Lewis Travelblog

Home Again

2011-12-14T15:47:00.000-08:00

Well guys, we've now been home for a few days, and this will be my final blog entry. I hope that you enjoyed following along with us as we journeyed through the rich waters and icy landscapes of Antarctica. I know for Jason and I that having so many of you following this blog from back home gave us a structured feel to our days, and knowing that you all were following gave us comfort for being so far away from anything we've ever known before. To prepare y'all, this entry will be a little different as I will vary from the more typical story form used previously. No one really wants to know about the airport and traveling back, that's why so many people take drugs on airplanes...to sleep through it!

For me this trip had its ups and downs, but it leaves a truly sweet taste in my memory.

My favorite sighting: of course the killer whales on Thanksgiving! Seeing something like a killer whale amongst the icebergs with the backdrop of the mountains was amazing. Then the fact that we saw them up close, performing such a rarely documented behavior made it something that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Honorable mentions: penguins and elephant seals at Gold Harbor, blue whales/fin whales, and the Lemaire Channel.

Things I'll miss:

The people: Thank you so much to the Lindblad and National Geographic staff aboard for providing the natural information, photographic expertise, and in general, guiding our voyage. Thank you especially to the crew for putting up with us for three weeks, keeping the ship impeccable, and providing us all with food. I'll also miss all of the friends we made aboard the ship as they are also returning home.

The sights: Antarctica and South Georgia Island are two of the most special places I can think of. The animals, the mountains, and of course icebergs and glaciers make them truly majestic in nature. For me, it was truly a time to see God through His magnificent creation. How great is our God! This trip really gave me time to think about that, and is one of the more memorable points for me.

What I won't miss:

The sounds: Penguins and seals can be kinda annoying. It's that simple.

The smells: It's more simple; they STINK! Penguins on their own do not smell, but thousands upon thousands in one place and their obligatory waste makes a penguin colony have a very bad odor. I hear though that they are much worse later in the season?! And finally, there are few things that I have smelled that are worse than a fur seal!

While I'm at it....

Fur seals: They deserve their own section. They STINK! They make annoying sounds, and they possess one of those smells that you can smell over distance. Days later you can even catch a whiff of them, making your nose cringe. They're also aggressive toward humans, even the little ones! That's three strikes.

The trip is over, and I miss waking up to mountains and glaciers, but I am really glad to be home and see friends and family. Also, I'm sure you can understand the comforts of home: your own bed, your own shower, driving yourself, and being able to find someplace to be alone (no offense to my other 148 shipmates or the staff/crew). There's only so long that I can live aboard a ship. And then there's food, not that the food aboard the ship wasn't tasty, but....I love Mexican food and cornbread! I've had Mexican once and fresh cornbread twice since I've been home....

So once again, thank you for following along with us through our travels. Thank you for giving us the thoughtful support while we've been gone. I'm sad that I can't continue to see those sights, but I am glad to be home with you all. Thank you!

From Atlanta at last,
Greg

Real

2011-12-14T15:46:00.001-08:00

Atlanta:

It’s been almost a week since I returned from Antarctica, and I think that this week has given me some time to process what was one of the most incredible journeys I’ll ever take. In some ways, it seems like Antarctica belongs to a dream world, totally separate from the world where I drive a car and work in an office. It seems so far away from the traffic, the buildings, and the streets that I see on a daily basis, but I know that it’s real. When someone asked me this week where I had been and I told him, he jokingly asked, “So it’s a real place? There’s actually something down there at the bottom of the world?” Yes, Antarctica is a very real place. Yes, there are quite a lot of things at the bottom of the world. We all know this to be true, but experiencing it puts it in a very new light.

Antarctica may be even more real than the world most of us live in. The cities and towns we call home, the important places on the map are the ones that humans have made. We’ve created our own homes. We’ve created these dots we call cities and these all-important lines we call borders. They seem so concrete and real, but cities have importance because we’ve given it. Borders are imaginary lines in the sand we’ve created. In Antarctica, the imaginary lines lose their meaning, and the dots simply don’t exist. There are only mountains, glaciers, islands, straits, bays, and peninsulas. It’s a world we have not made. The penguins come to their breeding grounds. The whales patrol their favorite waters. The sea birds roam the globe, and it all goes on all the time whether we’re there to see it or not.

Here at home, I returned to my office to find the sounds of heavy equipment running and trees shaking and falling by the hundreds as a road crew clears room for a widening highway. The wheels of industry turn, and progress goes on back here in our artificial world. It pains me to watch this happen, but I know that by driving on this highway every day to go to work, I’ve spurred it on.

I don’t have a solution or some eloquent resolution. I only know that everyone I know who has been to Antarctica and experienced really wild places knows that we need them. None of us may be able to tell you precisely why, but we all know the wilds are precious and that there’s something there that calls us back.

~Jason

Round the Horn (Nov. 27)

2011-12-14T15:45:00.000-08:00

Tonight, I'm writing from a very different world. A container ship is alongside, and trucks and forklifts go back and forth along the pier. The city of Ushuaia splays up the mountainside, and the city lights shine in the delayed dusk.

We've spent the past two days sailing from the white continent back to the civilized world. As we left Antarctica behind, it was hard to believe that we were leaving the world of snow and ice and mountains to return to the real world. It still is really.

The first day at sea we were in the realm of the albatross. The giant birds once again joined our ship to wish us a safe voyage home. They reminded us once again that they are the masters of the sea and sky and that we are but visitors.

Today, we woke with the call of our landfall at Cape Horn. It was interesting to see the site of so many legendary sea stories. Rounding the Horn used to be a very dangerous task of the mariner, but now we motor along regardless of the wind and gaze on the monument commemorating the mariners' sacrifice.

Cape Horn.

The rest of the day we spent packing and settling our affairs here on our temporary floating home. The National Geographic Explorer really has come to feel like a second home. We know the hallways and the best places to be at each time of the day. We say good morning and greet the crew by name. Saying goodbye to the ship is bittersweet, but saying goodbye to our shipmates is more difficult. We've become very fond of our fellow travelers, and we've experienced some amazing things together. Tonight, we had a farewell dinner with a big table of friends knowing that we'd never all be together again. As we finished the meal, our port came into view, and the reality of going home hit us. We talked about how much of a shock civilization will be after the great white emptiness of Antarctica.

Ushuaia harbor.

Tomorrow is a travel day. We'll move from the city at the bottom of the world to Buenos Aires, and then, we'll be home the following morning. It's been quite the adventure, and I want to thank all of you for following us. Keep taking a look at this journal as we post pictures from home where the internet is more readily available.

~Jason

C-C-C-OLD!!! (Nov. 25)

2011-12-14T14:01:00.000-08:00

Well, this is both a sad and exciting day! It was the last time we landed in Antarctica. The next time we will disembark the National Geographic Explorer will be in Ushuaia, Argentina! Tonight we begin our journey to once again cross the tumultuous waters of the Drake Passage. We're hoping and praying for a safe and speedy voyage home! We should arrive in Atlanta early on Tuesday! We're also very excited to be back home and see friends and family!

Today we visited a British base here on the Antarctic Peninsula named Port
Lockroy. It was significantly smaller than the seemingly small American base at Palmer. Lockroy is home to only five people that do various jobs from managing the southernmost post office in the world to restoring and preserving the old expeditionary and whaling sites in the area.

Port Lockroy.

The Post Office.

The base itself is only operates in the summer because the entire area is inaccessible in the colder months due to ice, but even during the summer, the members of the base have a very hard time traveling around. It's not that the walking here is much harder than other places on the Peninsula. It's more that they possess no boats or vessels of any kind. Everywhere they go must be on foot, and it's on an island. As I heard it explained, it is a matter of keeping the base small and inexpensive. If they had one boat, they'd have to have a back-up boat. If they had more than one boat, they'd have to have a technician to maintain and fix them. If they had more staff they'd have to have a doctor. With all the new personnel, they'd have to build extra lodging quarters, and then more personnel to build and maintain those. And it goes on and on... What I can't figure out is if they currently operate without a boat, why they couldn't operate it without a back-up boat? If the first one broke, then they'd be back to status quo until next season right?

Penguin on the menu?

Anyone have a can opener?

Standard issue back in the day.

Do these penguins speak with a British accent?

Anyway, after the morning landing, the captain pushed the ship up on to some long awaited fast ice where we got out and ran around and threw snowballs. Afterwards many from the ship chose to take a "polar plunge!" Yes, I partook, and no Jason did not. As I found out from the scientific staff aboard, there are apparently five oceans not four! Our education system has not caught up to the scientific community. So I completed my quest of swimming in all the worlds oceans. The Atlantic, Pacific, Indian, Arctic, and now the Southern Ocean! It was COLD! The captain said it was somewhere between 28 and 30 degrees Fahrenheit, which was much colder than the Arctic Ocean at 34 degrees.

Out on the ice.

The National Geographic Explorer.

Well folks, this will either be my last or next to the last entry before we do any kind of recap when we return! Jason should be covering our next two days at sea. Thank you very much for following so far. It's meant a lot that so many of you at home have decided to keep up with us while we've been traveling these last three weeks!

Thanks again,

And for the final time from the bottom of the world,
Greg

Thanksgiving (Nov. 24)

2011-12-14T13:35:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone back home! Our Thanksgiving has been anything but conventional, but I have even more than usual to be thankful for.

I woke to very first thing I'm thankful for today -- the sun. It seems to circle endlessly here. It shines its light, and by its light, I see the ice and the snow and the sea and sharp mountain peaks. Its light is the reason for all the life I see and have seen, which today especially was incredible.

I'm also thankful for phytoplankton and Antarctic krill today, and by the time you've read the rest, you'll understand why I care about microscopic and very tiny oceanic organisms.

We're right at the end of our time in Antarctica, and my mood was a little mellow and contemplative. I felt as though I've seen so many amazing things that I wouldn't see anything new today. I was kind of hoping for a leopard seal, which I'd already seen but wanted a little better look.

So with that great level of expectation, I boarded a zodiac for a little cruise in the bay. I was content to wonder at the mountains and see the icebergs, and I was beginning to say goodbye to this special place.

As so often happens, I was completely wrong in my attitude. My expectations were far too low. I heard and blowing sound and then saw one of the naturalists point, and he yelled, "KILLER WHALE!" I saw the ripples and then a sharp, black spike materialized out of the sea ice and crested several feet out of the water. The whale disappeared, but I sensed that I needed to look down in the water. The sleek, black shape became clear through the darkness of the water and sped straight toward our zodiac. The whale swam right under us! It was probably close to twice the length of the zodiac. That alone would have made the day, but it wasn't about to end.

Orcinus orca

We soon located the rest of the pod and followed them down the bay as quickly as we could through the thick ice. We caught up and saw one of the whales poke its head above the water to look at the top of the ice floes. The others soon joined in and found a seal on top of one of the large pieces of ice. The next thing I knew, a huge wave crashed against the seal's ice. The whales appeared on the other side as the wave passed through. They coordinated and rushed toward the ice together and dove to make a wave to knock the seal into the sea. As all this coordination and intelligence struck me, another wave struck the seal, and it struggled to keep its place on the ice. The pod turned to look at the seal, and each individual took a look at what they discovered to be a leopard seal. In that moment, I think they decided that the leopard would put up more fight than he was worth. They moved off down the bay again.

Killer whales seal hunting.

It was absolutely amazing to see such teamwork, creativity, and cunning in animals. The knowledge of the physics of making wave and the collaboration to make it happen seems beyond the capabilities of mere animals. This behavior has only been documented in killer whales a handful of times before. Apparently, it's one of the key groundbreaking scenes in the as yet unreleased in the US BBC nature series.

As a friend of mine would say, today was all time.

In the afternoon, our ship was invited to visit the Palmer research station. Palmer is one of only three American research stations in Antarctica. Suffice it to say that some really incredible people endure some really crazy conditions for some really good science. The scientists joined us for our evening recap, and that brings us back to krill. The scientists at Palmer are studying krill as the keystone species in Antarctica. The sun provides the energy for the phytoplankton, and the krill eat the phytoplankton. Everything from penguins to seals eats krill, and the killer whales eat both. Without the sun and krill and phytoplankton, I would have no killer whales to be thankful for.

