Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Wait. Yes there is. Nevermind.

You know that great Motown hit Ain't No Mountain High Enough? It's a lie, friends. A big, fat lie. Because there is a mountain high enough to keep me from gettin' to you, babe. It's in Alaska.

Aquaman is off on another great adventure as one of a three man crew aboard a commercial fishing vessel in Prince William Sound. The captain is awesome, the crew is fantastic and Aquaman is loving every minute of it. He's been there since June and The Wrecking Crew and I decided to take the opportunity to visit in July. So we headed back to Cordova where we lived right after we got married - we had our first jobs, bought our first home and had all of our babies in this tiny fishing village of 2300 people.

The Wrecking Crew and I arrived ready to pack in as much activity as we possibly could in three weeks. There were old friends to see, new friends to make, salmon to eat, berries to pick and trails to hike.

Although The Redhead was actually born here (the twins were born in Anchorage) and all three lived the first 3-4 years of their lives here, they didn't remember much. I felt like a tour guide of amnesiacs, trying to prompt memories and recollections by taking them to places that had been so much a part of their daily lives. It didn't work. It was like they were seeing it all for the first time. Which is kind of wonderful in its own way.

Because the weather in this coastal community can be so extreme (and by extreme I mean 160 inches of precipitation a year), you learn to get outside when the sun is shining. After two days of rain and wind, the sun came out. I felt compelled to make it count. I woke the boys up before noon (Imagine!) and got them fed. It was just The Redhead and Thing 2 because Thing 1 was out on the boat with Aquaman, learning what seining for pink salmon is all about.

That's Thing 1 smiling and Aquaman smiling even bigger
while they are photobombed by another crew member.

 

"We're climbing Mt. Eyak today!" I announced.

"Can we pick berries?" The Redhead asked. "Is it far?" Thing 2 chimed in.

"You'll see!" I answered. "You're gonna climb a mountain!"

I couldn't contain my excitement. I'd done this hike half a dozen times during the 8 years we lived there. It offered the best views of Orca Inlet and Prince William Sound as well as Eyak Lake and the Copper River Delta. I knew the boys would be impressed. Off we went.

My euphoria was short-lived. The Redhead quickly separated from us - choosing his own path - and then Thing 2 went a different route from mine. I had wrongly assumed they would just follow me. Getting separated is a no-no on Alaska trails. Groups make noise; noise warns off bears. A lone hiker doesn't make noise (unless consciously doing so) and can end up right on top of a very surprised bear. Surprised bear = bad. When our trails again converged at the top of the ski lift, I explained all of this and told them not to leave my sight again.

The beginning. Less than thrilled.
"Whaddya mean we can't leave your sight?" 

The base of the ski hill is 400 feet in elevation and the ski lift ends at 1200 feet with a vertical drop of 800 feet. This is all most people ever see. The single chair ski lift is the oldest operating chairlift in North America (which was no comfort to me when I was on it a handful of times). Mt. Eyak Ski Area is bustling with people when there's fresh powder in the winter and well trafficked in the summer because of its proximity to the center of town.

The trail beyond gets steadily narrower - hard to follow in some places - and the views get more and more spectacular.

Spectacular. But don't those little chairs look scary?

I'm not kidding when I say narrow.
That's the trail - hardly bigger than the width of my feet. 

The Redhead is named after the island pictured behind him. It was pretty cool for him to see this again as a teenager. He was 4 years old the last time we were here.

S'up. That's my island. 

Higher. 

And higher. 

Still higher. 

We had to stop and rest way more frequently than I remember having to rest before.

That water bottle is just about empty. 

Another rest? Really?

The view left them speechless at times. Thankfully.

And do you know what I noticed as we hiked higher and higher? The Redhead and Thing 2 were smiling bigger and bigger.

The rarely seen smile from a teenage boy.

A genuine smile!

At this point, we were out of water. We had one bottle each and it was gone by the time we were halfway there. But we kept on going.

Those little white specks are birds. We're higher than the birds!

When you reach the ridge, you can see over to the other side. That's Eyak Lake.

Awesome, ain't it?

And then you know you're close. The peak looks big and small at the same time. 

It's 2,480 feet. That's a mountain. I know it's not Mt. McKinley (North America's tallest mountain is 20,237 feet - also in Alaska), but it may as well have been for us. 

The peak of Mount Eyak. 

