Alaska

Paraglider taking off from Alyeska ~ August 2007




Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center ~ August 2007



Alyeska Ski Resort ~ August 2007

See if this link works:



Video and more pix coming soon...

Raffi survives attack

When we walk the wonder dog, we always have her on a leash. The leash is attached to a harness that keeps her secure without applying any uncomfortable pressure to any part of her body. And like a harness you might use to lift a human or perhaps a four-legged critter like a horse, you can actually lift the dog without harming it. I never thought about that until today...after the fact.

Although she's still quite fearful of nearly everything, Raffi has come a long way since we got her. She actually walks quite well. Yesterday, for example, she walked three miles in Kincaid Park without getting too freaked out by the other walkers and bikers. In fact, she learned a new command we now call, "Over-over", which means she needs to get off the path and sit right next to whichever one of us is walking her. We used that command when bikes came whistling by us again and again. And we used it with other walkers and joggers. She learned quickly.

Today we were walking in the neighborhood and all was going quite well. We saw a rather large, boisterous, noisy Lab-retriever type of hound loudly barking its way out to meet us on the street. I quickly picked Raffi up and held her close while spinning this way and that as the dog tried to make physical contact with Raffi, all the while barking his fool head off. Raffi was interested in the other dog, but appeared not to be overly concerned. We were very pleased with how she handled herself. A few blocks later, though, we were caught unprepared.

We were walking along on the sidewalk and saw a young man cleaning or working on his car. He was on the opposite side of the car as we approached, but we saw his head pop up and we exchanged hellos just as we passed. Just after saying hello, a large dog silently rushed out of the guy's garage and went for Raffi. Well Raffi took off like a jackrabbit (not a bad reaction actually) with me in tow. The guy started yelling and grabbing for his dog and I tried to reel in Raffi so I could pick her up. About this time yet another large dog bolted out of the garage and went for Raffi. So now we had three adults in a melee with three dogs.

At this point, Raffi was like a greased pig. She was darting and squirming and avoiding everyone and everything--including me! My wife was trying to help with Raffi but she couldn't really do anything. I was desperately trying to catch my dog and was wishing my wife would catch her before me. The other guy was desperately trying to control either of his dogs and was failing miserably. Raffi was trying to stay alive and the other dogs were trying to eat her.

Just as Raffi came within my reach, one of the dogs was just a fraction of a second faster than me and was just in the process of clamping his jaws down on Raffi's back. I didn't think; I just reacted and I pulled up hard on Raffi's leash. This probably saved her life. Much to my surprise, Raffi became airborne.

I think we were all a little startled. It was like flying a kite. She popped up in the air on the end of the leash and came up growling and snarling and snapping like some kind of rabid Tasmanian devil. Saliva and urine was going everywhere.

I think her instant upward mobility confused her predator just enough that the other dog didn't get a grip on her and I reeled Raffi in like a fish--except she was already airborne and it was something of a horizontal motion.

For the briefest portion of a second, I worried that when I grabbed her she'd bite the heck out of me, but as soon as she was in my arms, she knew she was safe and thankfully did not bite me. I cradled her in my arms as we hastily made our exit.

Once we got out of the killing zone, we checked her out and she was miraculously unharmed. We put her on the sidewalk and she busily walked on away almost as if nothing had happened.

Whew. That was a close one. Just the other day my flight doc told me a story about someone in his family having two dogs--a large dog and a Chihuahua. The two dogs got into a little tiff about food and the larger dog grabbed the smaller one and killed it. His description made quite a an impression on me. As soon as I saw that dog closing his jaws on Raffi's back, I saw that image in my mind. Ugh!

Anyway, all is now well and we all have a great tale to tell.

Charged by a moose

Mama Moose and her two calves near Kincaid Park

Today was an almost perfect Anchorage summer day...blue skies, sunshine, warm temps, and hardly a breeze. When the weather's like this, you just feel like really good things can happen. You have energy, drive, and great spirits. Although I had yard work to do, I decided that could wait and I jumped on my bike for a ride.

As I was cruising down a paved walk/bike path in a new subdivision we call the gravel pit, I looked to my left and saw the mountains;
I looked to my right and saw the forest; I cruised by the pond and looked for moose and other wildlife and I thought, Man, I do love it here. I was just thinking it would be a great day to see a moose when lo and behold, a large moose cow slowly emerged from the left (opposite) side of the road.

I gradually slowed to a stop and watched the moose. She was probably 60 feet away--maybe three truck lengths. She seemed in no hurry and had no calves about. Ignoring me, she continued across the road and disappeared around the upcoming corner.

The path I was on dead ends at a T-intersection with a fairly well-used two-lane city street. To my right, the ground slopes abruptly up and it's wooded. To my left, the ground slopes abruptly down. All along both sides of the 'T' ahead it's wooded.

