The Great Alaskan Adventure Part 6

The morning after hanging with the hardcore kayakers/cool kids, we awoke early to put some hair on our chests with a breakfast of instant oatmeal and black coffee. Mmm...



After breakfast, we threw on our kayak garb and headed out onto Resurrection Bay. The weather could not have been more perfect. We've both said this may have been our favorite day of the entire trip. And that, friends, is what you call a bold statement.



The view from our cabin. (It's taking a lot of strength not to write something like, "Talk about a room with a view, huh?" We'll refrain.)



Right now you're probably asking yourself, "Why is that not Nat's FB profile pic?" We're asking ourselves the same thing.









After a couple hours of kayaking, we stopped to rest our on-fire arms check out a waterfall. We love a good waterfall. Know who else loves waterfalls? BEARS! There was bear scat, salmon carcasses and honey pots all over this stretch of the woods. (And we are not lying about the honey pots. Not lying at all.)





Lunch break. Also know as, "The Most Beautiful Place Ramon Noodles has Ever Been Ingested."





It's official. We want a pet puffin. They are the most adorable creatures on earth. They try so hard to fly and because they're not so good at it, their friends all gather around to cheer one another on. We sat in our kayak long enough to cheer on the little fella above. He did brilliant. We - his adoptive parents - were so proud.



We shall call this one, "Victory!"



Cue the rocky sea, rolling clouds and shrimp boat. End scene.

Until next time,
Team Taylor

Correction

In the last post, I made the assumption that Nick and I have the same feelings in regards to rented, tan roller skates verses cool black ones with racer stripes. Turns out, I was wrong. Nick actually had his own roller skates. And they were black (no recollection of racer stripes). In other words, he was one of the "cool kids," who won the racing competitions and always participated in couple's skate with some girl, who definitely had white skates with colorful pom poms. Meanwhile, I was leaning against some wall, attempting to look cool, which, we all know, is impossible in tan roller skates.

The Great Alaskan Adventure Part 5

Yesterday, while attempting to put together a 3,000-piece puzzle and listening to the Avett Brothers radio station we created on Pandora, we began reminiscing about our Alaskan adventure and it occurred to us that we should really finish writing about it if, for no other reason, than because we know that one day we won't remember it quite as well and it was too swell of an adventure to forget. (Sidenote: We usually don't consider ourselves "puzzlers," but we're running out of winter-weather activities. The puzzle/music afternoon was much more enjoyable than the time we attempted to play hide 'n' seek in our apartment. That was just depressing.)

Anyway...back to Alaska.

The last time we chatted (well, we wrote and you read), we had arrived at Kayaker's Cove and were getting settled into our cozy little cabin.

Shortly after we arrived via water taxi, a group of way-more-hardcore-than-us folks arrived from Seward via kayak. Um, yeah. That's a 17-mile trek, which in our minds is an incredibly far distance. (I mean, it took us 45 minutes to go 17 miles via water taxi.) Anyway, we quickly learned that 17 miles is chump change for this crew, as they had recently completed a kayak trip along Alaska's inside passage, ending in Seattle. As in Seattle, Washington. And, if they weren't the coolest kids at camp already, we also learned that they documented the voyage and had turned it into a documentary film appropriately titled, "Paddle to Seattle."

So, our night at Kayaker's Cove was spent with 15 hardcore kayakers/Alaskans. We'd like to think we didn't look like amateur hour, but, let's be honest, we weren't fooling anyone. For one, they all had super cool, personalized kayaks, while our rented kayak had "Property of Kayaker's Cove" written down the side of it in black Sharpie. Of course, this reminded us of the days at Tarwheels when we had to rent ugly tan roller skates while the regulars had black or white skates with colorful pom poms and racer stripes.

A Case of Second Child Syndrome.

Nick and I know a thing or two about Second Child Syndrome. (Heck, we'd probably still wear hand-me-downs if we hadn't both grown taller than our older sibling.) Which is why I said that when Baby Tuten #2 came along, I would take just as many pictures and write just as many blog entries as I did with Anna Claire back in February 2009. Well, that hasn't happened.

