Something new

You don't have to live in a place like Kodiak to start to feel like you're trapped or stuck in a rut. However, I think it might be a little harder to get out of that rut in places like Kodiak.

I think it's important, when one is feeling that way, to do something new. The "something new" for us these last couple of weeks was trying some new hikes.

On the first, a six-mile hike up Kashevaroff Mountain, I didn't take many pictures. It was nearby Heitman Mountain and thus had similar views to what we saw on our hike to Heitman Lake last year. 

Today we did a much shorter and easier hike, a 1.8 mile loop (we love loops!) to Jack and Lee Lakes. It was a lovely hike along very well-maintained trails (which were also well-used by four-wheelers).

The trail was even wide enough for vehicles. This SUV, abandoned near Sargent Creek, has apparently spent years as a target for shooting and as an empty beer bottle receptacle. 

We think these people abandoned their car after it got hopelessly stuck in this mud.

Same with these shoes, I  guess.

Jack Lake...or is it Lee Lake? Now I've got them mixed up...

This is the other lake, whatever its name is. The fireweed was in full bloom and added to the splendor of the scenery.

Parents/Grandparents

Today my parents left after spending two weeks here with us. Kodiak was very kind to them, providing much more sun and warmth than usual. The combination of sunshine and guests to show off our island to has helped T and me to finally feel like it's summer.

It's been years since we've had a grill, and we were looking forward to "grilling weather" for months.

I took this picture at the beginning of a hike that we didn't end up taking--the trail was too overtaken by brush.

But my parents' presence and departure also brought on a bought of reflection and introspection. Their visit brought into sharper focus for me both the things I love and the things I don't love (I won't say "hate") about Kodiak. 

My blog has largely been dedicated to the best of Kodiak--the sunny days, the breathtaking scenery, the wildlife, the unique culture. I try not to dwell on the less positive (and, I think, less interesting) aspects of living here. However, what's on my mind right now is the impact that living in such a place has on relationships. 

Many people come to Kodiak with a strong but temporary desire

for the unique experiences that living here offers. I have lived here fewer than three years and have already watched several friends move away. Particularly as an introvert, I find the prospect of continuing to face such losses to be rather painful. The family members we live "close" to--T's parents--are not as easy to visit as I had hoped. Most of our friends and family members are too far to visit with any degree of regularity. My awareness of this was much more acute with my parents here, especially as I watched them interact with Rainbow, who immediately and intuitively treated them as family.

When my parents got on the ferry this evening, I cried in no small part because the cost and distance and time that would soon stand between me and them felt overwhelming. I do not like parting with loved ones when I do not know when (or, I'm sorry to say, if) I will see them again. This will continue to happen over and over again for as long as I live here or anywhere similar. 

When I jump down this rabbit hole of introspection, I wonder why I don't just move "home." But it's not that simple anymore. Where is home? Nebraska, where my parents live? That would put us thousands of miles away from T's parents and his sister. And unless we move to New Zealand, we'll always be far away from T's brother. And what about my friends, flung across the continent and world? 

I can't bring all the people I love to one place, so is it really so bad to just live in a place that I love, regardless of its distance from all of them?

Shuyak Island

Kodiak Island, on which the town of Kodiak is located, is only one of many islands in the Kodiak Archipelago. This large collection of islands is about as big as Connecticut. In addition to Kodiak city, the archipelago has six villages. All but one are located on Kodiak island, and all six are off the road system. 

Most of the archipelago is uninhabited by humans and untouched by marks of civilization such as roads, electricity, and cell phone reception. This includes Shuyak Island, located at the northern end of the Kodiak Archipelago. Most of the island's wilderness is part of Shuyak Island State Park, which T, Rainbow, my parents, and I visited this week. 

So how did we get to such a place? Well, we chartered a six-seater float plane to take us there. Both on the way out to Shuyak Island and on the way back, we flew low enough over the land and ocean that I could see individual seagulls flying over the water. 

It's a strange feeling watching an airplane fly away after dropping you off on a remote island. 

We stayed in Deer Haven, a rustic State Park cabin located about 100 feet from a calm rocky beach on Carry Inlet. We were the first guests of the season and had to do a bit of housekeeping to get the dusty cabin inhabitable for our three-night stay. 

Amenities on the premises included an outhouse (with a door that had rotted off its hinges); an outbuilding equipped with a hanging bucket that could, at least in theory, be filled with hot water for a shower; a stocked wood shed; a metal sink connected to a bucket outside the cabin that could be filled with water; a wood burning stove; and two sets of bunk beds consisting of thin, dusty foam pads glued to wooden boards. The cabin's fresh water supply had been mostly cut off by the local beavers, so we were glad T had thought to bring 10 gallons of drinking water with us.

