All we had to do was make the 11:30 tunnel into Whittier, and we were set, right? With this group, anything was possible. On wednesday evening, May 20th, Stacy and I welcomed our friends Krynn and Shane Pekny from Nebraska.
It was the couple's first trip to Alaska. While they were celebrating their first year wedding anniversary, we thought of no better way than to celebrate in Alaska than with a Kayaking trip. The trip had been an annual trip taken by our housemate, Jillian along with Butch and Maria Allen. With a friend of mine, Graham Ferrell to finish off the group, eight new and old friends met together on friday the morning of the 22nd to start off for a four day rowing trip out of Whittier. On that friday morning, we waited for Butch and Maria to arrive so we could load a kayak onto their vehicle. After discussing our ch
ances of making the 11:30 Whittier tunnel, we crammed everything we could into our three cars and crossed our fingers. I should let you know about this Whittier Tunnel. It is the longest tunnel in North America at 2.5 miles. 
It is also a shared tunnel with the railroad system. Just to make things more interesting, it is one lane. There is a schedule that determines the traffic flow going in both directions. Our target times were 10:30 and 11:30. The tunnel stays open for 15 minutes and then closes until the next hour. With our paddling schedule, we knew that we would have to start as early as possible. We ruled out the 10:30 and darted out the door gunning for the 11:30 time slot. We made it 2 miles south of Anchorage, when one of the kayaks came loose from atop Butch's car. While
it had not fallen off completely, we still had to pull off on the side of the highway to fasten down the kayak. This was not part of the plan, as our minutes were crucial. Back on the highway, our hopes rode slowly behind trailers trudging along. The clouds had welcomed us like a venus fly trap welcomes visiting guests. 
But we kept moving, passing whenever possible, cursing more than necessary, and made the tunnel. . . by two minutes. Two whole minutes had given us the feeling of invincibility. Nothing could go wrong the rest of the day. We won.Pulling into Whittier like a victorious Roman Army returns to Rome, we shrugged away the cold, wind, and sometimes rain that surrounded us. Our original plan was to paddle out from Whittier and camp at a place called
Decision Point. Continuing on towards Blackstone Bay, with a water taxi picking us up on Monday. We received word that there was a weather system that would not allow us to leave Decision Point for two days, and that reversing our trip would give us more of an opportunity for better rowing.!!!!!!!!!(no likey)
The decision was made and we started to pack everything up and loaded our boats on to the water taxi. Before too long we were off on our adventure. Honey Charters provided our chariots as we headed to Willard Island. An hour later we landed, unpacked and set up camp. What a wonderful place to play, Alaska is!
With Beloit Glacier in our sight, mountains all around us, Bald Eagles, porcupines, our spirits quickly lifted with the sun that emerged through the 
clouds. As soon as the kitchen and tents had been set up 
it was time to start on our quest. The first PBR was cracked, and our trip had officially started.
Krynn and Shane were the self appointed fire masters, and how they managed to start a blaze with mostly damp wood is still a wonder.
We ate well the whole trip, starting with Jill's spaghetti and moose burger sauce 
with sauteed asparagus. It tasted even better than it sounds. After dinner, and more beer, and rum and tonics, Graham and I decided that it would be good to paddle around a bit. I myself had not been in a kayak before and thought it wise to get a little head start on tomorrow by getting my paddles wet, so to speak. Needless to say my paddles weren't 
the only thing that got wet. Once in the kayak and two feet out from shore, stability and balance became a joke as I weeble-wobbled about, wondering why I couldn'
t get steady. Maria, my newly appointed kayaking guide, started shouting out guidance, "What are you doing! Stop that!" Before I could use her advice, my right arm went out like a kick-stand as I tipped over. The water was all of two feet deep, so while I had lucked out on having to perform an impromptu wet exit, my arm was cold, and wet.
I spent the next half mile trying to find a rhythm, balance, or maybe even a little bit of confidence. Deciding 
that I had enough fun, Graham and I turned around and aimed towards shore. While I found a bit of rhythm, balance left me, and once again, I tipped over a foot from shore and dipped my right arm again. Looking back, no, I probably shouldn't have gone out that evening. Then again, this blog entry is better for it.
Back at the campsite, Krynn had found an old harpoon/javelin looking pole. This soon became a fun photo opportunity and activity for myself.
After, we decided on a group photograph each day and posed for our first one.
Before we knew it, the tide was rising, and our first gam of "Who Can Hit That Before The Tide Rises Over It" was played. The tide dictated the games ending, and our bedtime soon followed.
Saturday morning came with familiar clouds and rain. This, however, would not stop us from enjoying a
wonderful breakfast provided by Butch and Maria. The calm waters of yesterday were choppy with wind and rain. We decided to try it anyway. We made it about one mile through two and three foot waves, constant battles with direction, with no improvement with balance. The group decided to head back and forfeit this day to relaxing by the fire and drinking. 
We didn't feel any sense of self defeat, even though we didn't make very far.
We made it back with a chunk of glacier, a key ingredient to the Glacier-ita's, tested and
served by myself.
With a day and a half already in the books, the group had paddled a little over one mile. Our spirits would not be dampened by the rain. Our dinner was salmon tacos, featuring Stacy's own Salsa-mole.
Our 'kayaking' trip was turning into quite a gourmet event. The rest of the rainy day was spent laughing, deep conversations surrounding Millie Vanilli, Stacy's dance routines, another group photo, and finger crossing for clear skies for the next day.
