Quinn’s Extraordinary Travel Ramblings:

Quinn’s Extraordinary Travel Ramblings:
November 14th- December 4th:

Our time at home was most satisfying. We enthusiastically entered the Christmas spirit by decking the halls of our happy abode. One of our newest holiday traditions is setting up the Department 56 Christmas Village which we recently inherited from our grandma Kay. Grandma Kay had been collecting village pieces for several decades. When we were really young my sisters and I would relish the excitement of Christmas Eve at our grandparents house and watch the lights of their Christmas village twinkle in the darkness. Eventually grandma Kay grew tired of the lengthy process of setting up, taking down and storing the ever expanding village. And despite the dismayed protests of family members, as a new year dawned she packed it up for the last time and sent parts of it home with her children’s families, telling us that she was spreading the joy and it was time for us to carry on the tradition in our own homes.

Grandma Kay did keep one piece that I suspect was probably her absolute favorite. The carrousel. A nostalgic mood can be powerfully evoked with a simple item of beauty such as the village carrousel. Growing up in southern California, Grandma Kay spent her summers on the coast at Santa Cruz with my great, great grandmother. This small seaport town held wonderful attractions for the young at heart. The long sand beach and salty ocean breakers are among the obvious. But an added bonus was the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. Grandma remembers frequenting it during the summers of 1939 till around 1955.

The Fun House, one of her frequent stops on the boardwalk, allowed her admittance for just twenty-five cents. She could check out her wind swept hair bob in the crazy mirrors as she headed for a trek through the spinning barrels and then on to the wave boards. A climb to the top of the giant slide was a must; as from there she could survey the rest of her Fun House options. After a spell it was an exceptional day if she had an adult companion who would treat her to a mexicone. This was a soft shell tortilla which was fried till just a bit crispy then folded neatly into a cone shape and of course filled like a taco. I intend to try my hand at concocting one of these south of the border wonders.

Now best of all was the Looff Carrousel which appeared at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk in 1911. This ride boasted seventy-three hand carved and exquisitely painted horses created by American artisan Mr. Charles I.D. Looff. The carrousel conductor would collect grandma Kay’s ten cents as she sauntered by, intent on claiming her prize stallion for the day. The music commenced and the carrousel slowly began to pick up its whirling speed. Leaning forward in anticipation, her hand would shoot out and snatch up one of the shining brass rings as she whizzed by. Then she would toss the ring toward the laughing clown’s mouth in hopes of hitting her target dead on.

The Alaska String Band has not toured on the west coast, except of course in Alaska and Canada, but we hope to some day soon. And if we do I surely hope to pay a visit to my grandma’s sea side haunt of Santa Cruz and take a spin on the Looff Carrousel. I’ll snatch a brass ring and hit the bull’s eye as I pass by. I’ll probably even bury Laura and Abby up to their necks in the sand. Then I‘ll dance the drunken sailor two step around them – chanting in my sing song voice… “It’s the pirates life for me!“, and slowly devour a triple scoop Rocky Road chocolate ice cream cone in front of them.

I seem to have digressed. Now back to the frozen north! We were decking the halls. So we began the ritual of baking holiday gingerbread cookies. These cookies are simply for decoration, and definitely not for consumption as they come out of the oven as hard as rocks. Our dog Cedar as been caught nibbling at them a time or two. I shape them roughly ten to twelve inches across, cutting around cardboard templates of various wild animals and some not so wild. Owls, ravens, roosters, parrots, cows, sheep, horses, goats, trolls, and Olivia the pig are a few of the chosen subjects. It becomes a work of art as Laura and Abby “sketch” each animal’s individual features in with piped white icing.

We spent a day or so of hunting in vain for our favorite garlands of fresh pine boughs, which were quickly snatched up when they first arrived in stores (one bummer of living in a small town in Alaska, where it’s the early bird that gets the worm.) We finally checked out the faux pine decorations at JoAnne’s Fabrics store. My mom abhors silk floral arrangements so she was not a happy camper. She and Laura finally settled on some garlands of red winter berries and brought them home. After they were suspended from the post and beam ceiling in our kitchen and strung with white frosted globe lights and the amazing gingerbread creatures we all stood back and agreed that it was just dandy. Departing from decorating tradition hadn’t ruined Christmas after all.

Of course my dad led us out on a tree cutting expedition. Southeast Alaska offers more trees than you can fathom. So selecting a tree is a simple and celebrated event. We drug it home and let it stand to dry overnight. Old world blown glass ornaments, and hand crocheted snowflakes, cranberry beads, popcorn strings and candles were hung on the tree in rapid succession. We’ve never actually lit the candles, but my mom says that some year she want’s to cut the tree on Christmas eve and light the candles while the tree is still fresh and it is reasonably safe to do so. I suppose I will have to stand by with a bucket of water.