I suppose we would have been surprised if we HADN'T seen deer from our cabin, given its name.

This picture doesn't do justice to the golden evening light. 

Somehow, miraculously, we had four warm, spectacularly sunny days and spent most of our time on the beach near our cabin. We gathered sand dollars and looked for crabs and jelly fish in the clear water of the inlet. We made a fire on the beach each evening. We cooked our suppers on the open fire and roasted marshmallows while we watched fish jump and listened to Canada geese, oyster catchers, and loons call to each other. 

Marshmallows!

We went for walks in the woods and saw lots of signs of bears but, luckily, never came across one. It wasn't quite the right season for fishing in that area, but my dad still gave it a try for the first time in his life. 

All in all, the trip was everything a vacation should be. T and I were delighted to get to see the more "wild" side of Kodiak and to share that with someone else. 

On the beach with all of our wilderness gear, waiting for the plane to pick us up

Another year, another Crabfest

Here in Kodiak, the last day of school marks the start of Crabfest. This local event has been known to disappoint folks from big cities expecting something a little more, um, big, but this year everyone was excited about Crabfest. The reason was simple: the weather. We had a streak of exceptionally warm, sunny weather that had the whole town grinning from ear to ear all weekend. 


The weather made it easy to stay out all day Saturday, starting with the morning parade (Iris got to march--with me, of course--as a "Shrimper").

Interesting piece of trivia: These friends will (sadly) soon be moving to the New Orleans area and will live very close to where we lived in Metairie, Louisiana over a decade ago.

Rainbow once again rode a horse and enjoyed it with serious intensity.

We also discovered that Rainbow absolutely loves king crab. She ate about $20 worth of it over the weekend.

That's her "rock star" face. She makes it when shes happy or excited.

After looking at booths, eating crab, and having a (short-lived) adventure in the bounce house, our first day of Crabfest ended with a toddler passing out on her mama's back. She woke up from that nap muttering, "Where we going?" I loved her presumptuous question, the idea that there was certainly somewhere interesting to go, and her readiness to go there. It's summer. I want to have that openness and readiness, too. Let's get going, summer. Kodiak, here we come!

Easter

Since my daughter has turned two, I have felt more pressure (coming only from myself, mind you) to do more traditional activities during holidays. This presented a bit of a challenge at Easter time, since Rainbow's food allergies essentially prevent her from eating eggs or candy (other than the expensive "allergy-free" sweets you can get at health food stores). This did not deter us from going on not one, not two, but three Easter egg hunts and from dying eggs (I can't eat them, either, so she didn't feel quite as left out as she would have otherwise). 

Sunshine? No coats? Yes, Saturday's weather was that awesome.

The city-wide egg hunt at Baranov Park (within walking distance of our house) featured 5,000 eggs. Even timid kids like Rainbow actually stood a chance of getting a few eggs.

Unfortunately, all of the eggs had chocolates in them which Rainbow couldn't eat, but she didn't even seem to mind giving  them all away to other children. 

Our eggs didn't turn out very bright because  we used organic, cage-free brown eggs (yes, we are those kind of people), but Rainbow still had a lot of fun coloring them.

Easter Sunday's weather was more typical of Kodiak and of what I expect Easter's weather to be like--cold and wet. 

Almost every egg hidden in our yard was covered with slugs. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Rainbow to pick them up at all. 

After hunting for eggs in our own yard, we went to another egg hunt at a friend's house. We didn't have an Easter ham or any of the other traditional foods, but we had a fun day anyway!

A sunny day and a snowy day

I keep hearing people who have lived in Kodiak longer than I have saying that this has been a difficult winter with an abnormal amount of rain and even less sun than usual. So last month when we had a "warm," sunny day one weekend and a snowy day the next, both were unusual, and we got out and enjoyed the weather as much as possible.

We had a picnic at the end of the road at Chiniak. It only takes a little over an hour to drive out there (well, longer if you have a recently potty-trained toddler who is obsessed with peeing outside).

There are always wonders to be found on the beach.

It may surprise you to know that Kodiak gets very little snow. March 20 was our first real snow of the winter--and our very first opportunity to take Rainbow sledding. She loved it!  

It was a good thing we went sledding in the morning, because even by noon much of the snow had melted. That's very typical for Kodiak.