The Death Of A Bachelor Life

WARNING: This is a short story more than a blog & it needs another edit but what the hell!

Not that bachelor life is as glamorous as its portrayed in movies or in real life 25 years later, but it is a "man phase" that is often fondly remembered and always exaggerated with each passing year of its death. Young Jimmy’s bachelor life would come to a crashing sudden end and wind up in the land of love and happiness (that gets exaggerated over time too). This is his cautionary tale.

It was a dark and stormy night. It really was on August 28, 1988. Then it cleared up, both metaphorically and in real life. Jimmy was about to meet the Love Goddess for a first date. He lived about 75 miles away in Indiana, Valparaiso to be exact. To the Love Goddess’ family it was as if he was traveling from the continent of Indiana. Jimmy’s chariot was loaded with two bread baskets full of cassette tapes. He would eventually let her choose the music (a tested suave pickup move), however Jimmy already made sure no matter what tape she chose it wouldn’t suck. So off he went in his gray Mustang hatchback with a manual gear shift and a kick ass (that could have been the brand) cassette stereo. The car was actually clean too – times were slow for the young bachelor, he had to hedge all his bets.

 

Raining like crazy Jimmy crossed the famed Skyway Bridge his father built, paid the 75 cent toll to enter passage into the great state of Chicago, Mayor Daley owned everything, let’s just be honest from the start. As he crossed the downtown he arrived to the village municipality of Glenview; A quaint suburb of Chicago, the caldron of dangerous frolicking.

 

Jimmy got out of the car a bit disheveled. He was wearing his go to uniform of white button down shirt, khaki pants, weejuns with no socks and a vintage London Fog black trench coat. This uniform had been the same since Delta Tau Delta, Kappa Chapter 1980, no need to change. The Love Goddess’ father, Doc, a white haired, Phil Donahue doppelganger with a better tan answered the door and let Jimmy into the chocolate brown carpeted home. There was the whole family, Craig the brother with the pepper gray hair style even the Grateful Dead rejected in 1976 and his wife. Marta the sister who had two kids daughter Jenna and her husband Dave. Finally Jimmy was introduced to the Silver Fox, because her hair was platinum white. The hair made sense after meeting the other two kids. After the cursory introductions the Love Goddess, who was resplendent in a white sweater that highlighted her tan face and the world’s most brilliant and alluring smile as her jet black hair tumbled down her back, just touching the top of her Kelly green Capri pants escorted Jimmy out the door.

 

The plan was to go to the Improv Institute on California in the great state of Chicago, enjoy some good comedy and then whatever. They got into the gray mustang chariot and Jimmy, knowing she lived with her parents, politely asked if she had a curfew. “You’re Greek and my parents don’t usually have one. This one time at an Ahepa party …..” No curfew is all Jimmy heard and they were on their way.

 

To where is still questionable to this day. See Jimmy had made a fatal miscalculation, he thought the Love Goddess would know how to get around in Chicago. Horrible assumption. After they had stopped at White Hen for Bartle & James Wine coolers and Hanover pretzels (BYOB dinner for the show), neither child knew how to get to the Institute. In this time before a Garmin GPS and iPhones a paper fiber map was the only way to navigate. Jimmy certainly didn’t have one because the Greek male psyche combined with the innate ability to always be right meant Jimmy could forgo the map AND blame it on the woman politely.

 

Yes, they were lost, but not all was lost. Not only had they finished the Bartle & James and pretzels, but the most amazing thing happened. Love Goddess picked out the Producers cassette tape and a favorite of his. (She didn’t suck, she passed the music test, we are off to a good start he thought). They talked, and talked, and talked for 150 minutes until Jimmy got tired of driving. At the 120 minute lost in Chicago mark, Jimmy said that they would stop and start the date there, wherever ‘there’ was.

