I join Captain George Vancouver and many others in returning from Alaska without having found the northwest passage. I guess we have to settle for flying to Europe to get there quickly.
I did, however, discover that globalization and capitalism are alive and well on the frozen tundra. There are gift shops inside gift shops. Huge cruise ships disgorge passengers onto the dock directly in front of cruise-line-owned gift shops (Ketchikan) and cruise-line-sponsored railways (Skagway).
Fortunately, the bears, eagles, sea otters, and whales do not carry advertising messages and are willing to cavort for free in off-the-beaten-track waterways so that people on small ships like ours can idle away hours watching them. I tell you, seeing a bald eagle take off, wheel around, and land -- up close with binoculars -- is an awe-inspiring sight. And a big brown bear swimming between islands doesn't give a rat's butt for those insignificant little cruise ships.
And the land -- what a magnificent place. We spent most of our time in southeast Alaska, where 800-foot-deep fiords meander between peaks thousands of feet high. We heard glaciers thundering and saw seals hanging out on bergie bits. In Denali -- although The Mountain didn't grace us with a view -- we were treated to the spectacle of a wolf trotting down the road, completely ignoring our stopped tour bus. You'd think he owned the place.
To be honest, I did not sit down at the keyboard immediately upon return. We've been home for a bit more than a week, but I couldn't bring myself to reenter the world quite so soon. The only news I heard for twelve days was the announcement that Lance Armstrong had won the Tour de France. That was just fine.
9:58:57 AM 
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