Palmer Station.

Believe it or not, this was the only sign with Antarctica on it on the whole trip!

We were very at home in Zodiacs.

It all comes full circle. As I write, the sun hangs just above the horizon, and it seems like it's been there for a hour. The glacier next to Palmer is orange, and the ice has choked the harbor so that it looks like white, rocky land. It's the sort of unearthly scene that seems normal in Antarctica.

~Jason

An Antarctic sunset.

Of Overlooks and Kayaks (Nov. 23)

2011-12-14T11:01:00.000-08:00

Alright guys, one more day until Thanksgiving! This morning we anchored the ship in a place called Neko Harbor, which is named after an early twentieth century Belgian whaling vessel. Our group was able to take zodiacs around the area to examine all of the floating pieces of ice and look for wildlife among them. We were able to find numerous groups of Gentoo penguins porpoising through the water looking for fish and a few birds perched on ice bergs, but unfortunately no seals. The harbor itself was simply breathtaking though! Glaciers covered the mountains around the harbor and some of the vistas looked too perfect to be real; it was like a dream!

Neko Harbor.

When our zodiac cruise ended, we landed where the rest of the ship's company were at the Gentoo colony. Nothing against the Gentoos (except for the fact that they smelled horrible!), but the real highlight of the morning was walking up the steep, snow covered hill to overlook the bay! The hill really tempted me to slide down, but they warned us against it at this particular place....sad.....one of the ship's crew brought his snowboard and went down the hill that way! We hung out at the top of the hill overlooking the colony, the mountains and the glaciers, waiting for ice to calve in spectacular fashion.

Overlooking the glacier.

Not much ice fell, but we were rewarded with a particularly odd sight. Four penguins decided to walk up the hill and join us. Penguins seem to be very curious and often hair-brained. It was simply as if they said, "I wonder what's up there," and just kept walking. I don't know what was in their heads. It's like they wondered what those funny colored penguins were doing up there and didn't want to miss anything. Our resident ornithologist has told us repeatedly he doesn't think penguins are the brightest birds in the world. I'm starting to understand why, but they're still funny, awkward, and pretty lovable.

Silly penguins!

We're spending the afternoon in Paradise Harbor. Which if you like ice, then I suppose this fits the bill pretty well. Similar to most of the places that we've been, this is yet again surrounded by glaciers, mountains, and filled with icebergs. I'm not complaining in the least! I'm just trying to convey how much of this place is absolutely covered in glaciers and mountains! It's mind boggling!

This afternoon there was no stepping ashore, but we did get to paddle around the harbor in kayaks, which was more exciting for the trouble of it rather than the kayaking itself! The scene was gorgeous, but the ice kept closing in on us until the point that we got stuck in a small open hole surrounded by brash ice and larger icebergs... As this was happening to everyone, they picked up all the kayakers and took us back to the ship.

And as I just found out, our expedition leader, Lisa, and the geologist, Jason, are getting married today. Best wishes to you both, and may you have a very happy marriage! Congratulations!

~Greg

A Day in the Life (Nov. 22)

2011-12-14T10:41:00.000-08:00

I'm watching the extinct volcano of Deception Island as we sail south. It looks like the sun will be setting soon, but I know that the soft, orange light will stay on the clouds for the next several hours as the sun skirts the horizon. Days are reluctant to end here, and they seem eager to start.

Ours began this morning by moving from the famed Weddell Sea to King George Island in the South Shetland archipelago. The ship pulled into the shallow bay ringed by low hills covered in snow, interrupted only by the occasional black cliff. Orange, red, and blue roofs dotted the hillsides, and an old, gaudy, red and yellow freighter was anchored in the harbor with us and a lone iceberg.

The Harbor at King George Island.

King George Island is home to more research stations than any other area in Antarctica. We made an unplanned stop at the Chilean base because they have an airstrip, and our chief engineer likely broke his leg in the bad weather we had. He's fine, but as an aging gentleman and a veteran sailor, he's upset at himself that he didn't take more care moving around the ship. The sailor's motto is after all, "One hand for you. One hand for the ship."

As we waited for his flight to arrive, we took time to stroll around the Chilean and nearby Russian bases. The researchers went about their daily tasks, painting, carrying garbage, or suiting up for a very cold dive as need be. It was a reminder of what life is like here. There is little room for luxury, and utility is the chief priority. The Russian Bellingshausen Station struck an odd contrast between rusting boxed buildings and the log built Russian Orthodox church on the hill. The Russians were beyond utilitarian in the work buildings but built a beautiful church with ornate iconography on the inside. The whole setting was so out of place. The sounds of working tractors and diesel generators just didn't seem to belong here in Antarctica, yet this is the experience of the only people who live here, even for a brief time.

The Chilean Station.

Hello from "Russia"!

A typical building at the Russian station.

The southernmost Russian Orthodox Church in the world.

The inside of the church, beautiful.

For me, it was a dismal scene and a reminder that I am a stranger here. Life goes on without a single human every day and every year as it always has. The penguins come and go, and whales cruise the deep whether we know it or not. It seems we can only get in the way.

In the afternoon, we called on the Chinstrap penguin colony at Half Moon Island. They didn't seem to mind visitors, and I don't blame them. If my home was half as spectacular as theirs, I would welcome uninvited guests as well. Half Moon is a tiny speck of land in a bay between two much larger islands. Mountains covered in snow and glaciers ring the bay and rise for thousands of feet into the clouds. Deep blue icebergs sit in the bay, and today the weather was beautiful with some sun and very little wind. The penguins nest at several rock outcroppings on top of the island so that they have one of the best views I have ever seen.

An iceberg in Half Moon Bay.

The view from the penguins' doorstep.

Life at the colony is busy these days. It is breeding season. Pairs are seeing each other for the first time after months apart at sea. They dance and call together, (I definitely can't call it singing.) and the males bring pebbles and small stones to the females at the chosen nesting spot. The constant gift giving, noisy displays, and territorial disputes contrast sharply with the lifeless, silent mountain peaks behind them. It was a truly beautiful day. Two humpback whales even decided to leap for joy at the entrance to the bay. Seeing then launch themselves, all 40 feet of themselves, into the air never ceases to amaze me.

This place has so many incredible corners to explore. I'm told that our destination for tomorrow is spectacular even by Antarctic standards, so I'd better get a good night's rest.

~Jason

Ice (Nov. 21)

2011-12-14T10:15:00.000-08:00

Antarctica, the seventh continent. Well, actually, it's my fifth, but most people call it the seventh. It's also called the white continent, and I think I know why. It's also known as the highest, driest, coldest, windiest, and loneliest continent.

When I awoke this morning and looked out the window, I was blinded by the amount of ice outside! There were huge tabular icebergs everywhere. For those of you who don't know what those are... a tabular iceberg is a large iceberg that was once a part of an ice shelf. As glaciers shift down to the sea, ice shelves (tall, flat pieces of ice) break off in long, narrow icebergs about 30x5 miles long. Those are what I first saw when I looked out the window. There is simply a lot of ice!

Tabular ice berg in Antarctic Sound.

Our landing this morning was at an Adelie Penguin colony at Brown Bluff. These little guys are small and quirky, just as you would imagine a penguin would be. Oh, and I forgot to mention that it is much colder here. It snows here a lot and is about 4 degrees Fahrenheit with the wind chill. No longer Chaco weather out on deck unfortunately. Not that it really was before either, but Jason and I have kept to the Chacos so far, much to the bemusement of our shipmates! But we bundled up for this landing and were rewarded with our first continental landing, meaning that we actually set foot on the continent of Antarctica, not just an outlying island. It's exactly as I imagined Antarctica would be when I was little! Lots of ice, very cold, and many, many penguins!

Adelies at Brown Bluff.

We made it to Antarctica!

We had intended on finding some thick ice and running the ship up on it so that we could get out and walk around, but we never found ice that was suitable for this purpose. So we sailed around looking for seals and ice bergs. During dinner the captain even rubbed the front of the ship onto a huge berg and pushed it down the channel quite a ways! Very cool day. And as we came to find out, it was one of the coldest summer days in the last four years!

Pack ice in Erebus and Terror Gulf.

And right before I was about to post this, we saw killer whales!

Greg

Sea (Nov. 20)

2011-12-13T18:02:00.000-08:00

We've spent the past two days at sea, making our way from South Georgia to the Antarctic Peninsula. They've been relatively uneventful, but I'll catch you up on the highlights.

Days at sea can seem either surprisingly busy or smack of sheer boredom. Yesterday was mostly busy with talks from the staff on Robert Falcon Scott, the second man to reach the South Pole who died in the attempt, and some time working with the photo staff on improving creativity in our next few days at Antarctica. The weather was unusually calm with fog and occasional hard snow.

Scott was a remarkable person and an incredible explorer, but I was surprised to learn that he was a troubled soul at some level. His quest for the Pole seemed to reflect his introspective nature and personal insecurities. It seems that he needed Antarctica as a mirror to show who he really was. He needed the wild and unconquered places to test his limits as an explorer and a leader. In his case, Antarctica proved too much. He succeeded in reaching the Pole, but he could not make the return journey. He and all of his men died getting back to base camp. He made it to within 11 miles of a food cache he had prepared, but neither he nor any of his men had the strength to continue on. He froze to death in his tent after writing letters to his men's families and finally a letter to his ever-supportive wife who was on her way to New Zealand in anticipation of his safe return. His story is a tragic success. It reminds me what the few remaining blank places on the map can mean to us. For some, they are testing grounds, to others, mirrors to the depths of their own souls. Still others look to these places to see their own insignificance, see the power they know exists in something greater. Antarctica can be a place to strive for and strive in and through. It's like a mirror. There are as many Antarcticas as there are people who come here, as many images as there are people who look into the mirror. Scott and Shackleton competed for the same Pole, but each experienced a very different Antarctica.

When I woke this morning, I heard a loud vibrating and shaking noise followed by a sort of small crash. Next I felt a rise that kept rising and rising and finally fell with the same shaking. I eventually put together that we were in a storm and that the shaking was the propeller coming out of the water as we crested a big wave. The gale kept blowing all morning. The waves crested and blew spray through the air. We crashed down wave after wave, and most people stayed in their cabins. At breakfast, we heard metallic crashing and banging from the galley and saw crew people carrying power tools -- not a good sign. By lunch it was starting to calm down and everything was fine, but the weather we had was a reminder of just how tough these seas can be. The twenty-odd feet and 45 knots of wind we had can be much much worse, but it was quite enough.

Now we're only about 50 miles from the Continent, and we're very excited to be getting off the ship tomorrow.

~Jason

BIG (Nov. 18)

2011-12-13T17:50:00.000-08:00

Well, this morning we woke up not knowing where we'd be. There are storms brewing between us and Antarctica, and we are in for a fairly rough crossing, or so we're told... The ship will spend the next two days zig-zagging between storms in an attempt to find the calmest crossing possible. As a result, we weren't sure when we woke up whether we'd still be in SGI or already on the move to beat the storms.

We did wake up in SGI, which was always the intended schedule, but we were in the wrong place. Our intended destination was also going to be rough and therefore wasn't a very hospitable place to anchor overnight, so we awoke in a familiar place: Gold Harbor. This was the landing earlier in the week where we had beautiful light, thousands of penguins, and elephant seals! Coming back was always a hope of mine, but typically unusual for these trips. So for me at least, it was a pleasant surprise!

As we departed from Gold Harbor, we said goodbye to SGI in a spectacular fashion, or perhaps I should say that the island gave us a spectacular farewell! The view of the mountains was incredible. All of the peaks were snow covered all the way down to the sea and glaciers surrounded many of the peaks. The peaks looked like daggers trying to slice the cold sky. I couldn't believe the number of sharp mountains! That island is truly a special place! It seemed to be inviting us back to experience all of its hidden wonders!