The weekend that we returned to Juneau the Northern Lights Junior Theatre was performing their fall play “Cinderella.” Abby and I set out with our youth group from church to see the musical. In route we stopped at Bullwinkle’s Pizza Parlor. The play was taken from the original production written by Rodgers and Hammerstein. This production consisted of actors from three years old to fifty at least. Much of the cast were friends of ours and who are educated at home and enjoy the arts as much as we do.

One evening in late November we were scheduled to provide entertainment at the Island Pub located on Douglas Island. We set up our sound system early in the day and checked to make sure that it was all working. When I say we, I actually mean Dad. Abby and I sat at a table and ordered pizza and salad. That evening there was a full house and it was as noisy as ever. I flipped on the sound system only to discover that some of the microphones would not pick up a signal. Dad and I tried our best to get them running to no avail. Down to one, single, hot microphone which we huddled around, the evening music got underway. There was much weaving in and out and bumping into one another as the evening wore on, but we managed. And everyone apparently had a great night at the Island Pub.

Abby turned 13 on November 17th which was a great excitement for her. We didn’t have a party on her birthday. Instead we were planning a double birthday party for her and I in December. My birthday wasn’t till January 15th so the party was right in the middle of them. We were planning on giving a Victorian dinner party followed by going to the formal Winter Ball of the season.

Abby invited a gaggle of girls to sleep over the night before the dinner party. They played games, ate food, tried each others dresses on for the dance and tried to see how many people they could get to play “Heart and Soul” on the piano at the same time (I believe they managed five.) Everybody piled into the truck and headed up the mountain to Eaglecrest our local ski area to go sledding. It was very dark out and henceforth things were made a little hairy scary. Later on I was kicked out of the house for the rest of the night so as to give the girls some privacy. I headed over to some good friends who lived down the road a bit.

Party day dawned cold and snowy. The roads were dicey with ice and snow on them. Our driveway which is long, steep and curvy was quite slick. So we sanded the worst of it. The dress code for the dinner party and dance was formal. It was great fun seeing all the gents and ladies decked out for the occasion. Only one boy tried to slip through the entrance in jeans. But I caught him and sent him to comply.

Mom and Dad put on an amazing feast including roast pork with apple glaze, dilled carrots, spring greens, garlic mashed potatoes and dinner roles. There was an amazing spread of fancy cookies and candies which Laura, Abby and I had baked over the course of several weeks.

Juneau’s winter ball was held down town at Centennial Hall. The Thunder Mountain Big Band provided live music for the evening. Most of our party of forty were semi experienced dancers and had spent time learning ball room dances as well as swing. A Conga Line was formed and everyone quickly fell in. Even our previous dance instructors who happened to be on the dance floor that night joined in with the fun. As we made a second pass through the hall an “older gentleman” approached and told us to stay out of the way. So sadly, we quickly dispersed.

The evening drew to a close. A group photo was in order of course. We asked one of the adults to take the picture which was a bad idea, because none of them could figure out how to operate the camera.

That night the guys came home with me. On the way up our driveway the truck lost traction and went screaming down the hill backwards. Us being less than perfect teenagers, took a consensus and decided to try it again. I backed the truck down Nine Mile Creek Road a good long ways, and with plenty of room for acceleration, I put the pedal to the metal. We took the first curve with ease, barreled up the steep incline and rounded the second corner. As all the boys bellowed an indistinct war chant about monkeys the rocket truck preceded to slide crazily down backwards again. This time though we were stopped quite abruptly by a large tree. Abandoning the vehicle we ascertained it might be a good idea to walk up…

Sunday after church in the daylight my dad and I inspected the rear end of the truck. I have decided to skip writing about that to save you from the grisly visual it would entail.

Quinn’s Extraordinary Travel Ramblings: November 10th-14th

Quinn’s Extraordinary Travel Ramblings:

November 10^th-14^th

After being on the road for six weeks we headed back to Alaska! We flew out of Dallas, Texas on an Alaska Airlines flight. Our course took us up through the rain filled city of Seattle, Washington. When we finally landed in Juneau our first stop was to shop at Costco.