 

Fortune smiled upon them when ‘there’ were the corners of Lincoln, Armitage and Halstead streets. An area populated with a bazillion of drunk single 25 year olds. Stop one was an Irish Pub called the Everleigh Club. The sign was white with green lettering and a few shamrocks, but most important they had a bathroom. Contemplating having a drink, the establishment was overcrowded so they pressed on till they got to Club 950, a simple brick building with black lights inside. They ventured in for a draft beer, got tired of listening to Depeche Mode (which 25 years later they are still playing, please get a grip) and left.

 

Eastward down Lincoln avenue they walked until they stumbled upon Esoterics, THE ‘80s bar that had more shoulder pads than the Chicago Bears. The place was a fire hazard due to all the hairspray and moose used by the patrons, but the music was fun so they danced inside of a huge chain link cage with tons of multicolored neon mixed with cigarette smoke pirouetted on the brown brick walls.  However pirouetting smoke up there nostrils was too much and it was time to move on to the next haven.

 

Jukebox Saturday Night, the sign actually had a front half red impala convertible protruding from the brick wall above the door. They walked in to the strains of Elvis, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper and all the rest. They twisted to the bar got a beer and twisted some more. Of course no one ever identified if the twist was the peppermint twist or some other confectionary twist.  Time for the young couple to push forward where they walked in to Wisefools , a Chicago staple for blues and folk which was dead for some reason, so a beer and time to move on.

 

As they walked westward they stopped and wondered if the magical night should end. Deep down Jimmy was thinking “No frickin’ way! The night is but a fetus!” but outwardly he feigned slight concern that it was now 3am-ish, should the evening be terminated? Fortunately the Love Goddess said “No” and the evening continued to Kingston Mines, another great Chicago Blues Bar.

 

Kingston Mines is a long rectangular building bisected down the middle the long way. This is so two bands can play one right after the other. Lonnie Brooks was on the left and Joanna Conner was on the right. Since there was seating on the right they sat down even though the band had not started and they ordered a beer. As the beers came Jimmy decided to impress the Love Goddess with his ability to name the Humbuckler Pick-ups on the Les Paul hollow body guitar with the custom Marshall Tube amp in the background gave it that really cool sound. Jimmy thought she was impressed and noticed she was actually falling asleep. Time to go.

 

At this point they went to the car but stopped at Stone Toad Pizza for a piece of pie and a bathroom break. It was time for a trek back to den of the Love Goddess. First Jimmy needed coffee and it was a strange detour into the Chicago at the Rock and Roll McDonalds. From there they were watching the sunrise over the concrete and glass pasture on the Edens expressway. Jimmy expressed only one regret that he was so tired that he wasn’t going to walk the Love Goddess to the door, only because he was bushed.

 

As they pulled up to the casa on Joy Lane, Jimmy quickly realized that Joy may not be residing on this lane. For there was Doc with a Titlest 7 iron in the front yard. Phil Donahue looked pissed. As they pulled into the driveway Jimmy realized he had to get out to protect the Love Goddess. As Jimmy exited his car the Doc was yelling “Do you always keep young ladies out this late?” punctuating every word with a 7 Iron tomahawk chop Again, deep down Jimmy is thinking “No, I don’t keep ladies out this late, I’m usually bedding them by now but I think this one is special.” Silence was the better option.

 

By the time Jimmy gets to the Love Goddess’ door out comes the Silver Fox closely trailed Marta, the old sister yelling at the Silver Fox not to yell so they don’t wake her baby. Almost at the door Jimmy turns around to leave and the Silver Fox says that he should call his mother. “As if” he thought, the Silver Fox then said to Doc he needs to call the police.

 

This is puzzling thought our hero, he had already planned to crash at the coolest aunt on the planet’s place on Katalpa. Quickly things started to align. See, at the precise moment the two star crossed kids were deciding to “party on”, her parents decided to “panic on”.

 

At 3am they decided to notify the police that their daughter was missing. Doc took a publicity shot of the Love Goddess to the police to report a missing person. While no transcript exists today it went something like this:

 

Doc: “Officer, I would like to report a missing person.”

Cop: “How long has she been gone?”

Doc: “She left around 7 last night.”

