2015 Alaska and Western Canada 1 by Susan Hanes

2015 Alaska and Western Canada 1

A journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip through Alaska and Western Canada from August 13September 30, 2015. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, c. 2015 Cover: Totem carver at Haida Heritage Center, á¸´ay Llnagaay

Alaska and Western Canada August 13â&#x20AC;&#x201D;September 30, 2015 Vol. 1 August 13â&#x20AC;&#x201D;August 30 including Haida Gwaii Our seven-week road trip to Alaska and Canada gave us the opportunity to explore areas that lie beyond the itinerary of the casual tourist. Driving over 10,000 miles in our own car and three rentals, we traveled through Live US states, four Canadian provinces, and the Yukon Territory. We covered the entire Alaska Highway, the 1,387-mile road constructed during WWII to connect Alaska to the Lower 48 states through Canada. We took eleven ferries, visiting the islands of Haida Gwaii in British Columbia and the Aleutian Chain from Kodiak to Dutch Harbor. We gained insights into the culture of Live native peoples: the Tsimshian of the Skeena and Nass River areas of British Columbia; the Tlingit, who live along the coastal areas of southern Alaska; the Haida, who live on the islands of Haida Gwaii; the Alutiiq, natives of the Kenai and Alaska Peninsulas and Kodiak; and the Aleuts, who live along the Aleutian Islands and the western portion of the Alaska Peninsula. We traveled through sites of the Klondike Gold Rush, when an estimated 100,000 prospectors came to the

Yukon after gold was discovered on August 16, 1896, following their route from Skagway and Dyea to White Pass and the Chilkoot Trail, through Whitehorse to Dawson City. We visited Dutch Harbor, which the Japanese bombed on June 3, 1942, six months after Pearl Harbor, and saw the remains of Fort Schwatka on Unalaska Island and remains of the coastal defense installation at Fort Abercrombie on Kodiak Island. The Russian presence in Alaska provided another historical theme as we visited Russian churches and buildings in Sitka, Ninilchik, Kodiak, Ouzinkie, and Unalaska. Throughout, we enjoyed the unmatched natural beauty of Alaska and Western Canada, but lamented evidence of its destruction through overLishing, clear-cutting of Lirst-growth forests, and unregulated mining. Throughout our travels, we particularly enjoyed meeting both natives and newer transplants. We discovered that by visiting local bars we could talk to interesting people and hear their unique stories, which enriched our understanding of the region. 1

Thursday, August 13 - Sunday, August 16 Jake travels from Chicago to Edmonton, Alberta While I was visiting Chris and Maggie in Chapel Hill, Jake was driving from Chicago to Edmonton. On Thursday, he drove over 650 miles, passing through Minneapolis and stopping for the night in Fargo, ND. On Friday, he drove due north through the Red River Valley towards Winnipeg, crossing the border into Canada at 11:30 am. At that point, he had to put away the radar detector. Radar detectors are illegal in Canada and they can be conLiscated, even if they are turned off. On the way to Winnipeg, Jake noticed that many of the towns had French names, reLlecting the inLluence of the early French MĂŠtis or fur trappers who moved west through Canada and intermarried with the native people. By the end of the 19th century, many had become farmers and settled in areas from Manitoba to Alberta. These people proudly retained their French culture and their place names have remained. Once in Winnipeg, Jake set the GPS for The Forks and used it as a starting point to drive around the city. Unfortunately there was an extreme heat warning that day with temperatures rising above 95 degrees, which put a damper on his desire to sightsee. He continued west on Trans Canada Highway 1 to Portage la Prairie and then on TCH 16, stopping for the night in Neepawa, MB. He drove around town for a half hour or so, passing the home of respected Canadian author, Margaret Laurence. In the area near Neepawa, Jake started noticing the prevalence of old wooden grain elevators. The area between Winnipeg and Edmonton has extensive grain

cultivation; the Winnipeg area also has a large industrial base. On Saturday morning, Jake drove to Riding Mountain National Park. Unfortunately, just as he got to the southern entrance, it started to rain hard. He drove directly through the park but was not able to see much of anything. He encountered torrential rain that had the one positive outcome of completely cleaning the windshield of a thick accumulation of bugs. He continued west towards Yorkton, Saskatchewan where he rejoined TCH 16. At that point, the rain became so blinding that he feared he would either run off the road or be rear-ended. He was also concerned that he might encounter hail again, recalling the hailstorm in Adrian, Texas on Route 66 that did so much damage to our new car. The rain persisted as he drove through Saskatoon to North Battleford where he stopped for the night. His room at the Tropical Inn was adjacent to a pool Lilled with screaming kids and as he settled in and sipped a little rye, he ruminated that it had not been the most successful of days. Sunday morning, as he headed towards Alberta through Lloydminster, the weather looked promising. It soon clouded up, however, and as he reached Edmonton, it remained stubbornly overcast. He walked around the mall surrounding the Provincial Legislature Building but feared that his pictures were disappointing. After checking into the Hampton Inn near the Edmonton airport in Ledoc, he spent the rest of the afternoon watching the PGA golf tournament until it was time to meet me.

Sunday, August 16 I travel from Chapel Hill to Edmonton, Alberta After a visit in Chapel Hill with Maggie, Chris, Wesley, and Ryan in their new home, I boarded Air Canada 7316 from RDU to Toronto. The Llight was Line and smooth. However, the transfer to my Llight to Edmonton was a mess, starting with a mile-long walk from the very last gate to the terminal, a tedious customs experience, and an additional security check 2

on a different Lloor. The four-hour Llight to Edmonton was on a new Airbus and I arrived just after 10:00 pm local time; Jake was there to meet me after driving over 1700 miles from Chicago. He had conveniently checked into the Hampton Inn in Leduc, close to the airport and 18 miles from the Edmonton city center.

Monday, August 17 to McBride, British Columbia We checked out of the hotel at 8:30 am, driving into town to get a sense of Edmonton. Located on the North Saskatchewan River, this city of nearly a million is the capitol of Alberta; its Provincial Legislature Building sits on a bluff overlooking the river. We drove through the historic area of Old Strathmore, hoping to see interesting early 20th

century buildings but found the area disappointing. Any remaining original structures appeared to have been taken over by tattoo parlors or downscale fast food joints. After an hour spent exploring city streets and crossing over the gorge, we got on the Yellowhead Highway, the same TCH 16 that is a main east-west route across Canada.

