White Mountain Ski

Success should not always be measured in miles skied, peaks summited, or elevation gained.  The wilds of Alaska continue to define me.  Its daunting year round landscape provides challenges to last a lifetime.  My years in Alaska have only honed my skills and sharpened my senses in the outdoors.  Yet its times like this I’m humbled by her and forced to rethink what I call a successful backcountry trip. Is success simply spending two enjoyable days skiing with a friend.  Or learning the way snow falls in new mountains.  In the most morbid sense, success is merely returning home alive.

Did we complete the 3 day, 40 mile trip I had planned?  No.  Did we reach both cabins I had reserved for us?  No.  I hate to sound cliché, but if you measured success in these terms- we failed.  One of the things I love most about Alaska is while she crushes your ego with raw elemental force; she builds you back up in her beauty.  Alaska is always true to herself.  Daunting.  Deep.  Unembellished while teeming with elegance and charisma.  I find humility in the vigilant way this landscape lives and grows in the truest sense.  Forcing those pursing her wilds to be always ready, as she is ever present. 

It started as a three-day cross-country skiing tour of the While Mountains.  We were planning to ski the Wickersham Dome to Summit Trail. Eight miles the first day to the Summit Trail Shelter.  Day two called for 12 miles out the Summit Trail intersecting with the Wickersham Creek Trail, and arriving at a cabin I reserved, the Borealis-LaFouvre Cabin.  Then, our third and final day we were to ski 20 miles along the Wickersham Creek Trail back to the Elliot Highway mile 28 parking lot.   I knew the Summit Trail was the only non-motorized trail we would travel.  I believed this trail to be groomed a couple times a season as well as highly traveled, I was wrong. 

The first two miles of the Wickersham Dome trail were spectacular.  Rolling well-traveled trails over a couple domes before arriving on the summit ridge of the Wickersham Dome.  After another mile we were breaking crust on a windy exposed ridge.  Despite the Elliot Highway still being visible, I felt committed to our pursuit of the Summit Shelter.  This is the point my research failed.  We dropped into dense spruce forests with waist deep sugary faceted snow.  Even with skis on we were post-holing strait through to the frozen tundra below.  The progress was exhausting and painstakingly slow.  I think we traveled less than three miles in about eight hours.  As the darkness enveloped us so to our goal of reaching the shelter became dimmer and dimmer.  At 10:30pm Saturday night we made the call to stop, melt snow into water, and attempt to eat our first real meal of the day.  After 13 hours trudging along we were exhausted, dehydrated, and in need of calories.  The conversation quickly turned to our chances of surviving the night bivouacked here in the woods.  I know I’m very naïve of others feelings at times, and overly confident of my own self in the outdoors.  Surely both, because I wasn’t scared for a second about having to camp here, exposed, under the Arctic midnight.  My partner had doubts.  Maybe he had a better grasp of the gravity of the situation then me.  I feel decisions such as those we had to make are shaped by experience.  Several other situations came to mind where either I, or my Dad, made similar decisions.  Trudge beyond fatigue and exhaustion to a safer location.  Or, to the best of your ability, make this site safe as possible with any means available.  Despite oncoming snow flurries and frigid temperatures, I opted to stay.  Rest, food, water, and the warmth of a sleeping bag seemed to take precedent over continuing into the unknown.  Despite being only 1.31 miles away, according to my GPS, that trek could take hours, in the dark, through unfamiliar territory.   As I tried to melt snow and begin cooking food Scott collected wood and built a fire.  The decision to build a fire was Scotts alone.  I’m glad he was there, because it was a really good decision.  I probably wouldn’t have built a fire were it not for him.  The fire became an emblem of hope.  “We can make it if we have fire.”  I soon learned Jet Boil stoves don’t work very well in sub-zero temperatures.  With a nearby camp fire, the Jet Boil began efficiently burning the containerized fuel allowing us to melt snow quicker and prepare dinner. 

