Final Thoughts About Alaska

As we fly home, I want to jot down some impressions while they’re still fresh. #joysofaging There is a what I see as a unique mindset among Alaskan natives (distinguished from Alaskan Native Americans); it is a very different way of thinking and approach to life which manifests itself in a variety of ways. I did not, however, find anything that could explain Sarah Palin. Neither could Alaskans.

I’m including a small few of my favorite pictures throughout this article, but I promise they have absolutely no connection to the words themselves and the order is, more or less, random. Almost all were posted elsewhere on Facebook, so feel free to look my page up if you want a more comprehensive collection.

The Alaskan lifestyle is active and outdoorsy, incorporating constant interaction with nature. It seems most everyone spends their leisure time hiking, climbing, boating, fishing, hunting…. I’m pretty sure that the 49th state is waaaay down on the American obesity charts. My observation: if you see someone overweight in Alaska, odds are strong you’re looking at a tourist. It is not a lifestyle that I would find enticing, but I certainly have a lot of respect for those who do.

The people we met were universally friendly and welcoming, proud of their state and happy to share its beauty. At the same time, they are also, and this may seem somewhat paradoxical, kind of a solitary lot. Lots of small towns, almost villages, really, with isolated, or at most small pods houses, kind of like the whales and eagles we saw in abundance. No McMansions here (someone is actually living in this old mining office). There is a definite pioneer sense, an embracing of self-sufficiency, fitting for a state that bills itself, accurately in my view, The Last Frontier.

The landscape is equal parts breath-taking and forbidding. It is not for the faint of heart, mind or body. Recycling and repurposing is not an environmental fad as much a piece of their “waste not, want not,” almost Spartan, culture. The native peoples and their contributions to the story of Alaska also seem to be respected, even honored and celebrated by the non-indigenous denizens. I certainly didn’t get into depth enough to know whether some of the problems faced by Native Americans in the lower 48 are more problematical (although I suspect so), but Alaska has just so much space that there seems to be less competition and less pressure to conform. It struck me that there is a definite blending of the non-native and native cultures and ways of life.

As I peruse the pictures I took on this trip, I am struck by how much it reminds of the South Pacific, except, you know, Alaska being 30-40 degrees colder, although only slightly less humid, and significantly less sunny. Both locales, however, are incredibly green with awe-inspiring vistas: from the islands floating in variegated water in the South Pacific to the snow-capped peaks in Alaska. As we traveled in the former last Spring, it got to the point of one picture following another of lush, tropical views. In Alaska last week it was picture after picture of mountains and forests and icy streams, almost magnetically captivating, to be sure, but not all that different from the day before.

I would be more than happy to revisit this vast magnificent land; even from a tourist perspective, there are many more places to explore. But for any number of reasons, I cannot imagine actually living in Alaska, even as a seasonal employee. Too grey, (I need the sun creating a shine from my head to my toes.) too isolated, too rustic, too “uncivilized.” I may be an introvert but have no desire to become a hermit. I need my cultural and my creature comforts. Well, maybe I don’t need them, but I want them and have no desire to live without them. By Alaskan standards I am, no doubt, soft. And while I have no illusions about surviving the Zombie or some other apocalypse, I’m not at all concerned for the perpetuation of the species as long as we have Alaskans.