Alberta Legislature Building Edmonton 3

This part of the highway was built over a native trail of the same name. During the early 1800s, Pierre Bostonais, an Iroquois-Métis trapper with streaks of blonde in his hair, worked for the Hudson’s Bay Company. Because of his hair color, French fur traders referred to him as Tête Jaune, literally "Yellow Head.” At 12:45 pm we reached the entrance of Jasper National Park. In spite of an overcast sky, we enjoyed the views of the Canadian Rockies. As we followed the road into the park, we came across a bighorn sheep nonchalantly grazing in the middle of the well-trafLicked highway. We turned off and ascended a 29-mile road that was built along the glacial valley between the Maligne and Elizabeth mountain ranges. We stopped to hike part of the way down the steep path for dramatic views of the deep and narrow Maligne Canyon. We continued around Medicine Lake, the lake that magically disappears each year as its waters drain into underground caves. Much of the surrounding forests had recently burned, and charred tree trunks lay starkly against the rocky mountainsides. At the end of the drive, we were treated to a vista of Maligne Lake surrounded by towering mountain peaks. We retraced the road back to Jasper, a pleasant, if touristy, town of about 5,000.

Maligne Canyon

Medicine Lake

At 3:30 pm, we were back on the Yellowhead Highway for the 100-mile drive to McBride, where we had reservations for the night. The road took us through Robson Provincial Park, where the snow-capped mountain was shrouded in clouds. It is the highest point in the Canadian Rockies. Crossing into British Columbia, we stopped at Tête Jaune Cache, an unincorporated rural area on the Fraser River at the intersection of Yellowhead Highways 5 and 16. We were hoping to Lind something interesting related to the story of the Métis fur trader Pierre Bostonais. However, little is left of this early 20th century boomtown; only an old wooden bridge over the Fraser River dating from 1953 was worth a stop and a photograph. We arrived in McBride just after 5:00 and drove down Main Street, stopping in at the Visitor Center before checking into the North Country Lodge. The lodge owner suggested that we have dinner at the Gigglin’ Grizzly Pub across the highway, just behind the town’s community center. A harried waitress served us burgers and local beer and we enjoyed the rustic atmosphere and the chance to unwind after a long day.

Tuesday, August 18 to Smithers, BC Our morning began with a hearty breakfast at the Beanery 2, located in the old McBride train depot. Owners Donna Perkins and Andy Werner took our order (two #5s with fresh eggs, home grown potatoes, bacon, and sausage) and pointed us towards the self-serve coffee station. Shabby sofas and miss-matched tables and chairs Lilled the room and corny coffee-themed signs crowded the walls. On one table, a slightly bent tent sign advised that “This table is reserved for Edgar, 2:00-4:00 pm.” As we sipped our coffee, two trains thundered through, not 20 feet from where we were sitting. Andy was a friendly fellow who had moved

to McBride from Vancouver in 2007; Donna had lived in the area since the mid-1960s. We chatted about life in McBride, and they told us about the trains that came through and how the two of them kept the restaurant open late for passengers and crew. When we said we were heading west, Andy told us not to miss the Ancient Forest on the way to Prince George. He also suggested we take a peek at a model railroad layout set up at the other end of the depot, which we did. We almost bought an old Canada Railroad lantern, and would have if we’d had any way to use it in our city apartment.

The day was sunny and bright as we left town at 9:00 am, continuing through the Robson Valley. In the distance, we could see the mountains, many with snow-capped peaks. The area’s agricultural foundation is obvious, as we saw rolls of baled hay dotting the Lields. There is also a robust lumber industry, as evidenced by logging trucks that we passed throughout the day. Leaving the valley, we entered an area of hilly spruce forests. Just as we were wondering how we would Lind the Ancient Forest that Andy had mentioned, we almost drove past an unobtrusive sign that said simply, “Ancient Forest.” A half-kilometer boardwalk took us deep into a rainforest of cedar and other trees that may have been as much as

2,000 years old. We walked amongst rich vegetation that ordinarily would be nearly impossible to penetrate. It was an magical place, especially when one considers that this temperate rainforest is more than 1,000 kilometers from the ocean. We continued west on TCH 16. Construction delays slowed us in places as we waited for long streams of vehicles to take turns on the one-lane stretches. We passed through Prince George at noon, under a cloudless sky. We drove along the Lake Country in the North Central interior of BC, through towns like Burns Lake and Fraser Lake, attractive waterside communities rich in natural beauty. The road curved along the lakes, offering beautiful views.

We entered the Bulkley Valley, bounded on the west by the Hudson Bay Mountains and on the east by the Babine Mountains, arriving in Smithers at 4:00 pm. The town is nestled at the foot of the mountains and has a population of nearly 5,500. It has adopted an alpine theme, drawn from the geography of the area. We drove down Main Street and got directions to Logpile Lodge, a log chalet overlooking the valley. Owner Barbara Luther welcomed us with chilled glasses of Jackson-Triggs Sauvignon Blanc; we learned that the winery was recently voted Canadaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s best. The Luthers, originally from Switzerland, built the lodge 18 years ago.

Barbara showed us pictures of her young family posing in front of the construction and told us how they came to be Canadian citizens. In the dining room, we met Vera and John, a couple from Texas who are on their way home after spending their 15th summer on a small island off the Alaskan coast near Ketchikan. John was a pilot for American Airlines; he met Vera when she was a Llight attendant. We enjoyed a spirited conversation before we left them and went to dinner. At Barbaraâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s suggestion, we tried Trackside Cantina, a colorful Mexican spot where we had our second meal of the day in the shadow of passing trains.

Wednesday, August 19 to Prince Rupert, BC

We awoke before the 6:30 alarm to a cool and peaceful silence, the mountains greeting us in the distance. Barbaraâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s breakfast was a work of art on the plate, with colorful roasted vegetables accompanying eggs and bacon. Her husband Christoph came in to say good morning and we asked them questions about our route. After checking out, we retraced the Live miles back into Smithers to Lill the gas tank and were on our way by 9:00 am. We continued through the Bulkley Valley, stopping at Moricetown to watch native Lishermen netting salmon in the rapids below us. Only a few miles further on, we were excited when we spotted a perfectly posed pair of young black bears by the side of the road. 15

We visited â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Ksan, situated on the site of an ancient village near the conLluence of the Skeena and Bulkley Rivers, where we hoped to gain some insight into the culture of the Gitxsan, a Tsimshianic people who have lived in the region for thousands of years. We took a tour of the reconstructed village conducted by a Tsimshian schoolgirl named Denise. We learned that she has not earned her native name yet; that will come once she has done something of signiLicant value to her clan. Denise led us through three reconstructed longhouses where she played recordings that explained the history and culture of her tribe. She told us that there are four clans: Frog, Wolf, Eagle, and Fireweed, and family lines are carried through the mother. She is a Wolf, the clan of carvers, although she says that she does not carve anything. When we entered the Lirst longhouse, we were overwhelmed by the scent of cedar. It was interesting to learn the importance of cedar to the Tsimshian: they are born on cedar mats and when they die, they are laid in cedar boxes. Cedar is used in every aspect of their lives, from creating clothing, to making Lish traps, to building structures: cedar is used in providing the necessities of food, clothing, and shelter. It was 11:30 when we returned to TCH 16 and continued west, driving along the Skeena River and enjoying spectacular scenery. We had intended to stop at other Tsimshian villages along the way, but we somehow missed them and decided not to turn around.

