A Day in the Rockies

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AISES, Alaska, bar, beer, Below My Feet, Boulder, brewery, Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Colorado, Colorado School of Mines, Coors, Dean Brody, Denver, friends, growler, Gypsy Girl, hiking, Hopeless Wanderer, indian, indigenous cultures, inspiration, life, lyrics, memories, Mesa, mountains, Mumford & Sons, National Conference, Native American, Ohio, porter, reservations, Rockies, Rocky Mountains, solo, songs, South Table Top Mountain, Taylor Swift, travel, treacherous, world travel

And now for a lot of photos and Instagrams.

Today was a day of hiking.  It began a little later than I had hoped because we were up so late the night before, but Jacob did indeed meet us at Claire’s apartment and we headed for South Table Top Mountain and the mesa.  It’s hard to remember we are in the desert until you feel the intense dryness of the air.  But it was in the mid 70s!

Claire and Jacob ascended the side.

Green lichen?

Me and Jacob.

The three of us.

Pensive Claire.

Being artsy…

Jacob looks like heaven is shining on him.

A long way done for a short climb.

I did this at the Grand Canyon too…

Rattlesnake!

We encountered a mad snake on the way down, his rattle shaking.  Some hikers were trying to prod him off the trail with a stick.  Let it be, folks!  He just wants his peace.  We had to warn oncoming families with children and dogs.

Driving back to Claire’s for some of my porter, we saw this scraggly fox dodging about.  Animal Control searched for him later but didn’t find him.

We were on that!

Next, my friend James hit me up to tell me he was done visiting his family and could come over until he had to leave for his flight.  He lives in Cleveland (we went to school together, the same place where Claire went before she got a job in Cleveland and subsequently moved west a year later), but he’s been working in Canada lately.  He flies every week and decided to come home this weekend.  I was very glad he came out to see us!  He caught up with the three of us while we were eating lunch at a Thai place in Golden.

Us after lunch in Golden.

Jacob said goodbye and headed back towards Denver to run some errands before making his 4 hour drive home.  Claire went back to school.  I jumped in James’ car and we headed north a short trip to Boulder.  He says he used to go there often during high school, but the times had changed and things already seemed different.  He was still a great expert to have.

People walking around the busy strip.

We walked up and down a couple of times on the main stretch before deciding beer over coffee.  We tried a place that seemed unfamiliar to James and sat outside with a local brew and some nachos.  We met some nice people lined up around us on a side-walk facing bar table.  We couldn’t stay too long because our time was running out.  The air started cooling off suddenly and I wondered if it was going to spontaneously snow.  We headed out before we could know.

Me and James about to leave Boulder for Golden.

James dropped me off at the Colorado School of Mines where Claire told me she needed to still work and gave me her car keys.  I took off for Lookout Mountain.

You could see the snow on the mountains in the distance.

This same mountain top boasts Buffalo Bill’s grave.

I decided to head towards the snow and turned around at the top of a mountain beyond Idaho Springs.  It was dark and snowy and the stars were out.  “Treacherous” (Taylor Swift) began to play on my iPhone.  It was so appropriate – the same song I played last year while driving through the dark and snow in Alaska.

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night
And I will get you a-, get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind and I just
Think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will
Follow you, follow you home
I’ll follow you, follow you home

And who would’ve thought that song still makes me think of the same guy a whole year later?  Well,… no need to go into that.

My summer song had become Gypsy Girl by Dean Brody after I felt just like a wandering, lost girl with tired feet.  This site name does, after all, mean “tired feet” in French – and there’s a reason for it!

But this trip, if I had to pick my theme song from this trip… I definitely think Mumford & Sons is the most appropriate.  And, although I have become a “Hopeless Wanderer”, the song that really shook me this trip while standing on the top of the world in the mountains was “Below My Feet”:

Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn

What could be more appropriate?  No classroom is better suited for learning than the outdoors, than the world.  Look at all these things I have seen this summer and continue to see.  And here I am, coming full-circle a year later, having witnessed the same struggles the people on the reservations face which exist in even the most remote corners of India.  Like I said last year (in ‘Defining “Native America”‘) on my final night with my friends in Alaska, We are all so different and yet…exactly the same.

My flight is too early in the morning for Claire to take me.  I hired a shuttle to get me at 3:30am, then we spent the evening finishing off my growler and watching YouTube videos and discussing Indian policies, the world, the folly of mankind…

I’m going to miss you, friend.

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Day 3: AISES National Conference 2013

Tags

AISES, AISESNC, Alaskan, big blue bear, Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Colorado, Colorado Convention Center, Denver, Hawai'ian, hiking, indian, Mexican, NASA, National Conference, Native American, Ohio, Potawatomi, powwow, regalia, Shawnee, solo, student, travel

 

The final official day of the conference and I am back to volunteering even more than for what I had signed up.  During a break from running forms to sessions and other small tasks, I went shopping for jewelry at the stands.