It gets very steep at the end. You can feel the weather when you're up that high. It gets windier. And colder. There were eagles flying around us. And right about that time The Redhead declared, "Yep. I'm good. I don't need to go any higher."

I was surprised. "What do you mean?"

"It's too cliff-y," he said.

He was right. It was much like the side of a cliff now that we were approaching the end. I tried to keep him excited.

"Come on! You've come too far to not go to the top! We'll just take one more rest and then finish. At the end, there are ropes bolted in that you use to climb to the peak! You can do it!"

While we rested one last time, we watched as a hiker came from below us at a brisk pace. Way brisker than ours. Then I realized I knew her. The boys couldn't believe it. "Really Mom? On top of a mountain? You even know someone on top of a mountain?"

My old friend sat and rested with us a while before continuing on to the peak. She was fast - leaving us far behind in minutes. At this point, I realized how foolish I'd been to just take off on a difficult hike that I hadn't done in over 10 years. I accepted how out of shape I was but I still wanted to reach the top. So I kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Until I got to the first rope.

Doesn't that bolt seem rusty?

Rather than be reassured that I had something to hold on to, I began focusing on the fact that it was so steep that I needed something to hold on to. I watched my friend reach the summit. Thing 2 was right behind her, hand over hand on the first and then the second rope. I didn't give myself time to think. I just kept going. The Redhead was right behind me.

That is a very worried look on his face.

And then I saw the second rope and the steep rocks beneath it.

Oh dear God what have I gotten myself into?

Some part of me began pleading with the other parts of me to TURN BACK. My friend was already on her way back down. Thing 2 was waiting at the top of the second rope. The Redhead suddenly announced, "I'm done. I'll wait for y'all right here." And I knew he meant it.

I looked around to my left and thought another route without the rope looked easier. This demonstrates how stressed I was - obviously not thinking clearly. After conferring with my friend, I went for it. As I picked my way gingerly along the lesser-used path, rocks slid beneath my feet and kept right on sliding into what seemed an abyss - where I pictured my body going next. And that's when my knees started shaking and my heart started pounding and I looked up at my friend - this friend from a decade before who was just as fit as she had ever been - and I said, "I think I'm done. I can't do it. Fuck."

And do you know what she said? "Well, then, you should stop. Because this is where most people fall."

HOLY SHIT.

And she's a nurse at the local hospital, so she would know.

And do you know what she said next? "Do you mind if I take Thing 2 to the top while you make your way back down?"

If I hadn't been busy hanging on to the side of a mountain, I would have hugged her. Instead I just said, "That would be great. Thanks."

At that moment, I wanted to cry and not turn around and figure out how I was going to get back down the lesser-used path with the rock slide and back down the first rope and coach The Redhead back down as well. But I couldn't fall apart because it was just me and Aquaman wasn't there to talk calmly to me and The Redhead was already scared and Thing 2 was well taken care of and going up to the summit like a billy goat. So I held it together and somehow we made it back down to the relative safety of the ridge. My dear friend returned with Thing 2 and then motored down the mountain just as quickly as she had come up.

The Redhead may never trust me again.

The hike down was no picnic. We were exhausted and it was steep. My knees and thighs protested each step. We had all rubbed blisters on our feet. We had no water. I knew that I had to make noise to ward off bears but I was in no mood for singing or talking. So I chanted. "Mud. Rocks. Steep. Bullshit." Over and over. Then I began to sing, "Somebody bring me a wheelchair or a Coast Guard helicopter rescue and a Diet Dr. Pepper!" Then I laughed maniacally.

These rocks are pokey. And it's steep. Bullshit.

We had to rest on the way down, too. 

Just to be clear: I never said I wanted to hike a mountain, Mom.

We might have been delirious at this point.

I was so irritated and angry and just wanted it to be over. I couldn't believe that I had panicked when I was so close to finishing. I had taken those very same steps many times before - even led other people up the path - but this time I had absolutely freaked out. No doubt about it. The hike up had taken us 4 hours. It took us another 2 hours to make it back down to the parking lot. During those 2 hours, I promised myself that I would never hike a mountain again.

Right after I took ibuprofen and crawled into bed that night, the friend that had so graciously taken Thing 2 to the top called and asked me if we'd seen the bear on the way down. She had come upon one that couldn't be bothered to stop eating berries, despite a human's presence. I guess my horrible chanting and singing had worked.

