Alaska 2023

Our goal was to see Alaska. We saw Alaska, and are glad we did. We have posted lots of pictures recently, some of which I will include in this blog, but I wanted to give friends a better report on our trip to Alaska last week. We are still getting over the constant motion on trains planes and buses, feeling the solid ground underfoot is strange. We began planning months ago, and discovered that the Alaska Railway put together packages that included many beautiful places and interesting stops. We even watched a video of some of the train travel by independent videographers, and it was very appealing. We wanted to get a good taste, an overview, of Alaska. We did not want anything to do with large tour groups, or cruise ships. We knew everything would be expensive in Alaska, and decided it was worth it. I don't know how to do Alaska on the cheap. Alaska Rail offered several options. We chose what they call the Gold Star Option, which means most of the rail travel was essentially first class in domed cars, some meals and drinks, hotels and specific tours were included. Our trip was June 21 to 28, beginning and ending in Anchorage, a town we wanted to see because it had been home to our old friends. We flew in one day early and stayed at a less expensive hotel, a decision that saved about $300, and used that extra day to explore Anchorage, an interesting town in a beautiful setting. Highlight: the Anchorage Museum, with a world class exhibit of native Alaskan cultures and more, only two blocks from our hotel. Lowlight: The Anchorage Hilton did not have shuttle from the airport ($25) or to the train station. Our room was not ready when we arrived, or when we came back later as instructed. The desk clerk sent us to the wrong room, without luggage which they temporarily lost when we checked it, meaning we were grumpy and tired on our first night. (The good news, cheerful and helpful bellmen saved the day. Big tips.) Note: Our first day in Alaska was Solstice, the longest day of the year, which means we had almost 20 hours of daylight every day.

Day Two: we took a cab to the train station and Alaska Rail made us feel better. They had tickets ready, clear instructions, and checked our bags through to the hotel we would stay in that night. The trip was a short one to Girdwood but we saw eagles, moose and bear and mountains and rivers along the way. At the Girdwood stop, we were picked up by a knowledgable and cheerful guide for a visit to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center at the top of Turnagin Arm. She walked us through the center, explaining the animals and why they were there (rehab or re-establishment). They included wolves, musk ox, bison, moose, reindeer, wolves, fox, coyote and both black and brown (grizzly) bears. We had plenty of time before being led back to the train stop for lunch which was waiting for us. Then she handed us over to our next guide, Jack, who would be our river guide and host for the next several hours. We put on waterproof boots and reboarded the train for a short ride to a drop off for us, the rubber rafts and guides. We were at the Spencer Glacier where we began an afternoon of river rafting and stunning scenery.

The train pulled up alongside the river when we gout out of the boats just long enough to pick us all up and head back down the tracks to Girdwood, and the Alyeska Resort, a first class hotel that serves the areas' only ski resort. We had no time to look around. After a very long day we had a quick meal and got up early to catch a shuttle back to the train stop. While standing by the tracks a railroad employee showed up, took charge of all our luggage and checked it through to our next htoel -- in Seward at the end of the line. All along the route there was wildlife, stunning scenery and mountains and rivers everywhere.

We arrived in Seward just in time to walk one block to the marina and the beginning of a six hour offshore boat tour of Kenai Fjords National Park. The captain was clearly an expert naturalist as well as captain, and she talked about the wildlife, the geology, and the park as we rode out into the Gulf of Alaska to look for whales. She found Orcas and we watched for a while, and then went further out to see even bigger whales. The weather was cold and rainy, but we were inside most of the time except when we chose to go out for picture taking. They served lunch while under way, and we looked up and found we were at the face of a stunning glacier, the kind that drops directly into the sea. It was amazing how close we were and the mass of ice before us.