I had almost forgotten that my new apartment has the perfect ledge for a pot and that I had decided to look for one at conference.  Last year, I bought a painting from an old Alaskan artist.  This year, when I saw pottery on sale, I suddenly remembered what I had wanted to buy and knew I needed to get one.  It was over $200, but I chose this little pot by Cynthia Yazzie.  For a little extra money, she had it shipped back home for me.  Cynthia grew up on a reservation and was dirt poor her whole life.  Her pottery has so much symbolism, I didn’t regret buying it for a second.

Later I attended some sessions regarding the conditions of the reservations and engineering data collection – all things pertinent to my field of interest.  I’m currently working with some professors and global leaders on a model for creating self-sustainable reservations, so I took this time to network with some people.  I made some new connections besides the speakers, such as my new friends Thomas of New York and Rae of Oregon who have similar passions.

I spent quite a bit of time helping the others set up for the Traditional Banquet.  The conference didn’t seem nearly so long this year.  I had so much fun last time and, thinking of how time flies, this surprised me.  Maybe I was just so busy bouncing between events; last year I was so focused on my research and not having many people I knew kept me searching.

The centerpieces were maize kernels with fake candles.  We couldn’t have real flames, so we had batter candles that were still made of wax.  They were French Vanilla too, which is apparently cheaper than non-scented.  I joked that the candles might make popcorn.

Me with a bunch of the volunteers.

The big blue bear outside of the convention center.

I later decided to walk around to kill off an hour or so before the banquet.  I got to see more of downtown Denver, smell pot on the streets, and try a new brewery.

Then it was time to arrive at the banquet.  I actually had several invitations to sit with people – the perks of being alone – but I could only accept one.  I took my first offer, with Frazer and his Alaskan friends.

Me and Frazer at the banquet.

The meals are always traditional.  It was National Bison Day and they were serving bison.  I had the vegetarian version.

I had to run back and grab Claire because she attended the Powwow after dinner, so she sat to see the end of Closing Ceremony, meet friends, and snack on leftovers.  After, we went upstairs for the powwow.

I was supposed to volunteer – my only signed-up-for event of they day – but no one was needed.  Instead, I got to enjoy my time and introduce friends from different circles – one of my favorite things ever!

Claire, me, and our friend Joe from Cleveland.

Traditional Regalia from the Men’s Traditional Dance.

A family reunion!  Tylynn (Hawai’ian), a new friend Lorraine (Hawai’ian), Isaiah (Hawai’ian), me (Potawatomi/Shawnee), Frazer (Alaskan), and Carlos (Mexican).  Natives unite!

The men’s trad dance is my fave.

Me in the hall where the powwow was held.

After the powwow, I joined Claire, Frazer, Joe, my friend Jacob, and a new face from Washington up on the top floor of the Hyatt for some drinks.  The police were yet again swarming our space and I began on edge.  (Why everywhere the AISES kids go?)  Thomas was also in the lounge.  It was too dark to see Denver clearly under the bright lights of the buildings.

Neat artwork in the hotel lobby.

It was a good night but I was sad to leave my friends.  Yet another good year, although nothing can top Alaska.  AISES is always a source of inspiration and happiness.

Jacob took my number and says he can go hiking with me and Claire tomorrow.  We’ll see if he keeps his promise!

 

Day 2: AISES National Conference 2013

Tags

AISES, Alaskan, alcohol, Anchorage, Colorado, Colorado Convention Center, Denver, Hawai'ian, hotel, indian, Indian Country, lake, Mexican, minority, National Conference, Native American, Orlando, solo, stereotype, student, travel

Second day of AISES.  Today is the poster presentations for the students, and I was only there a short year ago.

The archway announcing next year’s NC in Orlando, like last year’s archway in Anchorage announced Denver.

I started the morning by volunteering at the posters, anxious to meet up with my friends Tylynn and Isaiah from Hawai’i.  I hadn’t since them since we were in Anchorage.  Unfortunately, my help was not needed at the posters.  I ended up greeting people and checking tags at the front of the Career Fair nearby.  I finally got a chance to walk around and say hi to Tylynn, but she had a lot of people interested in her poster so I couldn’t stay long.

The view of downtown Denver from where I stood at the gate to the Career Fair, Floor 2.

A panoramic shot of the career fair, the biggest in Indian Country.

Me wearing the traditional necklace with wampum and family jewels my family gave me as a graduation gift.  It was made by General B. Grant and his wife Ute of the Cherokee tribe in NC.

After I was done volunteering for the day, I offered to give a fellow volunteer, Lee, a ride to his car and then continued north to meet my friends in Fort Collins.  We went to Stumpy’s Cider Bar.  I got to see my friend Amanda for the first time in who knows how many years.  We’ve known each other since we were 6 and we used to play “twins”.  Our moms still see each other every once in awhile, but Amanda has since moved to Colorado for school and now her career.  I met her friend Kyle and the three of us spent a few hours together.  After the cider bar, we drove to the O’Dell Brewery.

