Only in Alaska: Celebrating solstice

by Catherine Bodry on

Before I moved to Alaska, I assumed that solstice celebrations were for druids and/or hippies, and imagined long-haired folks with crowns of leaves preforming incantations and ceremonies on both the longest and shortest days of the year. While there are no doubt spiritual observances of the elliptical path of the sun going on in Alaska, up here you’re just as likely to have a grocery store clerk wish you a “happy solstice.” Daylight here is more than passive background lighting; it dictates our moods, energy, and productivity, to say the least. Even travelers here for less than a week find themselves affected, if only because they can’t sleep at night for all the sunshine.

With nearly 24 hours of daylight in the summer, and nearly 24 hours of darkness in the winter, many Alaskans intently observe solstices. In summer, the day is both a celebration of all that fabulous daylight (better than any serotonin-enhancing drug, I assure you) and a bit of mourning for the fact that the day also marks the beginning of the sun’s retreat. In winter, we wholeheartedly celebrate the days getting longer, even though we won’t see normal daylight hours for months after either holiday.

A common way to ring in the longest day of the year is to climb a mountain and watch the sun circle the horizon rather than dip below it. If you’re looking for something more formal, plenty of organized, non-Druid celebrations are held across the state for summer solstice; following are a few ways you can honor the longest day of the year.

Moose Pass Solstice Festival: Only 25 miles from my home, the Moose Pass festival is where I’ll be shaking my booty when the sun finally sets at 11:45 p.m. (and quite possibly when it rises again a few short hours later). A tiny little celebration, the Moose Pass festival showcases local artists, and rain or shine, there’s sure to be some local bluegrass band playing next to a small beer garden.

Seldovia Summer Solstice Music Festival: Also in my region of the state, the Seldovia festival is all about the music. Because the town is off the road system, visitors will be treated to a show on the “trusty Tusty” (the ferry Tustemena) the Thursday before the festival.

Fairbanks Midnight Sun Festival: An entire weekend lined with events, the Midnight Sun festival includes a midnight baseball game (with no artificial lighting, of course), a 10k fun run (it begins at 10 p.m., so you can still watch the sunset – even if you have to walk it), and a street fair.

21st Annual AWAIC Summer Solstice Festival: Held by the Abused Women’s Aid in Crisis, this weekend-long street fair in Anchorage is likely one of the biggest in the state. With a line-up of musicians from the Lower 48, Anchorage’s streets will certainly be packed with both locals and tourists.

If you’re in a place where there’s no celebration, worry not. My favorite way to observe the day/night is to simply slap on some mosquito repellent, take a short hike, and watch the sun set, keeping an eye on the glowing horizon, waiting for the sun to rise again in the middle of the night.

Gadling Take FIVE — Week of May 30-June 5

by Jamie Rhein on

It’s a new month and we’ve started a few new series. With Gadlinks, we’re browsing other travel blogs to let you in on what caught our attention each day. Aaron and Brenda are at the helm of this one.

Also, Jon Bowermaster is back, but now he’s traveling where pirates tread on the Indian Ocean. You can follow him at Bowermaster’s Adventures.

We’ve also embarked on 10 passengers we love to hate series. Yes, “hate ” is a strong word. But, aren’t there certain passengers who drive you a bit bonkers? See who bugs us.

Here are five other posts to add to your travel news pleasure:

  • If you’re thinking of a national park this summer, read Alison’s post on which parks are free and on what days. It’s good to know specifics. Even if you do have to pay for admission, national parks are terrific deals.
  • Sean has been walking along the Thames near Oxford, a read that makes you want to take an English countryside stroll.
  • Perhaps a trip along the Rio Grande Valley captures your fancy. Kraig knows how you might win one by stopping in a Patagonia store.
  • And for anyone who wants to come to New York City, but wonders how safe it is, never fear, Tom has proof– thanks to Mayor Micheal Bloomburg, that the Big Apple is better than ever. I’m in NYC right now, and I’m much more comfortable walking here late at night than I am in Columbus, Ohio. There’s nothing wrong with Columbus at night, but here, the city is alive well after dark.

Wherever you are this weekend, I hope there’s something interesting going on to suit your fancy.

Only in Alaska: Combat fishing and the rules of engagement

by Catherine Bodry on

Combat fishing: if these two words bring to mind images of men dressed in camouflage, battling for giant fish, then you’re not too far off from reality. Though Alaska might seem like the sort of land where scenes from A River Runs Through It play out in real life, you’re actually more likely to see roadside rivers crammed with anglers tossing hooks and sinkers into the water in the hopes of snagging one of the many salmon working their way to a spawning site.

Up here, salmon swim up streams that pass through major cities. In downtown Anchorage, salmon-rich Ship Creek is a 100-meter sprint from the high-rise hotels and office buildings of the business center, and in the middle of the rail yard and port. Mid-summer, you can spot anglers shoulder to shoulder in the creek as you wander through the Saturday Market.

The salmon are so plentiful, in fact, that as they are finishing their life spans you can actually reach into the water and pluck one out with your hands (it’s illegal to do that, though). In the fall, after the fish are all spawned out and dead, the smell of rotting salmon permeates any land within 100 feet of a stream – just driving over a bridge in your car is enough to catch a whiff of decaying fish.

