Hiking Up Murphy Dome


I've been spending most of my days lately enjoying the cool weather out on my porch, reading and trying to prepare myself to teach freshman comp. Yesterday, my landlord suggested I take a trip up to the top of Murphy Dome, the hill I live on, and check out the hiking trails. I'm a big fan of hiking, and I'd already heard there are lots of good trails around Fairbanks I'd been meaning to check out, so today, sun bright and air cool, I decided to make the trip.

To get to the hiking trails, I had to drive farther down the road than I have yet. Murphy Dome road, which my road connects to, continues up the side of the hill, winding more through the woods, turning into gravel before it comes to the top of the hill, where there's parking and the hiking (or ATV) trails begin.

This continues my awe at the fact that I actually live here, as most days I can't really believe it. From the top, every direction is mountains, covered dark green with spruce trees close up, and gradually fading blue into the sky behind. I wandered around the hillside admiring the mountains, climbed up a huge boulder to look out over more, and walked down part of the 7 mile trail into the woods. There were flowers, birds, tracks of moose and other animals in the mud, and I even got to see a porcupine.

As I was walking back up the hill, I was contemplating how I would describe this landscape, especially the kinds of specific words I would use. I realized I had no idea how to write it, that I am lacking in the knowledge and vocabulary I need to describe the nature in Alaska. I have no idea what kind of plants I saw. I don't know what kind of rock that boulder is. I cannot name the types of birds, nor can I describe them beyond what I observed in the few minutes I had before they flew away. I don't even know what that porcupine was eating as he sauntered into the brush.

Then it made me wonder if, when I was writing my last short story set in Iowa, I took care to make sure I used these specifics. When I mentioned the fields, did I say if they were corn or soybeans? Did I describe how tall the corn was this time of year and how dark green the stalks get? Was it clear how stifling the humidity was? How the air felt thick in your lungs? Did I say it was a red-winged blackbird, specifically, that perched on the power lines above, how the red on his wings burns red as the sunset?

I anticipated this might happen. It's one of the reasons I wanted to go somewhere different for grad school. Setting is one of the weak points in my writing, and I've been trying to improve on it, but it was easy to overlook what seemed to be so ordinary. I needed to step out of it to begin to realize what is there.

I'm sure these realizations will continue and I'll be able to write Iowa more and more vividly. I'm also sure I'll learn to write Alaska. I'll be learning the names of things, their habits, the culture of the people here, why that bird (I don't know the kind yet) hops through my yard and makes so much noise rustling the leaves I know for sure he must be something bigger. Until we lose our sunlight and it gets way too cold, you can find me on the hiking trails.

I'm in Fairbanks! I have a lack of internet at the cabin right now, and I've spent most of the last few days driving around town running errands. I'm already starting to feel like I know where things are located, and Steph and I figured out hauling water, taking showers, etc. More on the dry cabin lifestyle later – today I want to share the beauty of my new home.

My cabin is located northwest of the city of Fairbanks, and it's a bit of a drive to get to from campus. It's a beautiful drive, however, winding through birch and black spruce, up and down hills. It would look as though there was nothing there but forest, except for the mailboxes that line the road, and the sometimes nearly hidden gravel driveways you might peek down to find evidence of human life. The road is paved most of the way, until just a short stretch before turning onto Richard Berry Dr. and the steep, downhill driveway which I will be sharing with my landlord, Doug, and his family once they finish their new house.

Here's the technical stuff, for those who are wondering: The cabin itself is 20' x 20' with a loft that is half the size of the downstairs area. I'm used to a lot less room than this, so right now it feels like an exceptionally large amount of space for just me. The kitchen has full appliances, lots of cupboard and counter space, and vinyl floors. The rest of the room and the loft are carpeted, and there are plenty of windows, so it gets nice and sunny inside (at least now, while the sun is up most of the day). I even have a beautiful cedar deck to sit on when the weather's nice. Speaking of weather, Doug tells me it stays warmer up here than on campus, sometimes by as much as 20 degrees. I'm looking forward to this. (I'll try to put up some pictures of the inside of the cabin later. I am currently still unpacking, so it's a pretty big mess right now.)

The cabin's got all the normal conveniences – electricity, heat, phone, internet, etc. – minus running water. To make up for this, of course, I have: the outhouse! I'm pretty proud of this little hut. Doug put it in brand new for me, with a foam seat (much warmer than wood in the winter), and he has plans to add electricity and pretty it up with a moon and stars cut in the door. The sink in my kitchen also drains to the outside on its own, so I don't have to carry out a slop bucket. For a dry cabin, it's pretty fancy really. This, coupled with the possibility of my landlord being the absolute best landlord in the entire world, satisfies me. I am already starting to love it here.

All right, less than 48 hours before I leave, and I haven't even started packing the Jeep. Everything's in boxes, but I have no idea how much of it will fit. The driving route, stops, etc. are halfway planned. I would like to say that I'm normally more organized than this, but... I'm really not. The advantage to this is I already know I'm good at winging it, so I'm not too worried; I just hope Stephanie, who is traveling with me, feels the same way.

I am good at planning unnecessary things, such as the list of challenges we've got going for things to accomplish on the way through Canada. SO, here's the game: I've been compiling a list of the best suggestions of random things to do while driving through Canada. It's kind of like a long drawn out scavenger hunt. Probably we will not accomplish all of these, but we will put effort into the endeavor (in varying levels depending on how excited we are about completing the task*). I'll be attempting to get photographic evidence of completed tasks. I'm including the list below as it currently stands. It's possible more will be added to this before we hit the border.

• Sing "Saskatchewan" in Saskatchewan
• Take a picture with a Canadian Mountie
• Find a sign in French
• Eat Canadian bacon
• Have tea with a Sasquatch
• Find a maple leaf
• Hug a Canadian
• Eat fries with gravy on them
• Mine gold
• Keep a running tally of how many times people say "eh" to us
• Find a moose
• Curl
• Find a store that sells only maple syrup
• Count the moose crossing signs
• Visit the largest mall in the world in Edmonton, Alberta
  
• Marry a Canadian**

*Basically this is a disclaimer stating that if we don't feel like doing it, we won't.

**I would just like to note that my 8-year-old brother came up with this one.