Ptarmigan Broth

The camera woes continue. Fortunately, such woes don't interfere with my ability to make broth with J's first ptarmigan catch. That isn't to say, however, that I had an easy go with the making of ptarmigan broth. I didn't seem to have a handy way to remove the feet. Remembering my childhood awe in dim sum restaurants, when a cart would present chicken feet, I finally concluded that these stubbornly atttached feet could only add flavor to my ptarmigan soup. And so I made the broth with ptarmigan feet attached. If this is wrong, please let me know.

April 22, 2008

I wish I could buy pork from Sugar Creek Farms in Osage, Iowa.

Sadly, I haven't found a worry-free way to get all the meat back to Alaska. Maybe someday I'll find a way to do so. Until then, I'll keep reading of the adventures and aspirations of Sugar Creek Farm and day-dreaming that our trip to Iowa this summer will permit an opportunity to swing by and see this farm that I love reading about. In addition, I'll consider myself "tagged" for a meme posted on their blog, and - in reply - post one picture of the view from my front door, and one picture of the view from my back window. (The meme actually requires that one post a picture from one's back door, rather than window. But I'm hoping that you all will let me overlook the fact that there is no back door to the hovel on stilts.)

Here is the view of our front "yard" from our arctic entry:






















And here is the view from our back window:
















And, as a completely gratuitous gift, here is the view from down the street:
















an unrelated postcript: Friends, I'm having camera issues. Whenever I'm inside, the flash on my Nikon D-80 insists on going off so brightly that the pictures come out as bright blasts of light. And when I'm outside, the pictures all come out over-exposed like this. Even the auto-focus has become a nightmare and simply refuses to to let me take a picture. Sometimes it taunts me too, weaving in and out of focus, again and again, before I realize that no matter what it does, it's not going to let me snap the picture. I fear that I broke my camera when I dropped it [twice....sigh] at the Portland airport, but I'm still open to any advice from any kind someone who knows a way to fix this Nikon D-80 by simply pushing a button or changing a program or something else like that.

It is amazing ....

how amazingly luxurious it is to read a Sunday newspaper on a Sunday morning. Especially, when that Sunday newspaper correlates to that actual Sunday! Oh, my friends it is bliss.

Sure, I wish the Anchorage Daily News was the newspaper it once was. And I wish we could get the New York Times. And I miss the days when I was going over to Hoppi's and reading her week-old Sunday New York Times and eating eggs fresh from her chicken coop. But a current Anchorage Daily News, even in its current patheticness, available first thing in the morning, and read while we are relaxing on our plywood couch, giddy with the assurance that the dogs have been walked and sipping our first coffees of the day.......

It's a veritable slice of utopia.

Pear Pie with Almond Cake Topping

My mother was the one that taught me how to take a dreaded task, and transform it into a process you can enjoy. I can distictly remember the lesson.

It was several years ago. Sadly enough, it was decades ago. (Oh, friends, how can the time pass so quickly?) I was a freshman at college, and needed to submit a Financial Aid Form, by a date certain, in order to receive financial aid during my second year. The deadline was days away, but the form was far from being done. I needed my mother's tax information. And calculators. And paperwork. And all sorts of other things that were far, far too practical for my collegiate state of mind, not to mention beyond the realms of my family's state of organization. It all just seemed so thoroughly impossible.

I was about to give up hope and accept the fact that my family could not meet deadlines, and that I would be unable to get the financial aid package I needed to return for a sophomore year, when my mother hit upon the perfect solution: she took me out to dinner. Not just to any dinner. But to a dress-up dinner. We got all dressed up, packed up all the papers and calculators we would need, and went out to a fancy restaurant for a fancy dinner. And whilst supping, and laughing, and genuinely enjoying the moment, we finally managed to complete this dreaded task. Miraculously, we filled out that Financial Aid Form. Gratefully, we had enjoyed the process. We actually had fun accomplishing a dreaded task. It really was quite an impressive solution that my mother found.

And that is why it was hardly surprising that I turned to that same strategy to assist me in preparing and filing my taxes.

