A Few Lessons Learned in Alaska

Before I get started on what I learned this summer, let me say that the point is NOT whether drilling in ANWR is a good idea or not. (If you can't already guess my opinion of that, you probably shouldn't be reading my website.) We need to stop stereotyping Alaska and its resources based on the woes of our own incomplete knowledge. I am not an expert. Three months in the state - and not too many days off to actually explore - have limited my experience. I can admit that. But I was given the opportunity to travel around the Alaskan interior, and I am overwhelmed by the little bit that I do know.

1) Cleanliness is NOT next to godliness, no matter what your momma told you.

Ever lived without running water? Ever had to use an outhouse on a regular basis? If you had to make a choice about lifestyles, would you choose those options? After this summer, I'm thinking I just might. Sharing a (basically) one-room cabin, hauling in water and hauling out whatever went down the sink the night before, my roommates and I had to work together as a team. There sure could have been tense moments, but even the differences and complaints were pushed aside when the work needed to be done. We had to plan and schedule trips to get water and to dump our trash. And for me and Amy, I think this might have contributed to our getting to be friends. Sure, we may have had plenty in common before the summer started, which we did, but the lifestyle up here at times requires people to rely upon and help each other. Much more so than I've ever experienced. The whole concept of living deliberately is so incredibly tempting now.

Simply put, you can live with a lot less than we normally think is necessary in the United States. And in fact, that simplification of life and its processes will actually make you happier and healthier. Give up your Ipod and go for a walk in the nearest forest. You'll thank me later.

2) The odds are good. But the goods are odd.

A humorous lesson. Jessie, Whitney and I said this all summer. It has become a mantra. Why? Men in Alaska can be incorrigible. Although they don't really outnumber women that much in Alaska (it really is NOT a 2:1 ratio), it seems that the water does something to them when they decide to stay. Whitney pointed out that we (women) start getting insulted when the men don't hit on us. It's just a way of life up here. You get used to it.

3) Fresh Alaskan blueberries go with anything.

We Americans often take for granted the world around us. Go to the local grocery store and find anything you want. Too many people these days do not actually know where their food comes from. Although I have certainly eaten alongside trails before (strawberries along the Colorado River, anyone?!), it hit me this summer just how abundantly this world can provide for our needs if we just let it work the way it was designed to work. One problem we face is the mentality that technology will make our lives easier and/or even save our lives. In reality , this world was designed to work as a system. A system that we generally don't understand and mess with regularly. But if we tune ourselves back to that system, and learn to accept the cycles in that system, we might find that we are healthier and have more resources than we know what to do with.

I'd walk the path between the Arctic Interagency Visitor Center and Jessie's cabin in Coldfoot and be knee-deep in blueberries and cranberries throughout August. There were more berries than any of us could ever hope to pick. And to think that those berries have far more vitamins than anything our modern agricultural systems choose to produce. You think we might learn something here? Why do we settle for second-rate?

It might very well be true that there isn't enough of those wild berries for everyone in America. And I certainly don't want everyone on the Outside to come up here and pick all of the berries. But the real concept is that we could do with a lot less. And we should learn to work for what we have. A handful of blueberries as you hike through the tundra is a great reward.

4) You really can't see Alaska from a tour bus, no matter what the glitzy advertisements say.

If there's one thing I can say I know about Alaska, I know its tourists. Or at least the types of tourists that come here. My job was to study that this summer. I now get to go home and write about them for five months. The waterways, bays and glaciers sliding to the ocean can indeed be viewed from the deck of a large cruise ship. But you still really won't KNOW southern Alaska. And to get to know interior Alaska, you need to give it some time and space. You need to be able to stop dead in your tracks, whereever you are, and just look around, while your feet stay planted in one spot. You can't really see what's going on in the wilderness. You have to give yourself a bit more time to tune your body and senses to understand.

If left up to your own devices, what could you discover about the great outdoors? What could you learn about yourself? Are you interested in finding out? Or are you content in ignorance, just living a passive life, being handed knowledge that other people decide you need. You know, curiosity didn't kill every cat, and sometimes, curiosity and imagination can lead to wonders greater that you ever knew existed.

But then again, our society is so used to judging people based solely on outward appearances. Why not judge a state like that? Ted Stevens, embarrassment that he is to the State of Alaska (my opinion), described the arctic tundra and the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge as a 'big nothing'. Clearly, it is not. How much time has he actually spent there? How much did he get paid to say that lie? To those whose only view is one from the other side of a TV screen, should we expect anything more?

Reality doesn't get enough credit. And sometimes, it just gets ignored.