Cop: “It has to be 24 hours to make it a ‘missing person’. You look really distraught though, maybe I can help. What’s his name?”

Doc: “Jim, I don’t know his last name.”

Cop: Where’s he from?”

Doc: “Indiana, I don’t know what city.”

Cop: “Well, this isn’t easy, what kind of car does he drive?”

Doc: “I don’t know.”

Cop: “Sir, I really want to help but you know nothing about this man, if you’re so concerned about her, why did you let her go out with him in the first place?”

Doc: “I thought it would be okay, he’s one of us, you know Greek, officer.”

Cop: chuckles “How old is your daughter?”

Doc: “25”

Cop: “Sir, she will be home don’t worry.”

Simultaneously the Silver Fox recalled that she knew the priest at Jimmy’s church. So she called Fr. Steve, who perplexed, freely gave out the Jimmy’s home number. The phone rang and the Engineer answered, laughed, handed the phone to Sugar Cookie. Jimmy was on date with a girl so maybe he’s not gay he thought. So Jimmy’s mom, Sugar Cookie and the Silver Fox began there bout on the phone.

It should be mentioned that God created Greek mothers to be honey badgers protecting their young. The Greek Mother’s child is perfect, sinless and would never do anything wrong. The ensuing conversation was just that. No subtlety to start: “My child would never anything like that, what did your child do to mine?” “My child knows Chicago and I’m from there” “So am I!”

 

At this point the dueling mothers realize they attended the same church, with the Silver Fox playing the Organ for the Sugar Cookie and Engineers wedding. They also attended Amundsen High School and a host of other things. They went from adversaries to comrades in minutes.

 

As the dust settled, Jimmy enjoyed three pots of coffee with the Greek family while Love Goddess fell asleep at the table.

 

On his way out of “not as much Joy” Lane he knew his bachelor days were done and he was really tired.

(Copyright 2013 Jim Bratsakis)

One Less Perk

Seamus The Rubber Duck and Lori the Barrista extraordinaire (Please forgive me Lori)

Painted Floor and the open door to Wonderland just beyond.

The Coffee Bar

The intersection of good vibes, activism, creativity and caffeine.

The Perk

 

I made 43 round trip flights on Southwest Airlines last year. All that travel helps you realize that sometimes the best place for travel is home. Every Saturday morning when I’m home, I can almost certainly be found at the Marquette Perk. An old gas station converted at first into a stained glass workshop with coffee service, then into a coffee house and stained glass work shop. The founders and owners, Al & Alice were hippies or at the very least bohemians, the original ones, not the new “new bohemians”. A colorful street mural of Alice in Wonderland (Wonderland Stained Glass…get it) adorned the southeast side of the building. The rest of the building was adorned in a funky primary yellow and blue coffee theme. The inside had the same mojo too where the theme was continued even on the floor. The ceiling on the coffee side was draped with faded fabric that had taken a beating from fluorescent lights and the sun. 

Al could be found at the Perk. He was about 5’8”, and had a beard or hadn’t shaved for a week stubble most of the time. He was a grumpy curmudgeon with a wry smile who loved to hold court. He was an IU grad who was a great COBOL programmer. He hated politicians, seemingly all politicians but stopped just short of being the nihilist our friend Dennis was (Nihilist was Dennis’ description). I enjoyed the many talks, discussions that we had. I loved it when he would bitch about those "greedy entrepneurs" only to realize somewhere in the rant he was an entrepreneur. At Al’s heart was an activist with strong convictions. Sometimes, okay more times than not, those convictions poured out bitterly. Too sweeten things was Alice. She had a wide smile, blond hair, slight build and a flower child-like look and disposition which all hid an fierce inner strength. She was a creative force whose stained glass adorned the shop. She would come up on Al and put her hand on his shoulder and Al would melt, a little. Two cool beans that made a strong couple. They are an inspirational couple to me, an example where both sides complement each other. The Perk has a handful of those couples and many other wonderful people. 