And that wasn't even the high point of the day!? On our way to Antarctica, we had to take a detour for...whales! Ahhhh, saying that just seems peaceful! We turned towards the distant signs of these great creatures to get a closer glimpse. As we got closer to the numerous whale blows that appeared on the horizon like white trees, we found that we were watching a group of dozens of fin whales feeding on the surface. This is a new type of whale for me, and it happens to be the second largest whale alive! We continued to get closer and closer, but some of the whales didn't look quite the same. Yes, the best thing possible happened, funny how that sometimes happens...! BLUE WHALE! I can't figure any other way to make it sound more exciting. Just seeing one has always been a dream of mine, a point on my life-list! You first see his head break the surface and then the back, and then the back, and then some more of the back, and then finally the tiny little dorsal fin! It was incredible, but then there was a second! We were watching two of not only the largest whale in the world, not only the largest animal in the world, but the largest animal that has EVER lived!!! That's big!

Fin Whales and Blue Whale.

~Greg

Nescit Cedere! (Nov. 17)

2011-12-13T17:40:00.000-08:00

Today was our penultimate day in South Georgia, and it was as action packed as any we've had so far.

The plan for the morning was to use the zodiacs to view several otherwise inaccessible areas. We arrived in a little fjord called Hercules Bay very early this morning. The walls of the bay rise straight from the ocean to form a vertical amphitheater of black rock, unbroken except for a few areas where the hardy tussock grass has been able to colonize the slopes. Our main reasons for visiting this little corner of South Georgia were the other residents of the steep slopes -- Macaroni Penguins. Macaronis, affectionately known as "Macs", are by far the most abundant penguin on South Georgia, but visitors seldom see them because they choose to nest on steep cliffs with heavy surf. We were fortunate enough to visit the colony in Hercules Bay at close range from our zodiacs.

The Macs are a lot of fun to watch. Because they have inaccessible homes, even they have a hard time reaching them. Imagine the last time you got out of a pool. Chances are you weren't especially graceful. Now let's add two feet of swell and make the edge of the pool an algae covered rock with an almost vertical face. Still feeling confident? Just one more thing -- you can't use your arms because you don't have any arms because you're a Macaroni Penguin. That's what your commute home from work is like. The good news is that you can make it to work very quickly. All you have to do is lose your balance, and you'll be at your office as soon as you roll and fall down the rocks and into the icy water.

These amazing animals are just as beautiful as they are crazy. We watched them come and go from the water, swimming straight up through the water to burst out and fly through the air for the briefest of moments before occasionally making a successful landing on the rocky shore and usually slipping hopelessly back into the sea to try again. If that kind of a morning doesn't make it a good day, I don't know what does.

Macaroni Penguins going home.

Oh, the hotel manager decided it was a good idea to serve hot chocolate to us on our boat cruise. Unfortunately, the gentleman in front of me had a hard time keeping his in the cup.

Hot Chocolate all over my face. You should've seen my camera!

The plan for the afternoon was to sail to St. Andrews Bay, the site of the largest King Penguin colony on South Georgia. It is home to 250,000 breeding PAIRS of birds - and they have chicks, lots of them, so the conservative count runs near three quarters of a million animals. If that's not enough, there are elephant seals, fur seals, and even a few (introduced) reindeer to watch. This is the sort of amazing place we've come to expect from South Georgia, but the scale of St. Andrews blew me away. I think I scared everyone on the bridge when I spontaneously blurted out, "whoah!" while we were approaching the bay. I had just noticed that the whole coastline was covered with penguins. Surprisingly enough, the penguins were upstaged this afternoon. The weather stole the show as a storm kept trying to blow in over the mountains and down the two glaciers that feed the bay. The storm never came in, but catabatic winds blew a cold wind off the glaciers carrying particles of ice and dust and whipping the sea up into foam and spray. We had to stand into the wind, and after a little while, the captain called us back on board. By this time the wind was blowing a consistent 55 knots and gusted to over 70. The crew and the zodiac drivers (our naturalists and professional photographers) got everyone back on board quickly and safely, but the zodiac ride in was... Energetic.

The St. Andrews king penguin colony with a storm coming in.

Greg, with the rest of the penguin colony.

What struck me as I was riding back in the zodiac while I was soaked by the spray and pelted by the wind were a few little sea birds no bigger than a swallow. The storm-petrels were riding the punishing wind as though it were a gentle breeze. They were truly at home, wheeling just above the waves and plucking tiny bits of food out of the foam as spray blew from the tops of the waves. At that moment, I realized just how out of place I am in the great Southern Ocean and just how tough you have to be to live here. That's why James Edward Oglethorpe was so struck by the persistence of these little seabirds on his crossing from England to found the colony of Georgia long before this island was on the map. His fascination with this bird led my alma mater, Oglethorpe University, to name their mascot the Stormy Petrels. We also use his motto, "Nescit cedere," the Latin for "He doesn't know how to give up," as our motto. It applies to the petrel as it does to the Macaroni Penguin and all who survive in the Antarctic, especially the heroes of Antarctic exploration like Shackleton, as Greg reminded us yesterday. It's an inspiration to all of us to strive hard and never, never give up.

So we braved the weather, entered our comfortable, heated ship for a hot shower, and continued on for the evening to cruise Drygalski Fjord. We're still in the fjord as I write and sit and listen to one of our naturalists and another guest play mellow tunes from Hendrix and the Beatles after dinner. It's all just another day on board the Explorer!

Drygalski Fjord.

Until tomorrow, friends, and nescit cedere.

~Jason

Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton (Nov. 16)

2011-12-13T16:37:00.000-08:00

Today was all about Shackleton. He was one of the most epic men that lived during the twentieth century. Here's a short recap of what he did in case you didn't know.

In 1914, he led an expedition to cross the Antarctic continent through the South Pole. He and his crew sailed to the Weddell Sea to begin their expedition, but their ship, the Endurance, was frozen in the pack ice. Shackleton decided to wait out the Antarctic winter for the ice to thaw and release their ship, but it was eventually crushed and sank, leaving the 28 men to their three life boats. They sailed in the life boats to Elephant Island where Shackleton left two of the boats and 22 of his men behind. He and five other men then sailed for over 800 miles in 15 days to South Georgia Island! They rigged a sail on their largest lifeboat, the James Caird (24.5 feet), and navigated by taking solar readings, but the sun only appeared four times throughout the voyage! Upon landing on the western side of the island, Shackleton and two others made the trek across the island to reach the only active whaling camp at Stromness. They completed this nearly 22 mile section in only 39 hours, crossing glaciers, climbing over, and rappelling down mountains all during the winter! One of the men even fell through a frozen lake up to his waist before completing the trip. Overall, they spent more than a year to struggle back!

Shackleton came off the glacier all the way in back of the photo.

This is the lake where Tom Crean fell through the ice.

Shackleton's first view of the Stromness whaling station.

Shackleton's Waterfall, the three men nearly died descending the cliff on the right.

Stromness.

Shackleton is known for perhaps the most spectacular failure ever! He did not cross Antarctica. He didn't even really begin to attempt it before the ship got stuck! The reason his failure has been memorialized is not just because of how he returned to civilization, but that he did all of what I previously described, without losing a single man! Truly epic!

Today we completed the last four miles of this intrepid journey. The hike was beautiful! The ship dropped us off in Fortuna Bay and picked us up on the other side of the pass at the Stromness whaling station where Shackleton ended his adventure. The whaling station, in case you were wondering, has long since been out of use. The afternoon was spent in the"capital" of SGI, Grytviken, which has a post office, museum, fishery officer, and a hydroelectric power plant, but only a handful of people. Shackleton died here aboard the Quest in 1922 and was buried in the small cemetery outside the town. While we visited he grave, there was actually a beautiful rainbow, the end of which coincidentally rested on the site where he died.

A full size replica of the James Caird.

The Grytviken Church.

"To the dear memory of Ernest Henry Shackleton -- Explorer.

Born 15th Feb. 1874. Entered the Life Eternal 5th Jan. 1922."

Shackleton's gravestone had a caption from his favorite poet on the back.

"I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life's set prize."
~Robert Browning

I have no idea what Browning intended by the quote or how Shackleton interpreted or applied it, but it leads me to what I mentioned in one of my earlier entries. I listened to a message of Francis Chan's as he spoke on Philippians 1:27, about letting your manner of life be worthy of the gospel. What a challenge! I don't think I'm striving like I could or should be, but maybe that's why I'm being reminded about it lately....

What is your life's prize? Do you strive for it?

~Greg

Wow! (Nov. 15)

2011-12-13T15:52:00.000-08:00

Describing the past two days is impossible for me. South Georgia is more amazing than I imagined. This place is truly special. I've never visited anywhere quite like it.

For those of you who are not familiar with this incredible place or think I'm speaking of the southern portion of my home state (which is also pretty special), South Georgia is an island southeast of South America and a little northeast of the Antarctic Peninsula. Its about 100 miles long, 20 miles wide, and has peaks ranging from an average of about 5,500 feet to a high of about 9,500. It has black sand beaches, glaciers, fjords, mountains, streams, and waterfalls. It's as though a mountain range simply rose out of the ocean. This island feels more like a continent than an island when you set foot on it.

Typical South Georgia

Amazingly enough, it gets even better. The beaches are literally covered with wildlife. From thousands and hundreds of thousands of beautiful, comical King Penguins to hundreds of giant elephant seals or the aggressive fur seals, every time we set foot ashore we are surrounded.

Gold Harbor and the National Geographic Explorer.

Greg and Elephant Seal pups.

When I first saw Salisbury Plain for yesterday's landing, I was overwhelmed. I didn't know where to look or how to see it all. This morning's landing at Gold Harbor was even more overwhelming. As my feet hit the sand, I walked between two Elephant seal bulls, each weighing around 6 tons, to see the mountains with a hanging glacier and an icefall all behind a king penguin colony. It may have been the most dynamic place I have ever been. At one time, I was watching an albatross at its nest while looking down at thousands of king penguins with a beautiful mountain backdrop, seeing the largest carnivores on earth (yep the Southern Elephant seal, as long as you exclude whales) battle for mastery of the beach, and watching the glacier calve down in a giant waterfall of ice and all that with amazing weather, a rarity in South Georgia. Overwhelming.

This afternoon, we went for a hike from another beach up to a mountain pass to see the next bay over and the main mountain range on the island. The view from the top was awesome.

Mountain pass overlooking Cumberland Bay.

This was the high point of our hike.

I'm sure there's a lot more to say, but I'm not really sure how to say it. I'm just really glad and thankful to be here.

~Jason

Penguins, Penguins, and More Penguins (Nov. 14)

2011-12-13T14:09:00.001-08:00

Today, we visited South Georgia Island for the first time! This was day one out of the five that we will be spending here. As usual, we landed on two separate sites, one in the morning and one in the evening. In the morning, we visited Salisbury Plain, and we visited Prion Island in the afternoon.

The morning was absolutely amazing! It happens to be the exact place from the picture that first inspired me to go here many years ago. One of my favorite photographers, Thomas Mangelsen had a coffee table book with a lot of pictures from this place, and the real place seems just as enticing as I first imagined it. The rocky beach is surrounded by snow covered mountains and glaciers! There were over one hundred thousand king penguins at this one beach! Yeah, that's right, 100,000. Count them, five zeroes!

Just us and a few friends at Salisbury Plain.

We landed on the beach early this morning for a try at a sunrise shot, but it was completely overcast and has been quite foggy all day. But we still managed to get some really special pictures! The beach was absolutely covered with penguins waiting to hop into the surf, and the male fur seals and elephant seals were also present, staking claim to their piece of the beach for the upcoming breeding season. (Small note: I do not care for the fur seals. They are actually quite aggressive and smell almost as badly.)

The penguins here are quite curious. When you sit down to their level or when they relax, they will walk right up to you, which is really cool, but sometimes they're too close to focus your camera. They also have the typical penguin waddle and awkward head movements that make them seem so comical!

