Of Monuments and Men

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

"What America needs now is a drink." 

- FDR

"A pack of jackasses led by a lion is superior to 

a pack of lions led by a jackass."

-George Washington

 

"The most reliable way to predict the future

is to create it."  

- Abraham Lincoln

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"A well informed citizenry is the best defense
against tyranny."- Thomas Jefferson

 

Korean War: 36,516 US deaths
WWII: 405,399 US deaths
Vietnam War: 58,209 US deaths

Atlas Detoura

We Got No Roots

Our first family trip in 2018 was going to be different, somehow. We thrive on diversity. Sort of. I mean, it wasn't going to be drastically different. We weren't going to jet off to Europe. We haven't won the lottery since our last post. Besides, all of our travels seem follow a similar pattern, anyways. We plan to go somewhere. We go somewhere. We look at some stuff. We are amazed. We bicker. We fight. We see something that astonishes us. Inspires us. Then, the fighting leads to screaming. And then we have epic melt downs in front of important American landmarks. We are the Woodmans, after all (see blog title). No matter where we are or where we go, it's always us. So, that should be all the more reason for us to spice things up this time around. But, how? Our answer came to us when a well-traveled friend introduced us to the website Atlas Obscura. It's basically a guide to the curious and unique places around the world. Places one normally wouldn't know about. Off the beaten path. Quirky. Fun. Different. And with over 13,000 places listed globally, it seemed like a perfect place to start.

Just two hours down the road from St. Louis, sits Casey, Illinois, a quintessential small town in rural middle America. Unassuming at first glance, it appears typical, complete with a charming downtown that hearkens of a time gone by. But there are some big differences in Casey. And by big, I mean world record big. Eight Guinness world records, to be accurate. Casey is the home to 8 of the world's largest things.  
Specifically, the world's largest:

• Mailbox
• Wooden Shoes
• Rocking Chair
• Wind Chime
• Pitchfork
• Knitting Needles
• Crochet Hook
• Golf Tee

In addition, they have other comically oversized items that aren’t quite records. There they sit, near the center of town, as if a giant came through one day and just dropped off some of his stuff. We explored. We climbed. We gawked. We even mailed ourselves a postcard from inside a mailbox that was bigger than our first house. A huge start to our trip.

Our next stop through the weird and wonderful U.S. took us to another small town. This time it was Springfield, Ohio, just west of Columbus. Here, during the Great Depression, a man named Ben Hartman crafted an elaborate art piece in his own backyard.

Using hundreds of thousands of stones, he lovingly and carefully built over fifty different structures. The end result, a unique and entertaining garden, was a labor of love for the unemployed Hartman. Following his death, his wife and then eventually an art preservation society, kept this garden open to the public. Now, 80 years later, it remains a glimpse in to one man's unique vision. The girls loved the tiny details and variety of his pieces. Castles. Cacti. The White House. Noah's Ark. All unique, and weird, and fun.
“I want to build one of those when we get home.” announced Norah.
I'm totally on board with that.

Following that stop, we left the small towns behind, and headed for a larger metropolitan area. In the heart of Columbus, Ohio sits a super cool topiary park. Using the famous painting 'A Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte' as inspiration, a sculptor has shaped the topiary in this urban park to match the work by George Seurat. Dozens of bushes, artfully shaped into people, animals, and even boats dot the scenery here. It's a landscape of a painting of a landscape. All accurately and meticulously fashioned. The extra round curves of a woman. The crouching of a dog. A rowboat crew paddling across the lake. It was playful. Fun. We immersed ourselves into a living piece of art, did some cartwheels, sniffed some dog butts, and hit the road.

Smells like Fine Art

Following an overnight hotel stay, we got back it, and landed in our last stop: Wheeling, West Virginia. A quaint river town nestled in the mountains on the tip of West Virginia was the destination for our next find. But, we were no longer content with just viewing the unique things our country has to offer. Now, we were looking to put some in our bellies.

The lower Ohio Valley is known for its local style of pizza that is different than just about anywhere else. A hot crispy and flaky crust. Baked on delicious red sauce. And then served with mounds of cold provolone on top. That's right. Cold cheese. Mounds of it. This style was developed at DiCarlo's Original Pizza shortly after WWII and the locals swear by it. We were intrigued. And by intrigued, I mean hesitant. 

“What if it's gross?” the kids pleaded.

“Well, then I guess we'll all have a gross lunch” I assured them. 

We arrived right as they opened, and 15 minutes later the place was full. Clearly the pizza is a hit. Our large pie arrived, and we dug in. It was... amazing. Everyone concurred. One of the best and most unique pizza experiences we've ever had. A great final stop on our detour through the weird.

Next up, our final destination.

Washington D.C.

Our Alaskan Adventure Part 2: The Sights

Alaska is many things. Besides huge, that is. Although, yes, it is indeed massive. It's over twice the size of Texas. And when you super-impose it over 'the lower 48', it stretches all the way from coast to coast. It's so big, it's somehow the Northernmost, the Westernmost AND the Easternmost points in the U.S. (part of it extends into the Eastern Hemisphere) But, Alaska is more than just some gigantic mass.  