As much as Al would grouse about the “business” of the coffee shop he was smart enough to hire Lori. She is a long haired German blond barista with the biggest smile and a heart to match. It is impossible to go to the Perk when she is there and not walk out with a smile. Like a magnet, the unlikely trio has attracted many to the caffeinated confines of the Perk. What brews goes to the essence of Al & Alice, an activist coffee house that allows for diverse people to come together. At face value I wouldn’t fit in politically, but because there is a premium on laughter and listening, listening no matter how crazy, we find a respect and common ground (cool coffee pun huh?). All of us prize authenticity and that comes in many flavors.

Al & Alice essentially built the Purchase Street Malthouse, the place where Sam Adams brewed up the American Revolution. Skeptical? A few years ago the state of Indiana decided to change the tax code. The community met at the Perk, raised 6 figures by the end of the week, and in the end changed Indiana Tax Code to be more equitable and fair. Revolutionary I would say.

The Perk is still the place to go. The kids have taken over, expanded the menu and acupuncture replaced stained glass. The bright primary colors have given way to Zen inspired bronze, brown and a hint of lime green. The spirit stays the same (except for the canceled French Roast Tuesday…my other favorite day of the week). Lori fires up the best Metropolis coffee & everything bagel and I get to see all my friends. However, this week something changed.

Tuesday, Al passed away. I lost a friend and am sad. Thankful that I got to see him two weeks ago in his natural habitat, coffee at the Perk, bummed that I won’t have a coffee house buddy. He didn’t want a funeral or a wake or anything (typical Al). What’s even harder is that I’m a thousand miles away in North Dakota. So the only thing I can do is pay homage in my blog. As an Orthodox Christian we say “May there memory be eternal.” That won’t be hard for anyone touched by Al.

3 Travel Tips From Jimmydgreek

1. Managing Snowmegedon or Other Catastrophes
If you are faced with a natural disaster on the horizon, don't panic, follow this advice from a well seasoned traveler. First, make sure that you have a plane. If your plane is not in bad weather chances are you will have a plane to board. Your flight may be late, real late, but you will fly.

If you are going to reschedule, choose the earliest flight out. Airlines delay first, then cancel. They NEVER reschedule a flight. They reschedule your ticket. So the earliest flight always fly.

2. Know your locator numberS!
If you are flying a "partner" airline (American & Alaskan Air) you will be given two separate locator numbers. The locator number is your golden key, it is the only way the airlines know who you are. Despite common sense telling you that there computer systems are synched, this is the airlines, assume idiots and little communication. United and it's Continental merger is horrible. The United help desk couldn't even look me up in there system. If I would have had both numbers, I would have been golden.

3. Make nice with the help.
Yelling only irritates the gate and flight attendants. I have so mellowed out, I can still deliver the salvos when needed but Try not too. They are the lowest paid airline employees, self actualization is retributive smackdown to the loudmouth.

Charismatic Megafauna - Time To Go

-13 this pre-sunrise Fairbanks morning and the song Charismatic Megafauna by the Ratfish Wranglers (a strummy Alaskan punk folk band - think Bare Naked Ladies crossed with the Vampire Beach Babes) is blaring within my cranium. 10 days ago I came to Fairbanks following in the steps of Jack London and the adventure of the Yukon Territory, today I leave 10 days later. I have new friends Jess, Murray, Johnny, Susan, Larry. Jameson and a closer friendship with my pal Marty. The 7 of us tacked the Northern Lights for 6 days and ate great.

One of the highlights was on the road to the Chena Hot Springs Resort. We had found a trappers cache, a sort of free standing tree house on stilts. It had a wooden ladder, moose antlers and a moose jaw at it's enterance. We wanted to use it as prop for the foreground of our photography. The cache was located in frontof the Angel Creek Lodge/Saloon. A log cabin that was a big rectangle, on the left was the bar, the right was the liqour store part. It had 9 bottles of booze. The customary pool table was on the right hand side while a tubular wood burning stove with a convection fan on top, was in the mid-left foreground.  Seka the tan white lab roamed the premises with a laconic ambling that reflected true ownership in the building. We stopped for a drink and to plot our next few hours. Some of us bellied up to the bar and got a Makers Mark bourbon or wine. We were the only people there and as we talked, laughed and grew into our seats we started to feel really comfortable. The bar was laden with tchochki momentos - antlers here, a cheesehead there, my favorite bumper sticker on the trip so far: "Eat Moose, 12,000 wolves can't be wrong!" all made it this lodge charmingly tacky.