For the record, I blame someone with the initials ACT, who would rather play fake games of hide 'n' go seek, eat Cheerios and sing "I'm a Little Teapot," than let me document the first days of little Lauren's life. Of course, I gladly participate in the hide-seeking-Cherrio-eating-here-is-my-handle-here-is-my-spout antics. Which means I've become the very person I swore I'd never be: the cause of the Second Child Syndrome.

To that avail, I'd like to take this time to display some pictures of sweet little Lauren and assure her that if her mom and dad ever make her wear 2-year-old-high-water jeans, all she has to do is run to Aunt Nat and Uncle Nick. We'll buy her her very own pair any day.

I call this one: You'd be sleepy too if you had to hold these cheeks up.



Hang on tight.





Papa D coordinated with the hospital walls.



The Tuten-side!

World, meet Lauren Hayley.

This morning, a little after 9 a.m., Lauren Hayley made her grand entrance into the world. Weighing in at 7 pounds, 5 ounces, Miss Lauren has a full head of dark brown hair, just like her older sister, Anna Claire. She's also got the signature Pless chubby cheeks, which makes her extra squeezable.

Special News Cast...

We interrupt your scheduled programming to bring you a special titled "Baby Tuten #2 Makes Her Debut."

We are reporting live from Greenville Memorial Hospital. Baby Tuten is moments away from saying hello to the world for the very first time.

Stay tuned...

The Great Alaskan Adventure Part 4

After our hike, we had to say goodbye to Peel and Roberta for the week. They had to get back to their white-sneaker-ers/fanny-packers and we had a lot more AK to see.

Immediately after saying our goodbyes, we drove from the Ptarmingan Lake (remember, silent "P") trailhead to Miller's Landing, a water taxi port in Seward, AK. From Miller's Landing, we took a water taxi to Kayaker's Cove, a little nook within Resurrection Bay.

The boat in the middle of the water was our transportation. And yes, it was as cold and wet as it appears in the picture below.



After the 45 minute boat ride, we arrived at Kayaker's Cove, a kayak and wilderness "resort." (Err, not sure if "resort" is the right word to describe Kayaker's, but let's roll with it.)

Kayaker's Cove is a collection of small private cabins (there were 4 total) and one lodge that sleeps 15-20 people. It is rustic, but tranquil and oh-so-peaceful. Looking back, we agree this might have been our favorite experiences. Without electricity or running water, but with a roof over our heads and a wood-burning fireplace, we were perfectly comfortable, but still uncomfortable enough to feel like it was a real adventure. We cannot say enough amazing things about Kayaker's Cove. Seriously. Loved it.

What we didn't love was the outhouse. One trip in and we opted for the great outdoors after that.



Our precious cabin. Notice the billowing smoke from the chimney. We started the fire the second we arrived.



The inside of the cabin. We were freezing, muddy and wet when we arrived, so starting a fire and putting on dry clothes resulted in many happy dances.



Resurrection Bay from the edge of the Kayaker's Cove property. After a rainy day, the clouds finally started to break up. And if it wasn't already picturesque enough, a seal came right up to the shore to see how we were doing. Perfection.



Cue Nick Drake's "Pink Moon."

Until next time,
Team Taylor

The Great Alaskan Adventure Part 3

So, clearly we're not that great at blogging even every week. But you forgive us. Because you're awesome. And how do we know you're awesome? Cause you read this blog. Duh.

Anyway, let's chat some more about Alaska, shall we? Last we spoke, we had just finished telling you about the evil paddle boat and the adorable-ness that is Renfros Cabins.

Shortly after making it ashore from the paddle boat excursion, Peel and his girlfriend, Roberta, showed up. They had both been working all week, so this was the first time we had been able to see them since arriving in Alaska. Obviously, it was great seeing Peel, especially in his new home-away-from-home. And Roberta exceeded our every expectation. The four of us had a blast at our little cabin in the middle of nowhere. Most of the evening was spent eating. Which, in our opinion, is exactly how most evenings should be spent.

Stuffing your face with Alaskan king crab is always a good time. Always.



Peel's catch.



