Celebrating in Alaska – Part One

May was a whirlwind month with a work event I was tasked with. We also traveled to the Brushy Mountains of NC for a family reunion on my Dad’s side.

You might remember when Ryder and I went last fall for apple picking. Speaking of Ryder, in addition to his birthday excursion to California in April, we also celebrated his 5^th birthday-day with a donut morning and a new super outfit to add to his collection.

May 31^st was also a huge day. Chris and I congratulated each other and thanked God for ten thrilling years together. Married at 19 and he at 20, we grew up a lot since then and I see even more now how that was God’s intent.

I have learned much from Chris and much in leaning on God through all the adventures. Three kids later, wow, what will ten more years (and many more) bring?

In celebration we headed to Alaska for a seven day cruise. I apologize that the pictures don’t do it justice. The posts might be long and I have surely still left something out. But we wanted to share nonetheless.

Before I get started, I want to thank our parents and my sister, Michal, for letting us escape for a week. Without the super powers of Michal, of Oma and Papa, Grandma and Grandpa, the Mini Macks and Toby wouldn’t have had one of the best weeks ever. Nothing like calling your kid across the country and him saying, “I hope you are having fun, ‘cause I sure am.” Bravo family, we are so very thankful!

Without further ado…

DAY 1

The hardest part in leaving was choosing which book to bring on the flight. We are light packers by nature and every item is carefully chosen. I couldn’t help but notice however, that this trip involved two carry-on suitcases rather than our usual shared one. What had happened? Ten years ago our first married week together looked quite similar to today’s (minus double the luggage). Like last time, we embarked way earlier than any newly married couple would care to. Like last time, he is asleep on the plane and I am left visiting with the quilted earth below and the soft pulls of cotton floating across my window. But the best part, like last time, is that I am equally giddy with excitement. It isn’t lost on me what blessings I have been given. I might not have known to the extent I do now, but being married, truly having a pal to live, to love, to bicker with and challenge, to cuddle, and to question what they are thinking, is, in a simple word, treasure.

I love this man. I love that he tries his hardest to be home at 5:30pm most weekdays for fear I will eat the children for dinner. But knowing if he shows we will all calm with him there (to the untrained eye it will still look like a circus. To any spouse reading, you know what I am talking about.) I love that he is loyal to anyone he calls friend and makes us all feel special when our moment comes to hear him speak (anyone who knows Chris knows words, beyond that of sports topics, are few. But this is in no way an indicator of the vast topics organized between his ears).

We are three hours shy of Seattle. I have been told it is a clean and organized city. Home to Starbucks, Microsoft, Amazon and rain clouds. It is the birthplace of many ingenious inventions we have all benefited from. As of this month, it now pays the highest minimum wage to its community ($15 an hour) in the nation.

We took the Link subway system to the last stop, Westlake Station. It couldn’t have been easier. Trudging our luggage down 5^th Avenue to a quick brunch spot and past the famous Space Needle Tower. Through a sculpture garden overlooking Elliott Bay, we then made our way three miles down Elliott Avenue connecting to the piers holding cruise ships. Pier 91 was our winner. We had made it. Alaska, here we come!

DAY 2 and 3 – At Sea

I reached over the linen tablecloth and fancy table setting breaking rules of etiquette. Three stripes of crème bru le were before Chris in a flag shaped dish. It was declaring itself the best dessert on the ship and I quickly became a citizen of all that it represented. Velvety, smooth, the hard candy top that was broken like thin ice on an enchanted pond revealed the flawlessly sweet custard-like cream below. The waiter saw the stars form in my eyes and was quick to switch out the chocolate lava cake before me with my very own vanilla bean, chocolate, and coffee striped crème bru le. Paired with a perfectly bitter cappuccino, our dinner concluded the night with fireworks.

It helped to justify this delicacy considering the earlier activities of the day. We spent the day at sea to travel north into the inner passage of southeast Alaska. Guests of the ship were acclimating to the new time zone (three hours back for us and soon to be entering a fourth) and also their sea legs. I had entered the gym at 6am. Never anticipating I would participate on the eighth deck bow gym, but there I was trying my best on the treadmill. I felt like I was one of those girls who is strutting down the runway all sexy-like, only to find I have Neanderthal feet and I am actually strutting in a giant bounce house hoping to land evenly with every stride.