Well, to be honest, it was a similar strategy. We don't really have a fancy restaurant up here, and I don't really have any fancy clothes left. And, well, it's cold out there (it being a mere 27 below zero). I had little inclination to "treat" myself by going out into it. So, rather than go out for dinner to do our taxes, we stayed home, baked a Pear Pie with Almond Cake Topping, and worked on our taxes. Aside from this little technicality, it was the same idea: enjoying the process, rather than dreading the task!

All in all, it made for a fine weekend with a delicious pie. Indeed, what a fine and productive pie it was. It even inspired us to work on the guest list.



Pear Pie with Almond Cake Topping
(adapted from Pie, by Ken Haedrich)

I really can't praise this pie enough. It's delicious. And unique. But I will confess that the title of the recipe, and the ingredients, didn't inspire me much. I made it because I had the ingredients on hand. It was definitely a fortuitious circumstance. Sometimes the Fates can be kind that way. Perhaps others have better vision than me, but I don't believe that the title or the recipe properly indicate just how good this pie really is! I suppose the best way to describe it is "half pie, and half almond cake," but then I find myself guilty of the same complaint. I think this pie deserves more celebration than such a boring description. Trust me. It's a keeper - an example of decadence and humble magnitude. J., a man of little hyperbole, says it could just be his favorite pie so far. Trust him.

1 single crust, flaky pie crust (unbaked)

5-1/2 cups peeled, cored, and thinly sliced firm pears
1/3 cup, plus 2 tablespoons, sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1-1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
Big pinch of cardamom

1 cup whole almonds
1/3 cup sugar
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 cup sweetened flaked coconut
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature and cut into 1/4 inch pieces
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract

1. Roll out the pastry dough, and invert it into a deep-dish pie pan. Sculpt the edge into an upstanding ridge, and freeze for 15 minutes.

2. Combine the pears, 1/3 cup sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest. Set aside for 10 minutes. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

3. Combine 2 tablespoons sugar, cornstarch, and cardamom in a small bowl, and then stir this mixture into the pears. Scrape the filling into the chipped pie shell, and bake on teh center rack for 30 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 375(F), and bake for 10 minutes more.

4. Meanwhile, prepare the almond cake topping. Put the almonds, sugar, flour, coconut, baking powder, and salt in a food processor and pulse until the nuts are finely chopped. Scatter the butter over the top and pulse until it is well incorporated and the mixture is crumbly. Whist the egg, vanilla and almond extra together in a small bowl, and add to the processor. Pulse again, just until the mixture starts to gather around the blade.

5. Remove the pie from the oven. Using a soup spoon, dollop the cake batter more or less evenly over the fruit. (It will settle during baking.) Return the pie to the oven, and continue to bake until the top is a rich golden brown and the batter is cooked through. (This recipe calls for 20 to 22 minutes, but with my unpredictable stove it took 30 minutes.)

6. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and let cool for at least 2 hours.

Super Cyber Sleuthing

My brother is many things. Witty, yet often stoic. Adventurous, yet calm. Strong, yet laid-back. I could go on. Indeed, I have. I've talked about my brother, and his incredible traits, before. If you knew my little brother, and then read all that I write about my little brother, however, you'd probably conclude that he is an amazing guy that eludes my ability to give proper description. And I'd agree.

But with all my attempts at description, I have never mentioned that he is a super cyber sleuth, and yet intensely private. It is hard to take a good picture of the guy, and even harder to get it posted.

That's why it was much fun to stumble upon this: CLICK HERE.

Good living

It's been a cold week.

I do love our neighborhood.












(Fortunately for me, the morning it was 27 below zero fell on one of J's mornings of the week to walk the hounds.)

More Oregon

J. and I were down in Oregon for Easter, and for a mandatory marriage preparation retreat weekend.

I think this picture pretty much sums up the first impression this rural Alaskan made at her mandatory marriage preparation:





















Rest assured, I made certain to explain - at the first presented opportunity - how Alaska's local option laws required me to travel around with that big, shocking "ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE" sticker. It was fun, however, to hear all the assumptions that had been drawn before I delivered my explanation.

