Alaska has been a dream for me since I was a child and read Jack London, and in 1996 my dream became a reality. I have always been attracted to true wilderness, and Alaska is the ultimate expression of this. When I got my first digital camera in 2001, a new hobby and passion were born. It begins with winter and then progresses through the seasons.
"To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world."
-John Muir, ‘Travels in Alaska’
Just like the TV show “Northern Exposure”. This was the view from the kitchen window of our first Alaska house. Even though it was near an international airport and was densely populated, moose were frequent visitors.
It was an honor and privilege to live here and have a view like this.
The view from our living room on Christmas Eve 2003
Roughly the same view as the picture above except that now it’s June and not December.
Standing on Ruth Glacier at 5600 feet with Denali 11 miles behind me, and 3 vertical miles above.
Explorer Glacier in Portage Valley. A place I spent a lot of time. Notice the waterfalls.
For all those not lucky enough to have eaten true wild Alaska salmon, this is what it looks like a few hours removed from the water. A tad different than what you get at the grocery store.
Camping in a tent during blueberry season in grizzly country. I’m not sure what we were thinking.
Sunset from atop a bluff near Homer, with Mount St. Augustine, an active volcanic island about 70 miles away.
It’s early October and the autumn light is surreal. This is what I love about Alaska, ever-changing, lonely, and sometimes somber, it makes you feel things you have never felt before.
Desolate, empty, unforgiving and beautiful.
Quite possibly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, Tern Lake, Kenai Peninsula.
Early October morning, Sterling Highway, Kenai Peninsula.
A placid Kenai lake.
In June, 2005 we moved To Ketchikan. 1675 road miles away (776 by air) south southeast.
Ketchikan was a distinct change from southcentral Alaska where we had lived for years. Unreachable by road, it sits on an island 50 miles long by about 35 miles wide in the middle of the Tongass National Forest, the largest national forest in the country. A temperate rainforest, the climate is decidedly wet with an average of 162 inches of rain a year (199 inches one year we were there). By comparison, Seattle averages 37. But all that rainfall created some of the most beautiful forests and waterfalls anywhere.
Downtown Ketchikan. Called Alaska’s 1st city because it is the furthest south and hence first stop for steamers heading north back in the day, and cruise for ships today.
Often photographed historic Creek St.
The saying goes that the streams are so full of fish that you can walk across the water and not get wet. It appears this is not far from the truth.
Berry picking on Brown Mountain with my lovely wife. You can see forever.
Ketchikan had the best trails I have found anywhere.
Ketchikan harbor after a little snow.
Moose’s beach, so-called because it was one of his favorite places, was walking distance from our home. It was always just us and the wind.
Mountaintop view looking west towards Prince of Wales Island 30 miles away.
Me with a huge Sitka Spruce tree that I was told by forestry officials was over 1000 years old and well over 160ft. tall. I would see this tree almost daily as I guided hiking tours on this trail. I named it Stuart, after a good friend who was killed in a car accident in 1985. I had some spiritual experiences here in 2007 and on the trail leading here that I wrote about in my book, A Gentler Path.
My brother Joe, who passed in 2018, at a local waterfall. Love you brother.
Not a bad bounty after a couple hours of halibut fishing offshore from our home. We ate a lot of fish tacos in the following months.
A foggy morning on the Tongass Narrows- de Havilland Beaver and fishing trawler.
Thanks for making the effort to take this trip back in time with me; a tour of places, memories and love. I will say that gathering these pictures was emotional. As much as I love Wisconsin, my heart still aches for Alaska, and it probably always will.