I'm a Scow Girl!

Well, friends...I am here. I am living on a scow for the next sixish weeks and sharing a small space with two other amazing hard-working ladies. I keep asking myself, "how did I get here?" and am continually thankful for the chance to be in this wilderness. We towed out yesterday and anchored in to a tiny little cove on Chichagof Island. For anyone interested, it's about half way between Mite Cove and Soapstone Cove on the Lisianski Strait. I am a stone's throw from a pretty little beach and I see mountains from the window by my bed. I'm starting to get used to the fact that I see jelly fish, sea otters, sea lions, and a multitude of bald eagles on a regular basis. Even big old brown bears are a fairly common occurance...which had me singing whatever song I knew as we went onshore to set up the waterline. Basically, I'm in a little bit if heaven. Hopefully I can keep that attitude when the work gets going. Hell...I will be hoping to find time to eat at that point. My appetite has been ferocious from being on my feet all day. Luckily, I'm not the only one aboard who needs to snack every 30 minutes.
Well, I should get back to cleaning and prepping for the opening of King Salmon season. I'm not sure how much I don't know yet...but I've learned a few things to help me along the way. The next few days will be a nice crash course. Wish me luck!

Misadventures With Mom

I am coming to the end of the first leg of this crazy journey, and I have yet to mention a key player in the shenanigans of the past three days.  When I first found myself preparing to head up north I was dead set on driving my truck the 1,800+ miles to Juneau and hoping to find a friend to join me.  As the time for departure grew nearer I was becoming comfortable with the fact that the drive would be solo...but my mom was a little less so.  Her worry pushed her to buy a plane ticket out West to ensure safe passage along the great Alaskan highway.  Luckily, through talking with others, her worry soon mixed with an excitement close to my own.  Unfortunately, I was giving the heartbreaking news that my little truck required far too much work to make a drive up worth it.  I actually found myself slightly relieved, as I began crunching some numbers and realized just how much that fourish day drive was goings to cost us.  But..fear not.  For, as I was scrambling to finish up my third quarter of grad school, my mom was busy figuring out how to get us to the Last Frontier.  Turns out the ferry is a damn good way to go.

And my mom, Denise, is a damn good travel buddy.  Having put up with me for the past 26+years, she knows when to leave me alone and when to bug me just enough to get me to laugh.  The past three days have reminded me just how alike we are...especially when we spent the entire second day doing nothing but sitting, reading, and sneaking drinks on deck in travel mugs.  I was forced to be on the other side of my dorky humor as we each threw down one lame joke after another, which made me love both my mom, and myself, a little bit more.  And through the rough patches that always pop up when you find yourself around the same person long enough, I realized that I may not express this love and gratitude as often as I should.  My misadventures have always been about those events that happen which you never expected, but forever appreciate...and the beginning of my Alaska adventure is proving to be on of those times.  But, here's the difference, this time I have discovered where some of that openness to life came from.

My mom turned 60 this year, an age when most people are sitting back, knitting, and watching tv.  Ok, she does that...but she proved her adventurous side to me as well.  Today we were walking around downtown Juneau trying to escape the throngs of cruise boat tourists that took over the streets.  Rather than give up and head back to the hotel, we decided to follow a sign for an old mining museum that was a mile and a half out of town.  On the way we discovered a trail head for the Mt. Roberts tram (which costs $31 per person if you go round trip from town).  We wanted to see the sights and save a buck so vowed to come back after the museum...because we are that cool.  After looking at the map and figuring a mile hike up, we were game.  That is, until we came to a fork in the trail half a mile up that said 2 miles to the tram.  Not going to lie, I was up for the adventure, but a little worried about my mom.  Her thoughts?  Eff it...game on Juneau!  And an hour and a half later, we found ourselves sweating, swearing, and smiling as we came to the cruise line tourist infested tram building.  But guess what?  We saved ourselves $21 (it was $10 down if you hiked)!

So, here I am.  It's 9:30 pm, still bright out, and preparing myself for a 4am wake up.  Have no fear, the woman running the front desk assured us that it gets light at 2:30.  Although I am antsy and ready to start work, I find myself sad to be parting ways with my new adventure buddy. That's ok...she promised we could get matching tattoos when she turns 80.

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Syd the Kid Heads to the Last Frontier

For the second time in two weeks I find myself shocked at how quickly time has passed.  I am currently sitting on a ferry, going along the Alaska Marine Highway, starting my journey to Pelican. What is in Pelican?  Well, besides another adventure...the most physically demanding job I ever expect to have.  Let's start from the beginning. 