Some cool stuff going on on the way to O’Dell’s.

The counter in O’Dell’s.

I awkwardly took this photo in front of the cashier – but it was cool!

Me and Amanda in O’Dell’s.

Don’t mind if I do.

A growler of Cutthroat Porter that I later shared with friends after hiking.

My friend Claire was going with a friend to a Halloween party in Denver.  Sadly, I couldn’t make it because of the Social which I told her I just could not miss.  It was such a blast last year!  So I had to drive back to Golden to pick up Claire’s apartment key.  She gave me a local brew, Coors, and said she wishes the brewery were open Sunday so we could get three free beers each on a tour.

We then decided to make an elaborate dinner based on what was in the fridge.  And by elaborate, I really mean I sauteed some mushrooms, she mashed some potatoes, and we tossed baby spinach in dressing, baby spinach that was in fact enormous.

We have an odd tendency to make strange faces when we pose with, well, anything.

Before long, it was time for Claire to dress up and her friend to meet up with them to take them away to the party.  I hung around for a bit, Instagramming and relaxing with tea before heading back into downtown Denver.

Claire and her friend dressed up for the party.

I parked in town and ran into the convention center, not long after the dance started.  My Menominee friends were pouring out already.  They said it was not that fun and that they were going to a jazz bar, Appaloosa.  I wanted to join them, but I needed to find my Hawai’ian friends.  They were the life of the party last time!  But I’m so glad I did stick around to find them.  I finally found Tylynn and met up with Isaiah, Carlos, and even Frazer, all familiar faces from my Anchorage trip last year.  We may hardly see each other, but they are seriously like my family to me now.  I just feel so safe and happy with them.  Maybe that’s just what AISES does to you.

Open floor!  It was very dark, but here’s a shot of some students showing off their skills!

Something about AISES just feels so nonjudgemental.  You can just be yourself, and every one is so interesting!  Not only do I actually dance (which I normally hate to do), but I come out of each Social absolutely panting.  I’m also amazed to see Chair members out there dancing right along with us, being just as crazy.  In fact, I remember at one point that song that tells you what to do saying “Do the Charlie Brown!” and the Board Chair Mary Jo shouted, “What?!  What does that mean?” — but I didn’t know either!!

When the dance slowly started winding down (and, let me tell you, with the numbers we had last year, that didn’t happen until its midnight close and later), my friends decided to mosey on out.  We headed across the street to their hotel (the Hyatt) and sat up in one of their rooms, sipping on Coke, apple juice, and maybe a little bit of rum.  It was so nice to see the same old faces, mixed with new, from all over this country.  I finally had some good chatting with Frazer, a native Alaskan who drove some of us up to that frozen lake in Alaska last year.  He’s a good dancer and he has incredible manners.

Isaiah turned on his music to let us relax while some of the girls dressed up for the club they were proposing to visit.  I sat and chatted, rocking my jeans and boots.  I only brought one dress and am saving it for the Traditional Banquet.  Before long, there was a knock at our door.  A familiar knock, like the ones we had our last night in Anchorage when we were crazy loud but the hotel only partially seemed to care.  This night, it was a harsh knock about two songs deep from the hotel manager.  “We’ve had noise complaints…” Isn’t that how it always goes?  But really?  I was shocked by the calm dispositions of my friends.  They merely accepted the state of their accusation and apologized.  Isaiah turned down his music.  We started whispering, except for a couple of us who periodically forgot ourselves.

As the plans drew together and more students began arriving to the room, the noise level raised ever so slightly.  We tucked our rum bottle away just in time.  The door knocked again and Frazer made his way to the door.  Isaiah was completely sober and suggested that he answer it, but it was too late.  “It’s just the hotel manager again,” was the information until the door was opened and several cops stepped in from the sides.  Oh…

“Guys, yet another complaint….and how many people are in here?  Are you guys actually staying here?”

“Yes, we’re just from different rooms.  We were about to leave.  Sorry if we were loud, we really were just meeting to head out.”

“Are you drinking in here?  Are you all 21?”

“Yes, we are, but we were really just leaving to go somewhere else.  Sorry for the inconvenience.”

I became extremely skeptical of these cops.  Were we being targeted?  Why?  Someone then mentioned that an AISES member was throwing up in the elevator not long before.  I began to worry, for several reasons.  One, who was that ill from AISES?  Are they okay?  I heard they were not a student, which concerned me further.  Alcohol is a bit of a taboo in AISES and native culture in general, just because it is associated with a lot of pain and trouble.  But then I wondered, is AISES being targeted?  My mind wanted to quickly accuse the white hotel staff of targeting Indians as alcoholics…but maybe I was being obnoxious.  How could they know we were a part of AISES?  Or could they?  Based off of reservations and appearance?  I should hope not.  And in my defense of my group, I also feared if we were perpetuating a stereotype — and also angered by the reality that no Indian can enjoy his or herself reasonably and within the typical standards of drinking without an outsider labeling him or her as an alcoholic.  Imagine it and you might see, too, how easy that stereotype could transpose itself.

