Inside the Outside

see all photos »

Alaskans are a different breed of American.

I witnessed this through two prime examples...

The last owner got a little shook up when it fell out of the sky and I got a good deal!

When i got on that fated, fat plane from Auckland to LA, i was struck by the overhelming cache of stereotypical Americans squeezed into their seats and pissed off and loud. Bum Bags, short shorts and t-shirts with catchy slogans like "Fuck Off."

see all photos »

They were the exact image of the American inside your head. The ones we all love to hate. Nothing added or taken away. Truly Crazy stuff.

So there i was; frazzled and weak to the point of accepting that this was America and these were Americans. What you see is what you get.

Then i stepped on my flight to Anchorage, Alaska.

It was quiet. Steely glares and weathered faces carved by hunting knives. Facial hair sprouting in dense throngs of bush from everyone, man woman and child.

see all photos »

Their shoes were boots, their jeans ragged and t-shirts of grizzly bears, wolves and moose. The definative aroma of proudly uncovered, unashamed man musk hung in the air, particularly over the women.

Alaskans.

My second example came this morning.

Waking at a highly healthy jetlagged time of midday- i watched some Spanish football (i miss the old socceroo) on TV then got ready to go and explore the downtown of Anchorage.

Ground Control to Major Don
see all photos »

The phone rang and it was Roger's brother Don. An Alaskan at heart- he told me he was old, retired, short sighted and about to go for a spin in his 50 year old dodo plane.

Awesome.

Only after we were in the air did he begin explaining the mongrel of machinery that was the small plane. Half of it was salvaged from a car and half from a boat. Indeed, this left me questioning the slightly important issue of aero-dynamic capabilies in this aqua-land based flying contraption, but it was too late.

see all photos »

Apparently the previous owner got "a little shook up" when it fell out of the sky.

The cold winds buffeted us around a bit and tried to push us into random mountains. I considered the possibility that the cold winds buffeting us around a bit was actually the only thing keeping us in the air.

Questions questions...

The flight WAS breathtaking, not just becuase of the dodgy air conditioner. Open endless sky attacked by an ancient grey jagged tooth of mighty jutting mountains. Roaring cold blasts of the freshest air. Dazzling suits of snow flummoxed upon the craggy landscape. Not the sight but the SENSE of many wild things lurking below the wings.

see all photos »

Under twleve hours of getting off the passenger plane, broken, bemused and dysotopically discombobulated (as these diaries are full of discombobulation), i was up in the air in a clapped out old banger with a banged out old clapper. Real Alaska.

A bald eagle flew level with the plane for a bit. A dark brown shape (bear?!?) waded through a river below. Hooves and tracks and paws and claws sat perfectly fossilised in fresh snow.

The openess of wilderness refreshed my mind and fired my soul at our low temperature low altitude cruise.

Don practiced a few landing techniques on different terrain- each as technically difficult and trickly as the last. To me, they seemed like near death escapes from vertical nose-dives but what do I know- i was only the CO-pilot.

I'd snap some pics of a glacier or a mountain and the plane would veer off to one side as Don snapped some pics of a mountain or a glacier. Both hands on the camera, no hands on the plane. Alaskan, Alaskan, Alaskan.

We landed a few places and got out to the sound of silence. Cold breath and dormant energy in the vast plains of this untamed wasteland. You could almost feel the land hibernating beneath your feet.

Chunks of melting snow made cascading waterparks out of mountain faces.

I was barely in the door when my hosts pushed back out again- "Walk, Walk, Walk!"

We were going on a walk.

I started off at a leisurely pace towards some snowy feilds before they hauled me into their pickup and drove to the base of a mountain.

"Walk, Walk, Walk!"

Clumped snow everywhere, grey gnarled lamposts of wintery skeletal trees and rocks lounging in the wet earth.

We climbed and stumbled and fell and cliff-jumped on our Walk!

I was pointed out the various poo sediments all over the place: the grape-like moose poo, the high-fibre lynx poo, textured wolf poo and huge piles of bear poo.

I think if i came across one of them I'd leave some poo of my own.

But there was to be no cacking of pants- the wild life was everywhere and nowhere and we were safe.

We reached some sort of peak and were slapped up by the wind before descending through a near vertical pine forest back to the pickup.

I saw a moose, the moose saw me and we both agreed we were strange looking creatures with stupid noses.

Then we had pizza bigger that the arctic circle.

These 'Alaskans' had proved themselves apart from those 'Americans.'

Americans watch the outside inside. Alaskans forget the inside outside.

Whichever way you look at it- it was one hell of a way to spend a first day inside the outside that is Alaska.