I'm still not sure exactly what I had been expecting from our mandatory marriage preparation weekend retreat, but it turned out to be a wonderful weekend. We learned some good things about each other, and about marriage. We met some really good and fun people, and caught up the times with childhood friends I hadn't seen in over twenty years. I had fun sleeping in the dormitory that used to be my parents' college dormitory and taking "classes" in a building where they once took their college classes. And I loved being able to go with J. to Tiny's Tavern, my father's college local so many decades ago, and be able to plug "Hey, Hey Good Looking" into the jukebox.















All in all, it was wonderful to be back in a childhood stomping ground to find so much - and yet nothing at all - had changed.

Oregon....oh, I adore you so!

This is a picture of Holy Rosary Chapel on Crooked Finger Road, where J. and I will be married.....and where, 38 years and 3 days earlier, my parents were married.




























I know that, from such a view amidst trees, it is hard to see the Holy Rosary Mission. But I couldn't resist sharing the photo of those trees that leave this tundra-dweller in a perpetual state of swoon. It is a breathtaking place.

I took this picture last week, while J., my brother and I were exploring the woods that surround the chapel. They are quite amazing to explore. One can see mountains, and white barns, and rolling foothills. And yet it feels incredibly private. So little traffic.

In addition to its beauty and privacy, the Holy Rosary Chapel has a lot of family significance. According to family legend, my father and his best friend first saw the Holy Rosary Mission whilst driving around the back, back roads of Oregon in my dad's VW van. He too, it is told, thought it beautiful. And it was my dad that suggested to my mother that they be married there. I have it on good authority that this is what my father would have seen at his first glimpse back in 1970:




















Just about what J. and I saw at our first glimpse!

Our reception, guest accomodations, and several preceding events are being planned at Silver Falls State Park.

This is the dining lodge, at the park, where we are having our reception:





























We are especially excited about all the potential offered by this firepit outside the dining hall:





















There is also a lot of excitement about the Old Ranch House, where we are having a Hog Roast the night before the wedding and reception. The Old Ranch House is a big, historical bunkhouse inside the park that can sleep up to 76 people. The ceiling is made out of timber, and the bunk beds are all made of solid wood. The Old Ranch is surrounded by a big meadow, which is edged by more woods.

Add in a few haybales for extra seating, the Tallboys from Seattle, some lawn games for the kids, and lots of Oregon-fresh vegetarian side dishes for those that may not want a hunk of roasted hog, and we are quite certain that there is no better place - or way - to celebrate a bit of Iowa (J's home state) in Oregon (my home state).




















The Old Ranch House also has a firepit. A big one. An indoor one.




















Another great feature of the Old Ranch House is that those doors, like an old barn, open wide.

But I suppose the greatest excitement comes from the combination of all these excitements: that after a fun and delicious Hog Roast and an evening of great old-time string music, J. and I will be enjoying late-night conversations with brothers, cousins, buddies and other assorted hooligans (that we don't get to see nearly enough!) around a roaring firepit, with the barn doors wide open.

We are so excited about spending three nights with our friends and families at Silver Falls State Park, that we took the liberty of reserving all of the cabins and lodges at the surrounding Silver Falls Conference Center for three nights. And then, testing our luck, we allocated the best cabins (that look like the picture below and have private bathrooms and showers) to Aunt Margaret, Auntie Donna, and Eli and Bernie. Not that we want to pressure these dear folks into making the trip Out West, of course. We just want to ensure that every persuasion that could be made towards that end is made. Here is a picture of their accomodations:




















In addition to these cabins, the Silver Falls Conference Center also offers several group lodges. We hope that many of our family and friends with children could be persuaded to stay here:




























And this is a picture of the telephone option at our wedding reception:




























OK. I'll admit it. I'm giddy. So giddy, in fact, I plead (in advance) you to forgive me if my next couple of posts seem Oregon-focused! But I just can't restrain myself from showing you the Old Ranch House, where we are having our night-before-the-wedding Hog Roast. Or the pictures of the lodges and cabins that we've reserved in the park for family and friends. Oh! And you certainly don't want me to restrain myself from showing pictures of all the fire pits and fire places at the lodges, cabins, ranch houses, and dining halls, around which smores will be roasted and popcorn popped....do you? Of course not!

