Jill Homer - Arctic Glass: Six Years of Adventure Stories from Alaska and Beyond

Six Years of Adventure In Alaska and Beyond

By Jill Homer

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2005-2012 Jill Homer

Published by: Arctic Glass Press

This anthology chronicles the adventures of anunlikely athlete who takes on harsh challenges in the frozenwilderness of Alaska, the Utah desert, and the Himalayas of Nepal.Endurance racing, cycling, travel, trail running, andself-actualization amid stunning outdoor landscapes are commonthemes in these compelling vignettes about "The Adventure ofLife."

Other books by Jill Homer:

Ghost Trails: Journeys Through aLifetime

Jill Homers first memoir, exploring a series of lifeadventures that helped her grow from a timid Mormon girl from thesuburbs of Salt Lake City into a contender in a 350-mile wildernessbicycle race across frozen Alaska.

Be Brave, Be Strong: A Journey Across the GreatDivide

This is the true story of Jill Homers challenge ofthe worlds toughest mountain bike race,

a 2,740-mile journey from Canada to Mexico along therugged spine of the Continental Divide.

Visit arcticglasspress.net.

Introduction

It was two days after Halloween 2005. The timingstands out thanks to a macabre memory of a jack-o-lantern frozen onmy neighbors porch. Temperatures had thawed just long enough tomelt the pumpkins grin into a pained grimace, and then the icereturned to encase its zombie face in frost. I was riding mymountain bike from my new job at a weekly newspaper in Homer,Alaska, to a ridge high above town, where I lived in a largesingle-room cabin. The streets were already packed with snow inearly November, and likely to stay that way until spring. I figuredit would likely be my last bike commute of the season, and Iremember experiencing a moment of panic, looking into the holloweyes of that ghoulish jack-o-lantern and wondering what wintermight bring. I had been living in Homer for two months, and thestrangeness of everyday life in that small fishing village wasbeginning to take hold.

At the cabin, I climbed to the loft to write anupdate for friends and family. Since I moved thousands of milesaway, I made a point of staying in touch via e-mail. The lettersusually contained quirky stories about my Alaskan neighbors andco-workers, as well as accounts of stormy kayaking trips or thetime a bear stomped all over our car as my then-boyfriend and Iwere backpacking to a snowbound wilderness cabin. In thisparticular letter, I mused about ways I could continue riding mybicycle through the long winter. To illustrate what I was dealingwith, I attached a photograph of the cabin, blanketed in more thana foot of snow, with a backyard surrounded by nothing but spruceforest and the distant white peaks of the Kenai Mountains. Severalfriends wrote back to comment on the incredible setting, andrequested more photos. I found I enjoyed writing these letters, andmy friends comments sparked an idea that many people have whenthey want to reach out to the world at large I should starta blog.

The next day, Up in Alaska went live. I styled theblog after a song by Modest Mouse, Grey Ice Water. The lyricstell the story of a lonely person who got a job up in Alaska toescape a bad relationship. My reasons for moving to the forty-ninthstate were different I wanted to pursue a relationship witha man who had been my on-again, off-again boyfriend for four years,Geoff. Both of us were stuck in something of a quarter-life crisis,wondering if we were indeed pursuing our ideal adulthood. Moving toAlaska was initially my idea, although Geoff was the one wholatched on to the plan and kept the spark burning when I stated tolose my nerve. Eventually we relocated from Utah and Idaho Falls tothe tip of the Kenai Peninsula, with only a job offer and a GeoPrism loaded with belongings. The sentiments of Grey Ice Waterwere similar to mine new start in a strange place. The songends with quiet repetitions of the line, On the Arctic blast. Ialways heard the words Arctic glass, and imagined islands of blueice floating in a colorless sea. Even after I learned the correctlyrics, Arctic glass stuck out as the image I see in my mind whenI think of Alaska. So I assigned the address of my Alaska-basedlifestyle blog to arcticglass.blogspot.com. Isubtitled it Jills subarctic journal about ice, bears, anddistant dreams of the midnight sun.

Unlike most blogs that loosely follow their statedpurpose until the writer eventually loses interest, Up in Alaskaquickly took on a life of its own, growing into something far moreextensive than I intended. Simple musings for my friends and familycaptured the attention of readers from around the world, whoencouraged me in my half-serious ambitions to pursue wintercycling. What followed is a transformation that even I wouldnthave predicted the day my blog went live, when I was still atwenty-five-year-old newspaper editor whose timidity oftenprevented me from embarking on relatively benign adventures. Icouldnt have foreseen a growing passion for the outdoors andendurance challenges, or comprehended becoming an athlete whocompleted a twenty-seven-hundred-mile mountain bike race andcrossed three hundred and fifty miles of Alaskas frozen wildernessunder my own power. Along the way, I also developed a passion forwriting and photography that continues to drive my pursuit ofadventure. Without the introspection my blog facilitated and thecommunity it exposed me to, I believe my life would have taken adecidedly different track. Arctic Glass was the reflection I neededto develop into the best version of myself.

This book is an anthology of thirty-three adventurestories and essays spanning more than six years and places rangingfrom the frozen Alaska wilderness to the Himalayas of Nepal.Endurance racing, bicycle touring, love of mountains, difficultlife decisions, overwhelming challenges, and self-actualizationamid stunning outdoor landscapes are the common themes in thiscompilation. It chronicles the best of Arctic Glass, and in doingso captures vignettes of the adventure of life.

November 3, 2005

So this is my new journal about life in Homer, Alaska a place where it snows in October, where moose traipse through mybackyard, and where everyone can spell my last name but if youcant spell Xtratuf, well, so help you God.*

This is kind of the obligatory first entry where Ihave to explain to people who Ive really lost touch with that Ilive in Alaska. I lived for a while in Idaho Falls, Idaho home ofpotatoes and the self-proclaimed northern Mormons, and life wasgood. But after a brutal hot summer and several months of distantcoercion from Geoff, I somehow was talked into moving to Alaska,home of grizzly bears and the self-proclaimed northernLibertarians. And lifes still good. I guess its possible to behappy anywhere ... just as long as those studded mountain biketires and stack of DVDs arrive before winter.

So, now a little about what weve been doing for thepast couple of months. We arrived in town September 11, and by thenext day found a cabin loft on the ridge above town. We have twoacres of spruce trees and fireweed, an early season snow base, andour closest neighbor is a horse. Weve spent the past few weeksfilling the place with secondhand stuff and furniture Geoff buildswith lumber he scavenges at the dump. He found a job workingconstruction with some quintessential Alaskans theXtratuf-wearing kind. I work at a small-town newspaper called theHomer Tribune, where Im the arts and entertainment reporter,production editor, and somehow the Webmaster (which is reallyfunny, because I have such an incurable case of attention deficitdisorder when it comes to technology.)