Venice, California

March 7, 2016 ~ Crystle ~ 1 Comment

Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo Hello! It’s been a while since I last posted. I hope you all know how to find your way back to my poor, neglected blog.

I’ve been otherwise occupied by the baby boom in Fairbanks (so many newborn sessions!), and by my membership and leadership in various entrepreneur clubs in town. I’ve also rekindled my love-hate relationship with long distance running. We’re on good terms right now, but as I integrate more speed work, those sentiments might change. We’ll see if this summer I can push beyond the 10 mile wall I’ve never been able to push through.

Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo Our vacation to Oklahoma and California is long over, but not long forgotten. I will never in my life forget how Woods vomited all over Isaac during our connecting flight from Dallas to Los Angeles. Twice. We arrived to LAX, and headed over to Venice Beach with a half dressed baby (that’ll teach us to forget backup clothes), and an incredibly cranky toddler. I distinctly remember a very bored Margot slipping out of her seat belt and into the narrow airplane aisle, refusing to sit back down because she wanted to do Yoga instead. Why am I harping on the travel, and not the destination? Maybe because during our 10 day vacation, we spent approximately 24 total hours en route to our destinations. Living in Alaska has its downfalls; the distance from the lower 48 is #1 on the list of grievances. Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo

I will say one thing – revisiting these warm, vibrant Los Angeles travel photos brings me right back to my happy place. Sunshine on my face, the white noise of the crashing waves nearby, the smell of salt and Mediterranean food in the air, the perpetual hustle of street performers advising you that you have money and you should give it to them — Southern California; I can’t believe I let 10 years pass by without seeing you! Never again will I let that happen. California: I had completely forgotten how delicious your food is, how warm your days are, and how beautiful your people are. I love and miss you.

Muscle Beach - Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo Venice Beach. Margot’s first warm-weathered beach experience. The poor Alaskan kid tried to build a snowman with the sand. It was so darling to see my beautifully sheltered child experience an entirely different climate than she’s used to. She’s a beach person, it turns out. I can foresee the UCSB college applications in our future, already.

Then again, she really wants to be a cat. I don’t know of any University of California schools that offer that major. She might be out of luck. Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo

Confession: of all the times I’d been to Venice, California, I had never seen the canals! Shame on me. I’m not a proper Californian. We finally got around to it, and boooy were those some beautiful homes on the waterfront. The temptation to hop a fence, and assume the identity of one of these rich people was overwhelming.

Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo Our time in Venice was short — we headed to Bakersfield the same day we arrived from OKC. Day after day we ate our way into day food comas (Mexican, Basque and Chinese food galore!). I hardly recognized my hometown; I was surprised by the solar panel boom, wasn’t sure how to conserve water beyond my normal usage, and didn’t exactly remember how to get from downtown Bako to the NW side (it’s been ten years, people!). I somehow expected the city to slip into a post-apocalyptic downward spiral, but the gang violence, tribal warfare, and robotic armies hadn’t taken a hold of the city like I imagined they would. I’ve seen too many movies, I know that now.

It was good to visit family and friends, the warm weather, Trader Joe’s, and Williams Sonoma. I’ll be back in 9 years or less, I promise! Venice Beach, California | Yea Yea Pueblo

Aurora Borealis

October 12, 2015January 25, 2023 ~ Crystle ~ Leave a comment

I don’t think these Northern Lights will ever get old. I’ll always enjoy watching them, but I know as the temperatures drop here in Interior Alaska, the desire to sit outside for an hour shooting them will fade. Last week was the perfect climate for catching the Lights show.

Snow from a week ago had mostly melted off, leaving our grass once again exposed. Warmer nights (only dropping to the low 30s) meant down parkas and snow pants stayed in the closet, while we reached instead for vests, light hats, and fleece jackets and gloves. Any colder out, and my fingers would have turned to numb useless nubs, my camera battery would have drained, and my damp hair would have frozen. I don’t know how more disciplined aurora chasers tolerate the freezing temperatures closer to the winter solstice.

So here I present to you the Northern Lights, from October 6, 2015. Hopefully more to come, since this is our last season in Alaska, for now.

And in case you missed it, Isaac and I changed our residency to Alaska. We are coming back to settle down here after his military service ends (not for a few more duty stations, unfortunately). Sorry California and Oklahoma family, but something about this wild, Libertarian place has really appealed to our frontier sensibilities. It must be a mix of the bold folks who live here, the pristine tundra, and the bountiful wildlife and the lack of fashion rules that have really got us dreading the adjustment back to the lower 48 next year.