“I don’t usually hold on to the machine when I run.” The girl next to me says embarrassed.
“Most runners aren’t running on 10 foot swells.” I counter.
She smiles knowing I too felt like a toddler on a path of Jell-O. Up and down. UP and Down. We sailed through the Pacific towards Alaska. The view of the Puget Sound and Tracy Arm, the following afternoon, clearly made up for the awkward workout.

Day 4 – Juneau

Juneau, the capital of Alaska with 730k residents, most are employed by the government and aside from the largest private employer, the Alaskan Brewing Company, the remaining seem to be involved in tourism. The capital has a beautifully kept downtown with brightly colored shops of Alaskan Tlingit crafts and all the tourist trinkets any souvenir-loving tourist could want.

We met “Ken”, our tour guide with Above and Beyond Alaska, between Mt. Robert’s tram station and the visitor center. The only clients under his stead for the morning, we were quickly off to be outfitted with kayaks. Making our way out of the city and pulling into a fisherman’s gravel parking lot with a small office hut and adjoining kaki canvas tent.

We put on our boots, spray skirts, and jackets. Ten minutes more in the van and we were at the edge of Mendenhall Lake where the glacier, bearing the same name, was pouring into the lake’s water. Ken waved from shore and promised to return in three hours. Meandering past sleepy bald eagles, squawking seagulls, and small birds peppering the shore in search for breakfast, we took in the scenery.

Ice cubes the size of boulders and small cars bobbed around us. A kayaker’s obstacle course of breezy fun, I weaved in and out of the cubes paths. Plunk, blub, thump, the ice would talk to me as I paddled by. The seagulls, meeting for morning coffee, rolled their eyes at me, no doubt adding me to their tally of incessant visitors and crazy lake drivers. I just giggled at them, not caring of their opinion and enjoying the flawless blue skies above and the calm lake waters below. An unusual day on the lake – clear and sunny – we were thankful for the adventure.

The powerful sound of a waterfall greeted us as we turned the corner of the peninsula. Paddling past it, feeling its misty spray on our faces, we edged within two hundred yards of the calving beautiful blue glacier before us. Ken later explained it is blue because layer upon layers of ice build, absorbing light, and the blue shade is the only color that remains to be seen. What a glorious one it was. Fresh, clean, and bright, it was magnificent.

We made a quick stop at the shore near the waterfall to stretch our legs and snap a photo to text to the kids at home. We were in Alaska and it nearly felt surreal. No other boaters were on the lake that morning, so the self-guided tour felt all the more exciting. Popping my spray skirt to retrieve a new lens between my knees, I had for the first time taken my professional camera on a kayaking venture. It was equally thrilling and nerve racking. Another seaplane zoomed overhead taking more tourists to husky dog sledding camps, salmon bakes, and hikes on the glacier. We had the fish eye view of the land, enjoying the mountains curved around us with the whimsical trickle of large ice sculptures melting as we paddled past.

Ken returned as promised around lunchtime. He told us of his days climbing in Wyoming and following pals to Alaska twenty-two years prior. He says Juneau is his favorite place on earth. But this doesn’t stop him from arranging trips to the arctic or traveling home during the winter months to be with his 89-year-old mother in Rhode Island. Ken took us back to the dock where we borrowed Wi-Fi from the local library that faces our ship at port. An odd place for a library, fourth floor of a parking garage facility, Ken said he fell asleep in the library one time only to awake staring straight into a cruise ship stateroom of a tourists.

The town of Juneau accepts their daily guests with broad smiles. I wandered into one of the government buildings that Ken had recommended as true Alaskan artists’ crafts. There I smelled the beautiful rich aroma of yellow cedar. Mr. John, a Tlingit (pronounced “Kling-ket”) native of Ketchikan, another small sea village south of Juneau, was carving a serving dish adorned with an Alaskan eagle. I was entranced, not ever anticipating I’d spend two hours there. I talked with Mr. John about the possibility of a handcrafted kayaking paddle. An eagle on one end and a wolf on the other, I learned it was an acceptable clan pairing so as to avoid inbreeding in Alaskan tribes.

A surprise call from Ryder, Rory, and Grandma made the day especially great. It takes great skill to have a meaningful conversation with a three and five year old over the phone across the country. I learned that Rory very much enjoys phone calls, regardless if I understand what she is saying. Pushing her Grandma to allow for a second conversation on the phone to speak to, “My mom. My friend. She is my friend and I need to speak to her.” I soon made my way back to the ship and woke Chris from his afternoon nap with a report of my interactions, including delivering Ryder’s request to “Tell Daddy I love him.” And Rory’s “Tell Daddy to bring you home.” All aboard! Next stop, Sitka!