This is what the guys call "prepping maka." (Don't worry, I (Nat) don't understand the inside joke, either.)



Cedar-plank salmon cooked over the open fire. That's how we roll.



Because we were so hungry by the time we actually sat down to eat, we didn't take any pics of our final feast. (We hate it when our stomachs control our minds. It happens, like, every day.) Anyway, picture the most amazing crab legs, salmon and potatoes drizzled in garlic butter and you'll have an idea of what went down at Renfros that night. Top that picture off with fireside s'mores and your picture is even more complete.

Post feast and fireside time, Peel told us an original bedtime story. We can't even remember the gist of the story. It was that successful.

The next morning, Saturday, Aug. 28th, Peel and Roberta took us on a little 7-mile jaunt to Ptarmigan Lake (That "P" is silent, by the way. Unlike me (Nat), as Tay would say.) The hike was wet, muddy, foggy and awesome.



Ptarmigan Lake really brought out our eyes.



We've been here.



Another one! For the seats in the back!



Bear scat (that's poo for those of you who are not up on your feces lingo) was everywhere on the trail. Like, everywhere. Days later, Peel and Roberta admitted to us that it was the most fresh bear scat they had seen on a hike and they were both convinced we were going to walk up on a grizzly. Thankfully, Peel and Roberta kept their fears to themselves and let us walk merrily along in our ignorant bliss.



Even more delicious than bear scat, we found tons of fresh raspberries along the hike. And Bear Grills acts like surviving in the woods is hard. Puh-lease.



It's fun fact time! Did you know that in the months leading up to hibernation, a bear must forge roughly 200,000 berries a day in order to pack on enough pounds to survive? Well, they do.

Clearly, if Nick were a bear, he wouldn't make it to December.



Until next time,
Team Taylor

The Great Alaskan Adventure Part 2

Whoa, weeks go by fast. They're like the Jesse Owens of time. (Please excuse the bad joke. Funny hasn't been coming as natural lately.)

Alright, where were we? What were we talking about? Oh yes, we had arrived in ANC on Wednesday. Thursday, we spent the day in Anchorage, being as touristy as possible. Friday we woke up early, hopped in the trusty rental and drove down to Seward, AK. Basically, once we were 20 miles outside Anchorage, we started feeling like we were seeing the Alaska everyone talks about. Oh, you know, the take-your-breath-away-can't-believe-this-is-the-same-earth-you-live-on Alaska. In fact, the 2 hour drive to Seward took us over 3. There was lots of "PT" spots, after all. (Note: "PT" is short for "picture time." Instead of constantly asking one another if we should take a picture, we'd save ourselves the breath and just point to things, grunt and say, "PT." Which translated to, "pretty. need picture. point. shoot. thank you." Caveman conversations came in quite handy. Try if you haven't already.)



Above, us on the side of the Seward Highway. Folks call this area Turnagain Arm, which we don't really get, but think sounds cool. So, here we are, at Turnagain Arm.

Just north of Seward you'll find Exit Glacier. It's not the largest glacier we saw on our trip, but it's impressive in its on right. The blue color, which isn't as obvious in the picture below, is absolutely remarkable. Even from far away, you can feel the air blowing off the ice. Some nights we take turns sticking our heads in our freezer so we can, just for a moment, relive Mother Nature's majesty.



Because of falling ice, this is as close as we could get to Exit Glacier. Obviously, from here, the aqua color was much more apparent. (Fun fact: The ice on a glacier is actually clear. Any color you see - mainly blue - is actually our eyes' interpretation of the sun's rays penetrating the ice. Or something like that.)





After our visit to Exit Glacier, we made our way to Renfros Camp, our very humble, albeit cozy and adorable, abode for the evening. Peel told us about Renfros, which was located on Kenai Lake, and it was one of his best recommendations. The cabin, which sleeps four, came complete with a fire ring and paddle boat. Immediately upon arriving we had to take the boat for a spin. (Wait, you can't take a paddle boat for a spin, can you? Well, you know what we mean.) We look a pic of our quarters from the water. At this point, we felt like we might possibly be the only people on the planet.



