We took WAY more pictures in our three days in Alaska than in all the other trips combined. I'm not sure if it was the extra day or two, the closeness to nature we've missed on our city trips, or the foreignness of an arctic America. Or maybe it was Clint's trigger-happy camera finger...

At any rate, this was a great Labor Day weekend. We did the city thing and the small town thing and the glacier thing. We started out in Anchorage, probably the quirkiest major American city. And I don't mean quirky in a conscious, ironic way. It was moose barbeque joints next to rundown, teeny homes, a mall consisting of one store (Sears) next to wide open green spaces. We stayed in the weirdest place ever to carry the name "B&B" - but at least it was authentic.

Exploring the city didn't take long. We watched a video (complete with shaking seats!) on the 1964 earthquake that destroyed so much of southern Alaska. (Earthquakes are really common among Alaska's coastal islands, but they don't usually cause that much damage inland.) Later we headed out to Earthquake Park to see the exact places that were destroyed. Wandering around downtown (only about 8 blocks, really), we happened upon a crafts fair/farmers market/performance space with kids drumming. The best part of this was that all the food stands had salmon in every form - smoked salmon Caesar salad, salmon quesadillas, salmon burgers, salmon in Maggie's tummy...

But the most unusual - and truly Alaskan - place we encountered was the Lake Hood Seaplane Base. Anchorage has "the largest and most active seaplane base in the world," in case you were wondering. I just loved the feeling of adventure here, of dozens and dozens adventurous people taking off and soaring into the Arctic wilderness.

After a night at Glacier BrewHouse Brewery and the Snow Goose Brewery, we took off into our own version of wilderness. It was a great drive down south to Seward, on the coast, though the day was rainy and chilly (so much for Indian summer). We stopped at a wilderness refuge to check out some real live animals, also buying some real live Alaskan glass art.

We finally got ourselves to Seward, the cutest little village ever. It was teeny and low-key and unfashionable, just the sort of place you can feel comfortable. First thing, we ate at a maritime-themed restaurant on the harbor, then bummed around until our late-afternoon harbor cruise. The cruise itself was long (3 hours) and uneventful, with the skies too gray for pretty pictures and the whales too cold to surface. At night, we went to the recommended New Seward Saloon, which, true to rural Alaskan charm, had a stuffed bear rear end on the dance floor wall. I almost didn't get in because I didn't bring a purse (with ID) and they are absolutely not, no way going to let me in without one, unless I look really sad and cute and touristy. I mean, seriously, this is not some rinky dink little dive on the edge of the Arctic.

At this point, a normal weekend would be over, with us on the redeye and cranky. But two more treasures lay in wait for us. The first was a real live glacier, surprisingly accessible for we of no stamina and creaky joints. It was down a road off the highway, and we parked and hiked and took in the fresh air and glacier smell. Then back to the car and back to Anchorage, where we drove a bit more to get to the Eklutna Native Village, a crazy and - here's that word again - quirky site. We have no idea what it was about, only gathering that it was "the oldest continually inhabited Athabascan Indian site in the area." There was a Russian Orthodox church and a really old church and lots of wooden houses instead of gravestones. Though enigmatic - or perhaps because it was - this excursion perfectly rounded out our Alaskan experience. Picture after picture, documenting one strange sight to the next. It was hard to weed them out.