The afternoon was not quite as good as the morning, but the naturalists kept telling us how special it was to land there. The weather has to be calm enough, and you must obtain a special permit to land here. In addition to that, this is the only place that visitors (meaning anyone other than researchers or government officials) can see a wandering albatross on its nest. The Wanderers as we call them, just happen to be the birds with the largest wingspans in the world. We managed to see 5-6 chicks on nests, but no adults were present. They were out to sea gathering food for their chicks. Now I say chick, but that may be misleading. This is a semi-fluffy bird that weighs around 25 pounds and is larger than its parents. After all of their feathers finish developing and the parents leave them, they actually have to lose weight to fly for the first time. Without the parents arriving though, the photography wasn't so good.

Oh and Jason is "pumped" because we saw the South Georgia Pipit, which is apparently the most southern songbird in the world. So, on a ship with many birders in a "prime" birding location with guides and an ornithologist who specializes in sea birds, I've come to notice something... Jason's birding habit is closer to the level of the ornithologist than many of the self-proclaimed birders aboard. I think we all knew he had the bug, just not how badly, lol.

The "mighty" South Georgia Pipit!

Anyway, hoping for another great day on SGI!

Oh and for everyone back at PCC in Atlanta. Thinking and praying for y'all! Managed to get some additional time aboard ship yesterday to watch one of the Passion 2011 videos of Francis Chan. So good! And I happen to have enough to watch one each Sunday that we're missing at PCC! Can't wait for Passion 2012 at the Dome!

Greg

The Albatross (Nov. 12)

2011-12-13T14:08:00.000-08:00

The short version of today's update is that we were at sea all day and that we'll make our first landing in South Georgia in the morning.

What I'd like to try to do is explain albatrosses to you. I've learned quite a lot about them in the past several days, and they're really special birds.

As a birder, it's expected that I love birds, but quite often I find myself seeking the birds because it's something to be sought rather than because it's a bird. Albatrosses are very different. They instantly remind me of what only a bird can do -- fly. These giant birds soar on the wind and ride it in ways that seem to defy what's possible. They can ride the wind for hours on end without a single wingbeat. The air and the the sea are their native element. When the winds blow and the seas rise, they take to the sky and make it their playground. Wheeling through a strong gale and driving rain only inches from the waves seems to be their idea of fun. They hardly ever go to land, but when they do, they pick the wildest, most remote islands in the world and make their homes on the crags above the crashing waves. They don't land often, so they really only manage a controlled crash. Coming home to land is the only thing they don't do gracefully though. When mates see each other after an absence, they greet each other with a beautiful ritualized dance and carefully clean each other's feathers. It's amazing to watch. I feel privileged to be in the Southern Ocean that such amazing creatures call home.

~Jason

A Fond Farewell to the Falklands (Nov. 11)

2011-12-13T11:40:00.000-08:00

National Geographic Explorer, at sea:

As I write, we are en route from the Falkland Islands to South Georgia. We've spent the entire day at sea without a speck of land anywhere in sight.

Yesterday we visited Stanley, the capital of the Falklands. The town sits on a bay on the far eastern end of the islands looking smart as any English town should, but its bright roofs seem a little out of place. We toured the main attractions in town in the morning. (I think there are only three.) In the afternoon, I went birding on foot near the ship. The prize of the day was the Rufous-chested Dotterel, a plover rather like a killdeer. This basically meant a clean sweep of the important birds of the Falklands for me, which is exciting.

The Falklands Whaling Museum.

The Falklands War Memorial, for those who died in the 1982 conflict.

Stanley Harbor.

Next we said goodbye and set sail for South Georgia. This was honestly bittersweet for me. To me, the Falklands were just a bit magical. They're so remote and windswept that they should be a wasteland, but there are so many incredible creatures that choose to call them home. From the tiny Cobb's wren that only lives in the Falklands to the great colonies of penguins and albatrosses, I was simply amazed. I'll have to find a way to express to you what it was like for me to be in such close proximity to so many gorgeous albatross, but I'm afraid I'm not up to the task tonight.

Goodnight and know there's more to come,
Jason

Rockstars and Little Brown Jobs (Nov. 9)

2011-12-13T11:32:00.000-08:00

We made landfall for the first time today! When we awoke, we had finally reached one of our three long awaited destinations: the Falkland Islands. It is no wonder the British claimed and settled these islands over two hundred years ago; they strongly resemble the grassy hilltops of the Scottish Highlands! They must have arrived and thought, hmmm I bet I can put a bunch of sheep here!

Greg looking over West Point Island.

The small islands in the background are the Jason Islands.

The endemic LBJ, the Cobb's Wren.

The other endemic, the Falklands Steamer-Duck.

We landed on two of the islands: Carcass Island and West Point. The morning and afternoons on both islands were spent walking about looking at the various flora and fauna of the islands, mainly birds... Jason was quite happy. He was thrilled to see the two endemics (birds that live only in the Falklands). One was an LBJ the other was a flightless duck that I am surprised could even walk because he was so fat! We did see three different colonies of penguins, all different species. My favorites were the Rockhopper penguins, which were nested among hundreds of albatrosses. Many albatrosses were flying overhead, some only inches above our heads, as they tried to land among the crowded rocks! These albatrosses fly gracefully at sea sometimes for years before returning to land. Because of this, they are particularly bad at landings, which makes them quite comical! The rockhoppers climb cliffs out of the sea to nest on a rock cliff hundreds of feet above the water. They also have little yellow feathers above their red eyes that look like golden eye brows and an attitude that seems to say, "I'm fat and I like it!" Very simply stated, they got spunk!

All in all, I am happy to watch penguins and albatrosses, the other birds take some patience as I wait for the groups of people to find them in their binoculars and look for a tiny brown bird flitting around in a tussock of grass. Jason is at home of course! I enjoyed walking around and savored being ashore as we will spend Saturday and Sunday at sea on our way to South Georgia Island. Each time we left the island by zodiac, we were greeted by dolphins that were only too happy to surf in our wake! Tomorrow we will arrive at Stanley, which is the major settlement and bustling metropolis home to....2000 to 2500 people.

Rockhopper Penguins.

Black-browed Albatross.

~Greg

At Sea (Nov. 8)

2011-12-13T07:02:00.000-08:00

Today was spent at sea between the Tierra del Fuego and the Falkland Islands.

I woke this morning and felt the gentle rise and fall of the ship that had been rocking me to sleep all night. We are fortunate that this is a gentle rocking rather than the sound beating the sea can give you. As I opened the shade to look outside, I was immediately greeted by a seemingly smiling Cape Petrel, one of several species of seabirds that would be our companions all day.

A day at sea can seem boring to some, relaxing to others, but to the very observant, it changes constantly. As wind rises or falls, the seas become more choppy or smoother, and the birds respond to the wind that carries then and powers their graceful flight.

I saw the very first albatross only moments after opening the shade for the window, and they are amazing! They fly inches above the waves without flapping and never seem to move even a single muscle. They are more home in the air than I am on land. I see how they can spend years at sea without returning to land.

As the day progressed, it became apparent that the empty, featureless sea is neither empty nor featureless. Groups of albatrosses and penguins were visible signs of concentrations of sea creatures below the surface. South American fur seals looked up at us with their dog-like faces and turned swimming quickly away. Currents and variations invisible or nearly invisible to us are clear landmarks to the animals of the sea.

Besides all that, life on the ship can be busy. There are shipmates to meet, meals to be eaten, lectures to be heard, and maybe even a little sleep to be had.

We capped it all off tonight with a full moon rising over a glassy sea with the pink and purple from the sunset still lighting the horizon.

Not a bad day.

~Jason

The City at the End of the World (Nov. 8)

2011-12-13T04:42:00.000-08:00

Tonight I'm writing from our new home on board the National Geographic Explorer. We embarked ship this afternoon and are now on our way the Falkland Islands.

This morning we rose early to say our goodbyes to Buenos Aires. Greg and I agree that it's a very interesting city and that one day simply can't do it justice. We then got on a plane and flew South (I'm sure you're sensing the theme here).

After four hours, we landed at the city at the end of the world, Ushuaia, Argentina. As I left the airport, I was immediately reminded of Alaska by the sharp peaks with a dusting of snow above the sea. We then drove through Tierra del Fuego National Park to Lamanaia Bay, which is the official southern end of the Pan-American highway. Greg and I had visited the northern end at the Arctic Ocean in Deadhorse, Alaska in 2008. I couldn't help but be struck by how different this was. At the Arctic Ocean, it was the culmination of a very long journey. We were in the wilderness, and we were well aware how small we were. Here, we had just gotten off of a plane and been in a city of over 10 million people. It seemed strange and actually a lot like cheating that we had gotten there so easily.

We then took a catamaran ride and saw some interesting wildlife. Today's South American sea lions will be the only ones of our trip. They don't like the cold seas further south. I also saw a few birds which I'm sure would only interest me, so I won't bore you with the details.

The good news is that this is only the beginning of this journey. We have many incredible places yet to visit, and the Explorer seems like the perfect ship to take us there. I can't even begin to tell you how well equipped it is for this kind of expedition. It's ice reinforced, stabilized and has more technology aboard than most state of the art airliners. I'll have more on the ship tomorrow as it is a day at sea on our way to the Falklands.

~Jason

Palaces to Mausoleums: The Life of Argentine Presidents (Nov. 7)

2011-12-12T18:58:00.000-08:00

I am writing this in the CaesarPark Hotel of Buenos Aires, but by the time any of you read this, we will besailing for the Falkland Islands. Apparently,Internet is as expensive in Buenos Aires as it is aboard ship, so we opted towait the posting of this entry until we were aboard our floating, temporaryhome.

We arrived safely in Buenos Airesthis morning. After clearing customs, we spent roughly an hour and a half bycar just getting to our hotel. Although we drove on the world’s widest road (LaAvenida 9 de Julio), we were still subject to the detriments of every majorcity's transportation systems: traffic! The hotel is amazing and quitecomfortable, but we will spend only one night here. With what little spare timewe had, we decided to take a bus tour of the city with some of the otherLindblad guests. We visited what is supposedly the worlds 3rd mostselective cemetery, which was filled almost completely with mausoleums....fun....Soonafter arriving, I realized those places really creep me out. We did see theresting sites of many Argentine presidents, Eva Peron, and even the Nobel Prizewinner responsible for the discovery of lactose, but in the end, it was still aderelict place reminding me of our impermanence and fleeting lives in a worldthat we consider to be the only constant. Plated coffins and marbledcrypts bear no consequence in the ethereal yet wonderfully concrete world oftomorrow.

Later, we moved through the streetsand squares and found the presidential palace, a beautiful cathedral, and otherbuildings and statues representing the tumultuous past of Argentina from thetime of the Spanish to the war with Britain or their own civil war that beganin the late 1970s.

All in all, Buenos Aires was abeautiful city, but I'd much rather see the natural beauty of southernArgentina! Tomorrow, we depart from the hotel very early in the morning to fly4 hours to the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia! We'll get to spend a fewhours in the Tierra del Fuego national park cruising through the islands beforefinally arriving at the NationalGeographic Explorer!

~Greg

Hasta Luego Atlanta (Nov. 6)

2011-12-12T17:00:00.000-08:00

Well today is the day! We've officially embarked on our journey by saying our goodbyes, and now we're waiting for our flight in the Atlanta airport.

Driving here we felt as though we were saying goodbye to family and friends, home and our city, and even fall. The leaves in Atlanta are gorgeous right now, but when we wake up in the morning, it will be summer in Buenos Aires. Just yesterday we watched some dear friends of ours get married (CONGRATS!) in a beautiful chapel in the woods surrounded by fall color in greens, golds, oranges, and reds, but soon all we will see is whites of snow, ice, and cloud, blacks and greys of mountains and rocks, and the blues of sky and sea. It's simply surreal.So long for now Atlanta, we'll be home soon!

~Jason and Greg

We're Going to Antarctica! (Nov. 4)

2011-12-12T16:58:00.000-08:00

Hello Friends!