Quickly clouds moved in.  Throughout the night we were dusted with fresh snow.  I awoke in my sleeping bag several times over night, slightly chilled. Enshrouded in my cocoon it was hard to get up, knowing my ski boots were probably frozen.  I cringed thinking about cramming my warm foot into a cold frozen boot.  As I lay in my bivy sack, I yelled across our snow pit, briefing Scott- “Once we get up, we need to hustle.  Right now we’re comfortable, in about 10 minutes we’re going to be freezing.  Hands numb as we pack our bags.  Toes blocks of ice as we move about in frozen boots.  Just know the faster we get packed, the sooner we’ll be on the trail, moving along, warming ourselves back up.  Don’t worry, it’s all part of winter camping.”

Dawn Sunday morning brought clear skies and fresh snow on everything.  Scott and I quickly discussed our options as we packed our bags.  Trudge another 1.3 miles to the shelter, then possibly five to six more miles down to the motorized trail, or follow our already broken trail back to the parking lot.  I felt lost giving up on my expedition so easily.  The 40 mile loop in my mind, the measure of success for this trip, had vanished.  It was time to let common sense prevail, and consider returning via the known safe route.  With little debate, we both decided to turn around.  What took 13 hours Saturday, only took 8 hours backtracking the same route Sunday.  In the densest of trees and deepest of snow the already broken trail was glorious.  Atop the exposed domes our trail from the day before had already blown away.  Leaving only hard crust that we quickly skated across.   

My feelings of defeat turned to glory as we crested the Wickersham Dome.  The midday sun shone through frozen spruce trees.  The surface of the snow glazed over with a thin wind hammered slab.  It was so hard my ski poles could not penetrate the surface.  As we skied closer to our final destination, the sun began setting.  Unlike the night before, when I had pull out my headlamp navigating the dark woods, trying to find a shelter- now I knew we would reach the truck before twilight.  I enjoyed the orange, pink, and purple glow illuminated across the frozen White Mountains.  All the clouds had lifted revealing the surrounding mountains.  Endlessly the landscape lifted and fell in all directions.  They were not jagged peaks but mountainous domes, rising above the valleys below.  Tapering off into the great beyond.  I wondered if on a clear day I could see the Yukon River from here, at least a hundred miles to the North.  Despite fatigue growing and growing, the last 3 miles were enjoyable- with sun setting, fast trails, and a fun descent off Wickersham dome.  I felt as if once again it had been a successful trip, until discovering the beers in the bed of my truck had frozen…

Chasing Caribou

After multiple reports of the Caribou herd sighted from the plane, I decided to chase them down myself.  What I found was groups of Caribou numbering 20-50 moving amongst the lakes to the South of Arctic Village.  Gretchen and I left Jack-Jack at home, for fear he would scare away the Caribou,  hoping for some good photographs.

Within 200 meters of passing the last house we spotted 4 caribou in the trail.  They quickly became aware of our presence and ran away.  For the next hour we crossed a couple smaller lakes East of the airport, then turned due South.  Our first contact with the larger herd was on Khaali lake.  From at least 3/4 mile away, we watched about 50 caribou crossing the open frozen lake.  With a bright sun shining low on the horizon behind them, only their silhouettes were visible.

Next we turned West and headed back towards the Southern end of the runway. Then found a side trail taking us even more Southerly and encountered "Caribou Cove".  A small serene lake hidden by rolling hills and surrounded with snow covered slopes.  Here we had a perfect vantage point to watch the caribou meander across the frozen space.  Bedding down and munching on vegetation around the edges.  Occasionally digging up snow looking for lichen to eat.  Scattered across the lake was the entrails of several caribou shot days before.  Attempting to sneak up on the small pack of 5 didn't go so well.  They were very alert.  Watching as I began moving closer, then darting off across the lake and into the black spruce trees.  The caribou seem more timid now then I remember.  Last year I rode in the school maintenance truck as we drove through the middle of them.  Worried they would bounce off our hood.  Today, they wanted nothing to do with human contact.  Have they been over hunted the last couple days?  Are they more self aware of the world around them near the end of winter?  Or are they less safe in smaller numbers then the 1,000+ I witnessed last year?

