here's life

Wednesday after work I jumped in my car and within minutes I was on
the turnpike on my way to Iowa. (I was in a class all day, learning
about a new computer drawing system that I may use some day---It was
awesomely better than what I currently use)
.
.
Eight hours later I was ringing Aduma's apartment doorbell so he would
push the button to let me into the building. He didn't hear it because
he had already come down to open the door.
Thursday morning found us drinking some chocolate milk and heading for
O'Hare. We made good time, and got there well before our flight left,
even though we didn't find the exit we wanted and had to wander around
southern Chicago looking for roads that showed up on our maps. The
flight over the mountains took 3 hours, but half of that was spend
watching the sun set as we sped after the circling ball of fire.
Sometimes we could see the peaks through the clouds. Sometimes there
were tiny lights in the barren landscape. As the sun set, the tops of
the clouds were dusted with pink. We raced toward receding tongues of
red, painted by the sun as it retreated into the west at half-speed.
We reached the edge of the Great Salt Lake, and turned south toward
the city. As we sailed over the water, the moon sailed with us.
Small mountain ranges jutted out of the sunset-reflecting water, and
clouds blurred the distinction between sky and mirror below it. The
moon was only a finger-nail sliver, and the un-lit portion was visible
against the sky. When it's reflection was over open water, the waves
blurred it into a smear, but as it jumped from pool to pool in the
water broken by protruding rocks, the clear reflection could be
seen--even the dark side of the moon. We approached land as the plane
made it's approach, but the airport seems to be built on a marsh--if
it could be called that, since it is more rocks and brine than soggy
peat.

After a short dinner of leftover lunch, we boarded another plane,
headed for Anchorage. This flight was darker, and over more desolate
areas, as we made our way to near Vancouver and then arcing north to
Alaska. They played a movie for us, but we didn't spring for the
earphones so we were left to guess what they were saying and what
sounds went along with the bazaar special effects as the story
meandered from a soap opera to meaningless, but potentially deadly
games that disintegrated into more important combat. And it was
entertaining, even without the sound to recognize themes and scene
criped directly from other, more creative works: "That was totally a
Neo rip-off" "That guy is basically Gandalf?" "And there is the
mirror scene--where's Galadriel?" But, as expected the "good" guys
win, and we learn once again, "When in doubt, side with the
protagonist" as in the other movies in the series (but it seems the
actors have grown faster than the characters would have liked).

Then, we landed in Anchorage, passing the airport and then turning
back, to hit the runway we saw earlier, outlined against the edge of
the city. We took our time finding our way through the small
airport---Bubbles and Fjord were coming, unbeknownst to Igloo, and we
needed to stall for them to arrive from Phoenix. The airport was
filled with various fish and animals. "Daddy, Daddy, why isn't he
moving?" asked a little girl, as she stared at a huge polar bear
towering over her. Her father explained that he was stuffed. Turned
out another LU guy was coming on the same flight as Bubbles and Fjord,
so once Igloo and crew found us, we waited for Randy, and got to
experience Igloo's shock as he saw the two 41'ers come down the
escalator. Then Randy arrived, and we all headed over to Igloo's
house there in town.