On the way back we came in close to landforms rising from the seabed, covered with thousands of birds including Puffins and all sort of sea birds. It was almosy 7 p.m. by the time we reached the Seward Windsong Lodge, a beautiful place nestled in the woods just on the edge of town. By this time we were pretty worn out and decided to take a break from the scheduled tour of Seward the next day. We slept in, checked our bags through to Anchorage, and spent the free day wandering around the town, the waterfront, and learning history in the local museum/library. The trip back over to Anchorage was again in a domed car, with meals and drinks and scenery and animals all along the way. We ended up back at the Hilton for the night, unfortunately. The air conditioner would not work so we had to leave the window open. Turns out Anchorage downtown on Saturday night never quiets down even when you are 11 stories up. Sunday we were back up at the crack of dawn, and on the train heading for Denali National Park in our first class train. We rode through Wasilla, but Sarah was not home and we did not see Russia from her porch. The then on through Talkeetna and hurricane gulch and the Chugach Mountains. A lot of our arrivals were "late" by normal standards, but the sun rarely went down in Alaska during our trip before midnight and we got used to constant day. It made for long days. The Grande Denali Lodge is located on Sugarloaf Mountain just outside the national park border. It was peak season for the park, and tours run anytime there is daylight. Ours began at 6:45 a.m. and took us about 40 miles inside the park, a shortened tour because of winter road damage. The ride into the park was as spectacular as you would expect, with eveyone wondering if we would get to see the big mountain. 70% of the time it is hidden behind clouds and that had been the case for some time.

When we got to the end of our road we actually could see portions of the mountain side white in the distance, with clouds hiding the peaks. The tour guide suggested "photoshopping" our pictures if we chose by snapping a picture of a post card from a clear day. A local tribal member met us in the park for a talk about the native cultures, and we visited one of the pioneer cabins along the way once used by railroad builders and hunters. On Tuesday we had the morning to check out the park Visitor Center and get back on the train for our last trip to Anchorage. The lodge took care of our bags and checked them through for us. One more grand train excursion through the wild country and we were back in the Hilton for our last night. They could not find the reservation for a while, which was about what I had come to expect. On Wednesday we got a cab to the airport, where the efficiency of Alaska Airlines was a welcome contrast to the confusion of the Hilton. One night spent at the San Francisco Airport, and we had an easy drive home.

Observations: Alaska Airlines was a pleasure to deal with. They have gone iPhone crazy (check in online) but it works, the staff was helpful and even the airport food was decent. We would use them again. America Rail Tours that put together the package, travel, small tours, hotels, was well cordinated and planned. We would use them again. The best hotel, probably, was the Alyeska Lodge, where we barely had time to sleep. Apparently a room for the night costs about $600. The worst hotel was the Hilton. No shuttles. Poorly trained desk clerks, who made mistakes that costs us time. No shuttle service, which costs even more money. Our favorite hotel was the Seward Windsong Lodge. Quiet, Nestled in the spruce trees and cheerful and helpful staff. Alaska Railway is a gem, an example of how a passenger railroad could be run if American cared less about cars. Food wasn't terrific, but certainly adequate. The staff was always ready to help, explain, answer or even entertain. Charming young people from all over the world. The ability to get up and move around, visit with your neighbors, and take pictures or just watch for wildlife, made it great. We met a lot of interesting people. Hard to compare the different tours since some were on river rafts, some on the ocean and some in small buses. All were good. All worthwhile. We learned something everytime. We crammed a lot into seven/eight days and perhaps should have done a bit less. But then a dinner companion said he and his wife were setting out to see every national park in Alaska, a trip that would take at least two weeks, and one of the bids from a tour company had been about$30,000. He found a better way. So did we. Our goal was to see Alaska. We saw Alaska and are glad we did. More pictures. On the river at Spencer Glacier.

2022

The year 2022 seemed to just flow by for the LaMont family. Looking back we did a lot of what we wanted to do: spend time with family, travel, play music, eat well, serve others and stay healthy.