It is fun to be so giddy.

Happy St. Paddy's Day

A Glance at Our Life

Today is the last day of the caribou season.















It is also the day that I discovered that my town has a day spa.
















Oh, all the excitement!

One celebration amongst the infinite reasons to celebrate pies

Today is ()-Day!

Such a day merits celebration.

And I can't think of a better way to celebrate than by posting one of my favorite pictures, that just happens to capture one of my favorite memories of the person (a favorite) who called me up this evening to let me know that today is Pi-Day.

This picture was taken during this person's Thansgiving visit to our hovel on stilts. It was a great visit. I believe the Fates also found it so - and that's why they gifted us with the perfect weather for a snowmachine trek, complete with one of the more beautiful tundra sunsets that I have ever been privileged to witness.


But the celebrations don't stop there.

I'd like to further celebrate Pi Day by posting one of my favorite pie-baking recipes: Dave's Crumb Topping. If you were to look on page 147 of Pie, written by Ken Haedrich, you'd find merely a quick reference to "crumb topping" for a fresh raspberry pie. But this particular crumb topping is so much more delicious than such a humble reference might indicate. This crumb topping is so delicious, in fact, that we've taken to applying it to all of our apple and cranberry pies. Indeed, all of our apple pies now bear this topping.

Let's be honest here. Such a delicious pie topping deserves more honour than a mere reference, no? Well, we certainly think so. As a first step in making sure that this crumb topping gets its merited honour, we've taken the liberty of renaming this crumb topping in honor of one of our favorite people. Coincidentally, this is the favorite person that was our house guest the first time we tried it. As an additional coincidence, this is the same person we remember each subsequent time that we've enjoyed it. And, if all that wasn't coincidence enough, this is also the same person that I described in the very first paragraphs of this post.

Oh, I do love how life so often works out to be one fun series of coincidences.

Dave's Crumb Topping
(from Pie, and enough for one pie)















1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup butter

Mr. Haedrich advocates that you use chilled butter, cut into quarter inch pieces. And then he instructs you to combine the flour, sugar, cinnamon, and salt in a food processor. Then he advises you to scatter the butter over the dry mixture and pulse the mixture until it resembles fine crumbs. Then he notes that you should put the crumbs into a large bowl and gently rub between your fingers to make large, buttery crumbs, which you would refrigerate until you are ready to scatter them over the unbaked pie.

If you can, you should probably follow his instructions. I would. But, alas, I don't. I use a "hasty" variation of Mr. Haedrich's instructions. In my hasty version, I mix up the dry ingredients in a cereal bowl. Then I dump in a stick of room-temperature butter and mix&rub the concoction with my fingers until it makes large, buttery crumbs. I usually do this right before I put the pie in the oven, and I only use my right hand. Once the crumbs are ready, and still using my right hand, I scatter them across the unbaked pie. And then, with my left (and unbuttered) hand, I open the oven and put the pie inside.

K300 Sponsors Race

Today was the Kuskokwim-300 Sponsors Race.

More to come.

With regard to other races, I find myself constantly checking the race boards for updates on the Mackey/King race to Nome. Neither of these mushers should ever be under-estimated. I can only imagine the strategizing that is going on between Unalakleet and Shaktoolik right now.

Playing in the Sun

We are well past 10 hours a day of sunlight.

We may even be past 11 hours!

J. is out with a friend, in the sunlight, looking for caribou. I believe they went out towards Kwethluk. I stayed home. I had lots of plans for the day - some reading (I'm currently reading A Team of Rivals), a little cleaning, a little blogging, maybe even some cooking! But the sun, and the balmy 35 degrees above, were all too tempting...