The next day, I slept until noon just like the boys. When Thing 2 showed me the pictures he had taken at the top, that's when I knew that it had been worth it. My failure had not lessened his experience - in fact, it made it even more special because he'd been the only one in our little party to reach the summit.

The obligatory selfie. Thing 2 and his Fearless Guide.

Looking towards Eyak Lake and the Copper River Delta.

On Top of the World!

And that is a pretty cool thing. But I'm still never climbing another mountain.  

The Marriage Playlist

Our first Maritime Ball. 1990.
We both had a lot of hair, didn't we? 

Aquaman is in Alaska. He's been gone 20 days. Regular readers of this blog will know that this is somewhat normal for us. (Seeing normal and us in the same sentence doesn't even look right.) Because Aquaman must be in contact with the ocean somewhat regularly and a job that allows that is basically essential, he is often out on a boat for extended periods while I remain on land to continue life. This is both tough and thrilling.

We met on a boat. A retired WWII ship, The USTS Texas Clipper was a teaching vessel for Texas A&M University at Galveston for many years. It has since been decommissioned and rests at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico as part of the Texas Parks & Wildlife Artificial Reef program. But in its heydey, it took summer cruises to foreign ports of call with young Prep Cadets aboard taking college classes. This was a pivotal experience for me in so many ways. For one, I realized after about two weeks in my Oceanography class that it was not for me and I would have to give up the idea of being any kind of marine scientist. I was confused and bewildered by the chemistry involved and knew it would only bring frustration. Secondly, I surprised myself by thriving in the regimented environment of the Merchant Marines that I had so dreaded leading up to the trip. I wore the khaki uniform and steel-toed boots, reported for cleaning stations and galley duty, passed inspection and fell in on deck for formation. I never even got seasick. Third, I met the man I would end up marrying. It was 1989, we were both 18 and college freshmen. We had been aboard for about a month before we even met, almost exactly 25 years ago today. It's safe to say that our lives changed forever.

Not too long ago, I posted about an NPR project wherein folks were asked to describe their lives chronologically in six songs. This was great fun, reaching back to my childhood and adolescence and thinking about the songs that had shaped my life. While the last two songs were wrapped up in meeting and marrying Aquaman, it only scratched the surface of the music that is so much a part of our life together. It felt unfinished, that playlist.

Now 2,901 miles separate us. He is out in Prince William Sound on a seine boat, hopefully catching lots of pink salmon and loving his life on the water. He'll come home in September. Before he left, I counted the approximate days that he would be gone. 70 days. It sounds like a long time, but I reasoned with myself that it was only 20 days longer than his longest trip aboard a shrimp boat in the Gulf of Mexico and we had managed to survive that, hadn't we?

The heart doesn't always listen to the brain. I woke up this morning missing him something terrible. I got a letter in the mail from him yesterday. It was a beautiful card of a painting by an Alaskan artist. Written inside were a few lyrics to a song - one of our songs. And that's what got me thinking about all of the songs that have been important to us at one time or another. The songs that we have listened to alone or together, the ones that made us happy or sad, the ones that still make me reach across the armrest for his hand when they come on the car radio. I have limited myself to 6. So here they are, in chronological order - a Marriage Playlist.


1) Somebody by Depeche Mode

Our relationship grew in the early 90s, just like Depeche Mode. This song was the first time that I remember Aquaman copying down the words to a song to give me later. We were still freshmen at A&M. The lyrics and piano are simple and raw, and this official Depeche Mode video features the soundcheck rehearsal version of the song.

2) Lovesong by The Cure

It is so very hard to narrow it down to one song by The Cure (I could include the entire Disintegration album here), but this one stands the test of time. The lyrics are just as true for us today as they were in 1989. I wish I could say the same for their official video, which now looks incredibly dated to me. They filmed it in a cave, for heaven's sake. But here it is - in all its cringeworthy glory. Just listen to the words, people.

3) Built to Last by Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers

Picking one Tom Petty song is almost impossible. We have been to see him multiple times in concert and every time has been an experience. I included "Wildflowers" in my life playlist, but Built to Last gets me every time because of the chorus, which is awesome, and because of this particular line: "She has followed me where the rain would fall in sheets." The rain fell in sheets in Alaska.

This version is live, and involves Tom Petty wearing a bandana headband. You're welcome.