We all went down to wait in the lobby.  At this point, I was just waiting on a text from Claire saying she was leaving Boulder.  I’d have to leave immediately for Golden when she texts me.  I told my friends I might head to Appaloosa where Josh was alone, but just as I decided that I got the text from Claire and had to head out.  The cops were still stalking our shadows and I hugged my beloved friends and made my way out the door.  I got back to find Claire following me shortly thereafter, exasperated by the results of the party.  Hearing her stories, it’s hard to remember that marijuana is legal in this state.  It’s a weird sensation.  We chatted a bit, then went to bed.  I have an early morning tomorrow.

Day 1: AISES National Conference 2013

Tags

AISES, Boulder, conference, Denver, drive, explore, indian, learn, national, National Conference, Native American, solo, travel, understand, venture

The morning started early.  I drove east from Golden towards downtown Denver and only somewhat beat the traffic into the city.  I parked nearby and went to the Colorado Convention Center, grab breakfast, and show up to help volunteer at Opening Ceremony.  The ceremony was just a series of speeches and I found myself soon done and free to go.

Convention center.

Crowd and Colorado flag flying.

 

My ID.

In the afternoon, I ran out of things I wanted to attend.  I ended up dropping a fellow volunteer off at another location and then driving north to Standley Lake.  I have a friend who says he got stuck off-roading here once…And, well, let’s just say I didn’t.   I stayed in the parking lot, tyvm.

The calm drive.

Prairie Dog holes!

Tributary.

Beach.

Near some tracks.

After walking around for a bit, I decided to have dinner at the original Chipotle!  Boy, is it tiny.  There wasn’t even a place to make an order, just to pay.  And there were a handful of chairs, at least in comparison to what there normally is.

Original Chipotle in Denver.

I had dinner at the original Chipotle, as tiny as it is.  I then went into town and searched for things to do in between the sessions.

 

Walking by the mall on 16th.

I decided to stroll around downtown a bit.

In Boeing’s room, during the Hospitality Suites.

I met up with two Menominee friends and one Iroquois friend to see the different rooms set up for the hospitality suites.  There were a lot of hors d’oeuvres.

Awkward….at Wyncoop downtown.

We went to a brewery called Wyncoop after.  It was far and my friends hired a bike man.

The golf cart we rode back for a tip.

When we went to leave, we called the golf cart again and took off for downtown.

Oh, Halloween…and the second year that I spent it with my Menominee friends.

Home with Claire…having short bread and tea!  Yumm….I was so tired, but ready to get up early yet again to volunteer!

 

Denver, Cheyenne, and a Taste of Nebraska

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airport, AISES, Alaska, Anchorage, Bahamas, buffalo, Bushnell, Case Western Reserve University, Cheyenne, Cleveland, Colorado, Colorado School of Mines, cows, Denver, Devil's Tower, Freedom's Edge, Golden, Heather Spruce, hockey, Jackson Hole, message in a bottle, microbrewery, mountains, Native American, Nebraska, Ohio, plains, rental, rock climbing, Sarah Palin, solo, student, travel, truck, tumbleweed, Wyoming

It is that time of the year again!  This date officially marks the one year anniversary of my travel blog!  In 2012 at this time, AISES National Conference was held in Anchorage, Alaska.  It was my first attendance to an AISES event ever and I competed. I wrote about my time in Alaska on this blog, from my days hiking on the glacier, to delivering research presentations, and even including my adventures north to find the Northern Lights after spending an afternoon with Sarah Palin’s sister, Heather Spruce.

My truck.

A stop at Carter Lake on the way through Fort Collins.

Carter Lake.

The countryside.

This year, the Conference is in Denver, Colorado.  As with Anchorage, it has been here before.  The ceremonies open in the morning and so I have flown out for early registration and to explore the area a bit.  I flew in to Denver International Airport and took a shuttle to Enterprise to rent a pick-up truck.  I was anxious to see some areas I’d never seen before (namely in Wyoming), but I made a quick detour for lunch in downtown Denver with a friend, Jeremy, whom I met in a very…unique situation.

Back in March, I was with my friend Andrea on San Salvador island looking for her shoes on the beach when I found a wine bottle with a piece of paper stuffed in it.  I smashed the bottle to find a note from a kid who was at the GRC base not long before we were.  He and I were both on the island for programs, both from the same region of Pennsylvania, and both going to school in Ohio.  I wrote back to him although my mom forgot to mail the letter until I was already abroad for my summer trips.  Jeremy replied via e-mail and we began chatting and added each other on Facebook.  Jeremy saw that I was going to be in Denver this month and so was he, attending the conference that was ending at the Colorado Convention Center the same time mine was about to begin.  Thus, we met for lunch.

