My experiences in Ellamar, Alaska were absolutely amazing.
Alaska is a beautiful place. There is no way to describe the breathtaking sights I saw or the awesome incidents that took place while there. No way to describe the glee and transformation of a free soul on the edge of the untamed wild. While Anchorage was somewhat dirty, Fairbanks quaint and Valdez stunningly picturesque, it was Ellamar that made me fall in love with the Alaska.
I left the interior of Alaska at Fairbanks by car. The drive from Fairbanks to Valdez, along the Richardson Highway, runs 368 miles (562 km). The out of this world scenery helped pass the driving time.
From geologic wonders of snow-capped mountains to spectacular glaciers to breathtaking waterfalls, coupled with sometimes-foggy, snowiest place in Alaska mountain passes to canyons to rivers to wildlife to fresh spring water jug-filling stops; the 360 degrees of wonder that surrounded, every moment of the drive, never got old.
Valdez, the end of the Trans Alaskan Pipeline, had an impressive skyline that rivaled the Swiss Alps. It was roughly a 2-hour boat trip from the Port of Valdez, through the Valdez Arm (Valdez-Dutch Harbor) along the Alaska Marine Highway (the country’s most unique Scenic Byway) in Prince William Sound to the Tatitlek Narrows to Virgin Bay. Ellamar is across the way from Bligh and Busby Islands in Valdez-Cordova County, approximately 20 mi (32 km) southwest of Valdez. Alaska native coastal villages, Chenega and Tatitlek, are nearby.
Ellamar, in Prince William Sound, resides in the Chugach National Forest and is the world’s farthest north temperate rainforest. Archeological evidence shows that the Chugach people have survived and prospered for thousands of years. The Alutiiq people of Tatitlarmiut, of northeastern Prince William Sound, lived in the area of Ellamar, once called Palutaq. Less than 15 people call Ellamar home fulltime.
Everything: equipment, supplies, wood, vehicles; had to be hauled-in by boat. Or seaplane. There are no roads leading to the village. There is no other way to reach civilization. It is remote. Perhaps that is why I enjoyed it so much. It is the essence of Alaska.
The natural grandeur around Virgin Bay was enormous, with unpopulated spaces, it was easy to get away from it all. Wild lands, wild life, wild fish and wild life!!! I was off the grid.
Despite being isolated from the modern trappings of life, the comforts of home were available. The cabin I stayed at (part of “Ellamar Base”) had running water from a large rainwater storage tank. Lots of rain comes to the splendid sub-polar rainforest. The water is used for dishes (yes it’s heated!), showers, toilet, etc. There was electricity from a generator. There was also an outhouse available where one could sit and expel wastes while looking out on beautiful Virgin Bay.
There was transportation, The Lil Red Hoopty, otherwise known as the Ellamar Taxi, that made it a delight to travel the primitive roads or down to the beach.
The cabin had a full kitchen, that I used many times, especially to create delicious breakfasts like my signature homemade biscuits and country gravy. There is nothing like sitting on the deck overlooking the bay in the early morning whilst consuming bacon, eggs, toast and coffee!
Ellamar is unspoiled by the modern world. What was once, over 100 years ago, a bustling mining area, had reverted back to magnificent countryside. Mother Earth always wins. It was so quiet. My senses were enhanced. Those stout trees waved and swayed as if they were dancing to a silent, predetermined earthly symphony. I was not the conductor of this ethereal peace, but an onlooker to this vast account and my heart soared on elation and on infinite possibilities. There were no other sounds. No city. Not the sound of traffic. No police sirens. No car alarms or horns. No trains. No barking dogs. No buzzing electrical poles. No arguing neighbors or lawn mowers. No static or white noise. It was complete, deafening silence. My soul was completely at peace. I meditated, as I often do, for clarity, for calm, for peace and for mind.
Not even the ghosts of the past were stirring. Evidence of early-1900s wood construction and equipment was scattered throughout the area: the collapsed dance hall, the old boat house and mining boilers etc. All one has to do is dig a little in the ground to find an old bottle or broken pieces of fancy china covered by 100 years worth of growth, dead plant matter and erosion. There is a rock shelf in the middle of Virgin Bay, as well as the old mine shaft, now filled with water and debris, called the “Glory Hole,” which is over 600 feet deep.
As a foodie, I must comment on the foodstuffs experienced in this wonderland. As one would expect, there was a lot of good fishing in Prince William Sound! I used a net to scoop-up glacial ice for beverage and fish cooling.
There were delightful feasts of fresh clams, oysters, shrimp and fish – the sea took care of me all deep fried, gilled and good. Alaska’s summer waters teem with 5 kinds of wild Pacific salmon, halibut, hefty rainbow trout, delicious halibut, rockfish and delicate arctic grayling. And there was moose. The scrumptious moose! And black bear! Corned bear! Delicious! I tried corned bear! I held the skull of the bear I ate. So delicious and delightful.
I saw porpoises, sea lions and puffins in the wild! The forests provided a steady food supply for bald and golden eagles.
