Tolavana Hot Springs

Our trip to Tolavana Hot Springs did not start out as fantastic as it ended.  We were packed and ready to go, and our oldest son started vomiting--five times--for several hours.  My husband's homework was not complete.  It had been a long and stressful week.  I had slept in and had also forgotten my warm mitten at a friend's house the day before.  But, we could not stay home.  This was our trip of the year, the trip we had booked long ago, and something I had wanted to do for a very long time.  And coincidently, it was also Easter weekend.  Just as we pulled out of the garage, our son mentioned that he had puked into a bowl in the back of the car.  I took a breath, went into the house to wash it, and then came back outside.  We continued on, an hour and a half behind schedule.

We made it to the Tolavana Trail parking lot and everyone took off on the 11.2 mile trail to the cabin, except me and the baby.  Not knowing the trail, we decided to wait until the others had experienced it first.  Imagine baby and me, 100 miles in the middle of nowhere looking at sunny snow-covered hillsides.  It was quiet, calm, and beautiful.  Now, imagine the rest of the gang:  a boy who only had four saltines and a bit of water all day, weak from the flu holding up a heavy helmet and riding in front of his grandpa, a tiny three year old boy at nap time, prone to falling asleep on the trail riding in front of his dad, and grandma, the most nervous of all, on her new snow-machine that she is afraid to drive because it reacts more quickly than she likes.  At this point, as I waited in the van for two and a half hours, I watched the crew who had rented the cabin the night before return to the parking lot.  I was very anxious to know how things were going.  Even though I realized I had forgotten my snowpants, it was warm.  I thought back about how I had told them to take their time, and I was optimistic.

Before I knew it, my husband had returned, a changed man.  Grandpa had lost his trailer, grandma had crashed into him, two separate events, and the trail was sketchy in places, but the cabin was nice and everyone had arrived safely.  My husband brought the baby and me to join the others on a somewhat thrilling trail ride.  From this point forward, the trip continued to surpass our expectations.

Part of me fantasizes about raising our family in a small cabin.  There is only one or two rooms to sweep.  That same small footprint forces us to play games together and forces us to seek freedom outdoors.  At home, there is television, video games, and way too many toys.  There are also several rooms in which to seek solitude.  Often, the kids do not stay outside as long as I would like because there are too many things to draw them inside.  I guess I am not the only one who feels this way because there is a book a friend gave me for my birthday called "Last Child in the Woods:  Saving our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder."  The book describes that in our kids' generation, versus ours or our parents', the conveniences and comforts of technology have pulled the children away from the natural world that nourishes their souls.

I am often frustrated with other adults, often who have or have had small children of their own.  No matter where we go, people are offering our children food (which usually doesn't resemble real food), candy, and toys.  They do not seem to realize that a well nourished, properly developed child is completely happy just being.  Why can't a child, for example, sit and listen to church service, eat dinner, or ride on an airplane without being offered things?  Children do not need to feed their bodies with garbage between meals, and they do not need to play toys when there is snow or mud and sticks, for example.  How can a child use their imagination, reflect, and learn about the world if they are constantly engaged in distractions from it and from themselves and their own thought?  My friend recently explained to me that we (as in our generation and our parents' generation) want our kids to have all of the things that we could not have when we were kids.  Whatever the reason, it is a bit over the top.  Children are simple.  And my observation as a mom is that they are happier when they have less.

I will never forget how happy the boys were to be in the hotsprings, to be snow machining in the mountains, or to just walk in and out of the cabin as they like to help their dad bring in the wood, the spring water, or to explore.  If you ask me, serenity in nature surpasses all other feelings except for love.  Now, the snow is thawing and it will be messy for a while.  We are fully back into our our reality at home for a while.  I hope that our summer is filled with outdoor camping and cabin adventures as revitalizing as this one.

The Salcha River Cabin and the Arctic Oven

The weekend following our first outing with our Arctic Oven tent, my husband and his dad took our boys to the Salcha River Cabin.  My daughter and I stayed home and prepared her first series of baby foods after her usual soft boiled egg yolk:  chicken foot stock, chicken foot stock plus carrots, chicken foot stock plus carrots plus lactoferment whey, chicken foot stock plus carrots plus whey plus moose meat.  You can tell which way the baby books are going nowadays.  To think, the boys had to start off with rice cereal and canned vegetables, because no one told me why that may not be a good idea.  Thankfully, they turned out fine ... a little noisy, but fine :)

Anyway, back to the cabin, the cabin is about a seven mile jaunt by snow machine from the road, partially on state winter trial and partially on the Salcha River.  The boys learned that you need to keep you coat on in the cabin until you can't see your breath anymore.  My husband was able to snowshoe a pad for our tent so that it would provide a solid base for our camping trip the following weekend.  The little boys came back rejuvenated.  I guess they both fell asleep on the snow machine ride back to the truck and they stopped for pizza on the way home.