We found places on the floor to sleep, and passed out for several
hours. Soon after awakening, Igloo treated us to breakfast of
blueberry pancakes and bacon cooked hot enough to kill trichinosis.
Then we headed off to Igloo's childhood home. "We" being the 41'ers
and Randy, Antares, Igloo's dad. Driving through the open SouthFork
valley, we wound our way up snow-patched roads until we reached the
house that Igloo grew up in. We didn't want to scare the tenants, so
we viewed it from a safe distance. It was on the side of the hill
with a mountain behind it. One of the peaks was 5001 ASL and Igloo
and Antares talked about how they used to go up it all the time--"Past
the last house, see that ridge that is bare? You follow that up to the
top. Used to go up of an afternoon." We continued on, parking in a
little trail head occupied by a moose, who wandered off at our
approach. "Here, we'll leave the door open so you can dive back in,
and you can go take a picture of it.." This time it was Bubbles who
was being prodded toward death---we hadn't yet realized what a good
test subject Randy was.
The Alaskans had warned us flatlanders that jeans weren't the best
thing for hiking in snow--they get heavy and cold when soaked with ice
and water---but we hadn't really packed many synthetic outfits. But
as we started out, things seemed fine because if you stayed on the
trail, you didn't get much snow in the tops of your sneakers. The snow
off the trail was almost strong enough to walk on gingerly, but
invariably I would fall through, filling up my boot tops and pant
cuffs. We were on the side of a sparsely bushed "mountain" that sloped
smoothly up to the clouds. Antares had a shotgun and Igloo had a 45
pistol, just in case we met some bears. Randy carried a camera. Igloo
and Antares told us about the fun we would have doing "dive-rolls", a
sport of their invention, due to their lack of funds for skiing or
snowboarding. On the way back we stopped at some nice slopes and the
two demonstrated. They jumped head first down the hill, landing on
their backs and leaping with their feet every rotation, doing flying
somersaults to the bottom of the snow. It was hilariously foolish
looking, so of course, I had to try it. A simple leap and I was off
to a good start, but I didn't really have the leap down, and so I was
just rolling head over heels, my face covered with snow when I
stopped. I was standing there, shaking snow out of my clothes, and
laughing at the absurdity, and then clambering up to try again. We
found a slope that seemed to drop off at the end, so I rolled down it.
After each run, I would dig the snow out of my shoes so it didn't
melt too much.

We wandered back to the "minivan" (a large, white Ford Excursion)
stopping to look at some moose on the way. They told us that they
were slow in the snow, but that we were too, so we didn't venture too
close, but Bubbles and I climbed a tree and jumped out into the
snow--landing is different in the snow.

After eating some Taco Bell, we headed for a place near Palmer that we
could shoot stuff with guns---we had picked up some ammo, earplugs and
Shane, the best man, at Walmart. The drive was up the Matanuska
valley, along a river of sand bars and ice and a little water. We
glimpsed the glacier at the top. Finally we found the place. The
Excursion was parked at the bottom of the snow-covered side road, but
Shane drove his Subaru up until it got stuck, and then we shanked it
the rest of the way, loaded with firearms and ammo. Finding a ravine,
we walked up into it and picked some target on the other side. Papa
Igloo gave us a short set of rules for safe shooting: A gun is always
loaded, muzzle control, finger off the trigger, be sure of your
target. Then we loaded up and fired away. A 12 gauge doesn't kick as
much as I remembered from 10 years ago, and a 22 is like a BB gun in
comparison. The .44 magnum single action was a pretty solid piece to
fire one handed. I didn't shoot the Something Special that Shane and
Antares each carried. We picked up the shotgun shells, and headed back
to the car. We had to push Shane's car out, and then headed for the
rehearsal--we were late, of course.

The rehearsal went well, we had to move some chairs around, and set
some stuff up. The dinner was fun---it had turned into a family
reunion, since a passel of cousins had shown up. Igloo's sisters are
crazy, methinks.

We watched Igloo and Danae open their gifts from Antares--one was
wrapped to look like a rifle with a bipod, and I was expecting candy,
or something equally incongruous, but it was a shotgun--the bipod was
wrapping. And there was a box of shells for Danae "Open in case of
husband insanity"---as well as some silverware.

Back in Anchorage, we went to bed while Igloo packed, and woke in the
morning. We dressed and headed for Palmer. There wasn't much to do
other than fill up some balloons and tape some candles to small cups.
Aduma, Bubbles and Fjord were ushers and were given lighters, which
they handled with utmost respect and purpose. Bubbles ironed they
guys clothes while we stood and watched. And my mind is running out,
so I will go to bed and pick up with the wedding next time. This has
already taken two evenings and way too much of your patient reading.

# posted by abu : 10:54 PM