â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Ksan Village

We drove on to Port Edward to see the North PaciLic Cannery, British Columbia’s oldest and most complete surviving cannery village. From 1889 through the late 1970s, it was home to more than 700 Native, Chinese, Japanese, and European men and women who came seeking work in the salmon industry. Today, the cannery’s 28 surviving buildings create an evocative setting. We arrived at 2:30 pm and explored the canning factory, taking pictures of the 120-year old clapboard buildings set out in the Skeena River on pilings. At 3:00, we were shown around the plant by a Tsimshian woman named Lori, who added a personal dimension to our tour by describing the life of her grandparents, who met at the plant and subsequently married and had 17 children. She showed us the large loft that served as both a Lish net repairing room and, after work, a dance hall for the workers. She explained aspects of salmon catching, rendering, and canning. Lori’s

enthusiasm was infectious; she even took us inside her own small apartment in the laborers’ quarters, where she lives happily with her cat. In the gift shop, we found a small woven cedar rattle-topped basket by Tsimshian artist Grace Hamilton of Hazelton (aka Gitanmaax), which we bought to add to our collection. Thinking that we had until 7:00 pm to visit the Museum of Northern British Columbia in Prince Rupert, we arrived at 4:45, only to learn that our guidebook was inaccurate and the museum closed at 5:00. We were disappointed that the man at the desk was not willing to let us in for those last 15 minutes. We checked into the Crest Hotel on First Street and spent an hour organizing and repacking for our four-day trip to Haida Gwaii in the morning. After loading our unneeded bags in the car, we drove to Dolly’s Fish Market down by the water for a casual dinner of PaciLic seafood. Then it was early to bed in preparation for our ferry trip tomorrow.

North Pacific Cannery

Thursday, August 20 to Haida Gwaii, BC As we waited in the hotel lobby for the taxi to take us to the BC Ferries Terminal in Prince Rupert, I noticed a postcard with a quote by Haida poet Darrel Amos that served as a reminder as we leave for Haida Gwaii to “Celebrate life’s journey, guided by the wisdom of your ancestors.” We arrived at the terminal by 7:30 am, at least an hour earlier than we needed to be there. Most of the other passengers in the station were bikers and backpackers; the exception was a young woman rolling a white leather Kate Spade suitcase. I can’t think of a less practical piece of luggage and the last thing I would think of taking on the ferry to Haida Gwaii. Jake commented that she looked as if she were returning from a trip to Paris. Once we boarded the MV Northern Adventure, there was a scramble for the few electrical outlets available. Those in the know headed directly for their plug of choice while I hunted around under tables, not realizing that the few that existed were located high up the walls. I did manage to snag a table with an outlet in a corner of the cafeteria. Soon, a little girl joined me, and we shared the outlet. I learned that her parents and her brother and she have reservations for the same tour to Louise Island that we have. We talked of past ferry crossings—the good and the bad. As the ship slipped across Hecate Strait, the sun came out in spots, creating a bright, misty cast to the islands we passed. While Jake dozed in an armchair, I explored the ship, talking to fellow passengers. At 5:00 pm, the ferry pulled into the harbor after a smooth crossing. Only later did I read that Hecate Strait is “arguably the most dangerous body of water on the coast.” We shared the only taxi in town with a man from Zurich who had come up after visiting his elderly aunt in Vancouver. Our tour of the village of Queen Charlotte CIty lasted about three minutes, as it is only a couple of blocks long. While I went to the Visitor Center to learn what would be going on during our visit, Jake checked into Gracie’s Place, a funky little house overlooking the bay. Our room is cluttered with tchotchkes but is very clean; a fresh breeze blows through the windows. We had a disappointing dinner at Howler’s Pub, where we sat at the bar and ordered pizza from the restaurant on the Lloor above: the pizza was thick and doughy and the bar service inattentive. As we walked back to Gracie’s, we saw a Lloatplane landing in front of the small Inland Air ofLice below. We went down to speak to the pilot, hoping to join a Llight to see the UNESCO site at Ninstints. 23

Haida Gwaii Imagine glimpsing into a culture that is more than 3,000 years old. This is what awaits those who venture to Haida Gwaii . It is truly one of the most remarkable places on the face of the planet; it is a place that touches your soul. â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Northern BC Travel poster

Friday, August 21 Haida Gwaii, BC The morning was Line and still, the small boats in the harbor creating mirror reLlections. We were anxious to get out and take advantage of the beautiful weather but were disappointed to discover that there were no cars available to rent. After Jake called several places and Gracie tried other possibilities, we hired Dick Bellis (his Haida name is Skil Qâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;uas, appropriately meaning â&#x20AC;&#x153;lucky object that is foundâ&#x20AC;?), a grandfatherly

Haida carver and guide recommended yesterday by Maureen at the Visitor Center. While Jake waited for him to pick us up, I walked to the center and was pleased that Maureen was again on duty. I also met Mark Kernaghan from Seattle, a gregarious and enthusiastic advocate for all things Haida Gwaii who is a frequent visitor. With their assistance, I secured both a rental car for Sunday and a taxi to the ferry tomorrow.

Dick pulled up to the Center in a dusty Dodge van and we took off for a three-hour tour of the Queen Charlotte City and Skidegate areas. Dick was full of stories about his family and of Haida life and customs. While Jake asked questions, I sat in the back and took notes. Dick explained that because they are an isolated island people, the Haida have a culture and language like no other. There are two clans, Raven and Eagle, and the two cannot intermarry. Dick said that he is an Eagle and happens to also be half Welsh. One of his daughters married a Maori, a tattooed aborigine from New Zealand. His son Bill is a master carver; Dick showed us the

large welcome sign Bill carved for Skidegate bearing Haida symbols. He drove us down a gravel logging road into the forest where we stopped at the workshop of Gary, maker of bentwood cedar boxes. Gary is originally from Vancouver but came to Haida Gwaii thirty years ago seeking a simpler life. An attractive Haida woman named Tanya was with him; he had taught her the bentwood box-making craft as well. The two told us how the boxes are constructed and showed us examples of each step in the process. They explained that the Haida have used these boxes as funerary receptacles but now they have been adapted for other uses. 27

Dick drove us to a tidal Llat at Kagan Bay. I got out to look around and saw deer bones and shells strewn about the beach. Dick explained how the Haida might use the various bones as tools. In his culture, anything that is killed is used as completely as possible and what remains is left for the birds and animals.

