33 Hours in Alaska

Since I live in Seattle, I'm not a stranger to mountain views. We're surrounded by lush forests and snowy peaks, and I was prepared for more of the same on a recent business trip to Anchorage. What I discovered, however, is that Alaska takes the splendors of Washington's natural surroundings and puts them on steriods. The descent into Anchorage is one of the most spectacular I've ever experienced, with mountain tops practically close enough to touch.

As we all craned to take in the view, the flight attendant told us that the tides are rather extreme through the inlet below us, and the silt is so thick that it acts like quicksand. She told us not to attempt crossing from one side to the other when the tide is out. This was the first time I heard a flight attendant warn passengers about dangers on the ground, and I soon learned that along with the great wild beauty of Alaska came great and wild dangers.

The event that my co-worker and I are planning will take place in both Anchorage and Girdwood. We spent our first 7 hours visiting vendors in Anchorage and from this experience I learned three things: 1) just as there is "island time", there is "Alaska time" 2) in some places women have mustaches 3) Seattle is very safe. Heck, Chicago is safe compared to the cautions we received. Not one vendor would let us take a taxi and would instead drive us to the next location themselves. We later learned that several women had recently been assaulted by taxi drivers. Apparently one of Anchorage's dirty little secrets is crimes against women (you can guess what that means). This doesn't really surprise me in a place that traditionally attracts those willing to endure harsh conditions for monetary gain. Nevertheless, I did not expect such an extreme reaction on the part of the locals.

Our one night's stay in Alaska would be at the Alyeska Resort in Girdwood. Even though the mountains surrounding Anchorage were pretty impressive, I was excited to get out into the wilderness and see what Alaska was all about. The drive along Seward Highway hugs the Turnagain Arm and is flanked by the craggy slopes of the Chugach Mountains on one side and the snow-capped Kenai Mountains on the other.  

The Seward Highway

My co-worker and me (on the right), way overdressed, in the Alaskan wilderness.

Our driver was terrific, pointing out sights along the way. But as a former EMT, he also had a few too many bear-mauling stories to share, so by the time we arrived at Alyeska, we were pretty traumatized about getting out of the car. We had all teased another co-worker because her mother recommended we invest in bear spray. Now it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Our driver's advice was that if a brown bear touches you, fall to the ground and play dead. If you are attacked by a black bear, fight back vigorously. ... Come again? "Fight back"? Against a bear?! Do I seriously look capable of fighting a bear?!

Armed with this valuable advice, we arrived at Alyeska.

It had been cold and rainy the week before, but the sun started peeking through the clouds upon our arrival. What I forgot to take into account were the long days. There were only about 2 hours of true night during our one-night stay. If I had been on vacation, I would have stayed up just to experience 1 a.m. daylight.

I had 4 windows in my hotel room. Each had a mountain view.

The view from one of the ballrooms.

After a hearty dinner and drawn black-out curtains in my hotel room, I fell into a deep outback sleep. In the morning, we took the shuttle into "town," where we learned about the complexity of Alaskan politics from our client while we enjoyed local sourdough pancakes. It seems to me that it's impossible to be indifferent to politics if you live in Alaska. Conservative, Conservationist, Republican, Activist, Environmentalist, Capitalist ... everyone there has something to say. In Alaska, you're either pro Big Business or Big Wilderness.

After touring the resort property for work purposes, we took a tram ride to one of the two restaurants atop a nearby peak, but we could barely focus on business for the gorgeousness of the surroundings.

Overwhelmed by NATURE and stuffed with samples of elk sausage, reindeer bites and more Alaskan salmon than I could possibly stomach, we headed back to Anchorage. Despite all the graphic bear stories, we hadn't even seen so much as a squirrel. Our last stop was a Korean restaurant on Anchorage's outskirts. We met with a local woman who would be providing artwork and entertainment for the events. The meal she ordered included at least 10 dishes. It all looked delicious, but we were focused on staying awake long enough to meet the driver who would take us to the airport.

Once again, Alaska didn't fail to surprise, and along the highway we spotted a moose quietly munching its way through the urban greenery.

If you've ever watched Frozen Planet or any other wildlife program on the Arctic, penguins or polar bears, I'm sure you're familiar with the impressive images of glacial lakes and ice floes meeting the ocean. These occurrences seem so exotic that I never expected to witness one myself. Yet looking out the window on the flight back to Seattle, I almost felt like a true explorer as I spotted vast sheets of ice flowing into open water.

Traveling to Alaska was a jarring experience, much like my first trip to India was. No matter how open-minded you are, you don't necessarily expect a place to be so intense that you shun it while you're there, but later find yourself craving a return. The politics of the region is not just intriguing, but also deeply important to the future of our planet. It's easy to gloss over the global warming debates here in the lower 48, but in Alaska, you can't escape it.