Back in January, I had decided that I was getting out of Washington for the summer and was determined to work in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota.  This is a place I spent a few weeks in every summer growing up, yet never got to chance to fully explore.  Now was my chance.  So, I sent some e-mails, filled out a couple of applications, and considered myself blessed when I received a call for an interview.  After nearly two months of phone tag, I accepted the fact that I was staying in Bellingham...luckily filled with new friends and plans for adventures.  I was still faced with the daunting task of finding work in order to make this fiscally manageable.  The first two opportunities fell into my lap rather nicely, but were not gonna hack it when it came to paying bills.  I knew I needed a third, but, in typically Syd fashion, I waited...and waited...and waited...

Until, one day I was approached by a woman who was a year ahead of me in my program. What were my plans for the summer? Where was I going to be? Oh, you need a job? I know of one, but its not in Bellingham.  And I proceeded to do a little happy dance with a not so little happy face.  Why?  Because this woman, Deb, owns a scow in Alaska. My hoped for escape and guaranteed adventure found me.

Now, to find out what exactly I was getting myself into.  So, I asked, and was told this.  My body was going to hurt more than it ever had, I would question my sanity and quite possibly regret my choice in going up there, I would be mentally and physically exhausted, and (my personal favorite) there would be mornings when I wake up, look down, and think to myself, "whose arms are in my bed."  I did question my sanity...but only because I realized that hearing this created a growing sense of excitement and a voice that yelled, "challenge accepted!"

And here I am.  Making my way north to work, sleep, and eat on a boat with three other woman who will teach me how to throw fish for six weeks.  I am not fully sure what to expect other than exhaustion and beautiful scenery...but I am excited by this mystery because I know that I can succeed, excel, and grow from it.  I am equipped with my brand new bib overalls, x-tra tuff boots, stronger arms (from the massive amounts of push-ups I have done to battle the numb arms), and a sense of pride in my continued ability to test my comfort zone to find another side of life.

So, here I go into the wilderness.  I will update with small posts when possible, but don't hesitate to write and ask what I've learned...because I know it will be a lot.  I hope to find a little more of myself out there.  Game on, Alaska!

Ready to go!

Misadventures to Begin Summer

Well world, I have officially completed my first year of graduate school.  I’m not sure how I did it…I am even having a hard time believing that it has already been 9 months since I started this adventure.  But I somehow find myself on the other side after a whirlwind writing frenzy (18 pages in 72 hours).  Hell, looking back, I’m happy that my only real challenge this quarter was battling the consequences of my procrastination.  There was a point in January where I almost walked away from school to pull myself together.  Then I looked around at my cohort and realized I had to stay, because stepping back for a breather would mean leaving the support I needed the most.  It meant that a year and a half down the line, I would be graduating with a whole new cohort.  So…I stayed.  And that group helped me reach a point where my greatest challenge became writing papers.  Which made me lose my mind in a much more welcome manner.

Yup...I was here. No...I didn't take this picture

Before I had time to gather my wits I was busy packing for a camping and climbing adventure at Smith Rock State Park in Oregon with Emily and her brother, Ryan.  Had I ever been sport climbing? Nope. Was I ready to test myself and live a little? Always. Game on!  Step one: begin the five hour drive south to Portland.  Step two: take a break for a quick reminder on how to drive stick shift.  Step three: pass out with the wonderful realization that I have no expectations to wake up to in the morning! Step four: eat a delicious brunch before jumping on the road for another 3 hours to reach our destination. Step five: postpone setting up camp because we are running out of daylight and itching to climb. Cue Syd's first experience in sport climbing...and the beginning of a new love. After successfully climbing a couple routes I found myself hanging out just a little bit past my comfort zone, ready for a good meal of camp curry, a good night's sleep, and two more days full of pushing boundaries. 

My first lead!

First up, start the day with a 5.9 climb.  After struggling through the first 15 feet, I began trusting my equipment, my belayer, and myself.  Reaching the top provided an appreciation for all the hard work I have put my body through over the past couple of months and a healthy dose of pride in what I can accomplish.  The next couple of climbs continued to push me further and further...all the while keeping a big fat grin on my face.  The battle wounds just made me feel a little more bad ass.  Which was nothing compared to being given the opportunity to lead my first route. After watching Emily and Ryan create route after route for me to explore, I was anxious to try it myself.  And I will say this.  I have deep respect for anyone who does a free solo climb.  Even though I was on a 5.5 (one which would be no problem any other time) I found myself second guessing every hold and step.  If I slipped 7' up from my last clip, I've got about 15' to go before I hit rock.  No thanks...I'll just hold on a little bit tighter.  After getting the route set up and getting my feet safely back to ground, I was overwhelmed with a huge sense of accomplishment, which was shared by a smile and congratulations from Emily.  I did it!

