June 30, 2009

Glacier Ski Whittier Preliminary Corn Plan

Kruser required a preliminary corn plan, so here it is:

Drive to Whittier (Whittier bound open on 1/2 hr, Portage bound on the hour), and park just on the Whittier side. Cross the tank farm and ascend the Leonard Glacier. 4 miles & 4300 ft vertical to the summit above the Leonard and Lowell Glaciers.

Weather forecast for Western PWS calls for mostly cloudy with slight chance of rain on Friday.

Click to enlarge.

June 28, 2009


RR, PT, and yours truly launched from Whittier bright and early. The stiff breeze and chop gave way to brilliant sunshine and calm waters of Prince William Sound. We dropped the shrimp pots in Passage Canal, and headed to the rock fishing grounds.

Watching the eagles, sea lions, and dall porpoises in the sunshine made the trip all the better, and the rock fishing was good. RR and PT had the touch. I even managed to do a little catching.

Exhausted, we returned to the pots near Whittier and pulled them from the canal in a gale while being pelted with giant raindrops. Quite a shock after the sunshine of Prince William Sound. I guess it always is $#1++ier in Whittier.

No lunch break when there's fish to be caught!

The good Captain RR

June 23, 2009


Born in the spring of 1825, the sapling sprouted and grew. And grew and grew and grew into the great grand daddy spruce of Montagne.

The sad autumn of 2008 saw his demise. A violent wind, perhaps stronger than any that this 184 year old had endured, brought him down. Grand Daddy Spruce was laid low.

My good neighbor, Hugh Mc, taught me to cut a slice from the old tree. Hugh did most of the cutting. I did the sanding, polishing, oiling and counting.

Counting rings, marking each five. Starting in 2008 and counting back to 1825.

We grieved for the grand tree.

He'll still provide some comfort, but in a different way.

Life 101

Post no. 101 is reminiscent of freshman pursuits. Summer arrived and to spring, we bid adieu, a fond farewell. But it is merely a temporary good-bye until we greet the next cycle of melting snow and greening mountains.

So good is summer. Salmon are well on their way to sow their seed, Chinook and Sockeye, soon to be followed by the Pink, Chum and Coho. The geese have passed on, and the robins have arrived. Spindly new-born moose calves and toddling baby bear cubs have become more sure-footed, though still wary.

A verdant viewscape has gradually grown and our winter world of white, except for a few reminders in the shadiest gullies, is free from its frozen facade. Free to grow green.

And, the now green mountains beckon. They beckon when they're white, but it's a different calling. The greening of the mountain is a repeated birth. Bright flowers promise the succulent berry and the bees' honey. Growth and rebirth.

The sun also rises. So early, and then much later, long alights the underside of the clouds in a brilliant spectrum orange to deep purple on its gradual farewell - ah, the high latitudes at the soltstice!

10:15 p.m.
an hour and a half before sunset