Welcome to the online journal for our expedition to Antarctica, South Georgia, and the Falkland Islands! This journal will function kind of like a blog, but it will also track our progress on the map and show the route of this journey. Greg and I would like to thank you for following along and reading because we want to share an incredible place and an incredible experience with everyone back home.

When I tell people that we’re going to Antarctica, most people either respond with “What are you doing there?” or simply, “Why?”. To be really honest, this response confused me at first. I’m sorry if you’re one of the ones who has asked me these questions, but I think I’ve come to understand why you ask. My initial reaction is, “What do you mean by that? Isn’t just being in Antarctica enough?”

Maybe your mental image of Antarctica looks like a giant, barren wasteland of snow and ice. You’re imagining blizzards, whiteouts, maybe even avalanches, and you might be shivering even while sitting in Starbucks reading this. The interesting thing is that you’d be right. Antarctica, taken as a whole, is the highest, driest, coldest, windiest, most barren continent on earth. It has the world’s worst weather, and the coldest recorded temperatures on earth. Little to no life survives in the interior.

It’s wonderful that this is not the whole story of the land at the bottom of the world. As all continents are, Antarctica is surrounded by water. What makes it special in this case is the great Southern Ocean. This constantly cold water is the most productive on earth, and it’s the reason we’re traveling to the bottom of the world. Think about millions of penguins, albatrosses, seals, and whales. They all thrive in the freezing ocean. The sea is their home, and for three weeks it will be our home as well.

Our journey to the extreme south takes us by way of Buenos Aires, Argentina to the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia, in the Tierra del Fuego. This is the land of Magellan, Cape Horn, and thousands of seafarers now legendary for braving the toughest seas on earth. This is where we’ll join the National Geographic Explorer, our home and transportation to Antarctica.

Take a look at the map of our journey and see where the Explorer will take us. We’re excited to start and hope you’ll join us!

~Jason

Antarctica

2011-12-12T16:55:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone!I'm resurrecting this long-neglected blog to share about my recent trip to Antarctica. I'll be reposting entries written during the trip.

The Dalton Highway

2008-07-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

Hello again. The road is calling, but I'm going to take time out to update you on the trip.

After Delta Junction and the end of the Alaska Highway, we did not take a rest like sane and normal human beings. Instead, we decided that we'd done well so far and continued to move north. We drove through Fairbanks and continued on our way to the Arctic Circle, the northernmost road in the US, the Arctic Ocean, and the furthest point of our trip from home. The Dalton Highway runs 494 miles from Fairbanks, AK to Deadhorse at the Prudhoe Bay oilfield. It is a mostly gravel road for supplying the small city at the top of the world all for one thing -- oil. Our goal, however, is not to find oil, but an incredible part of the continent that few people ever visit.

Fairbanks lies in a huge plain right in the middle of Alaska. To the north, hills rise and roll up and then down to the Yukon River. It runs for 2,400 miles from Atlin Lake in British Columbia to the Bering Sea. After the Yukon, the road again rises into the hills. Here, the trees become stunted, especially in low, flat areas. The trees can't grow roots through the permafrost and have a very short growing season. Even further north, open tundra become intermixed with the dwarf forests. Next comes the Arctic Circle. The Arctic Circle is the latitude line 66 33' 39". It is the southernmost point at which there is 24 hour daylight.

Sorry to be so didactic, I'll try to tone it down. Our biggest shock at this point came when we got out of the car to take the picture. We were instantly swarmed by mosquitoes. Let me take a moment to explain my prior experience with these insects. I've fished in the Everglades and other swamps countless times. I've paddled in the Boundry Waters, where mosquitoes literally sounded like a motor boat. I've been to Alaksa and experienced the state bird on seven previous occasions. I thought I knew mosquitoes. Sadly, I was wrong. Greg and I stepped out of the car, and we were immediately confronted with them. They looked like a cloud of nats, but they were bigger, much bigger. I waved my hand randomly and hit several. I brushed five off of the right arm of my jacket, and then I knew that this would be a long trip. We ran to take the picture and fled inside the car. I'd never seen mosquitoes like that, but it only got worse. The Arctic tundra continues and becomes more prevalent north of the Circle.

The Brooks Range in contained entirely north of the Arctic Circle and has several peaks over 9,000 feet. This is one of the most extreme environments on the planet. Coldfoot on the south side has the record for the lowest recorded temperature in the US at eighty below. During most of May, June, and July, the sun never sets, and the reverse is true for the winter. We camped just outside Coldfoot and braved the worsening mosquitoes.

From Coldfoot, it's 240 miles to the nearest services of any kind at Deadhorse. This is the longest stretch of road without gas in the US. Pressing on the Ocean means crossing the Brooks Range and leaving all trees behind. From here it's all tundra, and you can see for miles and miles and miles. The absense of trees gives the mountains a forbidding, harsh character. We crossed the pass and looked out for the first time on the North Slope. The land falls away in gold and green tundra interspersed with ponds and bogs. We thought we could see all the way to the coast, but it was a mirage. This landscape continues for well over a hundred miles. Many would call this a barren wasteland, but there is no place left like this on earth. The Great Plains have been civilised and farmed so that the endless grasslands are gone. The buffalo no longer roam and the antelope no longer play. There's something majestic and terrifying about the Arctic Plains. You can stand and look in all directions and see nothing all the way to the horizon. Here, you realize your own smallness your own frailty. We live in a constant state of shelter. We stay in our towns and know that the nearest hospital is only a few miles away. We see the comforting presence of our fellow human beings all around us. Out on the Arctic Plains you can be over a hundred miles in every direction from a town, a gas station, anything. You stand and look and realize that your securities are gone. Trees or hills which might divert your attention from the fact that you're on your own and tiny are absent. The concept of forever takes on a new meaning. It's like looking at the stars, but with stargazing there is relief. Look at the land around you and you'll see something, anything to bring you back to your own sense of time, place, and scale. In the Arctic, you have no relief. There is no comforting presence. There will be no darkness to hide it. It's endless day in the endless plains.

But eventually they do end. There is an end of the road. It's called Deadhorse. I don't know what I expected to find there, but I know I hadn't expected the reality. Deadhorse is the support town for the Prudhoe Bay oilfield. It's a world-class industrial operation. The only way to describe the architectural style is Soviet. There's more heavy eqiupment there than I have seen in my life. The sound is a constant drone of diesel engines. There are heavy and light machinery repair shops. There are six airports, over a dozen companies, and everything you could possibly need to pump and transport oil and anything you could possibly need to repair or replace that stuff. It's incredibly well concieved and organized, but I still can help but think that it's out of place.

You have to buy a tour to go the Arctic Ocean because of oil company security regulations, but we had to go. The Arctic is calm and not very salty, but it is cold. Greg brought a bathing suit and decided to swim, but I only went wading.

Our return trip, we saw it all a second time and even some musk oxen to finish it off. The musk ox looks like a moving brown stack of hay at first, but then you see horns and decide to convince yourself that this is a real animal. A baby musk ox looks exactly like an adult, but smaller. They're easily the strangest animal I've ever seen.

We stopped on the northern side of the Brooks Range and watched the midnight sun. It looked like it was about 6pm at home. That much daylight really does mess with you. It's tough to know when to sleep and when to eat and when to be awake, but if you make yourself, you can believe that it's time to sleep, so that's what we did.

There's more to come, as always.

The Alaska Highway

2008-07-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm sorry it's been so long. Internet and cell service have once again been difficult to come by. We're now in Cooper's Landing, AK on the Kenai Peninsula. It's been over 3,000 hard miles since the last entry, so I'll try my best to catch you up.

We left Edmonton to head north to Alaska. The word, "highway" has a different meaning up here than it does in the lower 48. A highway essentailly is any paved road of any size, but even some dirt roads qualify. The Alaska Highway is mostly two lane and paved, but there are some pretty long gravel sections. After Edmonton, you travel to Dawson Creek, BC. Dawson Creek is a fairly large town and the official start of the highway. The terrain is exceptionally flat in this section, but rather than the grassy plains of the US, there is the great boreal forest. Endless conifers line the road in uniform green for literally hundreds of miles. After Dawson Creek, there is a long series of river valleys and eventually, you reach Fort Nelson. Fort Nelson is the last thing most people would call a town before Whitehorse. From here in, towns consist of a gas station, a restaurant, and a hotel. That's it. At Watson Lake, there's an interesting roadside attraction. The Watson Lake Signpost Forest contains well over 60,000 signs and license plates from all over the world. Chances are that wherever you're from there's already a sign here for you, but you are encouraged to add your own. We found a sign from Buford, GA and a Lightnin' RV license plate!

On the road we saw some elk and buffalo as well as Stone Sheep, a close relative of the Bighorn that lives in BC and the Northen Territories, and a bunch of black bears. We one sow with two cubs and two others with one each. They were grazing on shrubs that grow on the side of the road. Greg got great photographs. The next day on the road from Watson Lake to Whitehorse we saw three grizzlies doing the same thing. They were content to watch us from the shoulder and eat wildflowers. We then pressed on to Tok, AK. We were excited to finally be in Alaska and back in the USA. Canada is nice, but Alaska feels like home in comparison.

From Tok, we drove North. Tok is at about 65 degress N latitude, and we stayed up to 10:30 looking for the sun to set, but the sun was still very high in the sky, so we decided to call it. From Tok, the road continues to Delta Junction and the official end of the Alaska Highway. It's 1444 miles from Dawson Creek to Delta Junction. There's a lot more for me to narrate, and it onlt gets better, but the fish are calling me from the river, so I'll continue catching up tomorrow.

Canada, Eh!

2008-06-24T10:19:00.000-07:00

OK, so I’ve been delinquent in blogging. What can I say? My parents have been a bad influence on me. We met up in Banff National Park, Alberta for a few days, and we’ve been busy catching up and having fun. They’re now returning to Atlanta, and we’re sad that they have to go home, but we’re also anxious to get on the move again. We can certainly say, “Wish you were here!” Anyway, let me update all of you on the past few days.

We drove from Glacier National Park north via the Russville border crossing into British Columbia on our way to Banff. The first thing we noticed was metric speed limits. The highest I’ve seen is 100 kph, which is about 62 mph. More often, the speed limit is either 90 kph or even 70 kph. I find these limits ridiculously slow. Since Texas, the speed limit on every major road has been 75 mph, which says to me, “Pick your speed. It’s an empty road, what do we care?” and I like it. I can pick the optimum running speed for both making time and conserving gas. Canada won’t let me do either one. To make matters worse, we have no idea what the reasonable speeding margin is. In the US, you know how fast you can really go on a road no matter what the sign says, but in Canada, 5 mph over is more like 10 kph over, and that’s a big number. If you’re not careful, you can go 30 over in the metric system. Anyway, I’m definitely sold on the Imperial system for driving. Miles > kilometers, ‘nuff said.

The drive up to Banff is quite pretty. You pass greener than green meadows, blue-green lakes, and follow lazy rivers up to the mountains. They are as steep and forbidding as the valleys are serene and inviting. As we neared Banff, we entered Kootenay National Park. I’m pretty sure that “Kootenay” is an Athabaskan word, but it sounds like it was made for Canada. Say it a few times out loud and see what you think. Yes, you will definitely feel like a goof ball saying “Kootenay” out loud, but it’s pretty fun. The park follows several river valleys up to the Continental Divide. The mountains loom and seem to lean over the valleys with their dark slopes peppered with snow. Deer graze on both sides of the road, and the glow of the departed sun is still visible at 9:30 pm. As we cross the divide, we enter Banff National Park and are treated with views of even more fantastically-shaped mountains. Some are pyramids, other sleeping giants, one is very clearly a castle, and some defy description. At the southern end of the park, we find the town of Banff settled into a narrow valley beneath Mt. Rundle with its sheer cliffs facing the town and smooth slope descending into marshes and ponds north of town. On one side of a canyon, stands a castle. It has multiple spires and turrets and a beautiful courtyard. Dad informs us that this is our hotel for the night. The Fairmont Banff Springs is clearly first class. A castle is the only way to describe it, but unfortunately we can only stay for the night.

