Fur Rondy

For the past 76 years, Anchorage has celebrated the Fur Rondy, short for the Fur Rendezvous. It started as a three day event, coinciding with the time the trappers and miners were in town to ply their winter wares. It has become much bigger.

Opening Night Fireworks. We were lucky because we hadn't realized it was opening night of the Rondy, so we arranged to meet up with friends for drinks. Only all the bars were packed to the gills. On a whim (and mostly because it was close and Lithus was cold), we headed over to one of the hotels. The hotel saloon was empty except for the four of us and, surprise!, looked right out over the opening night show.

There's also a carnival (weather permitting, of course). Mind you, we were there when it was 12 degrees F and very windy, so the wind chill was even colder, so weather permitting is relative.

Ooo! But I do love a carnival.

There are still fur traders, too.

Very interesting people...

And the best event, in my not-so-humble opinion, is the Running of the Reindeer. Think Pamplona and the bulls. On snow. With reindeer. Only...a lot fewer of them.

 And more irony.

Okay, so it's really nothing like Pamplona. It was still hysterical. And yes, these videos are the whole thing.

First, the local reserve unit had just come back from the Middle East (every single one of them alive and safe, TTG) and made their march into town...

... And celebrated by running for dear life from reindeer.

Then there was the walk back to the starting line.

 In case you are wondering, yes, those are indeed reindeer on leashes.

And the full Running of the Reindeer:

And the second part...

It's the Fur Rondy and it's Anchorage. Gotta love it.

Playing Tourist

At the end of January, my nephew came to visit us. First and foremost, it was a delight to have him here. He and I share a very special relationship; it gave him and Lithus a chance to get to know each other (and they think the world of each other, but that's not unexpected given who they each are).

But secondary to the chance to be with him, it gave us a chance to see the town of Anchorage from a different point of view. Instead of just being the place where we live and work and go to the grocery store and all that, it became a town to explore and enjoy and see. And take pictures. Lots of pictures.

Downtown Ice Sculptures



Really Big Food

A Cute Shop We Didn't Even Know Existed (and the "world's largest chocolate waterfall, of course)

Art on the Street



Frozen Fog, Part 2

It came through again and this time I had my camera. The pictures still won't do it justice, but you may get the general idea. The most amazing thing about it, imo, is how defined everything is while it is such a solid, opaque white. No clumps of snow; no glittery ice. Truly breathtaking.

See?



This is about 3:30 in the afternoon.

Merry Christmas!

First, the disclaimer:

This is not my video. I have never been to this village.

Now, that being said...it could be any and all of the villages Lithus and I have visited. The grocery stores I know look like this one. The schools, the fields, even the post offices. And mostly, the people. The people I know are this happy, look this kind, are as wonderful as these people appear.

So happy holidays, from Alaska.

Not Tubing, Tubas

Last weekend, Lithus and I stumbled onto a free carols concert in downtown Anchorage. It was all tubas, all the time. In fact, it billed itself as Tuba Christmas. Tuba players from all over the state come together in various towns and cities, dress themselves, dress their horns, and play Christmas music. As my best friend, the Divine M put it, Tubas huh. That must have been something. When I think of Christmas music (or I guess really music in general) tuba is not the first instrument I think of. Interesting.

Now, in fairness, while I do think of brass ensembles, I don't necessarily think of tubas. Or I didn't realize I thought of tubas. I had no freaking idea all of these instruments were in the tuba family. No clue. But they are. It was a delightful, unexpected find. And trust me, if you'd seen them and heard it, you'd think tubas from now on, too.

Frozen Fog

Oh, how I wish I had my camera. It is, however, in Spain with Lithus right now. Instead, I will have to try to describe frozen fog. I won't do it justice. You've been warned.

Interestingly enough, I don't have huge amounts of experience with really dense fog. Dense like 19th c. London Jack the Ripper dense fog. Boston, while it gets a little foggy occasionally, has nothing on 19th century London. The Portland/Vancouver area got it every now and then ~ but we could always see the street lights at least. There was one particular night when I was driving from New Jersey to Suffolk, VA at two in the morning where the fog was impressively heavy. And that's really about it. Until we got to Anchorage.

Anchorage gets fog. Fog as in you can't see out the windows fog. As in the lights get swallowed. As in please-God-don't-let-me-have-woken-up-in-a-Stephen-King-novel fog.

Friday night, such a fog rolled in. Yesterday morning, the world was covered in frozen fog. I've seen ice. I've seen snow. I've seen hail. Frozen fog isn't any of those things. If you've seen frozen fog, you'll know what I mean. If you haven't, you'll have to trust me.

The world is painted a flat white. It's not glittery with ice. It's not reflective, like snow. It's a flat white. And once you get close enough to see it, you discover each individual, miniscule round kernel, packed together like the world's tightest, smallest and whitest bunch of grapes.

It is stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful ~ and unlike anything I've ever seen before.

We officially need two cameras.

Not A Wasted Day

In my world, no day is wasted in which we have learned something. No matter how dull it may seem on the outside, if I've learned some new factoid or piece of information, no matter how trivial, it has been, if not a good day, then at least a day unwasted.

Check it out:

These little cards are all over Valdez, AK. Seriously ~ everywhere. Since my camera isn't all that great, allow me to translate for you:

IF YOU FEEL AN EARTHQUAKE, A TSUNAMI MAY FOLLOW

HOW TO ESCAPE A TSUNAMI

1. Drop, cover and hold during earthquake.
2. Move insland quickly, or use local evacuation route.
3. Wait for official all clear before returning to beach.

Now, I will be the first to admit that these are pretty commonsense instructions so, in that way, I didn't actually learn anything. However! Valdez being so tsunami-prone that these little cards are everywhere is new information. New, intriguing, disconcerting information. But now we know how to escape a tsunami.

Aren't you excited? I knew you were.