember.  What I did know was that a: I wanted to visit the latrine; b: it was goddamn freezing outside; c: it was goddamn raining outside; d: it was warm in the sleeping bag; and e: my tentmate’s head was directly in front of the tent exit.  I really didn’t want to get up, but I really wanted to go.  Could I will the urine away, maybe some kind of teleport action?  I tried really hard, but no luck.  Arggh!  What time was it?  We needed to be up at some ungodly hour to catch our bus to the next campground.  Tossing and turning I tried to go back to sleep, conceding the inevitable kidney damage.   But No Luck.  Resigned, I got up and in doing so, noticed a second exit to the tent, on my end.  I unzipped it quickly and scurried out.

IT WAS COLD.  My body “sensed” it was cold out from the inside of the sleeping bag and tent, but being faced with it…man.  I slipped on my sandals and did some kind of crouching shuffle-walk to the latrine, 20 feet away.  I looked at my watch: 3AM!  Great start to the day!  I got to the porta-potty and began to feel some release.  It hurt a little, I had to go so bad.  And um, sorry to the next person, it was so cold my hand was really shivering.

Having finished, I hobbled back to the tent and got into as much warm space as I could scrounge.  Was it even worth sleeping for a mere two hours longer?  Yes.

Day 2:

We slowly get up at five, or somewhere near it.  We have about an hour to strike the set, eat breakfast, and get over to a new area to catch the bus taking us to Wonder Lake.  The bus trip would take five hours, and along the way much scenery and wildlife was promised.  No one has any problem getting up, but we’re all moving slowly.  For obvious reasons.

The packing proceeded steadily, if slowly.  I made some instant oatmeal, a pale breakfast indeed compared to steel-cut heaven.  But I threw in some dried pineapple and made it palatable.  Barely.  After slight fuel, we loaded up the car and headed to the station.  Here our communal lack of experience caught up, when we discover that our car can’t actually park in the lot overnight like we planned.  Apparently the right move is to park at a special lot, and take a shuttle to the bus depot.  We debated heading back for the time expenditure of the shuttle vs. the risk of a tow vs. the cost of a ticket.  We spoke to some officials in the bus building, and they tell us at worst our penalty will be a ticket “but for parking over a single night, you’re probably fine”.  We take this tepid approval as gospel and pray the car is in the same place when we come back the next day.  We unload our stuff, and lug some very heavy wood over to the pickup station, looking forward to the fire we’d build at Wonder Lake.  The camper bus arrived, and we and other intrepid campers pile on our stuff and selves.

There are two bus systems in Denali.  One is the camper-style, with space for gear.  The other is the tour-style, which made frequent stops and had running commentary.  Our driver, Dick, was a salty guy who laughingly told us we would not be stopping every time some moose wandered around a field.  Dick told us he’d be keeping chatter to a minimum, and stopping only for “bears or better”.  Considering how worn-down the entire bus looked that early in the morning, his plan was duly appreciated.

I tried to grab shuteye when possible, but these backcountry roads were not regularly visited by the department of urban development, if you know what I’m saying.  I’d get maybe 10-15 minutes, when a large pothole would jar me awake.  The bus had some light conversation and light sleepers, and eventually I gave up and talked to folk.  We made a couple of stops at campgrounds to pick up/drop off people, but things were uneventful until we noticed a couple of buses stopped on the road.  Why?

“Bear!  Bear on the road!”  Anyone dozing woke up and sure enough

Dick was explicit on not dangling bodies, arms, heads outside the bus to get a better shot.  We didn’t really need to.

The only other animal of note we saw on this leg was a caribou.  Not a fancy animal, but I hadn’t seen one yet

Our last stop before the final 45 minute push was a very nice visitor’s center.  This center was the last stop for most of the non-camper people, and as such, was fairly busy even when we arrived.  The center faced out to the stunning Polychrome Mountains.  Unfortunately I couldn’t get a good picture.  But imagine a row of epic mountains painted in reds and greens and blues, and you’ll get the idea.

After our last break, we spent a little more time on the bus.  Awake and excited, we finally arrived at Wonder Lake.  Unfortunately things took a downturn there, for this finale of Denali ‘08.  But that will have to wait until next time.