.... I ended up spending most of the day outside, playing with the dogs.










A neighbor and her puppy joined in the fun, and Puck found himself in a surfeit of ball-catching glee. She threw, and threw, and threw the ball for him. Sometimes she'd run around, holding the ball, giggling as Puck chased her. Then she'd throw the ball again. And again. And again.

It was, without a doubt, a slice of Puck's personal utopia.



There might have been one thing that Puck would have changed about the day. It turns out that the neighbor's puppy preferred chasing Puck, to chasing the ball. But Puck managed to tolerate the puppy's exuberant attention so long as the puppy's owner kept tossing the ball for Puck.































Clyde, who is sadly not allowed off-leash because he tends to take-off in search of discarded fish parts, alternated between watching Puck-chase-the-ball-while-the-puppy-chased-Puck and chewing on sticks. I'm sure he would have preferred running free and wolfing down the fish heads and fish skins that he always seems to find around the neighborhood, but I think he still managed to have quite a good time.

I'm fairly certain, in fact, it was a fine, fine day for everyone.

When the sun finally set, I came inside and started a cast-iron pot of Arroz con Pollo for J. to dig into when he returned. I will spare you my attempts to take a picture of this skillet of Arroz con Pollo, but not my opinion that it is quite tasty.

Arroz con Pollo
adapted from a recipe printed in The Cast-Iron Skillet Cookbook (oh, I do love this cookbook!) by Sharon Kramis, and her daughter Julie Kramis Hearne

2 tablespoons butter
1 large fryer chicken, cut-up (I used chicken pieces instead - boneless thighs and legs)
2 onions, coarsely chopped
2 green peppers, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 carrot, diced
1 celery, diced
1 cup white wine
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can whole tomatoes
3 cups chicken stock
1 tsp paprika
Pinch of saffron
Bay leaf
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 cups uncooked long-grain white rice
Juice of 1 lemon (I keep forgetting this, so it probably optional)

Melt the butter, and cook the chicken until lightly browned on all sides. Transfer the chicken to a plate. Add the onions, garlic, carrots, celery, and peppers. (I tend to add things as I finish chopping them up, and so this is also the order that I chop.) Cook this for about 10 minutes, stirring occassionally. Add the wine and deglaze. Stir in the chicken stock, tomatoes, paprika, saffron, bay leaf, salt and pepper, and cook for 5 minutes. Stir in the rice. Add the chicken back to the pan, submerging it as much as possible. Bring to a simmer. The recipe calls for cooking it slowly over a low- to medium-heat fire, for approximately 45 minutes. (I plopped on the cast-iron lid and put it into the oven at 300 degrees, for the length of a dvd. The recipe also calls for occassionally turning gently and turning the pot to move the rice, but not stirring it. I sort of did that.) Season to taste with additional salt, pepper, and lemon juice and serve. (As I mentioned above, I completely forgot the lemon - a shame, as I had actually made a trip to the A.C. specifically to buy a lemon for this purpose. And, instead of serving it right away, I kept it in a very low oven until I went to bed. And then, just before going to bed, I placed it on the table, together with a plate, silverware and a note to J. to stick it in our extra fridge - i.e. our arctic entry - after he is finished eating.)

p.s. I'm serious about Clyde and his fish-finding prowess. The other day, that canine hooligan managed to dig a fish skin out of a snow bank. I don't know how he does it. One moment he was walking along beside me, the next moment he was halfway finished ploughing through a huge snow bank to unearth a hidden fish skin. But he does it, and so quickly, and smoothly, that I can only conclude that Clyde keeps a mental inventory of every discarded fish piece within a 500 foot radius and, at any given moment on any given walk, is ready to take advantage of any given distraction by the person holding the leash to dive in and eat it.

Glance at the Life: the Neighborhood

Here is an example of why I must try to carry my camera more often whilst walking the dogs:

Glance at Our Life: the Front Yard

This boat was in our front yard before we moved in.