It is diverse. More than we expected it to be. But I guess when your state is 1/5^th the size of the rest of the United States, there is room for variances. And Alaska definitely has them. Breathtaking views. Wild forests. Mountains. Glaciers. Coastlines. 

Alaska is many things, and we wanted to see them all. 

 

Alaska is icy.

If you asked most people to describe Alaska is 3 words, odds are, most will mention the ice and snow that is indicative of the region. Didn't we all think, as kids, that Alaska was nothing but ice? A giant snowy land where everyone lived in igloos and rode dog sleds everywhere...? 

Actually, that place sounds kind of cool. But, indeed that is not really Alaska. Not really. 

 

Byron Glacier, Girdwood, AK

Exit, stage right

That's not to say there isn't any ice in the 49^th state. There is. Tons of it. 5% of the state is covered by glaciers and active glacial fields. And 5% of Alaska is a lot (in case you forgot how big I just said Alaska was).

Glaciers are important to the whole region, and Alaska's glaciers are important to everyone. Alaska has more than half all of the glaciers in the entire world. Over 100,000 of them to be accurate. With that many, we had to go see a few.

In the Kenai Mountains, south of Anchorage lies one of the most accessible valley glaciers in the state. Exit Glacier, was named when the first successful mountaineering party crossed the Harding Icefield and exited down this glacier to the town of Seward below. In recent years, Exit Glacier has become known for it's rapid glacial melt, and is often cited as a one of the most noticeable effects of global climate change. 

That's some dense ice.

Where do urinal cakes come from? Glaciers.

Not really. But the glacial ice sure looks to be the right shade of blue. That's what happens to ice when it gets really dense. Years of compression force out any air pockets between the ice crystals making it so compact. When this happens, the ice only absorbs a small amount of red light, leaving a bluish tint in the reflected light. The results are beautiful.

Alaska is wet.

 

Now, we're no traveling dummies. We know a few things. (I mean, we have a blog and everything!) We know that the only time to go to the land of the midnight sun, is summer. And even though their version of summer is nowhere near ours, it does get decently warm. Warm enough to melt ice anyways. And it does. Every year. All that melting glacial ice, it has to go somewhere, right? It does. It flows. Downhill mostly. And in it's wake, the melting ice leaves an insane amount of waterways.

12,000 rivers. That seems like a lot, right? It is. But, not when you compare that number to the ridiculous number of lakes.

3 million lakes. Yes, million. (Nice try, Minnesota) The rivers and lakes amount to 40% of the surface water in the United States. That's a lot.

Metal Death Cage

Our first experience with the waterways of Alaska was our hike to the Girdwood hand tram. The trail lead us a couple miles into the woods and eventually to a self powered tram. We pulled ourselves, a few at a time, across the gorge, over what they called a stream. A raging stream. Through a steep canyon. In a metal death cage. 

It was awesome.

 

 

We had crossed a raging stream, and now were ready to take on something bigger.  Up next, a rafting trip down the Kenai River. With my brother-in-law piloting the 6 person craft, we floated down the swift moving, but wide river. We stopped along the way to fish for salmon from the shoreline. Minutes turned to hours as the river rushed by. We fished. We sat. We had a fire. The incredibly long twilight allowed us to stay out into the night. By the time we floated out, it was finally dark.

10:00 PM approx.

We had lots of hopes of things we wanted to do while in Alaska. Swimming, outside, was nowhere on that list. Yet, somehow we managed to get that done too. While up north, on our second weekend, it reached in to the 80s. My sister said it was the warmest she had even seen it since she lived there. It was sunny and clear. We were in the right place to check out one of the 3 bazillion lakes in Alaska. And, as a bonus, it was totally warm enough for the kids to swim. So swim they did. We hiked. They swam. We soaked in the sun. They swam. It was bliss for everyone.

Alaska is lush.

This is the one that surprised us the most. Alaska is really green. Plants are abundant. Not just pine trees, either. Tons of plants. Of all kinds. Everywhere. I suppose we are just used to mountain areas being more dry, less lush. But, Alaska is different.

I guess when it rains a lot, water is plentiful, and the sun is out for 20 hours a day, things tend to grow. Even though their warm season is short, it packs a serious punch. They get like a hyper-version of spring and summer, where everything grows like crazy, gets really big, and then just as quickly it goes away. 

 

Everywhere we went there we flowers. Wild flowers. Potted flowers. The famous Alaska Fireweed. Surprising pops of yellow and purple and pink dotted nearly every landscape we saw. 

An unexpected treat.

One hike took us into what felt like a rain forest. There were huge ferns all over. Plants with enormous leaves. Thick moss. Turns out, the area was indeed labeled a 'temperate rain forest'.

Just south of my sister's house was an area known as Potter's Marsh. This freshwater marsh, nestled between the foot of the mountains and the sea, is an animal sanctuary and ideal wildlife watching spot. This marsh is home to tons of migratory birds, and other mammals, A wooden boardwalk winds through the marsh with observation decks and binoculars aplenty. 