At this point we were beginning to think about our way home.  Fingers had become a little numb after stopping to snap photos for to long.  We discussed a route back over the village landfill, down to the Chandalar, and home via a packed snow machine trail heading up river.  It sounded great, but we would find out the packed snow machine trail didn't extend as far South as I expected.  So we ended up bushwhacking and following caribou trails for another two hours before finally intersecting the packed freeway.  Arriving back home with purple pink skies turning quickly darkness.

The total ski was 10.6 miles.  Enjoy my short film, "Chasing Caribou".

Good Ole' Fashion Fun

I wouldn't consider myself a "motorhead" kind of guy- but I enjoy a little throttle therapy every now and then.  The past warm week brought with it several inches of fresh snow.  This morning I awoke to a heavy layer of hoar frost on everything.  As soon as school got out I rushed home, warmed up the snow-go, and started playing.  

My original goal was a scouting mission looking for Caribou.  I had heard several people had seen the herd numbering over a thousand very close South of the village.  

The snow lying on the river was at least two feet deep, three in places.  Unlike south central, here it is typically dry and very cold- making what I call dandruff snow.  It is so unbonded that abruptly stopping causes my track to sink all the way to raw ice.  Once you stop, its hard to start again.  I made this mistake once, and spent 15 minutes digging out the rear end and dragging my machine to a compacted trail where it could grip.  The key, don't stop, hold the throttle and float on the snow, as if you were carving out the clouds.

All photographs are by Gretchen.

The New Guy

by Gretchen

As I was sitting in the lobby at Wright Air Service today I sat down next to a wide-eyed guy, quietly taking everything in.  It was obviously his first time here.  You could tell by the look on his face.  The regulars at "Wrights" walk in, chat with the ladies at the desk, joke with the pilots, drink bad coffee and stand outside for smoke breaks.  It is really more like a bus station than an airport terminal.  If Wright Air had a Frequent Flyer program I would have Super Elite Premium Platnum Status by now.  I always see people I know here.  Today I was busy watching someone's baby while they went out to pack boxes and check in cargo when the new guy started asking me questions. "Where are you flying?" "You mean you live all the way up there?" "What do you do there?"  I am a talker by nature and always glad to chat about the beautiful and unique place we get to live.  So I told him a bit about the area, then asked what brought him to Alaska.

He is from Chattanooga, Tennessee (where my Dad grew up!) He just graduated from UT with an engineering degree and decided to take a 45 day trip to experience Alaska before getting a job.  (Gotta love that!)  This was his first time ever flying. Not just his first time flying on small planes, but ever flying at all!  What a trip to take for someone who has never flown!  He flew from TN to Minneapolis, to Anchorage, to Fairbanks, then was heading out to Tanana to meet a musher and take an 11 day dog sled trip across the interior.  He hopes to see the Northern Lights while out dog sledding.

It reminded me how much I love to hear stories of people who venture out to see Alaska!  It is such an amazing place to explore.  I wonder if he'll be one of the ones that starts out on vacation and ends up staying.  It seems to happen up here!  Have a great trip!

Blood In The Tracks

After almost two weeks of frigid temperatures around -50F, it was a welcomed blessing to see the thermometer rise above 0F this past weekend.  I grabbed my ski's, Jack grabbed his harness, and we headed out!  

My goal with warm temps and soft snow was to ski all the way up Dachenlee.  This is the "holy" mountain with gently rising slopes South East of Arctic Village.  The days tally would be 10 miles skied with 1200ft elevation gain.  

I wasn't able to reach the final ridge of Dachenlee because of low hanging snow clouds.  So I pulled my thermos out and enjoyed a warm cup of tea at one of the Fall hunting camps.  Now just a skeleton of sticks and stones.  All around the ground was trampled, snow scattered everywhere, vegetation exposed.  The caribou had been here in small groups, bedding down, grazing, and moving on. 

On the way back to the village, about a mile away we encountered blood in the tracks, literally.  Someone had shot a caribou off one of the side trails.  The caribou had been most likely been tied to the back of a wood sled, his blood running out of him the whole way back.  Rather then follow bread crumbs home, we skied along a line of bright red. 

 

Jack was none to impressed.  I think he was hoping for a steak at the end...