Our waitress Maria made the room warmer. She was of a certain age or slightly older. She wore jeans and a gray Harley Davidson T-Shirt. A petite figure,dirty blond pulled back she made sure everyone was happy. Steve, owner and bartender, not the same. A 6 foot curmudgeon Steve, with a truckers hat, begrudgingly got us our drinks.Our team gelled and felt very comfortable together, much more comfortable than our suburban. We left Angel Creek feeling we should go back. We went to Chena Hot Springs and waited for a teammate to bath in the rejuvenating waters of Chena. We went to check out dinner at Chena and almost immediately called Angel Creek, "will you stay open for dinner for 7?" Curmudgeon Steve answered, "Are guys the old group or the young group." I guess he didn't like the younger group. We went back for burgers and had a blast. We would soldier on into the hours of the night where morning starts, taking pictures, but I think Angel Creek is one of my highlights.

The green dreamsicle.

Wafting across the way

The lights dancing into view.

Makers Mark - artificial heat!

Me by Murray

Marty & Murray enjoy a drink while Seka decides to recline wherever she wants.

On the road home from Angel Creek.

More from the icy road back.

Angel Creek Cabins under the lights

  

My Arctic Gear

Some of you have asked what does one wear by the Arctic Circle? After a week, here are my suggestions, I don't have my thinsulated jeans or extreme long underwear pants here, but they are a must!

Bass Pro Extreme Condition Tshirt - Worn Over the Columbia Synthetic T-Shirts

Daily Wear - Columbia T & Northface Sweater. This Combo worked During the day with out the extreme undershirt.

My "Orvis Collection" All have a fleece component and did great in the evening...especially the thinsulate denim shirt.

Northface fleece jacket under, Orvis Field coat over (My fave jacket period), a balaclava, and a wolf fur trappers hat.

Baffin Polar boots by night, Awesome Keen shoes by day. In fact, if I wasn't in deep snow I would have stayed with the shoes for comfort. Smartwool socks, simply the best.

Snow Pants (REI)- I would have said optional till Friday night when I took one step too far and wound up in waist deep snow, wriggling to get out...I stayed dry!

7 Days - 7 Thoughts

Fairbanks, Alasaka Day 7

#1 - Fierce Weather trumps clear skies. Last night we stayed in. Ready to brave the -20, Jess recognized the safety issues when the wind was gusting at 30 miles an hour. We stayed in.

#2 - People are nice in Fairbanks. They are genuinely happy to see people. They are extremely laid back.

#3 - Alaska is still a territory. There is a wild hair frontier joi de vier  that is apparent. I have found this in New Mexico which has more sophistication but the same vibe.

#4 - I'm too comfortable in Hippie places. Went to the Golden Eagle Saloon where you can booze, play darts and cook your own burger. That is the food service. No one else wanted to cook there own burgers ...it would have been cool.

#5 - Miss my wife, but this is not her trip. It would be good for a long weekend. She would love the dogs, not the cold and remoteness.

#6 - I love my trappers fur hat. Frickin warm baby! Laugh at it all you want, I'm warmer than you :)

#7 - Krackeur's "Into the Wild" bus is nearby. I have no desire to see it. You don't flip off Mother Nature. Nothing romantic about it.

In a Saloon, hippie or not, one must have a shot of Alaska Whiskey!

