In 2005 we went on a cruise to Alaska with Uncle George & Janet Sipes....we had a great time. I loved Victoria Island and of course Glacier Bay. After the cruise, I wrote about each port...this description is from October 2005: Our First Port The jagged hills rise up from the turquoise sea and are clustered so tightly with trees, one might think it is a continuous blanket of pine. The trees spill into the valley below, crowded with clapboard housing and a variety of square structures of colorful tourist traps known as stores. Dividing the village creeps a two-lane road, hardly wide enough for two cars and crooked like an old woman’s crippled spine. This is our first port, Juneau, the capital of Alaska. Skagway We took the train near the mouth of the sea and swung past the town of Skagway. Once a vibrant gold rush town, it now clings to the economic whims of contemporary nomadic groups known as Cruisers. The train slides past a row of saltbox structures selling t-shirts and fools gold to desperate souls as proof of their long awaited vacation journey. The train inches up through the forest, past several 2,000-foot long waterfalls, beyond narrow 125-year old trails once walked upon by fallen prospectors, to a glacier carved landscape of snow capped mountains which are bisected leisurely by an azure river. The land is so pristine and crisp it seems the only explanation for this visual feast is that God has personally kissed this beloved land himself. Glacier Bay The murky gray waters portend the ominous vision located two miles north as ice floats by and sea life is obscured from view. The magnitude cannot be anticipated nor could photographs ever reveal the explosive wonderment of Hubbard Glacier. Six miles long and three to four hundred feet tall, iridescent blue and white rugged cliffs of natures ice sculptures shimmer in the cloudy landscape like a rare and precious jewel. Sharp swords of ice chards break free with thunderous relief. I now realize how insignificant we are in comparison to this glorious feature, which has stood and decayed for millenniums. I know I am privileged to complete this pilgrimage and witness what so few will ever observe and I give thanks for a glimpse at this wonder of our world. Ketchikan The main segment of the city rests on piers and sways with the tides of the ocean. Like most communities, it yearns to be special but has emerged to become a generic seaside town with a population servicing tourists during the day and strung out on meth amphetamines at night. The prime tourist attraction they claim is Dolly’s house, an infamous whore who gave pleasure to many men and tears to countless women. But to an outsider it seems clear that the residents are jaded and have strangely overlooked their greatest gift, the wilderness that surrounds them. I must admit we fell prey to a bus tour of the town with stops at the local dump, quarry, whorehouse, totem pole village and river. Our bus driver, Sourdough Jack, took pride in driving through the neighborhood of his youth, at no extra charge. “There’s my cousins house. There is my Dad’s house and over there, that is Uncle Joes”! There were no oohs or aaahs during this leg of the tour. When the bus finally stopped, we parked on a low bridge above a rushing ocean fed river. “You have ten minutes.” Ten minutes was all we had to observe the struggle of life and death, of weak and strong. The salmon were at the end of their own voyage, swimming up stream and fighting the current with ferocity, jumping forward, smashing against rocks and flowing backward rather than ahead after numerous instinctive attempts to return to the wading pool of their birth. Only 2% of the salmon will complete this harrowing crossing to lay their eggs and die before a new group of salmon swims to the sea again. Literally, from death brings life. It is a primitive but perfect cycle and offers supreme insight into the survival of the species and the fittest.
Posted on: Sat, 06 Dec 2014 16:51:53 +0000
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