And there were a few things we'd prefer to avoid: frequent doctor appointments and a continuation of Covid in our community. That's the price you pay for living. Pat celebrated her 80th birthday and I somehow made it to 82. We still think we are around 30, still good looking (Pat)but just a bit slower (me). The good news is that we did not have to give up anything, just made the minor adjustments that come with aging. Here's a look back at our year: Our routine usually includes dinner with the next-door-neighbors and close friends Gary and Jeri. They are theoretically retired, but both work a few days a week, and volunteer even more. They are people with good hearts, and who act on the needs they see around them. We met a decade ago, probably through volunteer work at Habitat for Humanity or church, and have been close ever since.

We host music jams at our house on Tuesday nights with George Haskell(banjo/guitar), John Randlett (guitar), Kylee Harrison(guitar) and Beth Gaisford(guitar/mandolin), and me(mandolin/guitar). We play and sing for fun, but once in a while play at church or the local farmer's market. I participate in a weekly poker game on Thursday afternoons, a tradition that started with my late friend Ken Grassmyer almost 20 years ago. I refer to the players as my "fellowship group" because most of us attended church together. As the years pass, the players change but the $20 buy-in remains the same. We are mostly veterans and retirees and enjoy the talk, laughing and winning. And all are good losers. We have a weekly dinner gathering with five friends (George and Patty Haskell, Joe and Teddi Jackson and John Randlett). Sometimes we eat out, particularly a local Mexican place with outdoor dining (safe during Covid), or at each other's homes. Pat does whatever needs to be done all year for her Parish Care group, often filling her week with helping other people. Parish Care is a team from our First Congregational Church that includes four or so women who take care of people. It may invove a ride to the doctor, delivering meals or just a friendly conversation on the phone. If people need something, they find a way to respond. Her weekly routine includes helping a handicapped neighbor who needs transportation or prescription pickups. One of the disadvantages of our otherwise wonderful town is we have no drug store, no viable public transportation, and limited medical care so that creates a lot of needs. A drug store run involves a round trip of about 20 miles. A trip to pick up someone at the hospital requires about 30 miles.

We try to spend Sundays at church at the First Congregational United Church of Christ, the longest-named church we have ever belonged to, with a small and older congregation that is at the heart of our community. It is the only progressive church in our community of Murphys, a gold rush town turned touristy, which tends toward no-church folks or conservative congregations. We have a few LBGTA+ members, and a lot of mainstream types. In a normal year, which 2022 was not, I would be singing in the choir. This year no choir, and we all wore masks for most of the year due to several friends who are immuno-compromised. That's the routine stuff. This year we got back to travel, starting in early Spring with a long trip in our 2002 VW Camper. We drove an inland route to Spokane, which took us by our old neighbors' home in Idaho. Alan and Ann Christie, and daughter, treated us like -- well, old friends. We camped along the way at a RV resort with a hot spring, breaking up the long journey through the beautiful farmlands of Oregon and Washington. Zack showed us the sites in Spokane, along with several very good places to eat. We met some of his friends and got a feel for his new home.

We headed homeward with no particular path in mind, except I wanted to actually see the historic Columbia River. We hit the river and turned west on the south shore, following the Lewis and Clark route, and camped along the river. We got to see the grand dams Woody Gurthrie wrote songs about ("Roll On Columbia") and scooted past Portland and ended up on the Pacific Ocean camped out along the beach at Cape Lookout. We were working our way South along the coast when our old sailing buddies Michael and Sylvia sent us a text inviting us to come by and see them in their new floating home at Scapoose, Oregon. They have always been, and remain, water people. The home sits atop floating redwood logs on a backwater of the Columbia. he teaches online and he writes and they have added a dog named Biscuit to the family. We went back to the coastal route to Cape Blanco. Those great Oregon parks were detailed in an earlier blog, but in the Spring without crowds it was a wonderful place to be. Summer brought trips to the mountains and the north coast with family and friends, getting as much use out of our VW van as we can.