I found a place called Paris on Platte that had a music venue side as well as a cafe side.  There was a wide variety of healthy, vegan, and ordinary foods, as well as coffees, alcoholic drinks, and desserts.  We chatted for some good time before I was ready to venture north.  I dropped him back off at his sessions and headed north out of the city, passing through Fort Collins and eventually coming to the Wyoming border.  The speed limit of 75 was definitely in my favor although the winds were strong.  I took selfies at the Wyoming state line sign and finally crossed into a state I had been longing to see for years, my self-declared favorite state ever.

Me at the Colorado-Wyoming border.

Cheyenne capital building.

Coming into Nebraska from the west.

Me and some silly cows that were eating and tripping over tumbleweed.

The train tracks running by Bushnell, Nebraska.

I just love the mountains and yet the solitude.  Although I began to fall in love with Colorado more than ever, I couldn’t deny that I still felt very comfortable in Wyoming.  I had wanted to go to Devil’s Tower and Jackson Hole, but I kept my driving as limited as my time and instead ventured around Cheyenne a little.  What a small town!  I decided to head east into Nebraska, never having seen the western part of the plains states before.  I was shocked by how barren the space really was, even on this side of the Plains, and I photographed the paved roads that quickly turned to dirt, the cows munching on tumbleweeds, and the trains weaving through barren towns with old, painted water towers.

Microbrewery in Historic Cheyenne: Freedom’s Edge.

As the sun was setting, I made my way back in to Cheyenne and photographed the wheat in the bright colors.  The train tracks were shining parallel lines running the stretch of endless fields.  Traffic picked up again in Cheyenne, and I managed to park near the train station to walk past Wrangler’s to a microbrewery in Historic Cheyenne called Freedom’s Edge.  I slowly sipped on a chili IPA, loving the spice, when I met three locals who encouraged me to try the Pumpkin Ale.  I ended up getting special privileges and sitting upstairs with these three kids, Matt, Corey, and Kris.  I kept an eye on my watch and then they invited me back to Corey’s house after chatting for some time.  They had just killed an elk and showed me the work they had done in Corey’s garage.  They also shared some of their home-brewed beer and introduced me to some more friends and the five dogs running around Corey’s house.  We chatted for a little longer, then I had to say goodbye and head back to Colorado.  I have an invitation now to return for a real tour of Wyoming.  Apparently people are very into rock-climbing out here.

Chili beer.

My new friends photographed me by the silly sign.

I had wanted to stop in Fort Collins to see a friend on the way back in, but I was pushing my rental hours too close and decided to drive straight back.  I made it back in the nick of time and was met by my friend, Claire.  She and I used to go to Case together and play hockey in Cleveland.  She just moved to Golden this summer, leaving her job to study for a master’s at the Colorado School of Mines.  She is going to be hosting me during my stay in Colorado.  We caught up a little on the 45 minute drive back to her dorm then I finally got to lay out in her spare room and catch up on some sleep.

Goodbye, Alaska

Tags

AISES, Alaska, alone, Anchorage, Case Western, Cleveland, Denver, flight, goodbye, Native American, return home, solo travel, Voting Day

I woke up to a sunrise over a different set of mountains.  I was in Denver.  Our plane was beginning its descent.  It’s also Voting Day.  Fortunately, I had sent in my ballot in advance.

I decided to have breakfast while I waited for my next flight.  It was too early for my Ranger IPA, so I wandered through Concourse B until I found Pour La France, a French-style restaurant.  I settled on eggs Benedict without the meat.  The waitress was really nice and brought me fruit to make up the difference.  I welcomed a warm cup of coffee and slowly ate my enormous meal.

In no time, I was on my plane and saying goodbye to Denver.

In a matter of hours, I was approaching Cleveland.

About 1,199 miles later, compared to the 2,402 miles overnight, I was landing back in Ohio.  My brother met me outside and drove me back to the apartment.  I gathered my things and, before long, headed back out to attend my evening class.  My friends greeted me and asked how my trip was.  The first thing I said was, “Wow, is Cleveland hot!” and they laughed because it was maybe 50F.  But as for the trip itself, I found it hard to retell.  There were just too many details, too many pictures, things that would take so long to explain.  Besides, certain things mean something altogether different to different people.  I decided to be curt in my answers.  Any more explanation than that and I know I’d be launching into a long, drawn-out speech about traveling alone, finding your culture, or how sustainability is the vital core to native existence.

“So did you have fun?” Michael and the others asked.
“Yeah… yeah, I did.  You could say that,” I answered.  I couldn’t find the words, so I left it at that.  Hopefully these entries will fill those voids.As for Alaska, what a whirlwind of a week.  I can’t wait to be back, to take someone new.  I can’t wait to see my friends again.  And I can’t wait to go to the AISES National Conference in Denver next year.