I’ll miss this one day.

Talkeetna, Alaska

September 24, 2015January 25, 2023 ~ Crystle ~ 3 Comments

I have a knack for finding alterna-towns. That’s what I call them, anyway. They’re crunchy, liberal, quirky, Olympia-styled towns, and they draw me in like a magnet.

This time, I made my way with my family in tow to Talkeetna, Alaska.

Why Talkeetna? Isaac asked me this when I approached him with an AirBnB listing for a Yurt, and a proposition to get away from Fairbanks for a few days. Spontaneity is never lost on him, and he went for it. Although I had to sell it as a hippy town, and as the launching pad for Denali Expeditions (I picked up that tidbit from all the Mountaineering memoirs I read this summer). The five hour drive would be worth it, I convinced him.

There’s more to the story, though. A friend suggested I watch Northern Exposure back when I first moved to Washington, since the show was filmed in nearby Roslyn (although based on a town in Alaska). I never got around to it, but two years into my Alaska residency (and nearly four years later), I finally did. I had to rent the DVDs from the local Blockbuster since the show is not in syndication, and it was not streaming online anywhere. It took nearly two months of evening binge watching, and treadmill TV sessions to power through the six seasons, but I did it. And the extra leg work was totally worth it.

The quirky protagonists, odd town issues, and uniquely Alaskan story lines held my attention. I could relate to Joel Fleishman’s poor assimilation, yet I still pulled for him. I loved Ed’s sweet disposition, and Shelley’s bitchin’ style. And of course we all admired Maggie’s tenacity.

For non-Northern Exposure fans, the show’s small town of Cicely is loosely based on the town of Talkeetna.

Walking around downtown, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots between the show and the town. I easily imagined Ruth Ann working the counter at the historic Nagley’s, or Holling and Shelley scandalizing the town with their relationship age-difference while running the Fairview Inn. A long-haired tourist with a leather jacket immediately drew assumptions from Isaac — that must be Ed!

While walking around downtown, we saw a stray-ish dog hobbling about on weak hips. His front legs pulled hard and fast, while his posterior extremities wobbled and collapsed like a baby deer. Out-of-towners sought to help the dog, find his owner and get the poor boy (or girl?) some help. Isaac overheard someone holler out of the Fairview Inn, yelling for the dog — Hipster! Fitting, especially for a town with a stub-tailed cat for a Mayor named Stubbs.

No, seriously. Talkeetna has a cat for a mayor. His name is Stubbs and he’s something like 19 years old. They call him stubbs because his tail is a nub. Anyway, I think someone is finally running against the incumbent. The more you know.

We showed up to the pet-friendly town at the end of the season.

Alaska is flush with tourists for the few warm months every year. After the influx dies down, most commerce boards up, literally, and takes off for the winter. The remaining shops and restaurants rarely disappoint. Talkeetna followed suit. We ate at the Roadhouse twice, and definitely benefitted from the Family Style seating. Advice from locals on where to go and what to do is always welcome.

I had a fine time gawking at the Denali Expedition paraphernalia. I was largely unable to imagine anything about the summit expeditions except how cold it must be at the top, and how glad I am to not have the drive to do something like that.

We were lucky to find the world’s greatest playground. Apparently, the townsfolk wanted a great place for the local kids to play, so they fundraised, and then everyone came together and built this insane playground, modeled after the town itself, in just five days. Another testament to the resolution of the people of Talkeetna. Seriously, the craftsmanship was amazing!

It was basically impossible to rip the kids away from this park, but we did it. And we had awesome food and delicious beer from Twister Creek Restaurant, home of the Denali Brewing Company. I recommend the Mother Ale, if you find happen to visit, or if you see it in your local beer cooler.

And the icing on the cake was our two night stay in a Yurt! I think it took just as long to convince my dad that staying in a dry yurt with an outhouse wasn’t endangering my family. He spent enough time roughing it out of necessity as a kid that he doesn’t see the recreational purpose of vacationing in a glamorized tent. He’s also a grandpa, so he wants to make sure his babies are spoiled rotten, all the time. Unfortunately, Alaska doesn’t have a cushy reputation, so stoking a wood burning stove all night to keep his babies warm is probably not his idea of an awesome family vacation.

Of course we loved it.