Late summer brought more camping trips, with friends and family.

Fall brought a trip to Santa Cruz for a wonderful relaxed week watching the surf and surfers, cathing the slightly weird vibe at a beach happening where people played body harps, and eating very well. That whole section of beach towns, including Capitola, has become a favorite for us.

Christmas at home was low key, and we spent a day at Ruth and Brian's home just two miles away and celebrated with grandson Connor, pictured with Ruth in Christmas attire, and granddaughter Delaney and husband Cooper who came west from Boston where he is in medical school and she is working on her PHD in bioengineering. Our final plan for 2022 is a multi-generational New Years Eve celebration at our church, welcome the New Year at 9 p.m., and tuck in to get ready for a wonderful 2023. Have a great year.

Great editors remembered

Fifty years ago I was enjoying myself immensely. And a bit nervous. I had accepted a new job, and a completely different role, moving from being newspaper chain's writing bureau chief to an editor at a newspaper. After more than ten years of reporting and writing stories and loving it, I was taking the chance that being an editor -- stuck inside the building instead of pounding the streets -- would hold personal and professional satisfaction. It worked out well. I was asked to move from Tallahassee, Florida, where I was the bureau chief for the six Gannett newspapers in the state, to the Southwest Florida community of Fort Myers and it's daily newspaper the News-Press. My job description was initially vague -- I was a "senior editor" despite being 32 years old-- which corporate Gannett's way of saying I might end up in charge if I didn't fail.

My boss was the Managing Editor Bob Bentley, (pictured above with daughter Reid) in charge of the news operations and sent in by corporate to build the paper into something great. I had worked for Bob at TODAY, where he was in charge of the newspaper's coverage in the late 1960s. When I asked him about the Fort Myers publisher, a conservative holdover near 70 from the old ownership whose claim to fame was that he was commodore of the local yacht club, Bentley said "Ignore him. We can do what we need to do." And we did. Bentley had corporate's blessings and money to increase the staff, be more aggressive in coverage, and look for exceptional talents among young journalists coming out of colleges or wherever he could find them. He already had significant success at Florida's TODAY newspaper earlier, leading the staff through the Apollo moon landing years, and building that paper into a significant force in Florida.

He was 33, a star in Florida journalism. The first person Bob introduced me to was Joe Workman, then city editor, and the very best of a local staff that had struggled for several years. He was, a Bentley said, a great city editor who simply needed editors who did not get in his way and reporters willing to learn. He fit into the "Lou Grant" model: tough, smart, skilled, hard drinking and he knew where all the bodies were buried. He was a West Virginia native, who relished in pretending he was just a poor country boy. Years later he made a post-retirement fortune in Florida beach real estate, outsmarting lots of city slickers. Bentley and Workman each decided that sharing what they knew about newspapering, was the most important thing they could do. The dividends came to me. Joe taught me how to deal with all kinds of people, from irritating car dealers to crooked politicians. Bentley taught me how to spot and develop talent in young people, hiring only the best from good schools and smaller newspapers, selling them on the idea that living on the beach and working for a good newspaper in Florida was worth accepting the low wages we could offer. He also encouraged people to move outward and upoward when their chances came along. Bentley's particular skills were as an editor who controlled the design and stucture of the paper, skills he learned earlier at The Miami Herlad and TODAY. He was always open to good ideas, even if crazy, and knew how to put the right people in the right spot. When there were failures, and some happened, he knew how to cut his losses. He once convinced the advertising department to take a news photographer (who had zero news photo sense) into the ad staff where he was happy for years. He was also willing to tell people who struggled unsuccesfully that they would be happier elsewhere, and they usually were. He rarely fired anyone, usually just pointed them in a better diretion and they left.

