Homer With the Fam

We're down here in Homer, Alaska with my parents, brother, and family, and Yukon and Bear. The sun finally decided to come out this morning, and it was indeed a treat to see the golden orb in the sky instead of foggy, soggy mountains.

Staying at our favorite Homer Seaside Cottages near the beach, bakery, and pub (Yukon's requirement), it is easy to forget we need a car and instead walk mostly everyplace. My sister-in-law and I went for a run out towards spindly Homer Spit this morning and took an hour-long time out for moms. Kids and dads and grandparents went on a walk to the Islands and Ocean Visitor Center and met up with us for some lunch on the deck, in full view of Kachemak Bay, the mountains, and a few miscellaneous eagles who tolerated only slightly the advances of local ravens.

Right now everyone is having "quiet time" before heading back to the beach with an armload of toys and shovels. It's breezy but bright, and we'll embrace the weather as well as the unstructured time together.

Family Fun in the Summer (Rain)

It seems as if every time I psych up a member of the family to visit us in Alaska, telling them with unabashed enthusiasm about our then-gorgeous weather, said weather turns terrible.

My brother and family are in town, along with Grandma and Grandpa, and it is raining. Not just raining, actually, but alternating between a steady drizzle and pouring. Ever since they got here last night.

The good news is my relatives are in desperate need of a relaxing week away from Seattle's busy pace, and the rain makes the motivation to get up early and rush out the door quite minimal. The bad news is that with three children in the house under 6, there is a lot of restlessness. My family travel hand is being forced as I must now walk my talk with respect to our mantra of "outside, every day". So out we go.

Rain pants, rain boots, rain hat, rain coat; everybody is dressed in enough rubber and Gore-Tex to supply REI. Snacks, towels, and backpacks added and we're in business. This weekend was the annual Alaska Botanical Garden Fair and since AKontheGO was a sponsor, we trucked the small boys and dads (and me) a mile or so down the road to attend a very soggy but nonetheless delightful afternoon mucking about the 110 acres of native plant-dom.

Bear and Yukon found the "quiet corner" of the Children's Village to read a story about bugs. Looks peaceful and sweet, doesn't it? What you can't hear is Yukon's narrative of the page where it shows the inner workings of a fly, the "guts, brain, and gross insides". No wonder the kid looks spellbound, Dad's turning it into a description of The Fly. Great.

My brother and nephew were busy trying out the craft corner where after a few false starts, Nephew finally got his dad to draw him a zebra on purple craft foam. Never mind everyone else was making caterpillars, Nephew is his own man.

Tomorrow is our last day in Anchorage before we head down to Homer and the beach. At least if it rains I won't worry so much; kids are always wet down there anyway, so a little rain won't hurt.

From the Wolf Den

It is always a sort of let down to go from the high of face-to-face visits with Wolf to the Hour of Power the first week we are home. Not bad, just different.

This morning was like most others; Wolf eating ice over the phone, which drives me absolutely nuts (and he probably knows it), Therapist R. catching up on the weekend and last week, since he was on vacation during our visit, and Yukon and I stretching our brains to make sure we can coherently engage in a dialogue at 6 in the morning. Ah, yes, here we go again.

We talked a lot about Wolf's ability or inability to be able to read the potential pitfalls of a situation and reacting with the appropriate strategy before his brain shuts off and he gets into trouble. That's hard. Really, really hard. His brain is wired to act first, think later, and switching it in reverse is like watching a train come barreling down the track at full speed and then trying to stop suddenly. Hence the term 'train wreck'. I can't imagine trying to learn how to do it. I think it would be a lot like staring at a pot of coffee and not drinking it.

We'll see what happens, though. CHYC is going to push him hard to begin the process, and hopefully he'll see the benefits of thought-switching. Hopefully.

A Surprising Day

I don't like to fly. The irony of this does not escape me, a travel writer, who finds flying in general as pleasant as visiting the dentist. Or the tax man. I changed my mind today.

Invited by the Matanuska-Susitna Convention and Visitor's Bureau to be a "model" (hahaha, model, that's pretty funny) in their 2011 Visitor Guide, Bear and I were chosen for one of the more interesting Alaskan activities.

Normally 'helicopter' and 'Erin' are not mentioned in the same breath, much less the same sentence unless it refers to an emergency situation and my life is in peril. Actually, 'airplane' is not used much, either, come to think of it. I don't like to fly because my life is in someone else's hands, and those of you who know me know my issues with control. Ahem. Anyway...