-4 At the time of the pick

Esther, AK

#1 Hot Photography Tip Learned

#1 Lesson learned last night: The photo will be dark if the lens cap is still on the camera. Talk about feeling like a total dunce. At least I didn't ask Jess how to "fix it". Last night was learning night though. We found a wonderfully secluded area that had a few different angles to shoot from. We were surrounded by giant pines except for an area that jutted out to a cliff, a mini-butte I guess (I've learned nature lingo!). There was also a small road to our right that had no one on it once we settled. I'm still learning obviously, but Jess our leader is the man. He's two for two. I'm ready for tonight, hoping for no clouds and more activity!

From the original spot. Some of my teammates are in the foreground.

On the Butte. The lights are just getting ready. They appear mystically and build.

The road to Valhalla.

Starry, Starry Night.

PS: These are with no post production - they will be done in a month or two.

Chasing Rainbows @ Night

"Meet us downstairs at 9:30!" came the call from Jess our 6'3", gray bearded, 220 pound leader. His maroon baseball hat protecting his wide eyes with crows feet etched by decades in the American Wilderness. Jess is laid back, but all business when it comes to photography. He knows that the prime time to catch the Aurora Bourealis is between 10:30pm and 2am. Experience, not science, taught our leader that.

I should be excited but I hit peak REM sleep 15 minutes before the call. So whatever energy I do have is devoted to putting on my Bass Pro long underwear, Smartwool socks, Columbia orange undershirt, Northface Green & Gray stripe crew neck fleece shirt. Then the thinsulate lined jeans, REI waterproof pants, and black Baffin boots. I have two jackets but I'm sweating like a preacher in a whorehouse. So I grab my gear and only put on one jacket. The reliable favorite Orvis field coat is in hand, on reserve.

Our team piles into the Suburban and pile is being generous. Pour might be a better word. Of the six teammates, none are of athletic build and half, myself included, are above average...in weight. We start driving into the black Alaskan abyss. Jess has a garmin GPS. He is reading it extemporaneously glancing at the icy road, the sky and the Garmin. At least our seat belts are fastened...most of us.

After forty minutes of navigation we get a tour bus behind us. Evidently, I'm told, this is not a good omen. Too many people, too much light, too much everything. We get to a parking lot and there are two buses, a Winnebego, three Ford Taurus' and us. The parking lot would continue to fill like my wineglass with a Girard Cabernet 

We get out, grab our equipment, and look up: A zillion stars. The few times there is no light from the parade of vehicles and photographers, the sky is brilliant. I'm looking at the Big Dipper and Cassiopea constellations with my new friend Johnny. I have never seen so many stars, so bright. The earth's jet black ink well just had some splash from a nearby glass of milk.

I try to set up my camera and Jess shows me what I'm doing wrong. He does have the patience of Job.Anyway, abuzz now circulates around the parking lot. My teammate Murray, who in his arctic gear looks like a shorter, red Michelin Man, says "Do you see it?" I'm like "?". "That" replies Murray.

A thin greenish ribbon cuts a swath through the midnight abyss. Then I look at his camera display and it hits me. The sky is beautiful but with a camera I can find a rainbow in the dark. A brilliant green ribbon with a red header knifes through the evening. I have found the Northern Lights. Photography illuminates the breath of God. I have found the rainbow at night.

The parking lot. The bright light below is Fairbanks about 45 miles away.

The Northern Lights. I'm still mastering my camera AND I haven't edited anything yet. Please be patient.

Inglorius Bastards: The Alaskan Huskie

50 pounds of prancing athlete, the Alaskan Huskie is the main breed for sledding. On their hind legs they come up to my chin and they love to play. In fact, as Jameson the Dog Musher put it, "These dogs only want to please and run." I have never been around more playful creatures in my life. If they are not playing they are running, and the dogs run with effortless abandon. While they are all roughly the same size, their coats vary, just like there lineage. Chubby has a black top coat with a brown undercoat. Otello, the elder father from Norway is pepper gray and powerful. Winnie and Winfred are all black except for white front legs. Off course there are few ivory white and tan dogs too. When the Alaskan Huskies are around, there are no whips or evil menacing of any type, just love.