 

Shopping at Costco in Juneau, Alaska is usually an upbeat social event.  The quality products offered at reasonable prices make a small, remote town in Alaska the envy of other smaller, remote towns which struggle with the ever escalating cost of living as well.   And on each aisle we meet and greet half a dozen or more friends and acquaintances.  One thing you don’t want to do in small town Alaska where everybody knows everybody’s business is go to the grocery store if you are in a hurry or happen to be in a particularly unsociable mood.  Unless of course you are comfortable placing a paper bag over your head as a disguise or enjoy peering around corners and dodging the gaze of recognition from your friendly and sometimes not so friendly cohabitants.  Living in Juneau is kind of like living in a fish bowl.  With just forty miles of road from end to end and no way out but to fly or float, if you spend a few seasons you will eventually know and or recognize most every one.   Inevitably the current brings you around to see folks again and again.

 

Early November at Costco held lots of comforting treasures: Thinsulate ski gloves (jet black or powder blue);  rag wool socks; jumbo ice scrapers; a huge assortment of holiday chocolates (Belgian are exceptionally good);  a brand new walk in refrigeration room stalked with beautiful produce; radiant space heaters; cozy blankets; movie theatre style popcorn machines and a satisfying collection of entertainment gadgets and media to accompany the popcorn……

 

In good time we drove into downtown Juneau, crossed the bridge to Douglas Island and drove the last seven and a half miles to Nine Mile Creek.  Our faithful dog Cedar was the first to greet us.  Her hair had grown a lot in the time that we were gone and she looked strangely like a blackened marshmallow (a very joyful one.)

 

On entering our house we were once again struck with the pure luxury it is to live in a home.   There’s nothing like living in a forty foot bus with your family to put life in healthy perspective.

 

We were only home for a day before we headed out of town again. Our new destination was the Alaska Bald Eagle Festival, which was located in Haines, Alaska. The Alaska Bald Eagle Festival is an annual celebration of the largest congregation of Bald Eagles in the world. Over a thousand come every year to eat of the fish in the Chilkoot river. The reason that they come to eat out of this specific river is that it doesn’t freeze over so there are many fish there. The Bald Eagle Foundation also takes care of injured birds.  They care for everything from owls to eagles.

We loaded our pick-up truck on the ferry which would transport us up the inland passage from Juneau to Haines. The ride was jam packed with people. Henceforth we ended up having to sit on the floor for the four hour ride.  A group of students from the University of Alaska Southeast were on the ferry with us. One of their teachers gave a talk on sports that pushed the limits of sanity.

In Haines we set up our sound system and prepared for an evening concert at the Bald Eagle Foundation.  One of the naturalists was feeding the great horned owl they were taking care of.  In a back room we discovered a deep freeze packed full with  rodents and chicks to be fed to the resident eagles and owls which were in the care of the foundation.

Approximately 150 folks attended our concert that evening.   The concert hall was filled with Alaskan wildlife exhibits.   Right over the stage loomed a magnificent moose.  Standing up abruptly once during the performance the moose and I collided heads.  The Blood family were our hosts for the weekend.  So we enjoyed visiting with them a little before retiring for the night.

The next morning we returned to the eagle foundation hall where we were scheduled to give the Southeast Alaskan Odyssey Show.  Laura and I killed some time looking at post cards in the gift shop while we waited for the bald eagle presentation to conclude which came before us on the day’s program.  Once again the hall was filled to capacity and we kicked into gear with the Odyssey Show.  The audience was engaged and seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Especially during the Minor Swing when my mom stabbed my dad with her bow hand, narrowly missing his eye.  I think I’ll find an eye patch to put in my dad’s Christmas stocking.

 

In the late afternoon our good friends, the Lidholms, joined us for a drive up the river valley.  The eagles were out in force and it was a beautiful day.  We stopped at the 26 Mile Roadhouse and consumed some great burgers and shakes.   On the way back from dinner we were listening to the radio.  The weather man came on and spoke these words, “It looks like we will be having rain for the next couple of days,……actually……, for the rest of the year.”

Sunday morning was utter chaos trying to get to church on time and as usual we managed it but just barely.  Port Chilkoot Bible Church had invited us to attend their service and play some music.  The Diggins’ family provided a wonderful lunch and good company.  The Lidholms joined us once again and Mr. Lidholm brought his Mac with him.   Laura and I joined forces as we tried to convince Dad of our desperate need to update our computer.  We concluded our stay in Haines with Jaunita’s amazing apple pie.

The ferry ride home had plenty of room to spread out and we secured a state room to nap in as well.   We ended up spending most of the time in the theater watching “Did You Hear About the Morgan’s?” and “The Spy Next Door.” The second of the two was a Jackie Chan movie. Mom didn’t know what it was but as soon as she saw that Jackie Chan was in it she vacated the theater. For some reason she doesn’t enjoy his movies, when asked why she will reply, “I just don‘t.”

We hauled up our driveway at 11:30 p.m. which on our internal clocks, not yet adjusted to Alaska time, was 2:30 a.m.  So we settled down for a long winter’s nap.