The Treacherous Road to Wasilla and Anchorage

Tags

AISES, Alaska, Alehouse, Anchorage, beer, Case Western, Denali, Denali National Park, Denver, Fairbanks, flight, goodbye, hiking, Last Frontier Brewing Company, lyrics, Mt. McKinley, Native American, park, Red, Sarah Palin, snow, solo travel, student, Talkeetna, Taylor Swift, Ted Stevens Airport, tour, treacherous, Wal-Mart, Wasilla

I plowed my way south for about five hours.  I was thrilled to have seen Denali in the morning light, and now I was privileged enough to see the sun set beside it as well.  I stopped for some panoramic shots as well as a cup of coffee to go at The Longhorn Saloon in Cantwell!  Cantwell was a quiet, small town alongside some railroad tracks, a few miles from the main drag.  Inside were two old guys who were chatting over coffee and watching TV.  I don’t think I was an expected type to visit, but the one guy got up and poured me a warm Styrofoam cup for less than a dollar upon request.

I drove, took pictures, drove some more.  I came up on a red truck and passed it.  Another solo woman!  I pulled over and took more pictures and she passed me.  I got back on the road and passed her again.  Later, at a beautiful sightseeing location for the Denali range, I pulled over and hiked to a high point to take photos.  I turned around to find the woman pulling in.  She hiked up beside me and took pictures as well.  Neither of us said anything.  When it was time to go, we both turned to our cars.  She waited for a few minutes while I got in mine and took off before she followed.  I think we both knew I would end up passing her and our game of tag was becoming a little annoying, although funny.

Before I knew it, I had passed the exit for Talkeetna and was swiftly approaching Wasilla.  I stopped at Fishers Fuel and caught sight of a place called the Last Frontier Brewing Company.  I went there for a fish meal and beer.  Local brews, just like I like it!  I had eaten and drank my way through Alaska, but, looking around at the locals, I felt like I had had the real experience.  Then my mind raced back to the fact that I was in Wasilla, Sarah Palin’s very own!  I wondered if I could find where she lived… Sure enough, a Google search proved fruitful.  I typed in the address and realized it was just up the road, where I had just passed.  I paid my bill and took off towards the Palin’s.  I found the driveway and took a picture of the classic road sign in front.  I couldn’t exactly see anything, but I was satisfied.  It was enough for me.  I decided to stop off at a Wal-Mart for a CD to take me the rest of the way into Anchorage.

Sign outside of Sarah Palin’s house.

I would have stopped sooner, but this Wasilla Wal-Mart had been the closest to me on my entire trip north.  My mom got a kick out of my text earlier in the day, when I said “I’m in Healy and the closest Wal-Mart is 117 to Fairbanks or 209 to Wasilla!”  When distances are hard to describe, the amount of hours to the nearest Wal-Mart seems to put remoteness into perspective for most people.  I bought three things at the Wal-Mart: a Taylor Swift CD, an Alaska flag (which I love), and black leggings.  The last item seems bizarre, but let me explain… I had been looking for black leggings in a size small for months and every store in Cleveland was wiped out!  Here, they had plenty, so it was an obvious buy!

I blasted my new CD on the way back to Anchorage.  I have a thing about trips.  I always try to pick a song that, no matter how many times I hear it, will always take me back to a trip, to a place, to a group of friends, to a particular night.  Gangnam Style had become the hit of the Boeing party, a good reminder of the AISES Conference and how much fun I’d had with my Hawai’ian friends.  But my trip up north?  I immediately found my hit: Treacherous.

This slope is treacherous
This path is reckless
This slope is treacherous
But I, I, I, I like it… 

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night and I will
Get you a-, get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind and I just
Think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will
Follow you, follow you home
I’ll follow you, follow you home…

And it was true.  Nothing safe is worth the drive, at least not one like what I did today!  The more treacherous, the more thrilling, and I now knew that first hand.  Thank you, Taylor Swift, for forever establishing these memories.

As my goodbye to Alaska, I decided to stop in the parking lot of the hockey rink and pack my bags.  It only seemed fitting.  Hockey.  I threw my stuff in the bed and, while the album kept spinning, I rolled my sleeping back and repacked my clothes and poster.  When the time came, I sadly got back in and waved goodbye.  I drove to the airport, left my truck, turned in my keys because it was past hour, then slipped into the airport to check in.

Geese flying through the terminal.

I settled in at a bar and had my final local brew.  As the time ticked away, I realized how fond I had become of Alaska.  I was sad to say goodbye to the city, the state, and the conference, but it was time.  At around midnight, I was boarding my plane and saying my final goodbyes from the sky.  I was absolutely exhausted, but proud of myself nonetheless.  It was a long day.  I slept almost the whole way to Denver, thoroughly worn out.  Regardless, I felt like a real, tired, and gruff Alaskan outdoorswoman.