Dick next showed us a logging site where we saw stacks of cedar and spruce logs, many as much as four feet in diameter. He told us that he had been involved in the logging business as a diesel mechanic for 35 years and admitted that many of the trees that are cut down are Lirst growth trees that are more than 500 years old. The Haida own 51% of the trees on the island, and although they are taught to respect all life, logging brings in good money. It is fortunate that the southernmost part of Haida Gwaii has been designated as parkland and is thus protected from the scourge of clear-cutting that we saw evidenced here.

Nearby, we pulled up to a small hut nearly buried in thick vegetation, and Dick honked the horn. Out came a slight, unassuming man in a sleeveless teeshirt with thick braided hair. Dick introduced him as Michael Brown, an argillite carver who referred to Dick as “Uncle.” At Dick’s request, Michael brought out a remarkable argillite Llute that he had made. He also showed us a small carving that he was working on that told the Haida story of human creation. According to legend, Raven found himself alone one day on Rose Spit in Haida Gwaii. He saw an extraordinary clamshell; protruding from it were small human beings. Raven coaxed them to leave the shell and join him in his world. Some of the humans were hesitant at Lirst, but they were overcome by curiosity and eventually emerged from the partly open clamshell to become the Lirst Haida. Michael had almost completed the clamshell but had yet to carve the Raven. We were taken with the beauty of the tiny piece, and with the buttery feel of the carved shell.

I asked Dick to pose for a picture with Thom, a Live-foot tall bear that he had carved twenty-Live years ago that now guards the road to Skidegate. We continued around this predominately Haida community, while Dick told us about the totem poles that stand in front of many of the modest houses. We stopped at the Haida cemetery, but remained respectfully outside; a man entering shared with me that his motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s headstone would be erected tomorrow. Finally, Dick took us by his own home and showed us the carvings in his yard and workshop.

We had asked Dick to drop us off at the home of Haida jewelry maker James McGuire, recommended by Maureen. Dick said he would be happy to wait for us outside. James lives in a clapboard house with three friendly dogs that Dick refused to get near. He preferred to wait in the car while we went inside. I am not sure what I was expecting, but Jamesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s unassuming, friendly nature was disarming, in spite of his signiLicant reputation as a master craftsman. We enjoyed talking to him about many subjects, from cameras to chanterelles. We asked him about commissioning a silver bracelet and were pleased that he was willing to work with us to create a special design for me.

Our time with Dick concluded when he dropped us off at the Haida Heritage Center. The Haida Center is located at á¸´ay Llnagaay and is the premier museum of the Haida people. It is housed in an award-winning building that opened in 2007. The Lirst phase of the project was the raising of six poles, representing the six primary Haida villages, in front of each of the stylized longhouse buildings. We were able to watch carvers working on a new pole and learn about the ancient processes involved in carving, painting, and raising these beautiful works. Later, we enjoyed going through the museum but were disappointed that the sections in which we were most interestedâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;argillite and weavingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; were temporarily closed. We had dinner at the Kay Bistro in the Center, reputed to be one of the best restaurants on the islands. 34

At 6:15 pm, we gathered with others in the totem room of the museum to witness a Haida Robe Release Ceremony. Maureen, our Visitor Center friend, had recommended we not miss it. She explained that such a ceremony is normally reserved for family and close friends, and it would be very meaningful for us to see it. Master weaver Evelyn Vanderhoop worked for nearly three years to create a traditional Naaxiin (Chilkat) robe for a commission in Kansas, and the ceremony was held to celebrate its release from the loom. The evening began when museum curator Nika Collison welcomed the guests in the melodic Haida language. Next, a Haida chief gave some words of welcome. Evelynâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s aunt delivered a prayer, inviting each person present to come to the deep place where love and peace reside. She called on the spirit guides, angels, and ancestors to guide the blanket to its Linal destination. Before the release of the robe, Evelyn told us that she felt both joy and sadness as her work on the robe comes to an end. She thanked her daughter and a friend who each spun 500 yards of merino wool warp, and she remembered her own

mother, Delores Churchill, who had been her inspiration. As drumming and chanting commenced, Evelyn and her daughter began to cut the robe from the loom. Once the robe was freed, the loom was taken away and the robe was draped over Evelynâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shoulders. She danced slowly and elegantly, gently twirling so that the fringe Llared out from her body. Her daughter then wore the robe and danced. Afterwards, Evelyn presented her daughter with a silver bracelet that had once belonged to her own mother. And so, celebrated with gifts and embraces and a large cake, the tradition continues. We felt grateful to have witnessed this illustration of the Haida sense of community and family. Honoring and respectful of one another, they seem to be universally welcoming to outsiders. It is apparent that they try to live what they teach. After the festivities, Mark and his friend Phillip dropped us at the second of our three hotels on Haida Gwaii, the Premier Creek Guest House, where Lenore, the owner, welcomed us. She showed us to a homey room and provided us with freshly baked blueberry mufLins to take on the ferry tomorrow.

This photo is by Geoff Horner, as Evelyn asked that only he take pictures during the ceremony.

A Naaxiin Robe Released

Saturday, August 22 Haida Gwaii, BC Our alarm went off at 6:00 am on a grey morning for our trip to Louise Island. We took a taxi in steady rain to Skidegate Terminal. We were the Lirst ones thereâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the ofLice was not even open. Others began arriving at 7:30 for the 20-minute ferry to Alliford Bay on Moresby Island aboard the MV Kwuna. As we crossed the channel, the island was shrouded in a chilly mist. I could imagine how the earliest Haida people must have felt as they crossed to the mystical southern island of Moresby.

Today we would be joining Moresby Explorers for a circumnavigation of Louise Island, the third largest island of the archipelago. Owner Heron Wier and his newest employee, Shila, met us at the dock and loaded the ten of us into a waiting van. We signed the obligatory waivers and Heron drove us 18 miles along a logging road, calling ahead by radio to ensure we did not encounter a logging truck barreling along in the opposite direction on the single-lane road. Heron told us about the islandâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s logging operation as

we drove along, explaining how the logs were marked, sorted, and dumped in the water to transport them. Some of the Sitka spruce logged there was used during WWII to make the deHaviland Mosquito bombers that were resistant to German radar. We saw ugly clear-cut areas and young cedar saplings that were planted in white tubes to protect them from deer. It will, however, take hundreds of years for those saplings to approach anything like the size of the trees they are replacing. 41

Forty-Live minutes brought us to Moresby Camp, where Heron and Shila distributed heavy rain gear and gummy boots to each of us and explained how to put them on. By the time we layered our Lleece, puff jackets, rain parkas, rubber waders and jackets, donned our life jackets, and put on those heavy boots, Jake and I felt like drunken Michelin Men. Heron and Shila brought the Zodiac down to the water and showed the group how to climb aboard. After we were settled in our seats, off we went, bouncing over the water at up to 28 miles an hour. With the wind in our faces, the layers felt pretty good. It was only when we lumbered off the boat and staggered to the shore that we felt hot and awkward.