I keep hearing how people are disappointed that they are not seeing the Siberians or Malamutes, of which the Huskie obviously owes there lineage. It's like being pissed that I could see Stevie Ray Vaughn and not Jimmi Hendrix. One Asian tourist actually graded down a dog sledding service on Tripadvisor.com because the dogs were too small, not what she expected or wanted. Honey, you're brain is too small! These are athletes that want to have fun, and incidentally, kick a Siberian's ass when it comes to speed. The Alaskan Huskie is the perfect American mutt: Fast and Fun. They may not get the glory, but they are uniquely ours! I used to want a Siberian dog as a child...I'll take an Alaskan Huskie any day of the week.

The Huskie TEAM - Athletes coming into the turn!

I have spent two afternoons at the International Championships here at Dog Mushing HQ.

Gratuitous Siberian pick - My Huskies above had a better time...these guys were confused from the start.

Picture This.....Heather!

I am in Alaska on photo safari and my good friend Heather pointed out that I hadn't posted any pictures. Last I night I took over 200 so I would like to edit before I show anything but...because I love Heather...here are a few:

My Team! Chubby can't wait to get started...like me!

Leaving the warm tropics for the Arctic Circle. Where's the red line from the globe?

Denali on the horizon.

Todd getting the Cessna ready to go back to Fairbanks. Where's the runway?

Coming out of a steep turn leaving Coldfoot.

My girlfriend Winnie in Coldfoot.

Indian Gil playing Harp on sushi...um frozen fish?

Same girl, only closer playing harp.

The Aliens are coming!

"Chief, the Greeks did take your land! We merely opened restaurants so you could eat!"

Not sure the first argument worked.

Driving the dogs mad. I would say "Mush!" and they would reply "Lose Weight!"

Heading into the narrow trail ahead.

So some pictures round one. I'll keep this stuff short so Heather can understand :)

Ice Ice Baby

Last night I saw a giant Cossack, a man conducting a symphony on a fish, stared down a Comanche with an arrow at my face, an alien sliding to earth and a matador taking on a bull, and I'm just getting started! All made of a single block of ice. It was the Ice Carving World Championships in Fairbanks and for two hours I walked through a crystal menagerie of frozen art. Imagine those glass blown figurines from the county fair now 10' tall.

Fairbanks has special ice I was told (personally I lost the recipe a few years ago) and so that why the championships are here. The biggest challenge is the weather hitting the 30s or above. On the giant sculptures you could see the effects of heat as tree had broken down and the tip of a menacing sword was missing.

People from all over the world competed here. All the competitors, from China, Russia, Poland, Norway, New Zealand, Portland, donated there time and built an amusement park for kids complete with long slides and cups to twirl in. Where was this when I was a kid? It was Christmas time all over again!

Arctic Circling

Because 1 degree is not cold enough, today is crossing into the Arctic Circle day. Arctic Air is located in a small brown tin pole barn. I am scheduled to check in at 9am and arrive on time. As I swing the door open I am run over by a young women in her twenties with Ugg furry boots, tucked in Burberry plaid Capri pants, a black pea coat (fur trimmed of course) and a purple Bloomingdales knit hat. She walked through me while talking on her iPhone. This isn't Copenhagen at the Lufthansa terminal. You are in the frontier, the end of the world, they trap your fur not far away. Arctic Air Kathy is going through a pre-flight checklist. I get into the room and it is packed. It's about a 20 foot by 15 foot room with bad armless office chairs on the perimeter. Three thirty-something girls, 6 people of Asian descent that spanned a few generations, another couple who had a child at USC (Her maroon "Mom" sweatshirt said so), one older guy Henry and myself.