A Sort of Homecoming

This school year I have been part of a state funded social studies curriculum called Map TEACH.  The program is designed to get students thinking geo-spatially through GIS, GPS, remote sensing, and place based local knowledge of the land. Twice we’ve met in Fairbanks for workshops.  This time we met in Anchorage.  Its been almost nine months since I was in my old stomping grounds.  

To my luck I arrived on the first Thursday of February, just in time for First Tap!!!  This months lineup had the Young Fangs opening up from Fairbanks, followed by laVoy from Wasilla.  I really enjoyed both bands.  They had a post-punk emo/indie sound which really filled the room with screaming guitars, groovy bass-lines, and heavy drum beats.

Twice since I’ve become a teacher I had the pleasure of staying in the Hotel Captain Cook.  Not what I expected, but hey, with enough grant money anything is possible...

These photographs were taken from the 15th floor of my hotel.  I observed the icebreaker cargo ship passing by my hotel window out in the Cook Inlet.  I loved the way Sleeping Lady Mountain was looming in the distance.

Anchorage has had record snowfall this year.  Unfortunately I had to leave my skis in Fairbanks, with little time to spare for the backcountry.  The photos of Anchorage were also taken from the elevator lobby on the 15th floor of the Cook Hotel, just before sunset.

“Beyond Fifty Below"

This weekends weather was the inspiration for a new You Tube series.  I know everyone has heard the old tale “if you spit in negative temperatures it will freeze before it hits the ground”.

Its not Myth Busters, its not Bill Nye the Science Guy, and its not Mr. Wizard.  But “Beyond Fifty Below” makes it worth heading outside to play as the temperatures get colder and colder.  Check out my episodes below, stay tuned for more episodes (if it gets cold enough).

The Pilot

Episode 2.0

Episode 3.0

Weekend Favorites

As nearly everyone has heard several medium to large solar storms occurred in the last week.  The first occurring over Wednesday/Thursday peaked the Aurora Borealis activity Friday/Saturday/Sunday.  Then another large coronal mass ejection happened Sunday, elevating activity even more Monday/Tuesday.  The skies appeared quiet last night.  Thought clouds moved in around Tuesday and have remained, obscuring the skies.

These are a few of my favorites from the long weekend performances. 

"Midnight School Lights"

"God's Christmas Lights"

"Showering Light"

"Glowing Black Spruce"

"Arctic Nights"

Keep your eye out for my work.  I've submitted photos to National Geographic, Anchorage Daily News, and Spaceweather. 

Arctic Midnight & The Morning After

After only four hours of sleep I awoke to a dog nose punching me in the shoulder.  I rolled slightly and felt a wet tongue licking my ear.  “Good morning to you to, Jack”. He didn’t seem to mind I was awake until 4am photographing the Aurora Borealis.  Because while I was outside working through the night, he was sound asleep, keeping my place in bed warm. 

I stumbled out of bed, walked to the window and wondered, did I really see all that color last night?  I was still trying to grapple for memories from the evening past.  Floating in a cloud of green.  Recollecting the ways the sky shifted and changed, from one pattern to the next.  I peeked outside the window.  Half expecting to see singed and smoldering metallic shrapnel lying on the ground.  I understand the science of the Aurora- but it still amazes me.  As if fireworks are exploding overhead, yet it all dissipates before reaching my camera- the only thing left is light, spectacular light.

The Geo-Physical Institute called Saturday night, EXTREME, giving it a 5 of 9 on the forecast scale.  As Scott Brucker joked, if this was extreme, an 8 must be DEATH according to their scale.   I’m amazed how each experience can be truly unique.  The Aurora is never boring, and tonight was just another example of that.  It totally changed location from the previous evenings.  Mostly filling the south eastern sky, then shooting directly over head, and turning to haze before even nearing the north western corner of the sky.  The show began a little later then usual, around 11pm I started peeking outside.  Not until after midnight did I don all my gear and head out.  The performance lasted beyond 3:30am.  I came inside only because I had two completely dead camera batteries.   