After a long day in the sun, we made our way to Bend, Oregon for some delicious grilled salmon and wonderful company before making the long drive back to Portland.  Full bellies and a day of pushing limits in the high desert make for a tiring drive at 10pm.  Our solution?  Dance party!  Until my co-pilot succumbed to her exhaustion and I was left in charge of the music and getting us to a cozy bed.  Only to wake up and spend another 6 hours in the car to complete our journey.  And I will say this...anyone who survives that much time in a car with me deserves an award.  So, Emily, I send you an internet high-five for such a feat.  Thank you for a wonderful adventure,

Throw Love At It

"I don't know what else to do, I don't know how else to get through this, so I'm just going to throw love at it. I'm just going to throw love at it with both hands."

   I always viewed heartbreak as something that someone had to endure and get over by leaving it behind.  I thought of it as some crippling experience which left people jaded.  The past year and few months has taught me something quite different.  So, here's another practice in vulnerability.

 
  Over the past year plus, I have discovered that heartbreak comes in many different forms.  After a family friend took her own life, I felt it in anger and sadness from the loss of such a wonderful person.  A few weeks later, my heart broke a little more when cancer took a high school friend.  I revisited a different kind of heartbreak after losing touch with my dad for six months.  And then I was introduced to a breakup that I feared would leave me jaded. I struggled with being vulnerable and fought the urge to shut down and close myself off from the world.  There were a couple of days were I even tried to hide from others.  This proves difficult when you are in school to become a counselor.  How could I shut down when I was about to help others open up?  Not to mention, I was surrounded by other counseling students.  They don't let you hide.  So, I had no choice but to let those emotions stay on the surface.  And through the pain I learned something that I wasn't able to articulate until my mom sent me an e-mail the other day.  It was sent to her by the brother of our family friend that we lost last year, and in it he addresses a book, "The Wisdom of a Broken Heart."  Yea, I would have laughed at this a few months ago...or run screaming in the opposite direction...but now, I find myself nodding my head in agreement.  Here's why.
 

  By losing so many important people, I also lost major outlets for the love I was giving.  I felt rejected and overwhelmed with an emotion that I was used to giving to others.  I wanted to get rid of it, but realized that by doing so I would become that jaded person I feared.  So, I began to give some of that love to myself.  I filled my broken heart with the love I had given to others.  And once those cracks began to stabilize, I turned this love towards others in my life.  I fought the fear of rejection and gave to others what I wanted back in the world.  The e-mail included another quote from the book that may help explain things, "In Buddhism, there is an emphasis on the broken heart as an attribute of a spiritual warrior, not as a problem or token of personal shame, but as a state of power, spiritual progress, openness and tenderness."  By keeping my heart open to give and receive I am allowing this progress to occur.  I practice random acts of kindness with my friends and family, I have picked up activities that allow me to take care of myself, and I am choosing to embrace my fears.  I am taking those fears and throwing love at them.  Rather than walk away from those I care about because I don't want to get hurt, I am giving them love and compassion.  And if I do get hurt, the past year has shown me that I will come through on the other side...I will even be a little bit stronger.

So let me leave you with this final quote from the e-mail. 
"When your heart is broken, the only thing that matters is love."

Friends!

   I have been meaning to write this blog for awhile now, but was never sure where to start or what to say.  There was this vague appreciation in there, but nothing concrete that would make sense to anyone.  The past couple of weeks have opened my eyes to the idea I wanted to get across.  I know I posted about some amazing adventures I was lucky enough to experience, and I still need to share my Colorado experiences...but I realized the trip wasn't just about going out and having a good time.  My ski adventure wasn't just about relearning and pushing past my comfort zone.  There was a lesson that I did not expect to pick up.  Maybe more of a realization...an eye opener.  I have amazing people in my life.