Flying Alone in Hurricane Sandy

Tags

AISES, Alaska, Anchorage, Case Western, Cleveland, Denver, hurricane Sandy, missed flight, Native American, plane delay, research, solo travel, student

Today started with a lot of bitter thoughts.  My Twitter feed was full of people complaining that they had been out of power for hours.  Cleveland seems incapable of taking any challenging weather without making a complete drama scene out of it.  Being from Pennsylvania, heavy storming is a common side effect of east coast hurricanes.  My mom texted me how grandma once again lined her hallways with buckets of water and plugged her drains to fill up.  Grandma treats every storm like it’s going to leave her stranded for weeks.  Yet we were hit considerably harder at home than in Cleveland.  One friend in Cleveland wined that his laptop was running out of power, so how could he watch his favorite shows once it dies?  I wanted to slap him.  “Ever heard of candles and board games?” I asked him, reflecting on my times as a child when the storms would hit home.  “That sounds horrible,” he replied.  “Well, while you’re busy feeling bad about yourself for missing Glee, consider that someone’s day is below average because he’s missing his wife and house!” I snapped back.  That kind of selfishness really irks me.

Because of Hurricane Sandy, my early departure today was unfortunately canceled.  I had spent an hour waiting to get through to the airlines, then another considerable amount of time was spent trying to communicate with the Indian man on the other side of the phone.  I needed to know if I couldn’t get an earlier flight.  My arrival time in Alaska was supposed to be around midnight Alaska time – my hostel would be locked.  I got nowhere with the man.  Every time I asked if there was an earlier flight, he would forget what day I was leaving in the first place and tell me a time even later.  I gave up.  Too many people must be calling, anyway.  I would manage.  I was still sick to my stomach about the potential of being stranded at night, though, and with the thoughts swarming in my head about the conference as it was.

I packed my things in for the last time and took off walking to the RTA railway station.  My down jacket and hiking boots felt way too hot, especially considering I was dressed in layers.  However, I need the warmth in Alaska… and the space in my suitcase.  I sat at the station and had a moment of panic: Do I have money?  I’ve had a history of problems with money and my credit card, a Discover card my dad gave me that doesn’t work anywhere outside of the US.  Oh, outside of the US.  I’ll still be in the US… it just won’t feel anything like it.  I began breathing again and boarded the train that had just pulled up.  The ride was miserably hot in my jacket and I felt like an awkward minority, as I always do when riding Cleveland public transportation.

I arrived at the airport for my afternoon flight a little later than I was hoping.  I didn’t realize the train would take so long.  Coming back from my last trip to Montreal, it had seemed much shorter.  I was originally supposed to catch a flight to Chicago then Seattle, but instead I was going to Denver for my layover.  As I walked in, I realized how many people had “was supposed to” stories.  The crowd wasn’t so bad when I first arrived, but I checked in quickly then turned around to see an enormous line.  I had over an hour before my flight; my ticket recommended having at least 30 minutes.  However, the line was not budging.  I stood and watched painfully as the minutes ticked away.  A cameraman from Channel 5 scooted past us.  I looked woundedly into the camera, exaggerating the effect waiting had on me and wondering who was watching, who might feel bad for me.  Then the reality of it sunk in: The crowd is so bad that it’s on TV… I’m never going to make it to Alaska!  With 10 minutes before my plane took off, the line was backed down across the front of the building, one of the three entry points was still closed, and I was not even in the front row yet for passport checks.

I tried asking certain people what I could do.  The lady in uniform told me to ask the airline people, but the airline people told me it was out of their power.  One guy in line said, “So many people are in this position, I’m guessing they’ll hold your flight.”  But the people behind me were nervous for me, an older couple on their way to Tennessee.  Finally, the lady spoke for me: “Do you mind if she just…goes in front of you?  At least we have 30 minutes extra.  She’s making me nervous.”  One by one, people said, “Go in front of me, go ahead.”  With 5 minutes before departure, I was shoved to the front of the line and going through TSA.  With 3 minutes to go, I got stopped in the body scan and forced to go through extra tests.  They said I had metal in my pockets, which I didn’t (no buttons, just stitching!) and someone had to swipe my hands.  I still don’t know why that happened, but I didn’t have the time to spare.  Dismissed at last, I threw my unzipped jackets on, tied my laces just enough that they wouldn’t trip me, then sprinted down the halls sloppily, but as quickly as I could.  I hadn’t eaten all day, though, and I was really feeling how heavy my luggage was as well as how hot two heavy coats are inside a heated terminal.