Heron cut the engine at the old Arrow Logging Camp; the pilings that supported the terminus of a logging train track were still evident. We also paused at a limestone island where we saw a Llock of birds along a rocky outcrop.

Close to 1:00 pm, we arrived at the highlight of our tour, the Haida village site of Skedans. Skedans was one of the larger villages in the southern portion of the islands and is now a part of the Haida Heritage Site. The village was abandoned in the 1880s after a smallpox epidemic killed off nearly the entire population. Now there are weather-beaten totem poles, fallen and tilted, and the decaying remains of Haida buildings. After lunch on the beach (corn and bean salad and minced salmon sandwiches) Shila

and Sarah, former and current Haida Watchmen, led us through the village site along a path marked by clamshells. They explained the signiLicance of the carvings on the remaining mortuary and memorial poles and described the once active life in the village. The stillness of the site, once so vibrant, and the crumbling poles succumbing to the ravages of wind and encroaching vegetation made one naturally speak softly and walk with a gentle step.

Skedans in 1878 â&#x20AC;¦ and Today 48

Eventually we put on our heavy gear and returned to the boat. Heron brought the Zodiac around the island to Mathers Creek, where once again, we clumsily disembarked. Jake and I had made the mistake of leaving our shoes in the van and were thus forced to hike over the rocky beach in those uncomfortable boots. Heron led us through a lush cedar rainforest where we saw late 19th century gravestones moldering under layers of moss. The Haida who were buried there had been exposed to the inLluence of missionaries: I saw one stone with the inscription, â&#x20AC;&#x153;He tried to be a Christian.â&#x20AC;? As we continued through the rainforest, we came upon the remains of a WWII logging operation, now covered with moss and vegetation. Even the metal machine parts were returning to nature.

As we boarded the Zodiac for the last part of our trip, the rain Linally caught up with us, pelting us with needle-sharp drops. I turned around to face backwards, which really helped, and took a photo of poor Jake, huddled down in his seat, resolutely holding on to the hood of his rubber jacket to keep it from blowing off. I teased Heron that if I posted this picture on Trip Advisor, it would certainly not do anything to encourage others to sign up. But the rain was a small inconvenience; it had been a remarkable day and one that enriched our appreciation of the beauty and culture of the islands. After our 50-nautical-mile circuit,

we returned to the camp and turned in our rubber rain gear. I felt like I had shed twenty years after I took off those boots. Heron drove us to the pier where he had arranged for a water taxi to return us to Graham Island. Later, Jake and I relaxed over salmon sushi and a couple of Kirins at Sapporo Restaurant before returning to Premier Creek Guest House to pick up our bags. But when we got there, Lenore told us that Mike, from Dorothy & Mikeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Guest House, had picked them up for us earlier. We were grateful that we did not have to lug them up a steep hill to our new lodgings that night.

Sunday, August 23 Haida Gwaii, BC At 9:00 am, Bob from Gwaii Taxi met us at the guesthouse with a Buick Allure that was ours for the day. After we dropped him off at his house, we headed north—surprisingly, the road is still designated TCH 16, the Yellowhead Highway. We drove though the Haida community of Skidegate, retracing the area where Dick had taken us on Friday. Many of the town’s 720 residents are well known artists and carvers whose Line work is evident in the poles erected in front of homes and community buildings. I noted a 1970s longhouse that is home to the Skidegate Haida Immersion Program. Its mission is to revive and preserve this unique language that is so quickly dying out. We drove along the waterfront on the eastern side of the island, enjoying the forested scenery and glimpses of beach; we

remembered to watch out for deer, which have become a hazard to drivers. At Tlell, a small artist and ranching community of 200 residents, we almost missed the Crow’s Nest, a popular café and organic grocery on the landside of the highway. When we pulled up and parked, there was no one in sight, but as soon as it turned 10:00, the place Lilled to overLlowing. I can’t remember ever having breakfast and dessert at the same meal, but that is just what we did. We could not resist the baked goods displayed in the case and after a full breakfast, Jake had a slice of rhubarb pie and I had a lemon square. Sometimes, rules should be broken. We stopped at the Sunday Farmer’s Market, where we found organic produce, fresh bread warm from the oven, and Dick Bellis, who was there selling his carvings.

From Tlell, the road crosses the island to the west side, and we passed through Port Clements and drove to the northernmost point of the island at Old Massett. As we explored an oval formed by Raven and Eagle streets, we appreciated the intricate poles in front of homes, schools, and community buildings. 58

Memorial pole for Ernie Collison (Skilay), spokesman for the golden spruce, carved by Jim Hart and erected in 2003.

Memorial pole for Margaret Ethel Hewer, who chose the ButterUly as the repatriation symbol for the Haida people. 59

At the end of the street, we found the carving shed of Chief James Hart, great-grandson of perhaps the greatest Haida carver, Charles Edenshaw. Among several major works in progress, we saw his monumental sculpture of the killer whale commissioned by the Vancouver Canucks hockey team.

Behind Hartâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s home and down a dirt road through dense forest, we came upon a place sacred to the Haida. In 2004, the remains of more than 450 ancestors were repatriated to Haida Gwaii after agreements were reached between the Haida people and museums and collectors from around the world. These remains have now been returned to the land from which they came. We found it deeply moving to see the simple white crosses that marked these graves, most of which were returned by the Field Museum in Chicago. 62

At the suggestion of both Mark from Seattle and Maureen at the Visitor Center in Charlotte City, we visited Sarahâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Haida Arts & Jewelry on Eagle Street in Old Massett. Her selection of gold and silver Haida jewelry is unparalleled. We were impressed by the work of Carmen Goertzen (T lajung nung kingaas) who was born in 1963; we had tried to meet him, but when I called, his son told me he was resting. I bought a dramatic silver bracelet carved by Carmen with the Frog (the Communicator) surrounding the band.

Hitchhiking is not only permitted on Haida Gwaii, it is encouraged. 65

We began our drive south, deviating down an active logging road for three or four miles from Port Clements to the Golden Spruce Trailhead. Signs along the way led us the through a moss-carpeted cedar and spruce forest to the edge of the Yakoun River, where we found what remains of the unique golden spruce that once stood “glowing like gold.” Held sacred by the Haida people, it was felled in 1997 by extreme environmentalist Grant Hadwin. Jake and I were captivated by the story of the tree as told in John Vaillant’s The Golden Spruce.