The next day, we explored the area around town. There are multiple lakes reflecting the mountains, and each one has a character of its own. Some are narrow, others circular. Some have a blue green color, others are turquoise. Bighorn sheep claim one of the parking areas and seem to dare people to try to move them from their own territory. We naturally give them their space and move on. We eventually reach Lake Louise, our destination for the night. The lake itself is the most perfect turquoise I have ever seen. High mountains surround it on three sides, and at the end, rises Mount Victoria with the Victoria Glacier. The blue ice is suspended in a perpetual fall down the mountain. Our hotel is the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise right on the lakeshore. It’s not a castle, but it is more modern and elegant than Banff Springs. It has about eight restaurants and extremely luxurious accommodations. Mom and Dad really went all out. They’ll certainly remember where they spent their 30th anniversary, Congratulations!, and they were generous enough to put us up in the same hotel.

On our second full day in the Canadian Rockies, we drove the Icefields Parkway north to Jasper National Park. It would be a fruitless exercise for me to describe all the noteworthy views, so I won’t begin to try. It was a long day, but we enjoyed the time for the four of us to catch up and talk in such grand surroundings. Yesterday, we travelled over to Yoho National Park. It’s on the western side of the divide and is consequently much wetter than Banff, not that Banff is dry. The sun only deigned to show his face our first day. It has been cool, cloudy, and occasionally raining since. Yoho contains more mountain scenery, one of the highest waterfalls in Canada, and a little jewel called Emerald Lake. The water is green. The grass is green. The trees are green. The whole landscape is one shade of green or another. The whole effect is like a black and white photo. As light and shadow become more prominent without color, the little nuances of greenness become apparent when it is the only color to be found. There’s so much depth in even one color you could study it all day, but we only stayed for lunch.

Today, we transferred gear back and forth and prepared for the journey to Alaska, and for Mom and Dad, the journey home.

Bears and the Art of Rock Skipping

2008-06-17T20:06:00.001-07:00

So we left Jackson and traveled north through Yellowstone and into Montana. On our way, we found a bear. According to a ranger, he was a two year old cub who had just killed an elk calf. We watched the bear at fairly close range for almost an hour before he decided he was done with us and left.

Our trip up through Yellowstone and into Montana was relatively uneventful. There was a traffic jam because a few bison decided to use the road as a trail, but this too was routine. Traveling north through Montana, we decided that it’s one of the prettiest states we’ve been through. It seems to be all green meadows and tall pine trees. The first thing we noticed was the smell. I’m sure you know how a Christmas tree makes your whole house smell great… Well, Montana has millions of Christmas trees, so most of the state smells pine fresh.

Our destination in Montana was Glacier National Park. Glacier is one of the most popular and famous national parks for its mountain scenery and grizzly bears. Unfortunately there’s been so much snow that the road over the pass still hasn’t opened. Every year, the park service has to plow Going to the Sun Road to open it from June through October. At the beginning of the season, the road can have up to 100 feet of snow covering it. Opening the road is a tremendous task every year, but this year it has been especially difficult. Only last week over two feet of snow accumulated at the pass. Snow has been the story of the year here as it was in Yellowstone. We decided to move to the east side of the park and check out the Two Medicine area.

48.4881,-113.367

Two Medicine Valley is a long, deep valley into steep-walled peaks with several lakes at the head of the valley. Two Medicine Lake is surrounded by steep peaks and a mountain that amounts to a wall on one side and a pyramid-shaped mountain at one end. The spot is incredibly peaceful. The only sounds are the wind, water lapping at the pebbles, and the occasional bird. Fresh air blows out of the mountains and down across the lake. The mountain air is cool but sharp and invigorating. Water falls out of the lake and down the valley in a small creek. The beach is made of smoothed rocks in fantastic colors. Deep reds and greens predominate in the rocks. When they shine underwater, it gives the lake a jewel-like appearance. As the cool wind blows and the sun descends below the peaks, we decide to stay a while and skip stones. Two Medicine Lake seems designed for rock skipping. Each rock is the perfect size and many are smooth and flat. The water is calm, and the scene is peaceful. We spend the last minutes before sunset skipping rocks across the lake and enjoying the quiet.

The next morning, we rose for the sunrise again and walked to the lake. It was a mirror for the sky above, the mountains in the distance, and the trees all around the shore. We watched the light bathe the peaks mirrored in the even more peaceful lakes. The rock skipping was exceptional when we decided to stop shooting. Now for the Art of Rock Skipping with Greg. Greg recommends for successful rock skipping: Choose rocks that fit well in the hand. Plant your weak forward foot and make sure to use a level follow-through. You can control the type of skip by the angle you hit the water. Throw slightly down for high jumps, and throw smooth and level for many long skips. Above all enjoy yourself and spend some time. That’s what this is all about.

After our rock skipping, we moved to the Many Glacier section of the park. On the way, we saw a black bear cub on the side of the road. He was simply sitting there, swinging his head from side to side. I’ve never said this of a bear before, but this little one definitely looked huggable, but you must always remember that all bears are wild animals and that the little cub you see is not near as dangerous as that the mother bear you don’t see. We continued on and saw an absolutely huge black bear walking along a lakeshore. He was so big that many people mistook him for a grizzly bear. The Many Glacier Valley is much like Two Medicine, but has many more hiking trails. We decided to pick a trail and start walking. The Swiftcurrent Trail follows a chain of lakes up a glacial valley to the cirque at the end and then continues over a mountain pass. It was an excellent walk. We saw loons on the first lake and a waterfall at its head. The turquoise water flows over blood red rock in a torrent. Above the falls is yet another lake nestled in between two lines of sharp peaks. Further up the valley, the final lake lies right in the glacial cirque, a natural amphitheatre carved by the glacier. Greg and I decide that this is a truly special place. The mountains encircle the calm water, and the pine smell is twice as strong here as anywhere else we’ve found. The rock hangs and soars thousands of feet above us. We spend the time we can and return the way we came – over a rather sketchy and damaged swinging bridge, several snowy sections, a couple of creeks, and four miles of trail. It was eight miles well spent.

48.796235,-113.697853

Needless to say, we’ve had a full and very exciting day.

Sunrise

2008-06-15T08:42:00.000-07:00

For the past two days, we’ve been photographing. To many people, this sounds like driving around and taking pictures of the mountains, but it’s really a lot of work, so I’ll take you through a day in the life of a photographer in the Tetons.

The day starts in the afternoon. You must first decide where to spend tomorrow morning. This decision is extremely important because you have to scout your location for sunrise. If you fail for whatever reason to scout, you’ll end up spending precious minutes searching for the perfect place to put the tripod or you’ll miss your turn or estimate the drive time wrong and end up being late. All of these are debilitating misfortunes, so you make your choice and scout the location right down to the perfect place to stand preferably to the nearest foot. In the case of one famous spot in the Tetons, you must set up within three feet of a certain spot or the shot simply doesn’t work. That said, you find out exactly where you’re going to place the tripod and shoot and maybe even mark it so that you can find it again. After this, you can look for wildlife. Maybe you find some agreeable animals. Maybe you don’t. If you do find animals willing not to run away or simply lose interest and walk away, you have about a 5% chance of getting a decent shot. You continue with wildlife until the light fades and go to a late dinner. All the while you are mentally preparing for getting up at 4:30 the next morning. You catch all the precious minutes of sleep you can. You jump out of bed at 4:30, throw your clothes on, and pray that you don’t fall asleep while driving. You drive to the predetermined location and set up the gear and wait. In a few minutes, the sun starts to rise and light your subject, so you’re busy for the next hour or half hour. When the light is gone, you drive back, eat breakfast (it’s only 7 am), and take a shower. After the shower you probably sleep until lunch and spend the early afternoon thinking about tomorrow until the next day begins. Well, that’s a day in the life of a photographer.

The past two days we’ve spent in this fashion, but I’ve quite intentionally left out the best part – the sunrise! Those 30 to 45 minutes make up for the rest of the day, the horrible hours, and all the times wind or cloud kills your shot. First the sky becomes bright. All but the brightest stars go to sleep. The eastern sky glows a bright yellow fading through orange into a pale blue up to the deep, dark sky. In the west a pink glow fades down into blue again. Everything is visible as it is in daylight, but there are no shadows. It’s as if everything glows with a light of its own. Everything is quiet, and even the wind hesitates to blow. The whole world seems to hold its breath. The mountains have the faintest extra glow to their edges. This glow isn’t really a color. It simply seems luminescent. There is no light striking them, yet they begin to have silvery-golden edges. Then the very first rays of light caress the summit of only the tallest mountain. The light is pink and soft. It’s almost as if the dawn wants to wake the sleeping giant as gently as possible. Then, the light paints further and further down. Gradually becoming brighter, sharper, and the slightest bit more orange. This is magic time. All the rocks and every snow field jumps out and salutes in flaming color the rising sun. This only lasts five to ten minutes at most. The light turns golden and becomes harsher. After gold, it turns white and harsh and seems to burn the eyes compared to the soft and glowing colors. Sunrise is over and it’s now day.

Yesterday morning we shot at the most famous spot in America, Shwabacher’s Landing. If you’re a photographer, you’ve heard of it and probably have shot there. It’s simply a beaver pond situated at the perfect angle to reflect Grand Teton and the surrounding peaks at sunrise. Every morning photographers line the shore to see the show. Our morning had not a cloud in the sky, and the wind quit for a moment at just the right time. It was wonderful.

This morning we went to Oxbow Bend. This is a place in the Snake River where it becomes very wide and still amid willows and aspens. Moose love the area, and the river sometimes reflects Mount Moran. Moran is a less-famous neighbor of the Grand, but it is an absolute monolith. It stands alone, huge and towering above the valley with a glacier flowing down in a fall down the center and its flat summit looking like broad shoulders, strong and immovable. This morning the aspens were yellow-green with their new spring leaves and the wind waited until after sunrise to blow. Fish jumped and fed throughout the river and birds sang. It was special thing for two such sunrises to happen in a row.

Today we’re leaving Jackson. We’re sad to go but excited about what’s ahead. As we often do, we’re leaving without knowing how far we’ll go or where we’ll spend the night. Something will come to us and we’ll figure it out though.

Blizzard!!!

2008-06-13T08:25:00.000-07:00

Well, I expected some snow in Jackson in June. Every time I've been here this time of year we've gotten at least a couple of inches, but it generally lasts a day, maybe two and melts. With the snow and rain, we decided that we should go up to Yellowstone since we couldn't see the mountains. We wanted to look for bears and wolves. Predators are more wary of humans than herbivores, and they are extremely difficult to photograph, but we wanted a challenge, so off we went.

The snow started shortly after we woke up and got continually stronger until we were on the road in white out conditions. Again, this wasn't surprising in the least. The snow wasn't sticking, and the temperature was a solid 35 degrees. This is perfectly normal June weather, so we continued. By the time we reached Yellowstone, there were old snow patches among the trees and the storm had gotten worse. We crossed the continental divide at about 8000', and it looked like winter. There were drifts of snow everywhere! It covered the grass, the trees, the rocks, and even some of the small ponds were frozen. The snow continued to fall. The whole world turned white. It eliminated color, depth, texture, light. Snow was the defining fact of existence. A uniform quiet descended with the myriad snowflakes and blanketed the landscape.

Hayden valley is usually a picture perfect world. The river winds slowly through the green valley full of grass and shrubs. Herds of bison graze lazily on the grass and cross the river as the mood takes them. Armadas of geese patrol the river slowly. Ducks dabble in the shallows, and the occasional eagle soars over it all, eyeing the scene and approving of its beauty. But this day was different. The river, the grass, the bison, the geese, the ducks, the eagle were all obscured by a blanket of white. We checked into our campsite and found that we could only drive part of the way in because of the snow drift that had flowed right into camp.

