Everything needs to begin with a purpose. A reason. The formal declaration of "why"? So here is my purpose for publishing this blog, for sharing this portion of my life. Unfortunately its not really glamorous, and it is really selfish. I just need to hone my writing skills again. There are even more selfish reasons behind that one too but I don't need to go into them. The one purely altruistic motive is also to share my experiences up here in Alaska with family and friends, who still find it absolutely mind-boggling that a girl from South Jersey packed up her family out of their comfortable suburban life and moved to Alaska.
Even after four years, I still don't feel they believe we actually did it. Sometimes I wonder what mental illness caused me to abandon a tenured teaching position (believe me, in New jersey that is a big deal) to move here without promise of employment. And there are the mornings when I long for a cup of Wawa coffee or to go out to the diner for breakfast of creamed chip beef over home fries.
But Alaska is a siren. Homer may have had Alaska in mind when he composed the "Odysessy" for surely, once Odysseus had seen Alaska, no amount of homesickness or love would have ever brought him back to Ithaca. The mountains, the sheer vastness of this place, the wildness - they seep into your blood. For as many trappings of civilization there are here, there are many more reminders of just why this is still the Last Frontier. Just ask those four teenagers from the Lower 48 who were mauled by a grizzly sow last week while they were learning survival skills. I suspect that many of them never expected to put those skills to use so soon. But they did, and all survived.
There are many things I do love about this place. Seeing Illiamna and Redoubt, the two volcanoes visable from my front windows, glistening white in the mornings and glowing red/orange in the evenings still leaves me awestruck. Redoubt's massive eruption last April was one of the most amazing events of my life as a black cloud filled with streaks of yellow, red, and blue lightning slowly filled the early morning sky until grey ash covered the landscape. I love the silence that allows me to hear the trees creak in a breeze, the horses as they move through the grass, even the 4 a.m. sound of that crazy squeeky-toy rooster who has yet to find his true voice.
I've done many things that I would have never even considered if we still lived in New Jersey. I've camped on the beach to fish for salmon, ridden horses in the Chugach Mountains, snowmachined home from the top of my road with groceries when the road was closed by snow, helped my daughter raise a pig for 4H, and so many more wild and crazy things that are just a part of life here. Every day is different and brings about a new challenge, whether man-made or weather-related (and boy, do I have some weather-related tales to tell!)
Alaska is definately a different place to live. And yes, sometimes I do question myself for coming here, but those moments quickly fade when the horses amble over for a scratch or treat or one of the huskies pounces on me to play. If this is the one life we are to live, then why not fill it with experiences?