So, when we arrived to stay for the night, the tent went up easily, and the boys were already acquainted with the cabin.  It is really fun to watch the kids enjoy a new habitat.  They loved that they could touch the ceiling, see the steam coming from their food, and take a ladder to their bed.  There are too many photos to post, but even though it was a big cold, they did some sledding down onto the river.  Next time, if the load is not already too full, I would like to bring my skis.  Again, the stars were amazing.  It would have been nice to stay for two nights, instead of one, but alas Monday came.

The Tanana River Trip with the Arctic Oven

Winter in Fairbanks is confining.  It's not like other wintery places, where you can spend significant time outside in the snow.  It is just too cold or too dark, even with the best snow gear.  I encouraged our oldest son to play violin after he showed interest, for this reason.  Music is one way that people of any age can socialize, express themselves, and challenge themselves no matter the temperature or the quantity of light.  A few other activities, such as swimming, reading, and many other arts come to mind.  But, surely, you can't ski or bike (two of my favorite things to do) very easily the entire year around.  And you sure can't camp very easily all year around unless you own or rent a cabin.  And cabins ... they don't move, so you are stuck staying at the same location over and over again.  Me, I like to try new places.  I never like to bike the same route or camp in the same spot.  You probably won't see me buying plane tickets to the same place unless there is family there that we need to visit.  There are too many new things to see and far too little time.

I tried winter camping once.  I went with the Outdoor Adventures group at the local University to hike in the mountains with snowshoes on my feet and our gear on my back.  I was in my early twenties, around eight years ago, and it was still very tough.  I was cold.  I was in pain.  I decided that it is for the more hardy than I.  I do not like to snowshoe, and I do not like camping with only a candle to warm my tent.  

In fact, there are many things that I do not like about camping.  On top of the fact that I do not like to be cold or in pain, I do not like to sleep on a hard ground or battle mosquitos.  So, when my husband said that he was seriously considering buying an Arctic Oven, I thought about it for quite a while and then finally said to go for it.  It is one toasty way in which to incorporate the outdoors and take a break from the norm.  It's too heavy and large to pack on your back so you have to take either a car or snow machine, and in winter the floor is too cold to sleep on without mats or cots so it is sure to be comfortable.  And, best of all, it can go anywhere any type of vehicle can take it.  This seemed to be our ticket to the outdoors in the winter.  And in the summer ... until the boys are old enough to go backpacking.

Our first trip was about eight miles down the Tanana River from our local boat landing.  We were close to being within cell-phone range.  I strapped my daughter onto my chest with a stretchy Boba Wrap and covered her with her great-grandfather's Carhart and hopped on the machine behind my husband.  She fell asleep right away on the snow machine rides, and she loved to look around inside of the tent and play with the zippers on the sleeping bags.  She loved getting all of the attention from mom and dad, while her brothers where staying at grandma and grandpa's house.  As the temperature fell from about 15 degrees to about -20 degrees and my husband learned to regulate the woodstove and the vents in the tent, we went from being in our underwear to being a comfortable temperature.  They don't call them ovens for nothing.

It was stressful at times for my husband.  Because I have a baby to hold, there is really not anything that I can do to help set up and take down the tent.  Putting up this tent in four feet of snow is a lot of physical work.  And on top of it, this was our first haul with this snow machine.  Would the eighteen year old machine make it with our heavy load?  Could we find a spot above the river to create a pad for the tent without getting the snow machine stuck in the deep snow?  Could he get the tent up before we got cold?  Would the tent catch on fire?  Would we have enough wood to last us the entire night?  Would we be warm enough when the temps drop in the night?  Would we get back safely?  Yes, of course, everything turned out very well.  It was wonderful.  It is these variables that make life interesting.  Part of the excitement of camping is not knowing where you will end up or what the weather will bring.  I finally got to spend some time on the Tanana River, and we finally got to spend significant time outside enjoying the blue and starry skies of interior Alaska.  We couldn't wait to go again.