But it used to be in one piece. Right before this year's freeze-up, someone brought over a trailer and tried to move it. It broke in half. The two pieces were left, as is, where fallen.

I wonder what will happen to them after break-up.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Happy Birthday to my mom!

We had hoped to be able to celebrate your birthday with some tundra adventures! Hopefully we'll be able to persuade you to come up for another winter event.

In the meantime, here's a picture I snapped, in Iowa, after you took my dare that you wouldn't offer to help the kitchen make our late-night and starving order of a round of tenderloins! For a lady who doesn't believe in frying foods, dear Mother, you sure make a fine Iowa Tenderloin sandwich!

Happy Valentine's Day

What a fantastic, fanta'bulous, fun day at the local post-office:

J. came home with a box of gifts, all the way from a dear mother in Iowa! Oh, how we loved all the treasures that we unwrapped! All of them! Thank you!























We also exchanged gifts between ourselves. After so generously permitting me priority-use of his XtraTuf mud boots over the last three years, J. bought me my own pair of wellies.

I love them! I feel so stylin'! and prepared!





For the first time since I moved to Alaska, I'm actually prepared for break-up!

Glance at Our Lives: the Satellites

For those who may have thought that all those references to satellites was a family trait-inclined exaggeration........















These satellite-receivers provide our link to our long-distance telephone and internet service. I took this picture while on a snowmachine trek to the A.C. to buy Tillamook butter. Someday I'll take the necessary moments to introspect my way into an understanding of why riding a snowmachine on a simple errand makes me just so darn happy.

Glance at Our Life: Public Art

There is something incredibly beautiful, up here, about the interaction of nature and man-made detritus.

I don't quite know how to describe it. The juxtaposition of the temporary convenience of the man-made things, as highlighted by the stable and permanent context of nature. The discarded value of the man-made thing, as highlighted by the perpetually renewed value of nature. The chaos of the man-made versus the humble significance of the environment into which it is installed.......

Oh, help me here! Waxing poetic will not get me to the description of the beauty I'm trying to describe.

I suppose words themselves can't provide sufficient description. I should post examples, such as these examples of the electrical lines that keep our neighborhood in electrical heat and operating lightbulbs.

(Forgive me for the quality of the photos. I have not yet mastered the secret to flash-less photography, and it is hard to focus on taking pictures when I'm juggling our two canine hooligans.)

For the best photographic examples of this slice of Alaskan beauty, I highly recommend perusing Genevieve's pictures of their adventures in and around Unalaska. Especially this one, which shows a prime example of "industrial remnants set against dramatic backdrops." (Yes! Now there's an excellent description.) She posts pictures of of WWII bunkers, and mountains of fish nets, and public displays of shipping containers. And the pictures of little Paxson are, without a doubt, too cute for my skills in descriptions.

Pictures of Dee's Visit

I'd like to resume the photographic tale of Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike's visit to the Kuskokwim-300. I will spare you the details of the reasons for my delay. I won't even go into the topics of procrastination or distraction. I won't talk about the corncakes I made to heat the hovel when our heat went off and it was cold, and windy, and 60 Below. Or about the piece of art that one particular fur hat sewing district attorney gifted to me….indeed, I won't even talk about how he sewed a fur hat out of green astro-turf. (Though I will – soon – and in the meantime shall pause, for just a second, to again ask you to join me in persuading Tom to start a blog of his own.) I shall even restrain from talking about my favorite fried egg sandwich in town.

I'm going to save all that for later.

Here – and now – I shall, finally, resume the photographic tale of a visit of two very fun folks, the memory of which still has me glowing from the combination of good people, good times, and smoked fish.

So, here we go……

When we left off, the ever-adventurous Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike had learned their snowmaching skills on Mission Lake and then demonstrated their snowmaching prowess on a trip down the Kuskokwim River. After going through a few sloughs, and past a few wintered-up fish camps, we returned to town, crossed Mission Lake, sped through Alligator Acres, and popped over to Pat's to meet Hugh Neff's dog team.......