I didn't enjoy butchering this magniLicent old plant, but you apparently need a message and wake-up call, that even a university trained professional should be able to understand. . . . I mean this action, to be an expression of my rage and hatred towards university trained professionals and their extremist supporters, whose ideas, ethics, denials, part truths, attitudes, etc., appear to be responsible, for most of the abominations, towards amateur life on this planet. â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Grant Hadwin 68

The Golden Spruce

Next to St. Markâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Heritage Church in Port Clements, we saw a seedling from the famed tree, a gift to Port Clements by the Haida Nation. It is safely encased within a chain-link cage. Before returning to Queen Charlotte, Jake pulled over, allowing me to run down to the beach and take a photo of Balance Rock, resting precariously on the rocky shore.

Returning to Skidegate, we gassed up the rental car and determined that we had driven more than 170 miles today. By the time we got back into Queen Charlotte, it was raining hard. Earlier in the day, we had discussed trying to Lind Michael Brownâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s little place and asking him about the argillite clamshell he had brought out when we were there with Dick Bellis. But with the rain, we debated about the propriety of honking at his home and asking him to come out. However, we decided to give it a try, Liguring that he could always ignore us. He didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. He popped his head out and ran up and got in the back seat of our car. We discussed the purchase

of the clam that he was working on, since in his artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mind, it was not Linished. We determined that rather than his carving a three-dimensional Raven, he would somehow incise it on the top of the shell. All three of us were happy with that solution and Jake and I arranged to pick it up in the morning before we head to the ferry. Later we tried a couple of places for dinner but both were hot and crowded; we decided instead to have snacks and drinks back at the guesthouse. While Jake discussed Canadian-Haida relations with our host, I chatted with Mae and Maki, a Japanese couple, about our common experiences climbing Mt. Fuji.

Monday, August 24 to Prince Rupert, BC At 8:00 am, we were at the opening in the hedge leading to Michael Brown’s home. He was waiting for us and ran up to the car, holding the clam. He had done a beautiful job of carving Raven’s head into the top of the shell, adding a tiny abalone eye and a larger round stone to represent the moon in its beak. We were pleased with this unique piece from our new friend, who has lessons to teach about simplicity, humility, and gratitude. From there, it was a ten-minute drive to the ferry. We parked on the street and, as Bob had instructed, left the keys on the sun visor and the doors unlocked. Only on Haida Gwaii does one worry about a raven stealing one’s belongings rather than a person. At 10:00, we were

underway to Prince Rupert, again on the MV Northern Adventure, arriving at 5:00 pm. When we checked into the Crest Hotel for the second time, the clerk informed us that we had been upgraded to a suite, a large corner bedroom with windows on two sides and an immense bathroom with a two-person Jacuzzi. It was a treat to be so pampered after our simple quarters on Haida Gwaii. We went down for drinks, sitting at the bar in Charley’s Lounge. We decided to stay for dinner at the hotel’s Waterside Restaurant where we had a cozy table with a 180-degree view of the harbor and the freshest of wild salmon and halibut. It was just about perfect.

Tuesday, August 25 Aboard MV Matanuska After breakfast at the hotel, we redeemed the car and drove to the Alaska Ferry Terminal, arriving just after 8:30 am. We secured our tickets, Lilled out a US Customs declaration, got in line to clear customs, and were in our lane for boarding the ferry by 9:45. We actually boarded at 11:30, the third to last car. We were impressed by the organization of the vehicles on board, determined by the port where each would be disembarking. We will call at three ports (Ketchikan, Wrangell, and Petersburg) before we arrive in Juneau, thirty hours from departure. When we were in Alaska the Lirst time in 2009, we traveled south on the MV Matanuska from Ketchikan to Prince Rupert. This time we have a cabin, since we will be on board all night and well into

tomorrow. After exploring each deck and taking in the views, we returned to our room to read, write, and nap. We were pleased to learn that rather than reaching Ketchikan at 10:00 pm, the ferry was due into port at 5:30. That was good news for us, as we were not expecting to be able to go into town at all. While we watched our ship approach the harbor, my phone rang. It was Carmen Goertzen calling. Sarah at Haida Arts had told him that I had tried to call him and had bought his silver frog bracelet. We had a congenial conversation. I told him that I enjoy meeting artists because it adds a special dimension to an item that I own. He asked me if his call would sufLice and I assured him that it would; at least until the next time that I am on Haida Gwaii.

Ketchikan As we disembarked at Ketchikan, we saw a man wearing a Rand Paul teeshirt who was offering a return shuttle service. We paid $10 apiece, got our hands stamped, and climbed aboard for the ten-minute ride into town. We walked along the Creek Street boardwalk and along the deserted streets, Linding all the tourist stores closed. There were no cruise ships in port and the place was nearly a ghost town. The fellow who had driven us into town told us that there are more than a million cruise ship visitors a year, bringing in $50 million in tax revenue alone. So it is no wonder that the shops donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t make much of an effort when there are no big ships in town. I had the feeling that Ketchikan was looking shabbier that it had six years ago when we were last here. But it certainly

was a lot quieter. We stopped for a couple of beers at the Sourdough Bar, which I would have described as a local hangout, had it not been for its convenient location to the cruise ship dock. We could go back to the ferry at 8:00 or 9:30 pm; just as we were thinking that 8:00 would be enough time, we saw that Annabelleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s looked pretty lively and decided to go there for dinner. Raw oysters and Alaskan halibut tacos were a good choice and the atmosphere reassured us that Ketchikan is still alive and well. The shuttle was to pick us up at our designated meeting place at 9:30. I nudged Jake to get there early and we were glad that we did. At 9:20, the bus pulled up and by 9:25 we were gone; anyone who happened to show up at the stated meeting time was out of luck. 75

Wednesday, August 26 to Juneau, Alaska I was surprised that we slept as well as we did in the bunks in our tiny cabin aboard the Matanuska. We missed the ship’s brief call at Wrangell at 4:30 am, but managed to get up to the deck to take photos when we pulled into Petersburg at 8:15 am. We are again enjoying beautiful weather, with sunny skies and calm waters. After breakfast, we adjourned to the observation lounge to read and write. Suddenly, someone called out, “Whales!” Indeed, we were sailing past a pod of orcas and I quickly ran out to the deck to see them blowing and cavorting off the starboard side. Although they were too far away to photograph well, we watched them frolicking together, blowing and diving. At 5:00 pm we reached Juneau. We got the car and drove ten miles into town to Alaska’s Capital Inn B&B adjacent to the State Capitol Building. The 1906 Arts &

Crafts house was once the home of gold rush pioneer John Olds, and where we stayed six years ago. I remembered Linda Wendeborn as soon as she opened the door; she had been very kind to me after my nasty fall in 2009. We settled into Viola’s Room on the Lirst Lloor and then joined her in the dining room for a glass of wine. She gave us several dinner suggestions; we decided to try the Rookery, an unassuming café with a growing reputation. Chef Beau Schooler was nominated for the James Beard Foundation’s “Rising Star of the Year” award and recently won the Great American Seafood Cook-off in New Orleans. Our waitress described him as “The Fish Whisperer.” Our perfectly cooked salmon was ample proof. After dinner, we walked around the downtown area, determining where we might return tomorrow.

