Pulling into Juneau on a crisp January morning was a mixed bag of feelings. On the one hand, it was great to be back, especially on a ruby dazzler of a day like the one pictured below. Winter in Alaska (not only a collection of words used to describe a time and place combination, but also the name of an experimental electronic gypsy-pop solo musical act, so I'm told). I questioned whether I was up to it, and there I was. About to drive away from the ferry terminal into the day to day of a Juneau January. On the other hand, as I drove past a few familiar haunts in Auke Bay, I had more and more of what Jules in Pulp Fiction called a moment of clarity. I realized where home is, and who and what are important to me. Montana is home; it feels like no other place. It feels like home in a way that words can't describe. Better yet, words definitely could describe the feeling, but I'm trying to type this whilst eating spaghetti, and I don't have the capacity to excel in sentence creation while simultaneously chowing on last night's dinner... Anyhow, coastal Alaska does indeed have it all: the ocean, fresh seafood, sea kayaking, rock and ice climbing, mountaineering, alpine hiking, abundant wildlife, sizeable brown bears, bald eagles roosting around every corner, and any other magical experience you'd like to get mixed up in in the out of doors. But it ain't home. And it's a pretty solidifying feeling, at least for a pseudo vagabondish ranger type like myself, to definitely know who and where home is.
Sliding into Auke Bay in Juneau. I could smell the chocolate chip waffles at the Southeast Waffle Company from the boat. Which, actually, was a total lie. But those waffles were certainly among my priorities as I began to line out my first day back in town...
A quiet morning alpenglow on the Chilkats south of Haines.
A late winter sunrise sneaking its way through Youngs Cove on Admiralty Island.
The early a.m. on the Lynn Canal.
Unfortunate winter sailing weather south of Wrangell...
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