4) Nick of Time by Bonnie Raitt

This is the song that I identified with most when I had baby fever. I would listen to it over and over again and finally played it for Aquaman to try and express what I was feeling. It's not that he didn't want to have a baby, it's just that I wanted one more. It took almost one year for me to get pregnant, and this song comforted me during those exasperating days. When I was only four months pregnant, we ended up in Seattle at Bumbershoot and guess who headlined? Bonnie Raitt. Listening to her sing live, with Aquaman's arms wrapped around me and my growing bump of a belly, is one of the best memories I have of pregnancy.

5) Cry by Slaid Cleaves

It's not all rainbows and unicorns, my friends. We have been through some serious shit and this song captures it. Aquaman gets credit for discovering this artist that we have seen live in the very tiny venue, Third Coast Music. Cry is from the album Everything You Love Will Be Taken Away. Boy, will it ever.

Album cover from the official Slaid Cleaves website. 

Even though this song symbolizes a very difficult time for us, I still love it. Marriage can be so damn difficult. And sometimes you have to lose it all before you can begin again.

Oh, and by the way...Stephen King wrote the liner notes on this album for Slaid. That's enough of an endorsement, don't you think? If you don't know Slaid Cleaves, it's time you did.
 

6) Better Together by Jack Johnson

Well, I can't get this one off my mind. I love Jack Johnson and love that he appeals to so many different people. He's a uniter! But these also happen to be the lyrics that Aquaman included in his last letter. So I'm a bit obsessed with it right now.

I love this part:

There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard
No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart
And our dreams, and they are made out of real things
Like a shoebox of photographs
With sepia-toned loving
Love is the answer
At least for most of the questions in my heart
Like why are we here and where do we go
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy
And sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing
It's always better when we're together

So that's it. The Marriage Playlist. It's cheesy and embarrassing but magical and wonderful. Like love.

Your turn. What are the 6 songs that describe your marriage?

Aquaman and his Aquanauts

We had a grand adventure this weekend. So grand, in fact, that it took me a few days after returning to be up for posting anything about it. I can now report that The Redhead, Thing 1, and Thing 2 are certified SCUBA divers. A milestone. Aquaman and I are so very proud.

Aquaman and his Aquanauts

When you're married to a marine biologist, SCUBA diving is required. Aquaman and I spent our honeymoon diving in Belize. The first vacation we ever took together was to go diving in Cozumel. 

A lot has changed since I was certified in 1992. I took SCUBA for a P.E. credit at Texas A&M. Aquaman was one of the Divemasters for the class. I might have been his favorite student. I haven't been diving in many years, so I was a little nervous about this trip. But the location, Balmorhea State Park, is perfect for a nervous diver. It is the world's largest spring-fed swimming pool and has amazingly clear water. San Solomon Springs is the source of this magic in the middle of the Texas desert.  

Because Aquaman took the lead on this certification business for the boys, they just assumed that I was clueless about the sport. And it's a fair assumption. I have certainly demonstrated my ineptitude concerning sailing. They remind me of this often, especially now that they are taking sailing classes (but that's another topic for another post). 

As the time for this trip approached, the boys had lots of questions - all of which they directed at Aquaman - considering me useless. 

"What will they make us do on our checkout dive?"

"Will we have to clear our masks?"

"Will we get to buddy breathe?"

I realized that of course these children o'mine had never seen me dive - how could I dive when someone had to be watching them???? My most recent dives (still several years ago when we lived on the Texas coast) involved getting babysitters for their much younger selves or farming them out on playdates so that I could get away for a few hours with Aquaman offshore. 

So it was with much surprise that the boys reacted when Aquaman casually mentioned that I had been "narked" while diving at depths over 120 feet in Belize's Blue Hole. Thing 1 and Thing 2 both asked, "What?" simultaneously. Incredulously. The Redhead looked at me and said, "Wait. You've been diving that deep?" 

So sweet. 

"Yep," I said proudly, puffing out my chest a little at my seat at the dining table. Finally...some respect!

"Wow. Y'all used to be cool."

Cue the deflate button.

Nothing like a comment from a teenager to keep you humble. 

Still, the boys were pretty impressed when I produced my dive card. Mostly because it's over 20 years old.

1992 was a very long time ago...

And I must provide more proof of my previously cool life.