But when salmon are still full of vigor, filling clear streams with their red and silver bodies as they struggle upstream to spawn, their rich meat is sought-after by sport and subsistence fisherfolk alike.With much of Alaska remote and rugged, the intersections of salmon streams and highways, or salmon streams and cities, become hotspots of fishing mayhem, where fishermen stand shoulder to shoulder as they pull their limits in. It’s an odd sight, as you’re driving through miles of mountains, to suddenly come upon hundreds of people sardined together in a single line along the banks of a pristine river.

If you decide you want to join in the intensities, there are a few rules of engagement you should follow. I snagged these from the Peninsula Clarion:

  • Don’t take someone else’s spot
  • When you hook a salmon, yell “fish on!” If someone near you yells this, take your line out of the water.
  • If someone else has a fish and your lines become tangled, cut your line.
  • Wear protective glasses to protect your eyes from flying hooks and sinkers.

In general, be respectful and safe. And once you snag that giant salmon, don’t forget to take the usual bear precautions. Though the hundreds of people lined along the banks of the river may appear to be playing some adult version of “Red Rover,” you’re actually in the middle of some very wild country.

Only in Alaska: Living – and traveling – in bear country

by Catherine Bodry on

Bears: everybody fears them, everybody wants to photograph them from behind a tour bus window. In my neighborhood, black bears constantly get into garbage cans – when people express disappointment at not having seen any bears on their vacation, I encourage them to hang out on my street on garbage day.

Alaska has plenty of bears, and if you follow a few rules you’re unlikely to ever encounter a bear in the wild.There are really only two types that you might encounter casually: the black bear and the brown (or grizzly) bear. I often meet tourists who are too timid to venture on even a basic nature walk after I warn them that they need to be bear-aware. This attitude is unfortunate, because they don’t realize two things:

1. Bears in Alaska don’t just hang out in the woods, so you’re not necessarily “safe” by staying in town. Though urban bear encounters are generally confined to the fringes of town, last year a grizzly wandered down a popular greenbelt into downtown Anchorage, the state’s largest city.

2. If you follow the right procedures, you’re unlikely to encounter a bear in the wild.

Here are a few tips for avoiding bears, and what to do should you encounter one:

  • The best rule, the holy grail of all rules, is to make noise. I’m a trail runner, an activity that is the third-most dangerous in bear country (just behind getting between a sow and her cubs or a bear and its kill) since it involves moving (slightly, in my case) fast and quietly. I used to carry bear spray (and we’ll get to that) but now I just yell. As my friend told me, “if you run into a bear, you weren’t making enough noise.”
  • On a related note, in my opinion you should forget bear bells unless you’re putting them on your dog’s collar. They don’t make very much noise and give you a false sense of security. Better to sing, yell or clap your hands.
  • Learn to identify a black bear and a brown bear – your response should you run into one will differ depending on the bear. Despite their common names, color is not always the best indicator of a type of bear, so shape and size are important. Black bears are smaller than brown, and are flat between the shoulder blades while grizzlies have a large hump.Black bears also have a straight profile, while grizzlies have a dished-out shape.

If you encounter a bear:

  • Don’t run – you’ll never outrun a bear and you don’t want to encourage it to chase you. Stay calm, talk to the bear to let it know you’re there, and raise your arms to make yourself look bigger. If the bear stands on two legs, it’s just trying to get a better look at you.
  • Don’t climb a tree – bears are better at it than you.
  • Don’t give it food. It might come back for more.
  • Throw something on the ground to try to distract it – a camera or book.

If you’re charged/attacked by a bear:

  • If it’a a black bear, it’s likely bluffing. I’ve had several friends charged by black bears, and each time the bear veered at the last second.
  • You can use bear (pepper) spray on a black bear, but I’ve read that pepper spray only annoys brown bears, which is why I don’t carry it any more.
  • If attacked by a black bear, fight back! Punch it in the nose, kick it, whatever.
  • If attacked by a brown bear, play dead. Cover your neck and head. Typically a brown bear will stop attacking once it doesn’t feel threatened any more.

Remember, bear encounters are not that common, and shouldn’t keep you from enjoying Alaska’s trails. Simply making a lot of noise will reduce your chances significantly.

Come up and visit!

Global warming has a reverse effect on Alaska’s state capital

by Catherine Bodry on

You’re likely used to hearing about the possibility of cities flooding as sea levels rise, a result of climate change. But in Alaska, that quirky, individualistic state, the reverse is happening – at least in one area.

In an article today from the New York Times, Cornelia Dean reports that Juneau, the only US capital not accessible by road, is actually gaining land as a result of glacial melt. Though it seems counterintuitive, the logistics work a bit like this: glaciers weigh a lot, and as they recede, their pressure eases. The land sort of bounces back, or rises – faster than the rising seas can keep up with it.

Furthermore, glacier runoff deposits sediments into the water, and the Gastineau Channel in front of downtown Juneau is so silty that at low tide it’s more of a mudflat than a channel. Where boats regularly sailed, runners now cross in the annual Mendenhall Mud Run. It’s a fun spin on the rising land, no doubt, but it belies the seriousness of the changes.

Read more about Juneau’s rising land problems here.