Petersburg 77

Thursday, August 27 Juneau, AK Our bed in Viola’s room was cozy and comfortable but we woke to a chilly drizzle; the weather forecast showed 100% chance of rain for the next 5 days in both Juneau and Sitka, where we go next. Ugh. Out came the rain gear, but the good news was that we didn’t have to wear rubber waders and gummy boots. At 8:00 am, we emerged from our downstairs room directly into the dining room, attractively set with Depression Era green glass plates and red napkins. Linda had prepared a sumptuous breakfast for her ten guests: two couples from the Bay area, one couple from Austin, and two Japanese women. Linda had prepared eggs with maple sausages, corn and date mufLins, and fresh fruit. Joining us at the table, she shared stories about herself: she is a licensed marriage ofLiciant, a natural history buff, a survival training instructor, and a holistic medicine practitioner. All this made for interesting conversation. After packing the car, we walked down to the Juneau-Douglas City Museum. One area of focus that we particularly enjoyed was Juneau's early mining history. The 1931 State Capitol building is being renovated, preventing us from going inside, but we did take a photo of the exterior. We drove around the downtown area; the shops near the cruise ships were crowded with customers, most of them carrying the same red Alaska Shirt Company bags that I commented on when we were here in 2009. We noticed that the nearer to the ships the shops are, the junkier they appear to be. But there were no bargains. At the Alaska Trading Post, gold and silver bracelets were carelessly stacked up on the shelves; I asked the price of a gold one and was shocked that it was $4500. We had planned to spend this rainy day at the Alaska State Museum but discovered that it is closed until Spring 2016. We did visit the Sealaska Heritage Institute’s Walter Soboleff Center for Southeast Native Culture, which opened in May of this year. It is an attractive building, and there is a small exhibit room that is now showcasing the costumes of the Haida, Tsimshian, and Tlingit. Although we had 6:30 pm reservations for dinner at Salt, another of Juneau’s newer restaurants, we dropped in early, taking advantage of happy hour prices. Besides, it was a good opportunity to get out of the

rain. We shared Alaskan crab toast, followed by salmon and halibut, with a fresh Alsatian Pinot Blanc. Our early dinner also enabled us to check in early at Grandma’s Feather Bed Inn, located near the ferry terminal. We need to be at the terminal by 5:30 tomorrow morning for our 6:30 am departure to Sitka.

South Franklin Street District 80

Alaska State Capitol

Walter Soboleff Center for Southeast Native Culture

Friday, August 28 to Sitka, AK I woke up just in time to cut off the 3:45 am alarm, as I couldn’t bear the thought of hearing it at that hour. Our morning ritual was somewhat complicated by the wide tub dominating the room, the entering of which was reminiscent of negotiating our Zodiac around Louise Island. Jake’s comment that we should “commence the boarding process” was an accurate description. A shuttle van picked us up at Grandma’s Inn at 5:15 am and by 5:45 we had found our seats aboard the MV Chenega, a 235foot catamaran. Along with us were large groups of high school crosscountry and volleyball players who arranged themselves into sociable groups, playing board games, giggling with each other, or listening to

music like experienced ferry travelers, which undoubtedly they are. The ship was unusually crowded. Yesterday’s winds and foul weather had necessitated the suspension of ferry service and those who had been unable to travel were on the ferry today. Our route took us south along the Chatham Strait and then through a series of turns and maneuvers along narrow passes to the west of Baranof Island before we docked at Sitka at 11:15 am. Sitka is on the ocean side of the Inside Passage in an area dotted with lush islands of hemlock and spruce. It was once the hub of Russian America where Russian colonists established their capital of New Archangel (Novo Arkhangelsk) in 1808.

We bought round trip tickets for the shuttle to town, which dropped us off at the Super 8 Motel at 12:15 pm. Since we could not check in until 2:00, we stored our bags and walked into town in a steady rain. Along Lincoln Street, we poked into shops and I tired to quickly take photos of St. Michaelâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Cathedral without getting rain on the camera lens. We noted Log Cache; the building, designated Russian American Building No. 29, is in one of only four surviving original Russian buildings in the US. We will see the second one tomorrow. The streets were quiet (no cruise ships) and we enjoyed comparing Haida and Tlingit art styles and prices in the galleries that we passed. At Fishermenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Eye Gallery, we asked about the work of Sitka wood engraver Dale DeArmond, and owner Vern Culp brought out a binder of her enchanting prints. Eventually, he revealed that he had some of her original engraved blocks; we were interested to see them. We especially liked Mother of Ravens, and decided to buy it.

Alaska Pioneer Home 84

Dale Burlison DeArmond was born on July 2, 1914, in Bismarck, North Dakota, moving to Tacoma, Washingon, at a young age. On July 29, 1935, she married Bob DeArmond, whom she met in high school. After their marriage, they lived on a 37-foot troller for two years before moving to the small village of Pelican. In 1944, she moved to Ketchikan with her husband and from there to Sitka in 1949. She moved to the Alaska Pioneer Home in Sitka with her husband in 1991 where she continued her art for several years before her death on November 28, 2006. 85

Pioneer Bar

We walked to Ludvig’s Bistro located across from the harbor on Katlian Street where we were able to secure dinner reservations for 5:15 pm. We had enjoyed this tiny Mediterranean restaurant on our last visit to Sitka. After returning to the motel to register and settle in our room, we walked back to Ludvig’s where I had the halibut and Jake ordered seafood paella. After dinner, we stopped at the nearby Pioneer Bar for a drink. The music was loud, the air was smoky, and the atmosphere was genial. Photographs of Lishing vessels covered the walls. On the bar we noticed a collection jar for “The Diaz Family.” Sadly, the two Diaz brothers were killed a week ago in Sitka when a mudslide engulfed a house they were painting. The slide was caused when 2.5-inches of rain fell within a 24-hour period; the media called the rain a 50-year occurrence, which is saying a lot in a place that has an average annual precipitation of nearly 312 inches. On the way back to the motel, we also checked out Ernie’s Old Time Saloon, where we sat at the bar and listened to local talk.