Alaska is coastal.

Alaska has more coastline than the entire rest of the United States combined. Over 33,000 miles of shoreline all told. And its coastal areas are no different than the rest of the state. They are also quite diverse.

Anchorage itself is technically a coastal town, sitting on the Cook Inlet that eventually dumps into the Pacific Ocean. But Anchorage's shoreline isn't conducive to typical marine activities. Because of all the silt in the water from the glaciers, the coastline in and around Anchorage is a boggy, muddy mess. Boats can't sail up and down the inlet. No marinas. No tour boats. But lots and lots of mud. When the tide was out, the wet and sloppy silt became the perfect messy play thing for our kids. They squished around in the stuff all afternoon. They even came up with 57 practical uses for this gooey muck. 
Not a hyperbole. 

57 uses.  Lotion. Hair gel. Makeup.

They listed them. 

All 57.

Repeatedly.

Use No. 32: Mud Bombs. Incoming!

Around the bend from mud beach, at the tip of Anchorage lies yet another landscape, some towering sand dunes. On a different messy day (in which we also didn't care what our kids were wearing) they jumped and leaped and ran barefoot through the dunes. They buried each other up to their heads. We picked sand out of the hair for days. 

Beluga Point

Worth it.

As we drove further south, down towards the Kenai peninsula, the shorelines changed. Now boulders and cliff outcroppings dotted the coast. These spots, which still had silt and mud below them, were perfect for exploring, staring at the sea, and taking amazing photos.  

We still hadn't seen the typical coastal area one thinks of, until we made it all the way down the peninsula to the town of Seward. Following our late night floating on the Kenai River, we drove to the sea town and spent the night in the marina, inside the Driver's sailboat. 

The next morning, Captain Craig took us out into the busy harbor. It was filled with guided fishing tour boats. Sail boats. Cruise ships. All of them came and went from the town named for the man who bought Alaska. This harbor was bustling, as we set sail and pointed towards the gulf. The sails were full. It was windy. The sea was choppy. Then... there was engine trouble. And even though we were powered by the wind, Capt. Craig didn't feel comfortable going on without a working backup engine. So, we headed back. 

 

Too brief an excursion for some, but still long enough for others to get seasick. (nudge, nudge Haley)

Don't hit the giant cruise ship, Cap'n.

Alaska is friendly. 

Cheers, Alaska.

Alaska has the lowest population density in the United States. Mostly cause it's huge. But also because a lot of the state is simply uninhabitable. There is one person for every square mile in Alaska. If New York City had the same density of people, there would only be 16 people in Manhattan. I bet parking would still suck, though.

Where we went never felt that sparse. It did feel immense, but almost never desolate of people. Probably because the population of the state doubles every summer for tourist season. Stupid tourists. They ruin everything. I mean, not us, of course. We're cool. We have a blog. 
But everyone else. Geesh...

That being said, nearly everyone we met our entire trip were the nicest people. They all made their towns, their restaurants, their attractions that much more memorable for us.

 
People sill actively mine for gold in Alaska. The state's big gold rush happened in the mid 20th century. But, even today there are profits to be made from digging valuable metals out of the ground.

We stopped at what I was sure was going to be a tourist trap, Indian Valley Mine, to 'pan for gold' as they promised.

As it turns out, it was exactly as advertised. A place to pan for real gold, and have fun doing it. This stop, run by a husband and wife for decades, bought piles of dirt from active gold mines. We bought some containers of this potential treasure, and set to work panning. The owners patiently and gently showed all the kids how to extract the valuable stuff from the dirt. They all got the hang of it, and after an hour of mining, they each took home a pretty good haul of gold, amethysts, garnet, and copper. A great stop run by great people.

We're gonna be rich!

Talkeetna Fireweed

 

Going in to our final weekend, with the weather looking promising, we decided to head back up north and check out the town of Talkeetna. This quaint and charming village lies just south of Denali State Park and is a jumping off point for mountain climbers, airplane tours, and river guides. Said to be the inspiration for 'Northern Exposure' this town is no hidden gem. No, instead it is one of the most popular places for tourists in the summer. The influx of people do not take away from this town's charm, however. They almost add to it. We spent two days in Talkeetna. Shopping. Hiking. Hanging out. Listening to music. And really, just loving this town. 

It was one of of favorite stops the entire trip. I mean, they have famously had a cat as their mayor the last two decades. How bad a place could it be?

Mayor Stubbs (II)

One other thing helped the allure of Talkeetna. There was it's promise of amazing views. 

You see, Talkeetna is also known for being a great place to see Denali...

Alaska has tall mountains.

The Great One

We can't even sarcastically utter 'allegedly' when we say that any more. Now we know Denali is real. 

We saw it. With our own common 70% eyes.

The clear skies held, and the view of the mountain from the riverside park in Talkeetna was simply amazing. 

 

It was well worth the return effort.

We were now the elite.

The upper crust.

The chosen few.

We were now official members of the 30% Club.

Screw you 70 percenters.

Now it just feels like we're showing off.