On a brighter note, we'd heard that there were indeed wolves in the area, so we went back down to the valley to see what we could see. In the afternoon, the blizzard loosened its grip, and we could see some distance, so we scanned the tree line for movement and kept our eyes sharp for wolves. About 6, I noticed two dots in the binoculars at over 1000 yards. The dots moved, so we decided to wait them out. Gradually it became clear that there was a black dot and a grey dot. After over an hour of waiting they came slightly closer and we could make out the profile of two wolves! The one was black as night, and the other the typical grey. They found a small rodent of some sort and pounced and jumped and played. Wolf mothers don't teach their children not to play with their food. After the snack, they continued on out of sight. It was a good sighting. Wolves are the most difficult animals to find in Yellowstone.

The next morning we awoke to a winter wonderland. Merry Christmas!... in June. Oh well. We'd had over six inches of fresh powder during the night, but we kept warm and remained resigned to winter weather.

That day, the plan was to find our wolves again. We traversed the valley back and forth looking for any sign of them. After a while, we decided to sit and wait. We picked a likely pullout and stopped to read our books and keep a lookout.

At one overlook, someone pulled out a spotting scope and found a bear on the far hill. After careful inspection, there appeared to be five bears. Two different mothers each with a cub and one big boar. (Male bears are boars, females are sows.) It was another good sighting, but they were very far away. There was no sign of our wolves except for two coyotes that were impersonating wolves for a little while. In the late afternoon, we decided that we were done with the snow and wanted to go back to Jackson. So we did. On the way, we found bison, elk, and pronghorn. We were driving along in the Grand Teton National Park, and Greg yelled, "Bear!" I pulled over, and a grizzly walked out of the trees 30 yards away! We watched him for no more than 30 seconds before he went back into the trees and wasn't seen again. Six bears in one day! Not bad, not bad at all. We were also able to approach a herd of elk with more than 20 calves. They were running and playing and having a great time. That sight marked the close of a very good day.

44.737,-110.4874

44.6211,-110.4289

Now the weather has cleared, and we are looking forward to some good conditions for photographing. We'll keep you updated as always.

-- Jason

Let it Snow!

2008-06-11T10:02:00.000-07:00

Since our last entry the weather has changed. It cleared up in the afternoon, and we could see our first full view of the mountains. We drove around the park looking for animals and found more bison, moose, elk, deer, and pronghorn. We also saw a golden eagle and a sandhill crane. All in all it was a nice afternoon, and we returned to eat Chinese food in town. On our way back to camp, the clouds were dimly lit in blue twilight, while the mountains were backlit by the glowing horizon to the west. It was a peaceful time before dusk and rather pleasant. The night promised to be cool, so we took appropriate measures and went to sleep.

43.7907,-110.711

When we woke up this morning, the wind was howling and it was cold. We popped our heads outside and saw snow! Several inches had accumulated on the sage and the truck! I was expecting a little precipitation, but the snow still managed to surprise us.

Our fingers froze as we packed up the tent, but we eventually managed and went into town for another Bubba's breakfast. (We really meant to post pictures, but when the food came, we forgot all about it and dug in. By the time we remembered all the food was gone.) After a hot breakfast, we went next door to Joe's Gourmet Coffee, my new favorite coffee shop. It has good coffee, good prices, free wifi, and comfy couches. If you're in Jackson, I highly recommend it.

The plan for today is to head north into Yellowstone and try to find bears and wolves, from the safety of our car of course.

Let it Rain

2008-06-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been another crazy couple of days. After our bad experience with lodging in Zion we tried to go into the park the following day. During the warmer months, the Park Service runs a propane powered bus into the park. This is the only way you are allowed in. Most of what I've read said that it was a great experience without crowds or traffic. For me, it was just the opposite. You walk up to the little entrance station with a big sign that says, "Welcome to Zion!" The man in the window asks you how many, you pay, and he gives you a little map with all the bus stops on it. Then, you walk through a crowd of tourists in bright colors with screaming little children to the busses. The busses are two part tram-like things which you can ride to one of six different stops in the park. As the bus started to move, an automated tour guide started giving a cheesy tour of the various features of the canyon. The whole effect was rather like Disney World. It was a National Park nightmare! Being in Disney World totally ruined the experience of this great wilderness and spectacular landscape. It made me angry. How dare they turn such a special place into a theme park! Granted, the traffic may have been bad before the bus system, but this is not a solution! By this point, we were so frustrated that we decided we needed to leave. Not just outside the park either. We were so fed up that we had to leave altogether.

We decided to hot foot it north. Way north. The desert had lost its charm. Trees, mountains, and rain beckoned us to come to their territory, so we answered the call. We're now in Jackson, WY. We arrived here yesterday and staked out a campsite on the Gros Ventre River in Grand Teton National Park and went to look for wildlife. Our first major sighting was three moose in the campground. They were browsing in the cottonwoods and minding their own business. After the moose, we found several herds of pronghorn grazing and running around on the flats. We were able to approach one group and get some good video. Past the pronghorn, bison with their calves lounged and ate, true to their character, and light rain fell from the high clouds which just obscured the tops of the Tetons. The mountains rise like a jagged set of teeth from the valley floor and seem to bite into the soft clouds with their snow-covered canines. Then we notice a coyote jogging through the green sage. He spots a lone pronghorn antelope and chases it. The antelope is too fast and agile at first, but the coyote makes a second attempt. This one is more unsuccessful than the first. The pronghorn turns on the coyote and chases it trying to stomp and kick. They eventually disengage and run about 100 yards apart. Several more rounds followed in the same manner, sometimes the coyote, sometimes the antelope gaining the upper hand. Then the coyote grabs hold of the neck of the pronghorn just where it attaches to the shoulder. The pronghorn shakes the coyote and runs off at full speed. The pronghorn antelope is the world's fastest land animal. It is capable of running at speeds of over 60 mph for close to an hour. The pronghorn escapes, but eventually continues the battle. After about 20 minutes of sporadic fighting, the pronghorn decides to rejoin the herd and quit. Everyone survived, so you can heave a sigh of relief. Greg has excellent action footage of this encounter. It really seems like something straight out of National Geographic.

We spent a cool, rainy night in the tent and woke up to go to breakfast at Bubba's. Many of you have probably heard me talk about Bubba's, but for those that haven't, they have the best breakfast you can find. It's a simple BBQ restaurant with stainless steel table tops. A biscuit is 6 in. in diameter and 3 in. thick. I can only eat one and a half. The pancakes are the size of a full dinner plate and an inch and a half thick. If you ever go, don't try to eat two. You will fail miserably. Though the biscuits and gravy and pancakes are excellent, the Mexican scramble takes the cake. It’s scrambled eggs with beans, cheese, sausage, a tortilla, and hot sauce. The flavor and portions are absolutely excellent.

That pretty much brings you up to date, so here some coordinates to have fun with.

37.881,-110.4084

38.2827,-111.2173

37.185074,-113.000736

43.621289,-110.644512

Oh, and if you've posted comments, I've probably responded with another comment, so check back if you asked questions or want to see a response. I promise I'll have pictures next time.

--Jason

(More) Dust in the Wind or How to discover where "the middle of nowhere" really is.

2008-06-08T08:52:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, but we're learning more and more about this part of the country every day. Cell service is shoddy at best, and internet is really difficult to find. I'm writing from the town of Hurricane, UT in the southwestern portion of the state. It's quite a long way from Moab over here, and it reminds us just how big the country is.

We left Moab to head south. On our way, we passed through the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park. Unfortunately, the scenery here paled in comparison to the desert wilderness of the White Rim. Everything seemed to be on a smaller scale when compared to the epic proportions of the canyons of the Colorado and the Green, but we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.

Right outside the park is a place called Newspaper Rock. It's a rather interesting Native American archaeological site. There are so many petroglyphs on this rock that to some observers, it seems like a newspaper. To tell the truth, archaeologists are neither so insightful nor so adventurous as Indiana Jones, so the following is the stated explanation of the petroglyphs, and I quote: "There are no known methods of dating rock art. In interpreting the rock figures, scholars are undecided as to their meaning or have yet to decipher them... Unfortunately, we do not know whether the figures represent storytelling, doodling, hunting magic, clan symbols, ancient graffiti, or something else. Without a true understanding of the petroglyphs, much is left for individual admiration and interpretation." In other words, "We don't know what we're talking about so feel free to have fun on your own." And so I will. Please notice the photos below. Look for bulls, deer, flying squirrels, bear prints, hunters on horseback, an indescribable monster in the lower left corner, a rather scary looking cowboy complete with sword and lassos protruding from his head like snakes from Medusa, and my personal favorite, a yeti. Needless to say, Newspaper Rock was the highlight of our day.

From there we continued south through the last chance gas station of Blanding, UT on to Natural Bridges National Monument. The Monument protects a small area of canyons containing three natural bridges. (Geological Note: A natural bridge is formed when the eroding force of a stream or river breaks through a rock wall which forms the canyon wall for an oxbow bend. The wall then becomes rock bridge through which the stream now flows, abandoning its accustomed course for the newly formed path of least resistance, which, in turn, enlarges the bridge. Note that a natural bridge is geologically different from a natural arch, which is eroded by dust in the wind rather than water. In short, a natural bridge is formed by water; whereas an arch is formed by wind. [Of which I apparently have plenty this morning.]) As I was saying, the monument has three quite large natural bridges and an important archaelogical site, but its most important claim to fame is the darkest night sky in the United States according to the International Dark Sky Association. It recieves virtually no light pollution and has extremely low moisture content in the air, so we took the last spot in the campground, cooked an excellent Mexican dinner, and waited for the sun to go down. After dark, we hiked to one of the bridges and set up a star trail shot that is indisputably our best yet, thanks to Greg's growing genius in star trails.

The following morning we moved on to go toward Capitol Reef National Park to the west. There are quite literally two buildings in the 130 miles between Blanding and Hanksville, UT. One is the ranger station for Natural Bridges. The other is a misplaced hotel which serves the mapmakers as the "town" of Fry Canyon. We passed over Lake Powell and through Glen Canyon, another canyon cut by the Colorado and continued without seeing so much as another vehicle for almost a hundred miles. Capitol Reef is a long line of cliffs separating the badlands to the east from the arid highlands to the west. It was mostly unremarkable, but we did stop for accustomed picnic lunch of ham and salami sandwiches with fruit and a cookie. We never knew until we spent time in the desert how truly tasty and satisfying the traditional lunch of a schoolboy really is.

Seeing that Capitol Reef was unspectacular without being able to explore the narrow canyons because of the threatening rain,(Any rain in these canyons can cause flash flooding and likely death.) we decided to move on to Zion National Park hopefully by way of a good bookstore. (Yet another side note. We've been getting a tremendous amount of reading done, and this has caused an especial crisis for Greg. He's simply run out of books that he wants to read. Since Moab we have yet to see the first bookstore or even public library for that matter. I, for one, thought that every county seat in America, at the very least had a public library, even if it wouldn't do us any good. Alas, I was wrong! I am at a complete loss as to how those who were inclined to read in this part of the country found books before the internet! Best leave my worries for rural Utah aside. Greg needed a book. It took about 300 miles to find a bookstore that sells novels, so he bought several and we continued on.)

When we arrived at the entrance to Zion, we discovered a problem. There are lots of people. Lots and lots of people. Entire busloads and crowds and droves and throngs of people. I literally was laughed at for asking for a place to pitch a tent for the night, and this man told be about some public land five miles away to camp on. He gave the mile marker it would be at and sent me off. We then encountered a problem. There was no public land along the road, and the mile marker didn't even exist! Having been sent on a wild goose chase we decided to punt and continue along this road until we could find a place to stay, and so that is how we came to Hurricane. I hope the next post will end on a happier note than "No room in the inn, or the stable either. Thank you very much."