Anyway, the moose crossed the road in front of me, then continued parallel to the 'T' and went out of sight because of the woods and the hill. I waited for what I thought was a reasonable amount of time. I watched the traffic going both directions along the 'T' to see if anyone slowed down markedly and I even got to see a guy on a bike riding along the 'T' from right to left. He looked back behind him once, but then turned around and continued on. I figured it was safe to continue. My plan was to cross over to the left side of the road away from where the moose had gone. I would then approach the 'T' intersection with my camera ready to snap a picture of a moose from a safe distance.

Little did I know there were two moose calves coming up the steep slope to my left as I approached the intersection. And little did I know mama moose was coming back in my direction to check on her little ones.

At this point an independent observer would have had one of those experiences you often see in the horror movies. You know, the ones where the naive character is creeping through the house and is about to open the scary door--the one we all know has the scary monster behind--the one we all know the character should not open. You know what I mean.

Well, sure enough, it was one of those perfect storm kinda moments. I had unintentionally threated the young calves. I did not see them coming up the slope to my left and did not see Mama coming around the trees from my right. When I did quite suddenly see Mama, she was--much to my horror--much closer than I would've ever guessed. I'm sure the feeling was mutual and I think Mama and I saw each other about the same time.

Mama moose took one look at me; I took one look at her; and we both reacted. I remember seeing her forelegs coming up quickly and her head sort of bobbing (like a horse when it runs). Despite the fact that I had camera in hand, I turned my bike around in Olympic-record-setting time and began pedaling frantically away. While I am absolutely positive I did not scream like a little girl, I did not actually hear the moose pounding the pavement behind me. However, I did take one quick look behind me for posterity and saw Mama slowing down from gallop to trot.

Now I must interject a little something about moose at this point. Moose are incredibly dangerous animals. While they don't have fangs or claws, they are large, unpredictable, and absolutely devoid of fear. I have heard several long-time Alaskans say they're more afraid of moose than bears. Moose have killed people by stomping them to death and they have totaled cars by the same method.

I was pretty confident I could outrun Mama on my bike, but just for the record...I would not say the same thing about bears. At any rate, once I thought I was out of danger, I paused to take a couple of pix. I kept my bike pointing downhill away from the moose trio and twisted my torso around to try to take the photos. I don't know why, but my hand was shaking. ;-)

Although the pictures were terrible, I'm quite confident this is the same moose family we took pictures of just a couple of days ago and I've posted their picture at the top of this post.



Another picture perfect day in Alaska.

Corporate heads...Are they all related to Satan?

Isn't it a bit on the evil side when corporate heads plead, cajole, and threaten the employees into taking large pay cuts and then reward themselves grotesquely in the process? I'm looking for the right (adult) word to use for these monsters and the only one that comes to mind is "icky".

Please visit this link


http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/06082007/watch.html



I hope you'll find it informative regardless of your views on unions, the transportation industry, or anything else.

What can we do as laypersons to combat this lack of morality?

The "American Embassy" in Seoul

For a number of reasons, I generally plan my meal times such that I'm eating at something other than prime time. However, today I was in a hurry and decided to get a quick meal at McDonald's (a.k.a. the American Embassy) about 5:00 p.m.

It was crowded as I took my place in line. The thing you have to remember in situations like these is that the American sense of personal space is different from the Asian sense of space. I know this, but sometimes forget--or perhaps I just hope the locals will respect my sense of space.

Not the case today.

Just as I would reach the general area of the counter, local folks would step in front of me and place their orders. After a short while I tired of this and forced myself to stand with my hands on the counter. This way, I established my position in line without having to stand quite so close to the counter. Besides, I can't get too close or I won't be able to read the signs.

I had decided I was going to try a new chicken based tortilla-wrapped thingy they now sell. I don't order fries any more; instead, I just order the sandwich itself. I'm under the impression that those fries are the intestinal equivalent of smoking a pack of cigarettes so I tend to skip that. However, when I got my turn to order and saw the look on the kid's face, I decided to make things simple for the teen who took my order.

"I'll have a number eight," I said, expecting to get the dreaded fries, a coke, and the chicken thingy.

"Number eight," he repeated in reasonable English and then turned to look at the signboard for confirmation. He dutifully plugged away at the cash register and took my money. He turned around to the food dispensing thing, grabbed my grub, set all my food on my tray, and pleasantly served me my number eight.

Or so I hoped.

Interestingly--and I don't know how they did this--I think I was actually served a Burger King Whopper with cheese.

You think I'm joking, but I tell you I'm pretty sure that's what I got. The thing they gave me included the bun, a big slab of hamburger, and the messiest conglomeration of lettuce, tomato, and God-only-knows what other condiments you can imagine. Sounds like a Whopper doesn't it?

