THE EARLY MORNING RONDEZVOUS, THE BEAUTY OF FAIRBANKS AND THE VALUE OF FAMILY AND FRIENDS

It’s difficult to live up to the high standards that are ingrained in some people from some cultures so I knew I was in trouble when I closed the door to my daughter and son-in-law’s house at 3:40 am last Saturday morning, giving me just five minutes to meet my German friend, Bernd, who had volunteered to meet me where I would store my car and to drive me to Sea Tac airport for my flight back to Barrow.

The sound of rain made me shiver as I finished packing and writing notes to my family. It had been a wonderful two weeks and I was dragging my feet, thinking about leaving them for another long stretch of months in Barrow. I was pleasantly surprised when I opened the door to find the temperature not cold at all and because the rain had already fallen, it was cascading down the sides of the street and into drains making a sound similar to that of rain falling. The effect was a pleasant one as I hastily finished packing the car and headed to the storage unit, although my emotions were confused about why I was leaving my daughter and her family and my son again for the snowy north.

I wasn't surprised when my friend became somewhat exasperated with me when he saw that one of the items that I was returning to Barrow with was a 54 pound clothes dryer in a large cardboard box. I was optimistic that it might fit in the trunk of his car, but we discovered that this wasn’t the case. Not to be daunted, he found a way to make it fit into his back seat, although from his exasperated comment, I understood that he didn’t think that I was one of the brightest bulbs on the shelf and that I didn’t have both ores in the water. Somehow this made me laugh inside and I excused myself by reminding him that I was only part German. I think he said something like, “that’s obvious” as we drove away.

I still laugh when I think about this very early morning exchange and know that only a very good friend would rise so early and drive a long distance to put me on my way back home. I’ve always admired the strong convictions, punctuality and commitment to excellence held by German people, including Bernd, so how could I be offended?  And as long as I’m forgiven for causing frustration and my dryer made it home, all is well from my side and I hope on his too. The dryer is now sitting on the top of my refrigerator where it has made its inaugural and subsequent successful drying sessions. No more stiff towels, an array of drying clothes throughout the apartment or ironing pajamas. I am one happy woman. Thank you, dear Bernd!  When you and Carleen visit, hopefully in the not too distant future, I’m hoping you can haul a standard size washing machine up with you.  Just kidding = )

On the way to Barrow, I had a long layover in Fairbanks, a city in the interior of Alaska where my parents raised my siblings and me.  We lived 2 ½ miles out off of the Steese Highway, in a subdivision called View Crest, past the Birch Hill Cemetery and before my favorite long dirt one lane road where I spent many dreamy afternoons riding my bike.  My parents and their good friend, Bayne, built the log home we lived in and my father hunted the bear that was looking down at us from a large wall in the living room.   My brothers and sister and I grew up with many opportunities for outdoor adventures, small and large.  At the beginning of summer, our TV mysteriously quit working every year, but I don’t think we missed it with acres and acres of woods to explore, trees to climb, tree forts to be built, frogs to be caught, pinecone and leaf salads to be made, low laying tree limbs to be ridden like horses, tire swings to be swung, small towns to be made with dirt-filled plastic molds of all sorts and match box cars to get around in on the tiny road systems. 

I remember waking up so many mornings and thinking that I could have been growing up anywhere, but that I was more than fortunate to be in Fairbanks.  In high school, my family moved to Anchorage where I was won over by the beauty of the mountains and the water.  Fairbanks is relatively flat with small hills and rivers, but no mountains and is filled with the most beautiful, white birch trees.  Their beauty is simple and still stunning, especially on a sunny winter day rising straight and tall above the white snow at their trunks.  Being in Fairbanks on Saturday reminded me of why I loved growing up there. 

A good friend from childhood, Ron, agreed to pick me up and gave me a wonderful tour of the much-changed Fairbanks.  We had lived in the same neighborhood as young children, attended the same schools and skied on the same cross country ski team until my family’s move to Anchorage.  It had been many years since seeing Ron and I was impressed with all that he’d done with his life and the many adventures he’d had as a young man and an adult.  He began his college years in the East and the Midwest and graduated with a degree in Geological Engineering from the University of Alaska in Fairbanks.  He shared that he spent time in the dark winter months in Barrow mapping the sea ice and feeling unsure of the probable close presence of polar bears.  Although I paid close attention as it was fascinating hearing about this and other work he’d done, I’m afraid my early morning robbed me of my ability to remember enough details to share.  I enjoyed hearing about his love of flying small planes, his gold claims in the Brooks Mountains (hope this wasn’t a secret = ), the roads he had designed and built and his knowledge of and involvement in many, many aspects of life in Fairbanks. 

We drove up and around to the back side of Birch Hill where there is now a world-class cross country ski area, named after our high school coach, Jim Whisenhunt.  I was incredulous at the enormity of the facility and trail system there.  The time went entirely too quickly.  Ron kindly took me to Fred Meyers for a large purchase of produce and highly advised spring mud boots before dropping me off at the airport for the final flight home to Barrow.  Thanks, Ron, for your generosity and a wonderful reintroduction to Fairbanks!

I enjoyed my first vacation immensely.  Being with family meant the world to me.  I’m forever grateful for their cheering me on in my work here.  What would I do without them?  I’ll hope to return for another two weeks sometime in October or November, but have many happy memories of delightful times with them all to keep me warm here, back in the frozen north. 

It was -20ᵒ F on Sunday as I walked to the clinic to get a head start on the week, catching up on emails and looking at the upcoming schedule.  The cold felt very refreshing and I was happy to be walking again.  As much as I love many things about living in Washington, I have come to know that I am happiest when I am within walking distance to all of my local destinations and where there are few distractions to observing the beauty of the landscape. 

The sun is rising early in the morning and not setting until late at night in the still indescribably blue sky.  The days are stretching out longer and longer here in beautiful Barrow.  I bought linens for company and mailed them up while in Washington, the laundry situation is solved and comfortable foam mattresses are on the way.  My apartment isn’t large, but it’s not small either and Alaska is all about camping, right?  Please know that my  door is always open!