Notes from the frozen Northwest

Let me take you back to the morning of our little science experiment. The morning we took the shots we posted. The morning after Peter’s little “wait here” remark.

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Man, it’s good to be alive. We’re sitting in Juneau airport with a few hours to kill before our connecting flight to Seattle.

Our journey back from Haines was aboard a Piper Cherokee Six, basically a 6 seater Mini Cooper with wings. We flew at 2000ft with a 50 knot tailwind, which took about 15 minutes off our journey and about 15 years off our lives.

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Wow, what a day we’ve had. It started with a spectacular flight from Juneau to Haines in a Piper Cherokee Six, and finished with an intimate, after gig music session with a couple of local musicians; a fiddle player, a box player and a singer. I can think of no better way to end the tour.

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Earlier we posted that we were hoping to take a charter flight up around Denali. Well, we did. Not only that, we landed. That’s right, we landed on it. We landed on the f***king glacier. There’s not a lot more to say. Just click through the gallery.

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We interrupt our coverage of the Alaskan tour to bring you some important breaking news from the afterlife.
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Not a whole lot to say about this one. We awoke to a clear sky this morning after an amazing gig at Latitude 62 in Talkeetna, and decided to go out and take some pictures of The Mountain.

Later today we’re hoping to charter a flight and go fly around the thing. There’s a slim chance we might even be able to land on a glacier, but it’s looking like it’s the wrong time of year for that. Ah well, we shall see.

Coming South into Cantwell the road bends to the right and you become the 3,489,647th person to say “Holy F**king Sh*t!” as Denali whomps you with its sheer visual weight.

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Mulvey here- that’s me on the porch of my friend Alice’s house in Fairbanks. Monday night it got down to 36 below, just the beginning of where cold takes on a persona… a faintly crazed, slightly drunk, and thoroughly menacing persona. We confirmed something I’d heard: boiling water tossed into the air makes a whirring sound as half of it vaporizes and half falls to Earth as ice. We tried to get pictures but it was night. So we repeated it in the morning- it was only 29 below, but the effect was almost as freakish. Damo caught it with the sun on it, and with the sun through it. Nice shootin’, Tex.

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So, we left Tonsina River Lodge around 10am yesterday and began the long drive up to Fairbanks. I think it’s safe to say that this was the most spectacular part of the route yet, as hopefully the pictures will illustrate. There isn’t really much to write actually, we just drove along the highway, listening to Peter’s iPod and making redundant and ineffectual remarks about the beauty of the landscape. Words are just too small and insignificant to capture the majesty of this place; at least mine are.

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