   Ok, I always had a sense that this was true.  I have met some inspiring individuals, and people who left me in a sense of awe, but I always felt lucky to be in their presence.  I always looked at these people in some guarded sense as if I was preparing for them to leave at some point.  Here's what the past few weeks taught me.  These people do not always leave.  These amazing individuals are all around me, and although some may leave...others will take their place.  This seems simple enough, but was amazing for me to be reminded of.  I have lost some important people in my life over the past year and sometimes found myself being stuck and focusing on what was gone.  Opening myself up to the experiences around me has helped me welcome some new friends and all around wonderful people.

To the people who inspired this post

   Knowing this is one thing...accepting that I deserve these people is another.  And here's how I was opened to it. Alicia, the friend I was visiting in Colorado was talking to her buddy, Alexa, about the way we are treated by those in our lives versus the way we deserve to be treated.  I was sitting in the back of the car while this discussion was happening and not really paying too much attention...until my name came up. At this point in the trip I am basking in the great feeling of new friends, knowing that I will keep in touch when I head back to Washington and hoping to see them when they come out this summer.  With this new friendship, Alicia went on to explain to Alexa that I am the type of person that would do anything for my friends.  It feels weird to type that...almost as if I am bragging about my loyalty or trying to tell everyone how great I am.  On the contrary, I felt strangely uncomfortable hearing a friend describe me in such a way.  I don't know how to explain it, but I felt exposed.  And yet, what she said was true.  I would do anything for my friends, whether I've known them for years, or just a few days.  I have just never heard a friend recognize and acknowledge this...much less describe me that way to someone else.  And this is where I had my realization that...yes...I do deserve these amazing people I have in my life.  I have friends and family who would do anything for me, because I would do the same.

Syd the Kid Remembers How to Ski

   So, here it is. The long awaited ski post.  I know you were so anxious to hear about it and waiting on the edge of your seat. Cue the picture of Syd bundled up on the lift. 

I fit right in

   Anyone familiar with Park City knows that Deer Valley is a pretty ritzy resort.  So, I fit in pretty well with my duct-taped snow pants (I burned a hole in them on the exhaust pipe of my old scooter), and my plastic neon sunglasses. Don't be jealous!  No wait...do. Because I still got to ski for free.    
   Let me start out by saying that,with the exception of a failed attempt at backcountry skiing two years ago, I have not skied in nine years.  And that was in Minnesota.  There are no mountains in Minnesota, just some big hills.  So, not only was I relearning the art of skiing, I was doing this on mountains.  Needless to say I was a little nervous when I jumped on that first lift at Deer Valley.  But hell, this was my adventure vacation (an adventure-cation if you will) and I was not going to let my nerves stop me!  Luckily, Cassidy is a ski instructor and a very patient friend.  And we started on the bunny hill.  I will say I was proud of myself for not falling when it came time to unload from the lift.  And hot damn, I had the biggest grin on my face when muscle memory kicked in and I realized that I remembered how to ski!  French fries, pizza slice...and that whole turning and stopping thing.  Apparently I passed the test, and we were on to bigger and better things!
    I was given a total of 20 times that I was allowed to fall throughout the day, and I was pretty certain I would reach that number.  Number one happened on the bunny hill...muscle memory hadn't kicked in yet.  I can't remember when 2-5 happened, but they did and I laughed.  Number five involved sliding down the slope head first, on my back, for about twenty feet.  This was followed by much laughter on my end, because honestly, it was pretty fun.  I wish I had a picture to share with you.  Fall number six was a nice wipe out.  I discovered that when you're relearning how to ski, it can be nerve-wracking to have so many other people on the slope with you.  Not because I felt compelled to compare, but as a soccer player I have been trained to be aware of where others are and adjust my movements to what I see.  So in trying to stay out of the way of other skiers, I found myself flying through the air and landing hard on my ass.  This one took some recovery time, but a lesson was learned.  Cassidy let me know that its up to those behind me to stay out of my way. Phew...pressure gone!
   After gaining some confidence, we reached the top of a slope that was introduced to me by Cassidy saying, "I'm going to test your limits a bit."  Joy!  And holy crap!  What was the picture I posted a few back?  Oh yea, "Life begins outside of your comfort zone."  Well...let's live a little.  I got a few pointers and was sent on my way.  One small spill at the top and I found myself, comfortably, going a little bit faster as I got further down.  I felt like a giddy child yelling to their parents, "Look what I can do!" And then, I was exhausted! Cue horrible horror movies, delicious home brew, and dog cuddles.  All well  deserved after a day of discovering what I am capable of accomplishing.

Best Ski Teacher ever!