 

Once again, the photographs speak for themselves.  I made one real difference which I feel improved everything drastically.  I found switches for the new school, old school, and maintenance garage exterior lights- and shut them all off.  Not only did my eyes adjust quicker, but lights appear a little more vivid, and the ground cover is not washed out with yucky florescent light.

Rather then share a series of photos, I have compiled all the time lapse from the weekend into a short two minute movie.  The music is composed and performed by Quinn Mason, a student/family friend from Dallas, Texas.  Enjoy!

Last Night

Wednesday and Thursday a couple solar events occurred on the Sun.  The remnants of this event reached Earth this weekend.  Friday night was a 4 of 10 on the UAF Geo-Physical Institutes forecast.  Saturday night, tonight, will be a 5.

This is a preview of several segments of time lapse I've captured and begun working on.  I hope to compile a variety of aurora encounters into a mini-movie.  Here is about 30 minutes turned into 26 seconds of video.

Last night is near the top of the list for best sightings in my life.  The show began quietly around 11:30pm.  A few clouds were obscuring the view to the north, as seen in the video.  Over the course of the evening the clouds cleared, and the aurora grew and grew.  It shifted position slightly traversing the north western sky.  The conclusion of the show was nearly the entire sky illuminated in green.  

Then, around 3:30am, as quietly as it began, it started to fade.  My knees were sore from kneeling behind the tripod, my batteries nearly depleted, and my fingers getting chillier and chiller- it was time to head in. I found photographing the sky in 0F much more comfortable then -55F encountered the weekend before.

So, what's next?  I have two goals for tonight.  Shut off all the exterior lights on the school.  It is the largest building in the village with massive florescent flood lights.  I think a lot of the amber glows and odd looking illumination around the ground cover is from the school lights.  Then, I'm going to use a snow machine and create some trails up river from my house.  This will provide new vantage points overlooking a twinkling village and vast Arctic.

Encore

Tonights encore presentation of the aurora borealis was different then last.  There was no moon, which effected the lighting conditions greatly.  I also tried to take more controlled experiments with the camera. Last night I was just all over the place, changing settings, moving the tripod- totally over reacting in the excitement.  Tonight I was more precise about making incremental adjustments, in the long run that will be easier to learn from.

One big change tonight was shooting with "Long Exposure Noise Reduction" turned "ON".  This basically caused twice as long shutter speeds.  Once the timed shutter was complete, it required double the time to process.  The biggest difference I see from this is a lot more stars standing out.  The actual aurora doesn't seem any more or less vivid.  

My next step will be working harder to gaining critical focus.  I'm basically manually focused on infiniti. I read an interesting resource that recommended getting auto focus in the day time, then use athletic tape to secure the focus ring before putting it on manual.  Then set the lens aside and be careful not to bump it.  Since there was no moon, that would have been an ideal way to do it.  I tried to use the "Live View" feature of the D700, but the screen was just pitch dark and unhelpful.

At the peak of the storm my battery died.  Luckily I had the spare in my parka, but in those precious minutes the aurora peaked and dropped really low towards the river, as briefly seen in the photograph above.

I played a little with the ultra high ISO settings (Nikon H1.0 and H2.0), but I don't like how those images turned out.  I even tried playing with lower shutter speeds at those ISO's.  Right now I'm happiest with the ISO around 1600 and the shutter speed around 10" - 15" seconds.

I also learned to be a lot more careful with the tripod.  I accidentally bent one of the adjustment riser handles trying to force it.  The longer I stay in the cold the more brittle the metal, and harder it is to adjust the tripod.  Tonight it was around -53F.  I found rather then just using the handles, to carefully grab the entire camera and slowly make small adjustments, there is no smooth transition once the materials get that cold.  Even my parka fabric sounds different.

Friday Night Lights

What a night.  I finally got to photograph the Aurora Borealis with my new Nikon D700.  Just around 11:30pm I peeked outside to find some decent activity.  The UAF Geophysical Institute forecast gave tonight a 3 out of 10.

These photos were taken with a Nikon D700 and Nikkor 17-35mm f/2.8 wide angle lens.