The Stars

2008-06-06T09:19:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm sorry. I don't have any pictures for today, but that's because the interesting things happened at night. We returned to Moab from Glenwood Springs and decided to take a sunset shot at Green River Overlook. This spot looks down on the area we were driving in a couple of days ago. It's an absolutely HUGE view and made a really beautiful sunset shot. Unfortunately, the pictures are all on the big cameras, so we can't post them to the blog. After sunset we joined a park ranger for a stargazing program. He was very knowledgable and helped to pick out some major constellations along with night direction finding. After he left, we took a star trail shot. This kind of photography is a little different than conventional daytime shooting. You have to set for a 20 minute to 3 hour exposure. This means a lot of time wait and looking up. At the end of the exposure, hopefully you have a photo that shows the stars moving in the sky. They look like bright streaks, and it's a really neat effect. Greg got an especially good one where you can actually see both the canyon below and the stars above. Star trails are his new favorite form of photography, so that will probably translate into a lot of time staring up into the night sky.

OK, now it's time to change gears. I have several neat things you can do to keep up with us. The first is commenting on this blog. At the end of each post there's a little link that says comments. If you click on it, you can write a comment on the post or just let us know that you're reading if you like.

The second cool thing is my favorite. I will post a few sets of geographic coordinates. If you go to google and click on maps, you can copy these coordinates into the search field and see exactly where we've been. The cool part is if you click on "sattelite" to get sattelite imagery of the location. There's a lot of fun you can have looking at the world from space right on your computer. So here's the first few sets of coordinates.

38.5833,-109.8164

38.4763,-109.923

38.3743,-109.9654

38.257,-109.8655

38.3877,-109.8014

OK, let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I'll try to make the directions clearer. Have fun!

The White Rim (or How to really understand what the word "DESERT" means)

2008-06-04T15:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I promised an update after our backcountry adventure and here it is. We started down the White Rim Road Sunday morning bright and early recently resupplied with 10 extra gallons of gas tied to the roof and no less than 15 gallons of water. The beginning of the road is 35 or so miles from the nearest services of any kind, and from there it's over 100 miles off pavement back to Moab, so this kind of advance preparation is absolutely necessary. You must have all water, food, gas, and shade you will need for four days, and we had it all. The road drops from the Island in the Sky into Shafer canyon via a steep series of scenic switchbacks down to the the next rim. This area is made of a harder rock than the surrounding red sandstone, so it remained relatively intact as the Colorado cut its way into the canyon. This phenomenon creates a second canyon rim of white rock, hence the White Rim. We paralleled the river to the south, but the canyon is so deep and wide that we could only see it at select points. The country is very scenic with huge buttes of red, orange, and black rock, and below pinnacles of various shapes and sizes surround the river. We reached our first campsite a little after noon and pitched the tent. About the time we were finished, we realized that it was getting hot. We set our chairs out in the shade and relaxed, but soon the wind started to howl. It was sustained at least 30 mph with much higher gusts. You might think that wind would help in 100+ degree heat, but this was a hot desert wind. It basically blows dust and sand in your eyes and cakes it all over your body. The next thing we knew the ladder to the tent was moving. We were mildly surprised and decided to anchor it with a rock. A little later, the wind moved both the ladder and the rock! We caught it and added another rock. We figured that 35 lbs. would anchor it just fine. In the meantime, we decided to make a sandwich. In the process of making it, the soft, moist bread became hard and stale like toast. After lunch we learned that we could deal with the heat and the wind if we stayed in the shade and used the truck as a wind block, but just about the time we started to feel the worst was over we hear a crash. We looked up, and the wind had blown the tent completely back on itself in spite of our anchors. At this point all we could do is laugh and right the tent. After sundown the wind finally quit, so we watched the stars for a while. Scorpius rose bright in the south. We figured out how the big dipper actually is a bear, and Sagitarius was riding across the horizon as we turned in. Our second day was the longest driving day. We changed our philosophy a little and started driving at 10 am rather than the early starts we'd been striving for. We reasoned that we should be outside while it's cool and calm and drive during the middle of the day. The scenery only got better on day two with formations so fantastic that they didn't seem real. The southernmost point on the road was a real highlight. The canyons of the Colorado and Green Rivers converge here, and the point offers 360 degree views of the canyon. It's a truly majestic sight to be absolutely surrounded by these canyons. That night we camped near the White Rim with a view of the Green River. The sunset was spectacular at the edge of the canyon. We watched the river slip along through the canyon as cliff swallows wheeled and performed acrobatics in the wind. The sun descended below the opposite rim and left a rainbow of colors on the few clouds in the western sky. Then we woke up early for sunrise and watched the warm morning light bathe the cliffs in pink and orange. The air was calm and it was so quiet you could hear the swallows fly by. We started driving late again and explored a slot canyon on the way to our final campsite. Occasional rains had carved an extremely narrow canyon into the White Rim to reach to the river. Patterns in the rock revealed where the water swirls, and the inside feels like a smooth slide. We followed the Green River often right at its side to our turnoff into Taylor Canyon. Five miles up this canyon we camped looking up to rock pinnacles called Moses and Zeus. We arrived at camp around midday again, and there was no shade to be found, so we hid from the sun under a rock for about an hour until we could strategically position the truck to give us sufficient shade. It was another hot afternoon, but that night it began to get cloudy and windy. We looked back down the canyon and saw rain falling from the dark clouds like fingers of mist reaching down, but the rain never hit the ground. The air sucked the moisture, and the raindrops evaporated before they ever reached the earth. It was really a dissappointment. The next morning we broke camp to return to Moab, looking forward to a shower and anywhere they serve icewater. The drive back was uneventful other than a warning light on our dash. We called our friends at Land Rover and they told us to go to the nearest dealer, so we spent the afternoon taking the truck to Glenwood Springs, where we are now waiting for news on what caused the problem. It's been a busy few days, but we've really enjoyed them.

Providence

2008-05-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

Providence is the only word I think can describe today's occurance. We've had a hard time finding space because Moab and Arches National Park are so crowded right now, so we decided on a new spot, which we found out was also full. We were fairly depressed and descided to punt and take the easy road to Canyonlands National Park to see a sunset and hopefully find a campground no one else wanted. We walked into the visitor's center for the park and discovered that there were permits available for campsites on the White Rim Road. This is probably the premier backcountry four-wheel drive trip in the area and one of the best in the world. Circumstances seemed to be orchestrated so that we would land in exactly the right place at the right time.

So plans changed and we've made some last minute preparations in town. Tonight we move to our forward staging area, and tomorrow morning we descend into the canyon of the Colorado River to traverse the lower rim right through the middle of the canyon to the confluence with the Green River where we will turn north and upstream. The road traverses the last area in the United States to be mapped. It was simply a blank spot until the 1870's when John Wesley Powell ran the Colorado for the first time. So that's our trip. We will be out of contact until the fourth, but then we should have some great pictures and stories to share.

--Jason

Just as a reminder, I do read over all these and put my two cents in. Jason just has a way with words....

I'm Greg Lewis and I approve this message....(dunno why, just had to do it again)

Made it to Moab

2008-05-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been a little while, but we've been fairly busy. In New Mexico, we stopped to see El Malpais National Monument. The park is an old volcanic area with lots of lava flows, but the most unique features are the caves. When lava flows, sometimes it cools on the outside but forms an underground river. This leaves behind lava tubes -- our caves. We explored one and saw the entrances of several others. When we entered the cave, a blast of cold air shocked us. It was close to 90 degrees outside, but it must have been below 50 in the cave. Why the caves remain this cold year round is a mystery to me. We camped near Grants that night.

The next day we continued on our road to Moab passing throuh Gallup, NM and turning north to Shiprock. Here we entered the beginnings of red rock country, getting a taste of what's ahead. The other notable stop was Four Corners. For a mere $3 per person you can pay the Navajo to let you stand on the border of New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, and Utah. It's a bit of a tourist trap, but after you've done it, you can say that you've been in four places at once.

We drove hard to Moab and secured a campsite next to the Colorado River for the night. Campsites are very competitive here, but we did pretty well. Thanks for sticking with us. Theres much more to come.

Cattle, Camels, and Coyotes

2008-05-28T12:45:00.000-07:00

We're now on I-40 west of Albuquerque. The land has finally begun to look like the real West, but I'm jumping ahead of myself.

Yesterday we had lunch with more friends in Dallas and then headed out for Amarillo. It was certainly a late start, but it was a good drive. On our way, we saw something truly shocking. Greg suddenly yelled, "Camels!!!" I told him he was crazy, but sure enough there was a herd of camels next to the road minding their own business. I wonder if they know they're in Texas rather than the Sahara. I guess you never know what you'll see on the road. We also hit a milestone, our 1000th mile. That makes one of probably eleven. We'll see.

We made Amarillo at dinner time and went straight to the Big Texan. For those of you who haven't heard of it, the Big Texan is probably the world's most famous pit stop. Their claim to fame is the free 72 oz. steak, if you can eat it in an hour that is. A sign in the restaurant reads, "The Free 72 oz. Steak. Many have tried. Many have failed." The sign is true to its word. We saw one guy try his best and fail miserably on the pedestal in the middle of the dining room. They display you, the steak, and the time remaining for everyone to see and either encourage or heckle. The steak is even bigger than I imagined. It's the full size of a platter and an inch and a half thick. All in all it's a unique experience.

We encountered a bit of a problem in Amarillo. We couldn't find a campground that would accept tents. You'd think that a tent was a menace to society the way some people looked at us, so we settled for a motel.

We woke up to see fog out the window. Amarillo is on the high plains, but blowing mist and fog were certainly not what we expected. The fog lasted all the way to Albuquerque, where New Mexico finally starts to look like New Mexico. We caught our first glimpse of mountains and several bluffs. This feels like the beginning of the Southwest we all know and love.

It's time to get off the highway to go explore, so Hasta Luego!

In Dallas

2008-05-27T07:07:00.000-07:00

Sunday we made it to Dallas as planned. The driving went surprisingly well. Greg took over in Anniston, AL and continued until the Louisiana state line. He was an absolute machine. I took over from there to the outskirts of Dallas, and we started looking for a place to stay. The 800 miles seemed like a good day, not excessive, but significant. I think driving this distance at a stretch will really help our sense of scale.

Yesterday, we visited with old friends here in Dallas. My buddy here is studying to be an Eqyptologist and can already read hieroglyphics and hieratic, which is about the coolest thing imaginable, so we talked about dead languages and Greek gramatical structure (I feel I have to clarify, Jason wrote that), while eating Memorial Day barbeque (Now that was more my speed--Greg).

Today the plan is to have lunch with another set of friends and then hit the road again. I think the goal will be Amarillo, but we'll see how far we get. Dinner at the legendary Big Texan is certainly an incentive. I suppose we'll just have to keep moving and find out where the road leads us.

--Jason

My name is Greg Lewis and I approve this message.

On the Road

2008-05-25T07:01:00.000-07:00

We're now officially on the road and have begun our trip. Today the plan is to drive from Atlanta to Dallas. It's a good start for the first day, and it gets us West fast.

This week has been busy. We've been saying goodbye to family and frieds since about Tuesday, and Thursday Greg graduated from high school. Congratulatons! We packed the truck Friday and Saturday and discovered that we could fill it all the way up. After a steak dinner and a good night's sleep we said our final goodbyes and started driving at about 6:30.

There are many days and many updates to come, so I invite you come back often to see what the Lewis boys are up to.

--Jason

Getting Started

2007-07-07T04:06:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm starting a blog to log my travels. The purpose is to allow friends to keep up with me when I'm out of town or out of the country. Normally this would be unnecessary, but my brother and I are planning a trip for next summer -- the entire summer. The plan is to take a car and drive. There are currently two places on the agenda: 1. Southern Utah, probably the best place in North America to take your vehicle off the pavement. 2. The Arctic Ocean in Alaska. This will make for lots of driving, lots of scenery, and many opportunities to find incredible places.

This is where you come in. Greg and I have a map, an incredibly large map of the United States, pinned to the wall. The places we want to go are marked, and I want to give you the opportunity to give me suggestions, so suggest away. It can be anywhere. No place is too overlooked, unknown, or remote. Let us know where YOU want us to go!

--Jason