Naturally, my gate was farther than I’d ever had to go before for a flight.  I got there very literally as they were shutting the door.  “Where are all these people coming from??” they asked as I pleaded to be let through, and I tried to explain that everyone had come in from Pennsylvania and more just to use our airports in the storms.  They grabbed one of my carry-ons and checked it in for free, due to the full flight, which worked for me because I was definitely pushing the carry-on limits with my suitcase, duffle bag, purse, and poster tube.  I sat down on the plane, my seat taken and settling for whatever was open, completely out of breath.  I tied my shoes.  My blisters were bleeding on the sides of my feet and I was panting and sweaty.  I sat between two women.  One was an older lady going to visit her girlfriend in Denver and the other, who was around my age, works for the airlines, was from an hour outside of Cleveland, and was going back to Denver for a few days before her next flight.  I kept telling them how I wish I could go back and thank all of those people who literally sacrificed to get me to Alaska.  I would have undoubtedly missed my flight, and I hope they made theirs.  The only person to come on after me was a woman with a stroller who had been several switchbacks ahead of me, and I don’t even want to imagine what she had to go through to make it with her child.

The flight was only a few hours to Denver.  I used it well, drawing sketches for my EEPS 220 EPA RainWorks Challenge.  I also read some of Tony Hillerman’s first book, a reread for me.  When we landed at Denver, I said goodbye to the ladies I sat with and went to a bar for a salad and local brew.  I’m all about local experiences, and, yes, beer totally counts.  The Ranger IPA from Fort Collins was amazing.  I had two while uploading my class files to Driven.  My professor had asked me to do this extra work for him, even though he knew I was flying to Alaska.  I’m not sure why I accepted, but he must have known he could ask and that I would anyway.

With that done and my bill paid, I wandered over to my second flight.  My seat on the plane was an aisle seat; I usually sit by the window, but I was zero-for-two today.  I got to sit in the back of the plane next to a lady who was visiting her new grandchild in Alaska, where she grew up.  She now lives with her husband in Oklahoma.  He will come to visit the baby when she returns.  She had a slightly southern accent, a drawl which I always find unusually comforting.  I guess I get my own share of southern drawls at home, near the Mason Dixon line.

Looking around the plane, I could see a cluster of kids around my age, some with posters.  I could tell by their looks and by their clothes that they were going to the AISES Conference.  One jacket said “Rosebud”, which is probably the Rosebud tribe.  I didn’t say Hi to them, but they were busy talking to strangers and playing iPad games with them a few rows in front of me.  I couldn’t help but stare.  These were clearly Rez kids from the Dakotas.  It was my understanding that those reservations were not as well off as the eastern ones, so I marveled at the idea of them flying clear to Alaska… and playing on iPads!  Even I couldn’t afford fancy toys!  I’ve read so much about reservations lacking electricity and plumbing in a lot of places, with the majority of residents under the poverty line, and yet here were these kids playing games on a plane to Alaska, chatting about Facebook and cars and everything I would have expected from a typical, non-isolated American resident.  Technology and connectivity has a way of changing the world, that’s for sure.

When I finally got to Anchorage (I paid for a movie for the 5.5 hour flight, but then slept towards the end – an effort to get on the 4-hours-behind time zone), the landing was scary due to the temperature change and the turbulence as we broke into the lower atmosphere.  The airport itself was extremely empty, especially in comparison to Cleveland and what I speculated to be the case out east.  Additionally, it was around midnight when I got there.  I had to wait for my bag, then figure out how to go outside and get a shuttle.  The shuttle service I was going to use before my flight got pushed back was now closed due to the late hour.  I learned how to grab a cab for my first time alone and took it to my hostel.  At my hostel, I picked up the phone in the birdhouse outside as instructed (I had previously asked about afterhours check-ins and they told me to do this), but no one came to let me in.  There was no ring on the phone (maybe there wasn’t supposed to be), but I gave up after several minutes of trying.  I called my mom.  She was already up for the next day since she gets up early every day and I was hours behind.  She left an angry message for the hostel after telling me to go to another hotel.  I then dropped $100 to stay a night in the Sheraton, whereas my whole week at the hostel was $125.  Not a good way to start off my weeklong experience alone.

The workers in the lobby sympathized with my situation and gave me this discounted rate.  I was in room 1010, a nice number.  The guy who gave me the key card was from Apollo, Pennsylvania.  Small world, I thought, because I knew exactly where that is.  My room was super nice.  I had two beds and I had to choose which to stay in.  This decision was actually a difficult one.  I wanted to lounge for a while then sleep but, sadly, I only had a few hours left of the night.  I wish I could’ve slept much longer, but I had a tour in the morning and needed to check in.  I also saw in my emails that I needed my presentation on thumb drive when I had only brought it via email.  The thumb drive idea had completely slipped my mind for some stupid reason.  I knew I had to figure out what to do in the morning.

I was so tired, I didn’t even shower.  I just looked up some opening times and stores, set my alarm, and fell asleep to the television, ready to walk a few miles in the snow the next morning if need be.