Typically I had the camera set on manual priority and the aperture wide open.  Since it was my first time using this camera I did a lot of experimenting with shutter speeds and ISO settings.  I still have a lot to learn.  After about 50 minutes both my batteries died.  Despite rotating them through my warm parka, they quit on me.  My Nikon MC36 wired remote stopped working after about 30 minutes.  So I had to switch to timer delay at two seconds.  The air temperature was about -44F.  

Most of these shots are looking north by north-west from Arctic Village, across the Chandalar River.  The moon shots are looking east.

I was amazed how this camera captured the light, especially compared to my old D80.  I used to crank all the settings way up just to capture anything, that was partially my lenses, and partially the camera.  I'm still playing with some settings on the D700.  I feel like all the photos have a pretty visible vignette.  I might either need to turn the vignette control on high, or maybe play with my aperture, though in the dark I don't know what luck I'll have.

The moon coming up was just priceless.  I had ample time to play with no moonlight first, then as it creeped up, the northern lights dimmed a bit.  I snatched a few moon solo shots, then almost as if they rehearsed it together the moon and aurora started talking to one another, it was awesome.  As I'm still learning how to use this camera in the dark, I took a lot of wasted shots, and at times had to turn on my headlamp to make adjustments, ruining my night vision.

These two are my favorite.

Belize: Beaches & Cayes

Christmas vacation in Belize, it sure sounded like a good escape from the -50F temperatures home in Alaska.  When we were looking for places to travel over the holidays, Belize made the short list of warm tropical locales.  I think what drew me to Belize was a couple things: excellent SCUBA, close proximity to exotic jungles with Mayan ruins, a culturally diverse people, and less developed then most places in the Caribbean as far as tourism goes.  Belize is actually in Central America, while still having "one foot planted in the Caribbean”.  In fact Belize is the only English speaking country in Central & Southern America.  Its located just south of the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico, east of Guatemala, and north of Honduras.  Belize used to be called British Honduras, before gaining independence from the United Kingdom in 1981.  

After four flights, one taxi, and one water taxi- we finally made it to San Pedro, Ambergris Caye.  

The air temperature was low 80’s during the day, and mid 70’s at night.  There was an almost constant gentle breeze coming off the sea that picked up in the afternoon.   This kept the mosquitos and other bugs away most of the time.  Nicknamed “the mosquito coast” apparently the month of July & August can be brutal.  The locals described Belize as having two seasons.  Hurricane season and not hurricane season.  The weather is fairly constant.  Fall time brings a few more rain showers.  This time of year it usually sprinkles just a little rain late in the evening or early in the morning before sunrise, otherwise it was clear and dry.

Our primary purpose for coming here was to SCUBA dive.  We arranged all our dives months in advance with the Ecological Divers, in San Pedro.  These guys are a first class outfit, and I would highly recommend them to anyone.  We found diving prices in Belize to be cheaper then other places in the Caribbean.  Two tanks was $70.

Belize is known for a couple things.  First and foremost is the Blue Hole.  Made famous by Jacques Coustou in 1971 when he first rediscovered this geologic anomoly and dove into its depths.  The blue hole drops over 400 feet deep.  Thousands of years ago, when the oceans were lower, the Blue Hole was a cave complex.  After the ice age the oceans raised, and its caves were under the ocean.  A sink hole occured and the ocean floor dropped out in an almost perfect circle.  Diving down to depths of 120-150 feet reveal massive stalactites, proof it was a cave, and proof the oceans were lower at one time.  Stalactites are formed by one thing, water dripping from the ceiling of a cave. We dove to 140 feet, this was the deepest I had ever been.  

The water turned about 3-4 degrees colder after passing through the thermocline around 40 feet.  We dropped over the lip of the hole and plunged into an abyss.  Below the water became darker and darker.  The group after us saw Hammerhead Sharks orbiting the hole in the distance.  After a few minutes at 140 feet I became very loopy.  I had never experienced nitrogen narcosis like this before.  It was a very “high" feeling.  My face felt tingly.  I imagined myself looking back at myself, eyeballs reflecting off mask at myself like a mirror.  I tried to focus and get my mind under control.  Were I not so scared, I would probably have started humming the Phish song “Bouncing Around The Room”.