I realize that there is more than one outgoing trip. This is like the TV show Wings only smaller. Once the longer trips get there briefing, a twentyish Sarah, pony-tailed blond in a maroon warm-up jacket begins to tell us where & what my Arctic Circle adventure entails. We are going to Coldfoot and we will pass through the Arctic Circle on the way and shit. Burberry girl walks in with her entourage, a grandfatherly sort with a Canon point and shoot and a tall 60ish guy unshaven for a few days with stringy long black, Two Canon professional grade DSLRs plus a high end Lowepro camera bag. Great, lets stop the world and restart just for you. If you wouldn't have been prattling on your iPhone 5 (cute burberry case) we would be on time. Sarah finishes and tall guy regales anyone within earshot of the trips he's taken dogsledding. Arrgghhh - I think he invented dogs if I listen long enough.

It's time to get on our plane, a white twin engine Cessna with a thick ocean blue racing stripe down the sides. A total of 8 seats 4 to a side. Todd our pilot is a solid 5'8", 195, 45 year old blond, blue-eyed pilot originally from Minnesota, with a black Arctic Air golf hat on. He helps us onto the plane and assigns the seating. Burberry girl gets the copilot seat because she is the smallest. If you are looking for a comparison she weighs about the same as my thigh. The rest of her entourage request the back of the plane. However Tall Guy, who invented dogs, asks Todd to "...clean the windows on the outside." I laugh openly, at some point you're overtaken by stupidness and your body just reacts. Plus this was covered in the pre-flight briefing that you missed because you were outside watching Burberry girl on the iPhone. Next time please just wear a punch me sign. Todd handled it well and stuffed them in. I had the middle with open seats to my right and behind me a 300 degree view.

We take off and level at 4,500 ft. Finally I'm at peace. We are essentially cutting through passes along the foothills to the Brooks Mountain Range. First the White Mountains to the east, suddenly down below it's the Yukon River drawing a wide, twisting white stripe through the ground below. There is nothing to see but total unadulterated wilderness for miles. Todd narrates about a town or camp occasionally but the biggest population is like 57. Those aren't town...they are long gatherings. Also, the Dalton Highway below is also totally white, and the safest ground route. Then you look up and mountains from Kanuti National park to my left and now to my right is Arctic Circle National Park.That's when it hits me that these peaks that flank our Cessna are at roughly 7,000 feet and we climbed to 5,500 feet. Again this is where the breath of God breathed through and carved out the crevasses that we get to fly through. I'm on a small plane and suddenly feel somewhat smaller, and not in a bad way. We are leaving the "Tropics" and crossing into the "Arctic Circle". I look below to see if there is a big red dotted line like there is on the globe, but no, I take Tod's word for it.

We are coming to the end of Coldfoot flight and there are three ways to get to the runway. Which is cool if you can actually see a runway. All I see is an indentation in the snow and the Dalton Highway. Todd changes his approach and we are on our way in. I love flying and we swoop in like a bird delicately landing on the snow packed runway. We are herded from the plane into a large passenger van to tour Coldfoot. It's not much. We got to see the Alaskan Pipeline and the size of it is amazing. Here we are in the middle of nowhere and this pipe feeds the lower 48 fuel. The pipe itself is 4 feet in diameter and goes on for as long as the eye can see.

Coldfoot is essentially a truck stop for Ice Road Truckers (yes same as the reality show). The stop is a series of modular trailers. The diner is on the right and has a specific trucker table that says "Truckers only". You have to pass it on the way to the bathroom. Across the way is a larger modular set up that is the Silver Cafe Inn. It has 50 rooms and a kennel for dogs for sledding. The dogs each have a plywood home with there names like Tatonka, Butkis, Bauser and my pal Winnie on them. The dogs are incredibly playful. I was petting Winnie, a black Alaskan Huskie with white front feet when her brother Winfred - who looked the same sans one important item, jumped up on my back and wanted to wrestle too. That's when I realized that the dogs just want to have fun. With the exception of Tatonka, all the dogs communicated and had fun. They were great. Then it was time to come home.

The take off was breathtaking. Steep bank turns at low altitude. I was 10 again. Darting through the air on an ascent into the mountains with a breathtaking view was great. In 55 minutes it was over. We landed at East Ramp Airport & Sarah took me to the car rental place. I need more ground adventure but the trips was a blast, even with Tall Guy & his grandfatherly buddy.