Saturday, August 29 Sitka, AK Breakfast at the Super 8 was limited, but we had coffee before setting out under an overcast sky. It started to drizzle as we walked along the waterfront to the Sitka National Historical Park Visitor Center. We enjoyed an exhibit on The Tlingit and visited the adjoining Cultural Center where we talked to artist Roy Levine, born to a Swiss father and an Alutiiq mother and brought up in Ouzinkie, a village near Kodiak. We didn’t feel like strolling in the rain though Totem Pole Park; instead we went to the Sheldon Jackson Museum, located on the former campus of Sheldon Jackson College. The museum was founded in 1887, making it the Lirst museum in the state. Many of the artifacts were collected by Rev. Jackson during his travels through rural Alaska. As in 2009, we enjoyed going through the cases and drawers that hold the museum’s amazing collections, this time concentrating on the Haida, Tlingit, and Aleut peoples. We agreed that the stunning argillite bowl by Charles Edenshaw (1839–1920), master Haida carver, was the item we would have carried out under our coats. It was a short walk to the second of four surviving original Russian buildings in the US, the Russian Bishop’s House. Built in

1841-43, the log structure was one of the centerpieces of the Russian Orthodox Church's efforts to spread its inLluence among the natives of Alaska. It was the home and administrative ofLice of Ivan Veniaminov, the Lirst Bishop of Alaska, who was subsequently canonized as Innocent of Alaska. Since we had taken a tour of the house on our last visit, we remained on the Lirst Lloor and watched the excellent introductory video. As we passed St. Michael’s Cathedral, we saw that the doors were open and went inside to see the icons and liturgical items on display. Unfortunately, the original cathedral burned to the ground in 1966. The parish was established in 1844 and at one time had as many as 800 members. Today, there are only about 50 remaining. Since we’d missed breakfast, we ordered huge sandwiches across the street at Homeport Eatery; we had to carry half of our order back with us. Before returning to the hotel, we stopped for a beer at the Westmark Restaurant. Back in our room, we watched the weather change from sun to rain and back again before a deluge started for real, leaving us wondering about the likelihood of a ferry delay tomorrow.

The Tlingit

argillite bowl by Charles Edenshaw

Sheldon Jackson Museum 92

The Russians in Sitka

Sunday, August 30 to Juneau, AK The high wind advisory this morning made Jake think he’d better call the Alaskan Marine Highway to see if the ferry would be departing on schedule for Juneau. Since the Chenega was already underway to Sitka, things looked promising. After coffee and toast in the motel lobby, we waited for the terminal shuttle to pick us up. Once it arrived, the ferry made a quick turnaround and we were underway at 12:30 pm. The high winds advisory must have been called off, because we learned from a crewmember that the Chenega is a catamaran and is prohibited from cruising when the waves are above Live feet. This time, we were accompanied by the volleyball contingent of the Juneau high school sports teams that came over with us on Friday. I chatted with a man who was returning to North Pole, Alaska, where he has started farming after retiring from the National Guard. I asked him about the growing season and what he farmed; he told me that he grew hay, primarily for goats, and that the growing season is pretty short. We encountered a few swells on the way back to Juneau, but the trip was generally smooth. As we cruised along, the rain gave way to a swirling mist over the tops of the surrounding hills. The only thing we saw was the occasional Lishing boat. We arrived at 5:30 pm and got on the shuttle, returning to Grandma’s Inn to get our car. Back in town, we found that the Capital Inn was hosting a book reading and there was no place to park, so we drove down the hill and had a local draft at the Alaskan Hotel. Dating from 1913, the hotel is loaded with character. We sat at the bar and listened to the Downtown String Band until they Linished their set at 7:00 or so. Returning to the car, we passed the Haa Shagóon Gallery, a showcase for local Tlingit artists. I saw a hand-carved Tlingit halibut hook that was around 100 years old, which was really neat. We will return in the morning to talk to the man who found it. Later we shared salmon and halibut at the Hanger on the Wharf, scene of my nasty fall back in 2009, although I could not Ligure out how it had happened since the place looked totally different. When we returned to the Capital Inn, we found that Linda had left a note telling us to come on in. The Capital really feels like home. She had left chamomile tea and macaroons out for us. 94

Monday, August 31 Juneau, AK The rain was relentless today. We had a quiet breakfast with Linda, who made smoked salmon omelets with ham and fruit. At 9:45 am, we said our good-byes and drove out to the Rie Muñoz Gallery in Juneau's Mendenhall Valley. Owner Juan Muñoz had located a print of Mother of Ravens, which we had been hoping to Lind to accompany the original wood block we bought in Sitka. The print he offered had been handcolored by DeArmond; we were very pleased with it. Returning to town, I went to the Haa Shagóon Gallery, but was disappointed to Lind that Ray Peck, owner of the Tlingit halibut hook that I had seen last night, was not in. Another carver in the gallery suggested that Ray might be “at his ofLice,” the bar/coffee shop across the street. Just as we stepped out of the gallery, along came Ray. He told me about the hook, saying that it had

been in his family for generations. He had taken it from his late father’s cabin in Angoon, a Tlingit town on Admiralty Island off Juneau. The hook is simply carved with a spirit form and has a nice patina. When I decided to buy it, Ray gave me a copy of a book he had illustrated about Gunakadeit, the legendary Tlingit sea animal who has “the smile of fortune.” Ray also painted panels of the legend for the small park nearby. Seeking salmon canning labels, Jake and I went to a print and sign shop that Linda recommended, located down a side alley. When we asked owner Daryl Miller if he had any labels, he showed us a framed set that belonged to his mother. He then made a phone call and after hanging up, presented us with a very nice label that was a duplicate from his collection. He insisted that we take it as a gift.

We drove back to the Mendenhall Valley for a tour of the Ted Stevens Marine Research Institute at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. NOAA Fisheries is responsible for the stewardship of the nation's ocean resources and their habitat. Our tour guide, Ralph Steeves, stressed that the earth’s climate is not just changing, but has already drastically changed. He took us through the facility, showing us the biology, chemistry, and necropsy labs, and explained how work there continues towards maintaining the sustainability of marine species. Ralph concluded by showing us Science in a Sphere, a 3D presentation illustrating the unprecedented climate change that is occurring in our time. We stopped at the viewing platform at Mendenhall Glacier, but the torrential rain precluded my getting out of the car for more than a brief glimpse; it was enough, however, to see the dramatic reduction in the size of the glacier in recent years. But it was interesting to Lind the numbers of tourists—from the three cruise ships in port—who donned those thin plastic ponchos and were out in spite of the miserable weather. We returned to town one more time to gas the car and have an early hamburger dinner at the Rookery before returning to Grandma’s Inn for another short pre-ferry night.

Mendenhall Glacier 99

Vol. 1