He could spot talent. He always claimed that he spotted the talent of Randy Wayne White, pictured above with Joe and me at a reunion, while Randy was working climbing power poles -- a kid from the mid-west who could not find a job. Randy has since written more than 60 novels. Working at the News-Press was a crazy experience in many ways. Many of us worked very long hours, from 9 a.m. to midnight. Once the presses started rolling we would adjourn together to our favorite local bar Pate's for a few drinks and food. Once he warmed up Bentley would take over the piano and start leading the singing: "Delta Dawn" was a favorite. Workman would tell West Virginia stories, tall tales we never knew if trhey were true. It was true he had one glass eye, which he occasionally would put on the bar to provoke a reactio. Other nights he would bet some younger staffer he would eat a light bulb, which they could not believe until they witnessed it and paid Joe. Sometimes as many as a dozen people would close the bar at 2 a.m. and move elsewhere to drink till dawn. We all worked very hard. The paper got better every year, began winning awards and gaining circulation and profits. Despite the differences between the staff's generation and that of the local population -- even then mostly elderly retirees from the Mid-West -- we were honest and fearless, and it succeeded with readers. Old-time elected officials, who once had there way in the community, were being watched closely and their activities exposed, which they did not like. A county commission chairman scolded a News-Press reporter during a meeting because he thought her skirt was too short. Bentley called him up and scolded him for abusing his power. A note about the culture of the early 70s, and Fort Myers in particular. Most of the staff was under 30, single and socially -- what should I say -- unrestrained. With the college hires came some drugs, most of which I knew nothing about, but pot smoking was known to happen and a few of the younger staffers ended up living together. Bentley was divorced by that time and the local ladies responded to his movie star good looks. He delighted in living in a "singles apartment complex" where naked swim parties we known to happen. I was something of an exception-- though not the only one -- being happily married and with two young children at home. I simply could not keep up the pace of late-night drinking. Our mutual friend at corporate, who had been instrumental in both Bob and I coming to the News-Press, once suggested subtly that I was right for the job because I was more normal, less "colorful" than Bob.

Regardless of our differences, we shared a love for the work and particularly the people. As always happens, things changed over a few years. Bentley was promoted and moved to run the ElPaso paper in Texas, and a few staffers followed him there. (A local car dealer called me the day after Bob left to tell me his much-younger wife had left for Texas with Bob and when he caught up with them he was going to shoot Bob. The wife came home, and the guy never shot anyone.) Bob moved from Texas to Atlanta to California and back to his native South Carolina, happily married before cancer caught up with him. He lived his life with passion and was an honest journalist. Joe Workman stayed on at the News-Press, never quite fitting in with the corporate style of Gannett, but becoming a polular local columnist, living out his life in his beloved Fort Myers Beach with his beloved wife Grace, daughter of an Episcopal priest. We remained friends for 40 years. Before my time in Fort Myers came toward the end, I was promoted to be the editor, replacing Bob. The old publisher retired and a new corporate-appointed publisher came to town. He was a classic Gannett publisher from that era, driven by ambition, a desire to always look good to corporate, and in his case -- dishonest. We immediately came into conflict when he continually tried to influence the newsroom staff to be "more business friendly." I ended up leaving within about a year, taking a graceful exit to a Humanities Fellowship at Michigan with John Quinn's support, in 1977. (I left Gannett in 1980, moving to The Bee in California.) But the years in Fort Myers and the people there were among the best and the brightest I have ever worked with, and together we did good work. We sent reporter/photographer teams to big rock festivals in New Orleans, another team to Central America to cover an earthquake, people to the Olympics and always sent people to the nation political conventions. No one ever told us we could not do that, and readers loved it. I learned a lot of about how to be an editor from both Bentley and Workman, and have always felt they are among the very best journalists I have encountered in 45 working years. Newspapers have changed so much in the past 20 years, it is hard to imagine such transformative journalism happening again. But I remind myself that a few dedicated people brought together by common ideals, can make change for the better. Bob and Joe did that for me, and I am forever grateful.