Bear and I were scheduled to fly from Knik River Lodge to a 6,000 ft glacier atop the famous Knik Glacier, a fifteen-minute ride, tomorrow. I had not yet appropriately psyched myself up for this adventure when my phone rang (btw, my ring tone is National Lampoon's 'Holiday Roads', yeah, so funny). "Hey Erin, this is Mr. Bureau. The weather is great today, any chance you can make it by four?" Um, yeah. Sort of.

We gave Yukon a heads up, packed some warm clothes and our own camera, and made the trip up north about an hour from our home, and made it to the lodge in time to see the small helicopter settle down on an even smaller gravel pad. This couldn't be good.

But it was. Bear received his safety briefing, since there are no child locks on helicopter doors and air awash with rotors at every turn, then in no time (a good thing) at all we were up and soaring across the Great Gorge of the Knik and one our way to country most people only see on television.

We saw mountain goats, we saw water so blue it looks not of this world, we saw glacial ice calving into Lake George, and we soared above mountains so craggy and steep my imagination got the better of me.

The little helo touched down on a glacier at 6,000 feet and were were met by Sven the Musher (I'm not making this up). He has his little operation up on the glacier and swings tourists around the icy flanks with his Iditarod dog teams. Living up there for up to two weeks at a time, Sven enjoys his work and loves to talk about it, especially since this is his first summer as a tour business.

Tom the Photographer took pictures, Bear and I smiled a lot as we swooshed around the glacier amid sunny skies and bright white snow. It was sublime and wild and absolutely crazy all at the same time. When we left, our pilot swooped around the valley and as close as he could to the glacier and mountains, where we saw a mountain goat startle and hide behind a rock, but not before we saw clearly his shaggy coat and long horns.

Bear whispered through his headphones "I think this is amazing." And gave me two thumbs up.

What Makes a Father?

Sometimes the things that make up a father's heart are those bringing pain. I've seen them firsthand these last seven days. As our visit with Wolf began and ended with stressful incidents and conflicting emotions, I became even more convinced that Yukon has got to be one of the most compassionate yet steadfast fathers on the planet. And he belongs to us.

I remember one particular incident at a local swimming pool when Yukon and I were dating. We were training for a triathlon and had taken Wolf for a swim/workout one evening, as we often did, allowing him to swim while we did laps, one or the other of us checking in every so often. For some reason that night, Wolf was having trouble; acting up, forgetting rules and bugging other kids. In the locker room it was even worse; he bugged Yukon, snapped his towel, and was generally a pain in the neck. I could tell when the two of them emerged from the locker room that something was up; both were angry but neither would talk about it in the car. At my house, I sent Wolf upstairs to change and asked Yukon what happened. As the story emerged, I started to say my usual line reserved for friends when the party was over. But he stopped me. I expected an end, a 'great knowing you' or a 'I'll call you'.

I got this instead: "I love him, too."

He still does. In fact, he sometimes loves him when I can't. And that, my friends, is a father.

Yukon offers support to a situation that he chose to enter; a completely transparent relationship fraught with all sorts of unknowns and trials that still bring us grief as a family, but so much joy as well. Those of you who attended our wedding might remember the vow he made to Wolf, one he has continued to nurture even when all hope seems lost. For he is a father who knows what it means to be one.

He went fishing this afternoon; and in the middle of a cast his cell phone rang, and rang again, and a voice came through over the sound of rushing water and the soft splashing of fish in the creek. "Hello, Dad? I just wanted to tell you thanks for coming to see me, and Happy Father's Day."

That was all he needed.

Mayor's Marathon Fun

Yukon and I helped out at the Anchorage Mayor's Marathon today, handing out water, bananas, and pretzels to about 2,000 runners and walkers participating in the 1/2 marathon event. After our own events of the last week, it was nice to do something together (we even had a date night last night as Bear went to a friend's house for a sleepover).

I am always so impressed by the fortitude of some of these folks who manage to run, walk, creep or crawl their way to the finish line. It never ceases to amaze me and I am humbled to watch some of them complete their first ever event of such magnitude.

Yukon spent most of the day in an improputu drum circle led by one of our young friends from church (Trinity sponsored the Aid Station). He enjoys drumming and was quite entertaining, especially with the monkey hanging from his hat and the cowbell. More Cowbell, Yukon.

We needed a huge nap after we were finished, though. Bear got to spend some quality time with Sponge Bob this afternoon.

Last Night in the Wolf Den

Few words, just images....thank you for sharing our journey. We have a long way to go, and it's nice to know we have such great people following us. Yukon and Bear leave tomorrow morning, and I follow in the afternoon.

We'll leave you with the first family photos taken in over two years.