I watched as Gretchen, our dive master, and a couple other divers in our party swam slalom around the stalactites.  I slowly followed behind, very timid by the way I was feeling.  I got Gretchen’s attention and told her I wanted to swim up about 10 feet, giving her the sign for my head is buzzing.  When you dive that deep you can’t dive very long.  A tank with 3500 psi will last at least 50 minutes in 40 feet of water, maybe longer if you breathe conservatively.  At 140 feet we could only stay for 8-10 minutes.  It takes a lot longer to decompress safely returning from those depths.  We had planned for at least 15 minutes coming back to shallower depths, then a 5 minute safety stop at 15 feet.  This may be a bit more conservative then dive charts recommend, but sport diving charters always stray on the safe side.  

Belize is home to the second largest barrier reef in the world.  It is succeeded only by the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.  Here we found the quantity of sea life, and quality of the reef, to be superior to anywhere else we've dove.  Whether it was close dive sites minutes away by boat, or the three hour ride to Turneffe and Lighthouse Reef Atoll, they were awesome.  From nearly everywhere on the shore the barrier reef is visible on Ambergris Caye.  About 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile off shore, it runs the entire length of the island and beyond.  At various points they have created cuts through the reef for boats to get out.  Most of the popular dive sites are on the sea side of the reef.  Due to the off shore reef the water is very calm along the beaches.  Off shore, waves can be seen crashing on the shallow reef.  

We were both curious about how Christmas would feel in Belize.  Leaving behind snow, sweaters and egg nog- I was glad to be reminded of the reason for the season.  We worshipped Christmas Eve in a Catholic Church in San Pedro.  The 10pm mass featured a childrens Christmas Pagent.  The service was half in Spanish and half in English.  Our favorite part was the music.  The hymns played on a synthesizer to salsa tunes.  All the children seemed to be dressed as wise men and shepherds.  The baby Jesus was carried in a procession with wise men bringing fruit, plants, and a baby chicken in a cage. 

San Pedro is the largest of offshore beach communities.  It is a one hour boat ride from Belize City.  I should preface that by saying there are no high rise condos or massive resort complexes.  It is the biggest in Belize, but very small and modest compared to other beach hotspots in the United States and Caribbean.  Cruise ships occasionally visit Belize, but only briefly stop at a shopping village outside Belize City, they do not visit the Cayes.  I rarely find a place that makes me want to keep coming back, but Belize is it.  Not that I don’t enjoy every place I visit, but my restless spirit brings wonder about so many other countries.  I would return to Belize time and time again.  Not necessarily going to the same place, but exploring the variety of places it offers.  In Belize I felt safe.  The people were some of the friendliest in the world.

One of the most popular events in San Pedro is the weekly “Chicken Drop’. At a bar called Wahoos, people purchase lottery tickets for which number they think the chicken will shit on.

Its really quite stupid, but was fun to photograph.

Guessing the right number, could win you as much as $100 BZE.










San Pedro was teeming with quality restaurants and cheap bars.  The exchange rate is two BZE dollars for one USA dollar.  You can get a beer for $2-3 BZE.  A really nice dinner might cost you $40 BZE per person.  Its a great place for budget travelers to bum around, and vacationers to get the most for their money.

We statyed at the Ak’bol Yoga Resort.  I highly recommend checking this place out if you’re headed to Belize.  Owned by an American couple from Chicago, it is very well kept and very well run.  The resort is essentially divided by the main thorough fare a mile north of town.  On the sea side are 4-5 cottages, 2 yoga studios, and the beach bar/bistro.  On the marsh side is the 20+ room yoga barracks.  The yoga barracks has private rooms with a shared bath.  The rooms are very simple, yet elegant.

Each day yoga classes are conducted at the studio built into the end of the pier.  Some people come just for the yoga.  We enjoyed the peace and quite of this mature resort that attracted fun intellectual people.  Each morning before diving, or afternoon upon return- we sat at the bar, drinking a Belikin Beer, and socializing with visitors.

The owners pup, retired, but enjoying the company during a yoga session in the background