I was surrounded by the most beautiful natural wonders. As I sat in a stunted tree atop a hill overlooking a green meadow, with aspen and spruce trees all around, I wished I could share the wonderful sights with everyone everywhere. Pictures do not do it justice at all. Words sure do not do it justice.
siphon by rad
the numbness of reality suffocates at times but at least the mind rests during sleep to assemble meaning to puzzle mysteries that hang heavy overhead over soul over brain over life over destiny over future overhead whilst spinning and dizzy consciousness slips through slanted corridors lacking natural light
what is and what will be are dangling threads of strings of membranes of lines of connections of light and dark and light again
cacophony of past present future balance and disarray flashes in nanoseconds throughout spacetime through means unseen unperceived
chorus to this account i seem to be
witness to all things
with feeling and thought
sight beyond sight
curiosity and experiment
experience and jamboree
One never knows when, if or how one will ever fall in love. It usually isn’t something that is planned. It happens.
Even if love isn’t reciprocated sometimes, it is still amazing to deeply love and care for another human being; to put happiness, the needs, wishes and desires of another above oneself. It gives life a higher purpose and profound meaning. It’s what it means to be human.
I don’t regret falling in love, nor proclaiming my love loudly out loud to someone else. Life is short. Tell the people in your life how much they mean to you. Don’t move ahead without letting them know. Tomorrow is not guaranteed.
I have a deep capacity to love. Maybe one day someone will love me back.
Five deposits of volcanic ash have been located and sampled in Pratt County, Kansas. The thickest of these (pictured) has 14 feet of volcanic ash exposed in a pit.
Have you ever rolled around in the dirt just because it’s there? Ever wonder where that dirt came from? Me too!
Greetings. I lived in Pratt, Kansas once but am “from” Pratt in a cosmic sense, as my great-great grandfather Whitney Bailey arrived in the county in 1887 at the age of 15. He was a wheat farmer in McPherson and Saratoga Townships.
I enjoy learning about the past, especially about where I live. I am a history buff who is heavily interested in genealogy and geology. And I roll around in dirt.
I was at the Pratt County Historical Museum one day pouring over historic maps of the county. Wallowing in a pile of old maps is how I roll. Pratt County landmarks like Skunk Johnson’s Cave, Pilot Knob and Arrowhead Hill made my imagination whirl. Fascinating.
Then something called “Volcanic Ash Pit” caught my curiosity. The tiny drawing on this aged 100-year-old map was akin to a modern orbital satellite photo of the fictional Sarlacc pit, the Great Pit of Carkoon, in “Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi!” A nerdy rock hound from Colorado, a geologic paradise in its own right, I am in love with rocks and the stories they tell. And, being a dirt flounderer, I immediately knew I needed to find out more about this pit. Who doesn’t like to visit pits? Pits are exciting. Pits are amazing. If I had a nickel for ever pit I’ve visited I would have a gaggle of nickels.
I scoured over satellite imagery of Pratt County in search of the pit. I searched the internets. I spoke with local old-timers. I became obsessed with this mysterious oddity.
A friend of a cousin’s cousin made me privy to an enigmatic area called the “silica pit,” a place in the county where generations of children played in the dirt. Corroborating this first-hand knowledge with information gleaned from a 1973 Kansas Geological Survey Bulletin #205 and a thesis about the “chemical fingerprinting” of volcanic tephra found in Kansas by Brian T. David of Kansas State University, I was pointed to what I believed was the “Volcanic Ash Pit.”
I went there. All of my pit dreams came true.
My eyes did behold the majesty of the “Volcanic Ash Pit!” It was an old pit with layers of volcanic ash 14 feet thick along the walls! The ash, essentially fine shards of white to grey glass spewed from a volcano, was once excavated from the site and used in concrete for roads. Others uses for “silica” included soaking up blood at meat packing plants and in bathroom cleansers. Long abandoned, this pit was now just a hole in the ground inhabited by animals and plants.
Where did this “dirt” come from? The ash, from an erupting volcano, was carried by winds over Kansas many years ago and settled to the ground. Streams washed the ash into shallow depressions.
Could this Pearlette ash bed be Lava Creek B Tuff of the Yellowstone Caldera, the last major eruption from the Yellowstone volcanic center 640,000 years ago? Was it derived from the explosion of Valle Grande Caldera supervolcano in north-central New Mexico roughly 1.2 million years ago? That was a time when humans were an endangered species! I am filled with questions.
The debate is still out on the origin of the ash and where it fits on the geologic time scale. Regardless of its origin, it is a superb geologic site. Especially for Kansas. It is doubly superb it exists in Pratt County Kansas.
My mission complete and personal dirt quota satisfied, I prepared for another learning adventure into the surrounding area in which my ancestors, and myself, called home.
A delicious bowl of pozolé always warms my soul. That is all.
I made gluten-free biscuits and dairy-free sausage gravy as an experiment because I am President and Founder of the Biscuits and Gravy Society
The biscuits, made with egg whites, almond and coconut flour, were awful. They were dense and did not absorb the white country sausage coconut milk gravy. They were dry. It was as if I were choking down tablespoons of baking powder. I was excited to make them and made a double batch. I couldn’t finish the first plate. I threw the rest away.
The gravy was decent.
Not my best creation. Oh well. I’ll try another recipe.
Life. It’s a strange and difficult journey.