After playing with the dogs, Mike got to work and helped Hugh to swap out the "regular" runners on his sled for a pair of "race" runners. (Do keep in mind that only a few hours before, Mike got to work and helped a pizza delivery guy that knocked on my door to pull his car out of the ditch in front of my neighbors house.)



If ever there is a musher that is generous with his time and enthusiasm for dog mushing, it is Hugh Neff. I really am grateful to him for taking time out of his day-of-the-race morning to talk with my visiting family about dog-mushing and to let us play with his team!



Be sure to look for him in the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod. He's good people!

Eventually, we had to leave to start our official race-day volunteer duties. Our next race-related endeavour took us to the neighborhood called Kasayuli. This time we drove - I drove. Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike were too polite to express any fear at the prospect, and I am very happy to say that we arrived safely....and early! Oh, that Cousin D - she has always been such a good influence on me! In any event, we were on truck support duty, assigned to help musher Jim Lanier get his sled to the start line. Our pick-up is not equipped to transport dogs, and so we were there - literally - to transport the sled. Alas, there was some confusion and a dash of chaos with the folks that were assigned to transport the dogs. Eventually, fortunately, a plan was hatched. Bethel-style - meaning we made it happen with the resources we had. Here is the team getting the bulk of the team loaded up into a pick-up equipped for transporting dog teams.





The other dogs rode inside our pick-ups. One rode in the cab of my pick-up (while Mike rode in the bed of the pick-up, making sure that the sled and gear did not fall out - oh! he's a good man!), two dogs rode in the bed of my friend's (with his wife and my cousin Deirdre, each holding onto a dog), and a few rode inside the jeep of Jim Lanier's host family. But they all arrived! A little later than we had planned, but well before the last musher arrived. Without any delay, Jim Lanier got his sled set up and started the process of moving the dogs from the pick-ups to their harnesses.



And then, amidst an excitement that I may never be describe though I hope never to forget, we lined up and helped Jim Lanier get his team to the starting chute. Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike jumped in and helped, even though I'm fairly certain that they hadn't ever handled a team inside the starting chute of a world-famous dogsledding race amidst an eager and excited crowd. They were incredible.



(For the record - I wasn't the only one that thought so. Indeed, the very next morning after the race start, we stopped by the Saturday market at the Cultural Center and Cousin Deirdre discovered that there was an entire crafts table devoted to pictures of Deirdre and Mike at the starting line....pictures, postcards, greeting cards, magnets, photo albums, etc.!)



One Mr. Lanier's team was off, we were free to watch the rest of the teams make their way through the chute. Here's few pictures of the crowd. They don't do justice to the scene, but I suppose they make a good introduction.



And once the last team was through, we wandered over to the Hovercraft to partake of the free hotdogs and hot chocolate being offered to the community. Alas, they had run out of everything! And so we settled for a picture.

(Why - yes! This is the very same Hovercraft that carried us to the village of Akiak where Josh proposed to me last April!)



The night continued with fireworks. And I introduced that poor duo to more people than they could possibly have dreamed they'd meet in such a short amount of time. And then I had to enlist their assistance in moving a stack of frozen lasagnas from one pick-up to my pick-up. And then, exhausted, we came home. And slept. Hard.

The next day, though, the adventure continued...........

The Akiak Dash !















As I near the end of this post, I must make a confession: this summary of Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike's visit is abbreviated. I am purposefully reigning myself in, lest I unleash the verbosity and gush about how much it meant to me that my cousin would travel so far, in winter, to visit us. In my determination to post something, I am not posting nearly enough to properly describe how fortunate I find myself to have a cousin that is also such a dear friend. But, like I said, I'm abbreviating here. Condensing all these days and adventures, and moments of gratitude, into one blog post.

But even with this quest for brevity, I would be remiss if I failed to make a few references to a legacy of cousinly rivalry.....more specifically, to a match of Scrabble and to a certain card game called Spit - actually, to a tournament of Spit that is well over a decade old!

Dear Dee - I do look forward to being 70 years old and still competing for the Ultimate Spit Championship!