Shortly after taking the picture above, we realized we had drifted perhaps a little too far from the shore. So, we started paddling hard. Fifteen minutes later, legs burning, we had made it about half-way. Neither of us were sure we had the strength to make back in, as the current in the lake was definitely slow-river-like. Naturally, instead of panicking, we both started cracking up at the thought of Peel and his girlfriend, whom we had never met, showing up (they were joining us at Renfros), only to find us - the Alaskan amateurs - in the middle of Kenai Lake, screaming for help. After a few minutes of laughing, we found the leg strength to bring the boat ashore. We didn't get back in the paddle boat the rest of our stay.

Evil paddle boat.

To be continued...

Until next time,
Team Taylor

The Great Alaskan Adventure™ Part 1

The blisters have healed. The smell of campfire has been washed out of our clothes. The sleeping bags have been aired out and put away until our next adventure.

We are home from Alaska.

We say that with the slightest (perhaps not-so-slight) tinge of sadness, because, truly, The Great Alaskan Adventure™ was as spectacular, magical, exhausting and exhilarating as we had hoped. And it's hard to believe that the vacation we talked about for over a year is now officially 2 weeks over.

Because it would take entirely too much typing to recount every detail of our trip in words, we'll use pictures to chronicle our journey. (Pictures are so much more awesome, anyway.)



In case you can't tell, that is Nick's super-duper-excited face. Before we left ORD on August 25th, we stopped at the fine, culinary establishment of Chili's Too for a celebratory beverage. We both did the giddy two-step through the security line. Not only were we headed to Alaska, but we were going to be away from our jobs for a full 7 days (The Great Alaskan Adventure™ was 11 days long, including weekends). We hadn't said, "sayonara!" to our 9-5ers for that many days since our wedding in 2006.

Post-Chili's Too, we boarded our flight. Six and a half hours later, our pilot informed us we were making our final descent into Anchorage. That is when we pulled open our window shade and saw this:



At times like this, you have no choice but to throw out an overly-used quote. So we did. "Toto, I don't think we're in Chicago anymore!"

We arrived in Anchorage around 9pm (midnight in Chicago). At that point, the sun was still far from setting. (It went down around 10:30 or so.) Fueled by adrenaline and expensive airline snacks, we headed to Peel's Place and continued to stay up another 3 hours.

For those of you wondering, Peel's Place isn't a hotel or bar. (Though that would be a cute name for one.) Peel's Place is, literally, our friend's humble abode in Anchorage. Very humble. As in mouse-hole humble. (Hey, he called it that, not us.) Peel was gracious enough to let us use his pad as a pit stop throughout our journey. Peel also helped us plan our itinerary. Truly, without him, our trip wouldn't have been nearly as incredible. We know we have incredible taste in friends. Peel is no exception.

On Thursday, the first full day after arriving in AK, we spent the day in Anchorage. For the most part, we were busy prepping for the remainder of our trip (i.e. buying propane for our camping stove, making sure we had enough smores ingredients, etc.). We did get a chance to check out downtown Anchorage, which isn't un-Gatlinburg-like. There are photo boards and "I wrestled a grizzly" shirts as far as the eye can see.





Thursday afternoon we drove to Palmer, AK (45 minutes from Anchorage) to check out the Alaska State Fair. There, we did the only things you can possibly do at a state fair - stare at strange people, eat junk food (we choose reindeer dogs) and gawked at ENORMOUS veggies.



Poor Dancer.



Oh, and Prancer, too.



The veggies are impressive until you remember that farmers in AK grow everything in 3.5 months - the only months of the year when they have sufficient sunlight. Then you realize the veggies are super impressive.

Not pictured: the cabbage the size of a bean bag chair. Tay wanted to boil it up. Sick.

Thursday came to an end at Moose's Tooth Pizzeria. There, we ate the. best. pizza. ever. Halibut with some sort of garlic goodness sauce.



The pizza, jet lag and craziness of the state fair forced us to bed fairly early Thursday night (most definitely before the sun went down). Which, of course, was okay because Friday was to be a big day - it was the day the REAL adventures began.

To be continued...perhaps sooner than later.

Until next time,
Team Taylor