That's called a "giant stride" entry, fellas.

Cozumel. 1993.

So glamorous. Belize. Honeymoon. 1996.

Aquaman makes it look easy. Belize. 1996.

Balmorhea (pronounced Bal-mor-ay) is no easy day trip from the metroplex - nor from anywhere, really. Even though we pulled the boys out of school early on Friday, we still didn't get on the road until 4:00 p.m. and didn't make it there until almost 1:00 a.m. You know what never got old? Listening to the navigation app periodically announce that we were however-many miles from Bal-mor-ee-ah (like diarrhea). Snorts and chuckles all around. Every. Time. 

We fell into bed and were shocked the next morning to look out the window and see the Davis Mountains. We were oblivious to their presence driving in the dark. 

The view from our room.

You can camp or stay in one of the really cool motel rooms, built by the Civilian Conservation Corps. I highly recommend staying in the rooms. Known as San Solomon Springs Courts, they are adobe-style and were built in the 1930s. Totally worth it.

Our suite.

Of course, our accommodations were still not adequate for The Wrecking Crew, who abhor sharing a bed. There were 3 queen-size beds in our suite. This was not enough. Thing 1 refused to share a bed with anyone and instead announced he would sleep on the floor. The concrete floor.

"You shared a womb for 9 months! You can't share a bed for two nights?" I screeched.

"I don't remember that! It doesn't count!" The boy was not giving in.

Aquaman took pity on him and helped him make a pallet in the closet. Seriously. That's where he slept.

Nincompoop accommodations.

But on to the diving. 

The main length of the pool.

The elusive Thing 1. Rarely photographed.

Parents thrilled to have made the drive without killing anyone.

Things went pretty smoothly. Other students in the class had to cancel at the last minute, so the boys ended up being the only ones on the checkout dive with three instructors. That's known as man-on-man defense in my book. A preferred strategy.

Getting the wetsuit on is your first challenge.

The zipper goes in the back, son.

I like to call this one "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Diver."

Aquaman and Thing 2.

Aquaman and Thing 1.

The one who shivers most is out first.

Aquanaut 1.

Aquanaut 2.

The original Aqualad.

As a parent, I am sometimes taken aback by how small our children still are. We so often fixate on how big they are getting - remarking that we can't believe they're teenagers or that they've already grown out of whatever clothes we bought them two months ago. But sometimes? I am struck by how small they still are. This picture of Thing 2 captures that. He is concentrating on his tank and regulator and properly detaching one from the other. But you know what I see? His little body. His little sunburned hands. How young he still is.

Little man.

Okay, okay. No crying!

Balmorhea is a special place. Aquaman and I were here once before in 1995 - recently engaged, still in graduate school. His major professor at Texas A&M and other grad students were involved in research with the two endangered species of fish that exist in the artesian springs: the Comanche Springs pupfish and the Pecos gambusia. We camped all around this area and I read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal Dreams while the rest of them did fishy things. This trip made me think of Kingsolver and her fantastic work. I fell in love with her on this trip and have read everything she has written since. It seemed fitting, then, that we returned here almost 20 years later with our own three children.

A nice little surprise was renting from the local diveshop, Funky Li'l Diveshop. It just so happens that it's Aggie owned and operated. Whoop!

An Aggie business.

It was a pleasure doing business here. The owner is friendly, knowledgeable, and enthusiastic about diving. But perhaps most memorable was his Aggie ring. Take a look.

The most well-loved Aggie ring I've ever seen.

That's a ring, my friends. He never takes it off. Class of '76. I have seen Aggie rings that have a bit of wear, rounded and polished here and there. They are typical on old Ags in their 80s. Not a young'un like Darrel here. I had to document it. With his permission, of course. 

Darrel Rhyne, Owner - Funky Li'l Diveshop. Proud Aggie.

The drive back was torture and began with Aquaman getting a speeding ticket just before we cleared the Balmorhea city limits. Mind your speed if you ever go out to these parts. It's pretty flat - just you and the tumbleweeds (yes, we saw lots) so it's easy to go a lot faster than you think you are. This was ironic - Aquaman never speeds and I often complain about his Grandpa-esque driving habits. I will never complain again.  

After a whirlwind 48 hours, we have 3 certified SCUBA divers to call our very own. My dad would have referred to this as the Aggie Navy. An apt description, I'd say. 

Aggie Navy.