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| Alaskan Taxi |
We are back from South East Alaska where my family and I stayed for a week. And no, we did not do a cruise. Funny how those two are an automatic pair, like it’s in the human DNA to think Alaska is to cruise as air is to breathing. We flew into Juneau for a day and half and then flew in a prop-plane to Glacier Bay for four days. (Sooo Northern Exposure. It felt rugged and real Alaska like.) I broke out my tomboy self for this trip, the one I hadn’t seen since I was ten. I thought I’d be hanging with boys, boys and boys and needed to puff up my chest a bit, show a little muscle. I had to be tough.
Our first stop was ice trekking a glacier. The tour group had a squad of people to help dress you in the proper gear. Teenagegirls are helping me with my boots gators, gloves and jackets. (Note: Teenagers work in Alaska.) I was gushing. WHAT! Usually I’m putting on everyone else’s socks, ski boots, and gloves before dressing myself. I felt like the new Princess Kate, imagining she gets the royal treatment every day. What a life? Do you ever get over the guilt? Feeling lazy? My tough-girl self sucked it up pretty good for that moment. I held my head high, better for letting someone strap you into a safety harness anyway.
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| Francie and Alex on Ice. |
While on the glacier, I was the minority, the only girl in the group. I tried to be cool, even on ice. We wore cramp-ons, metal spiked soles strapped on to your boots. (Made in Italy I noted. Just like Prada.) Each step, I felt I was sucked into the ice; it gripped good. It’s harder than it sounds so the guide is walking with us one by one as we try to get the knack of it. Every spike should touch the ice, or you could slip. The guide is reminding me of this and I try to get a picture in my head he can relate to, “Like Spiderman?” He bit, “Ah yeah. Like Spiderman.” My web-sucking spikes adhered to the ice like Spidey’s web.
At one point we are going down hill and my toes are smashing up inside the boot. “This sure is murder on the toenails isn’t it?” He clearly thought this was weird and tried not to let on. “Ahh. I guess I can go with that.” Crap! I let the girliness seep out of me. I kept thinking I was smart to postpone a pedicure for after the trip. Who cares to bare their toes in snow? And, I thought I was being funny. At least I didn’t go on and mention a ballerina in toe shoes. I stuck with Spiderman metaphors and got along just fine with the dudes.
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| Who needs a bottle? |
We drank water right out of the glacier pools, filling our Kirkland water bottle with the 300-year-old drink. It was tasty. I did try to pretend there were no black flecks of dirt floating in the “holy” water. I kept those hesitant thoughts to myself, lest I expose my squeamish side.
Then we are off to do more boy stuff in Glacier Bay with more boys. At least that was my expectation.
Hold on. Not so fast little Frances, Alaska is where the tough girls go. Girls LIVE here, lots of them. And they are smart and WANT to be here. I had to revamp my thinking. Prove myself to the girls, my can-do self told me. It’s just like home. Here we dress up for our girlfriends. We pine for the “cute skirt” or “you look great” commentary. Guys might notice something new but we don’t really want to admit it. “I’ve had this forever,” we tell them.
In Alaska, you do as in Rome, slit fish throats, sling kayaks around, and get muddy. Or in some cases, my case, compliment their prowess and join in if possible, just a wee bit. I tried to pretend its normal to see someone doing tough stuff while sidelined with a thermos of hot tea.
My first exposure to the tough girls of Alaska didn’t go over so well. We took a ferryboat to “cruise” inlets of Glacier Bay. We picked up some mystery campers off one of the islands, a cool system that works like a city bus. Two girlsboarded the boat, along with their kayak. It’s freezing out there and worse at night. What kind of tough-girl pills are these girls popping?
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| Me? |
Apparently they didn’t want bragging rights and were not up for talking about the experience. The most I got out of the frozen gals, their friendliness on ice, was fear of bears because they don’t know them. Kind of like strangers in my town I’m thinking. Apparently bears from the town of Sitka, where one of the icy campers resides, are scary because they aren’t scared of people and plow through trashcans at their leisure. It sounds like the bears are just like people. Both should be feared, unless you know them. Maybe they thought I was a bear.
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| Alaskan July 4th. |
The tough-girl park ranger on our boat sported a crisp uniform and Smokey-the-Bear hat with pride. She exuded enthusiasm for the outdoors and saving America’s parks. Underneath all her forest-y exterior, was a woman of refinement. It was July 4th. Ranger Emily stood on deck next to Old Glory, an America-the-beautiful glacier in the background. She played the Star Spangled Banner on her violin. I had chills, and not because of the weather. It was moving and memorable. Now that’s a stealthy kind of toughness. And just to make sure she planted the seeds for love of country if not the parks, she recited from memory, Shel Silverstein’s poem, “Where the Sidewalk Ends.” This was her closing argument, to appreciate your own backyard.
Our next adventure we met twenty-five-year-old Allison for our kayaking with the whale tour. My guys helped her unload the kayaks; she took the heavier end. I felt heavy enough lifting, moving about in my thick rain gear and decided to go the princess route, just observe. Let Allison be the tough girl all by herself; she was very good at it. I enjoyed talking to her instead.
She did crew in college and was hoping for a career in wilderness therapy. She’s off to an excellent start, taking on my family and me for this kayak tour. Kayaking with a teenager was an adventure for me, in or out of Alaska. I buddied up with my older son. It was friendly banter about steering the boat properly, I had control but somebody didn’t think so, correcting with his paddle my already correctly directed rudder. Allison stayed close, lest an intervention become necessary.
She talked about how she likes getting muddy but likes her moments to dress up for dinner. Those are her type of friends. Me too, a little more dressing up and less muddy however. I kept thinking she’s living her mantra through and through. Her hair was asymmetrical, half muddy-girl and half pretty-girl. She’s only twenty-five and knows more about herself and where she is going than I ever did back then. We enjoyed the day paddling in the bay, chatting about life and looking in awe at every whale fluke sinking into the sea. “I just never get tired of watching the whales,” says Allison. “I love my job.” I think I love her job too.
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| Kayaking Team |
I started thinking as I glided through the water, TJ paddling enough for both of us, I was in back so he didn’t notice. Maybe the “ice girls” were not so crazy after all. It was kind of nice just enjoying nature and talking about life with my new young friend. Alaska brings out the ruggedness and soulfulness in people. The toughness comes naturally, nothing to prove to anyone, girl or boy.
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