One of the sauces they put on the Whopper was a red sauce that tasted vaguely like some kind of Tabasco. I really don't know what all they used for condiments. Because I'm adventurous, I ate about half the sandwich. When I couldn't take anymore, I attempted to cleanse the sandwich of everything but the meat and the bun. I didn't weigh the resulting mountain of garden- and condiment product I left on the tray, but it had to be about a pound and a half. Nasty.

All in all, it was a challenging, fatiguing meal to consume, but somehow I managed to get most of it down.

I know what you're thinking: Why didn't I show the young man the error of his ways from the beginning and ask for the chicken thingy? Although the shape of the paper wrapped "food" he put on my tray suggested I might be getting something other than what I ordered, it just wasn't worth the effort. Not with the language barrier and a whole crowd of Koreans standing uncomfortably close to me on all quadrants ("You orduh numba eight! You eat!").

Since the place was pretty much packed and people wanted my chair, I hurriedly wolfed down my Whopper (or most of it) like it was something I really liked and made ready my exit. On the way out I decided to give in to one of my true travel addictions--a McD's sundae.

As far as I'm concerned, whoever came up with this idea was a marketing genius. The McD's sundae generally tastes pretty darn good. It's a nice size for a snack. And best of all, it's generally about a buck. Except in our overpriced Alaska, where it's a buck fifty.

Anywho...I got my sundae after having a humorous exchange with a different teen regarding my desire to avoid the nuts this time--peanuts that is. She seemed to enjoy practicing saying the words 'no nuts' over and over again. I don't think she knew what it meant, but rather enjoyed how the words rolled off her tongue. At least she was smiling. She even shared the words with her friend who grinned broadly and said the words as well.

If there's a joke there, it's on me.

So I got my sundae sans nuts and departed the hordes for the walk back to the hotel. This particular McD's is located very near an outdoor market where they sell all manner of fresh produce, fish, and livestock parts. You can actually find things like an entire pig's head for sale there. No kidding.

Perhaps as a result of this proximity, you always see a number of enterprising folks selling their wares on the sidewalks near the area of the market. So when I walked out of McD's with my hot fudge sundae in hand, I was blasted with the muggy heat and the overpowering odor of "fresh" fish.

Although there's something about that combination of fresh fish and ice cream that doesn't seem to go together all that well, I managed to walk quickly through all the strata of the aromas, humidity, temperature, and cigarette smoke with desire for ice cream still strong on my palate.

Ah...fine dining on the road.

Guess it could be worse. Check this out:


That is supposedly a real picture from a real McDonald's. For some reason, the person who was served this fine meal was perturbed. As you can imagine, there are lawsuits involved. I'm not sure, but I believe the reason the connoisseur of fine chicken McNuggets was perturbed is because there was a real chicken head inside this breaded and deep-fried covering (http://salmonella.co.uk/chicken-mcnugget.html).

Personally, I think that's the finest looking chicken McNugget I've ever seen. It's about time they started making the darn things look real. In fact, maybe I should start a class action lawsuit against McD's for making their other nuggets look like...whatever it is they look like.

Who's with me?



Next stop: Alaska.

Lost in translation

For those of you who don't get out of your own country all that much, you may not be aware that when you go to another country and then launch yourself out into the rolling surf of the internet, the web pages appear in the language of the local country.

Let me see if I can paste an example below. My native tongue is English and my blog is in English, but here's how it looks in Korea.

You can click on the images to enlarge.



Let me try another one. This is the main log in page for Blogger...



Can you see how some of the characters are in English and some are in Korean? It can make your surfing more challenging.

Speaking of language problems, you know how it's not uncommon in America to find folks who display oriental script as artwork? In America, I've seen T-shirts, paintings or prints, and even stepping stones in gardens with beautiful oriental script displayed. But for most of us the question remains: just what are we displaying?

Here in Asia, I routinely see nonsensical combinations of English words displayed in similar fashion. And actually, it's just nonsensical to me. I need someone to translate the essence to me. Reminds me of going to England--I often clearly hear the words they're saying, but don't understand why they group them in the context they do. More on them another time.

My favorite little eating place in Shanghai is called XiLife.net. I haven't found a website associated with that name and don't know what it means. In general, it conveys something vaguely Chinese, vaguely positive in English, and the hip World Wide Web. Maybe that's enough.

We see T-shirts over here that are often amusing with their seemingly random concatenations of English terms, but what's more amusing are the risque ones. When you see an ancient Chinese woman wearing a T-shirt that screams: I like it on top! you have to wonder if she really knows what her shirt conveys.

Maybe she knows.