A new ritual soon reared its head when Butch let loose an old tradition of a "flaming rock way" of setting ablaze our human waste and launching it into the sea. (It was a good thing that we took the bit of glacier out for our drinks before hand.) That's right, folks. We lit our poop on fire, then threw it. By the end of our trip, you would have guessed that Germ-X sponsored our trip.
Sunday came with not only sunshine, but with a cloudless blue sky. After 
drying out our tents and gear, packing up our kitchen, and for the first time stuffing everything we had in our kayaks, we were finally off toward the thundering glaciers of Blackstone Bay. The water was welcoming calm, begging for us to paddle in it.
As huge chunks of ice fall from glaciers, known as calving, it creates a huge thundering sound that echoes throughout the bay. Closing in on Blackstone Glacier, we saw Benoit Glacier put on its own show with huge chunks falling into the sea. Ice chunks that ranged in size from ice cubes, to honest icebergs, scattered Blackstone Bay as we neared its glacier. It felt like we were paddling in a huge glass if ice water.
We stopped for a snack about half of a mile from Blackstone Glacier. Passing trail mix and water back and forth we enjoyed our scenery. Huge ice chunks fell into the sea, like the demolition of an old skyscraper that falls into the ground. The thundering brought cheers with oohs and aahs from us all. The sun was beaming, and the weather couldn't have been more cooperative for a long days paddle. As we continued on, Jillian and I rowed a little closer to the glacier, while the others headed back towards that evening's campsite. 
I was by now feeling much better and even comfortable in my kayaking skills. It was still only my first day, but I was able to keep up. 
Jill and I caught our group and we found a good cove to enjoy a quick mid afternoon snack and stretch. Back in our kayaks, we paddled our way through the sunshine and wonderfully smooth water and landed on our destination around 5:30 or 6:00. 
The sun allowed us to dry out some of our damp clothes, and covered us for a good nap before we set up our tents. Every 15 -20 minutes we had to move our things further down the beach to adjust to the setting sun.
The tide was to rise it's highest that night to almost 15 feet. So we took extra care in making sure our kayaks were high up and tied down. Setting up the tents took a little longer 
than it had our first night. Tearing down our tents earlier in the day, I snapped one of Graham's tent poles. Stacy and Graham turned MacGyver, and sleeved the tent pole with the cap from a sharpie and a bottle of Dramamine. It was awesome.
Continuing in our gourmet standards, we had pesto pasta with zucchini. Tonight's dinner was also special because it was our celebration for Krynn and Shane's one year wedding anniversary. The paper anniversary was represented
with paper streamers for headdress and a '1' candle. Also a pyramid was chosen for our group photo that night. Coincidentally, our camp fire was directly in front a perfect stump for which to place rock targets for our ever popular game of "Who Can Hit That Before The Tide Rises Over It". 
This edition of play became tricky as the water rose. Soon we were unable to reach the stump, not yet 'tided over', while staying dry. It was up to Butch who threw on his hip waiters to place the target stones. The tide even inched it's way closer to our fire. Once that went out, it was time to call it a day. 
Monday had a lot of pressure to outperform the 
day Sunday had been. But just as Krynn and Shane with their anniversary candle, Monday blew out Sunday. It was another bluebird day with the sun even brighter than the day before. I honestly feel like it was Mother Nature's way of saying "My bad. I'm really sorry for what happened Friday. Can you find in your hearts forgive me?" We did and enjoyed our final day of paddling to the fullest.
Our group picture was decided to be taken of us in our kayaks. Cue the "i-pod, gorilla pod" as Butch calls it. We found a rock that had just recently been swept over by a wave, and Maria and Butch made their way towards that rock for the camera.
we did our best to connect our kayaks wondering just how the two were going to set the timer and row into the shot in seconds. While the picture did get all of heads in, we also got help from a couple on the shore, just in case. 
We enjoyed games of Canoe Tag and singing random songs, some made up others were variations on originals. As we headed for our break spot thoughts of jumping in started to creep in. It had to of been around 70 degrees outside. With that, the water couldn't have been warmer than 40 degrees. There was ice floating in these waters, for crying out loud! once we landed the decision had been made to go for it, with only Butch, myself, Graham, and Jillian as participants. Butch found a good jump off point and that was enough. Graham took the first plunge followed by Butch and I, then Jill. It was cold. It was really cold. I mean honestly very, very cold. So we all jumped in again.
The sun was our saving grace, and it actually felt really good, once we were out of the water. Pictures and laughter, along with peanut butter and nutella tortillas finished out our lunch break and it was on for the final stretch into Whittier.
The sun continued to shine with hardly a cloud in the sky as we
paddled. The water had become a little rough, (keeping in mind that we had been used to paddling in ridiculously calm water) as we neared a place called Shotgun Cove. The wind became a new factor with the rough water and made it quite difficult for us. Being Memorial Day and lots of boats were out for a ride. Paddling against their wake also became a challenge.
The scenery never let up, however. No longer were the glaciers in view, but wonderful mountains surrounded us. If I was ever tired, I never knew it because I couldn't help but smile and feel a renewed energy from the Alaska nature.
We met for one last group gathering on the water to break for a quick drink and snack. Whittier was in sight but still a ways away. The last few hours seemed to take days, but we finally paddled in to the boat ramp. We didn't have time to celebrate and reminisce, however, there was still a tunnel to catch. After feverishly stuffing our cars, we breezed through the tunnel and made our way to Girdwood. Over burgers, we remembered glacier-itas, salsamole, rock throwing, and flaming-poo-on-rock tosses. All of these memories with the friends that were there made it a Memorial Day Weekend, that will not be forgotten.
