Denali Bike Ride

A week before summer solstice, we traveled to Denali (National Park & Preserve) to bike the access road with three friends from UAF, Martin, Sveta, and Tanja. Two of Martin's friends on holiday from Austria met us down there. The access road is 85 miles (135 km) long, from park HQ to Wonder Lake, which is often used as a photographic mirror for Mt. McKinley.

Most all Alaskans refer to Mt. McKinley by its Athabascan name, Denali, which means 'the great one'. At 20,320 ft, or over 6000m it's the tallest peak in North America, and one of the '7 summits'. It was shrouded in clouds on this trip, but Martin had previously flown us around it last April on a perfectly clear night giving us incredible views of the mountain and the entire Alaska Range.

The bus ride out to Wonder Lake took 6 hours due to the bumpy road with two way bus traffic, and the frequent stops to view wildlife and to cater for the bathroom needs of a largely aging tourist demographic. We spotted 2 grizzly mothers with cubs, but far from the bus; Martin, Tanja and Sveta were treated to one ambling up to within a meter of their bus before taking two steps into the bushes and disappearing from sight - two steps!

The ride out was,an adventure. It was long (13 hours on the go, 12 in the saddle) and on bumpy, hilly dirt roads the whole way. A thunderstorm cooled things down to about 10 C (50 F) and provided a good couple of hours of rain (and the surfacing of Mr. Happy).

Letting a bus through early on; Lise with Dall sheep horns at a info center; Mr. Happy; stunning countryside.

The views were incredible though, as was the wildlife. We saw a young moose amble up and diagonal across the road with a watchful eye on us, a coyote raiding gulls' nests, very many ptarmigans (AK state bird), ground squirrels, young hares and lake water birds. We were very lucky to see a large herd of caribou, and there were Dall sheep at the higher passes.

Dan and Tanja; Dall ram; two caribou on ridgeline; bear country!

Easing through the night. Tanja and Lise are enjoying our mid-point break at midnight. We woke u the Dall sheep asleep on the road side here at Polychrome pass.

Helped no end by Martin's seeingly inexhaustible supply of Lindt chocolate, we battled through the night to arrive at our pick up point (70 mile mark) at 5:30am. I was savaged by the sleep monster but somehow Lise and Tanja kept each other awake for a safe trip home.

Last Barrow Trip

The last trip to Barrow was timed perfectly. Last measurements were made and our equipment extracted just before the onset of a lot of surface snow melt that would have complicated snow machine travel and access to our site as well as interfering with the measurements.

The landfast ice has been very consolidated and stayed in a long time this year. Usually wind and ocean currents would have broken this ice into smaller pieces by now, allowing it to more away from shore and opening up leads (open water in the ice pack) so important for whaling. It was a terrible spring whaling season - only 3 whales from a quota of 22 strikes and 20 landings. It was the talk of the town. They'll wait now for fall whaling - hunting from boats in more open water - and pray for enough whales to see them through the winter.

We took a reccie out to the ice rubble zone, where stresses crumble the ice up and older ice is sometimes caught up in the first-year ice just grown in the last winter. I love this picture of Hajo and Matt Druckenmiller up on a huge block.

The water is a melt pond - the sun has melted snow on the ice surface but the water can't drain through the ice. As the ice warms up closer to its bulk melting point (-1.8 C) the ice actually does become porous enough to allow drainage - and this change in 'permeability' of the ice is what my work looks at.

One evening we also went 'birding' aka bird spotting. Hajo got super excited when he thought he'd seen some puffins, but it turns out they were more likely spectacles eiders (as in the ducks that give their name to eider-down). We did see tundra - and trumpeteer- swans, phalaropes, loons, snipes, different types of jaegers, and the local favourite, Steller's eider. Too bad we didn't see any snowy owls though.

We had a warm spell too - so now I've experienced -56 F and + 54 F up here (-49 to +12 C).

The on-ice equipment worked well this year, and preliminary results from the measurements with Malcolm Ingham from VUW look promising too. So all up, a good field year. I'll probably be back up in November.

May Update

Well, it's all turned from white to brown to super-green in May. The leaves took about 2 days to go from buds to being fully leafed out. What have we been up to now that there's no skiing and trips outside with the sole purpose of reporting terribly cold temperatures?
Highlights have included:

• Lisa finshing 1st semester classes and starting education classes proper, and
  
• getting a great hair cut from a crazy Colombian her told her she should grow it long at the front to cover her face when she's old (wtf?)
• attended the wedding of good friends Frank and Lalida (and witnessing just how bright it is at 3am when you're hammered and just want it to be dark so you can sleep..)
  
• making a day hike in Denali Park and seeing moose, ground squirrel, squirrels and Dall sheep
• Dan managing to go climbing a couple of times (closely followed by ice and ibuprofen)
  
• doing the 'two-way torture test', a two person race where we each ran a 1/2 marathon in a different direction of an up and down loop. Aptly named.
• getting involved in a big Cancer fundraiser - thanks a lot for all of you who've contributed!
• hosting a BBQ up at our place.
• two young grizzly bears rolling into town and hanging out at the golf course (!) one has been shot for getting into someone's yard.
  

Lisa has been running a lot actually, and is really looking forward to the Equinox Marathon in September. Dan's looking forward to one last trip to Barrow to tie up this season's fieldwork. with such big changes between seasons squuzed into the same 12 months, everything seems to change and happen so quickly. Summer is now on us, and we hope to really enjoy it.

Barrow in April

I'm now back up in Barrow for fieldwork, this time with Hajo Eicken (my boss), and Malcolm Ingham from Victoria University of Wellington. Malcolm is a physics professor at VUW who uses electro-magnetic methods to study the earth's subsurface. In Barrow, we're testing a new method to measure the connectivity of the brine inclusions in sea ice. If successful, this will enable us to make fully-automated measurements of the state of the ice in places like the McMurdo Sound runway in Antarctica.

Back in January, when Pat Cotter and I installed our wireless mass balance site, we also installed two strings of electrodes for Malcolm's experiments. The ice has since grown thicker - growing past the electrodes previously hanging down into the water. Each string has 19 electrodes spaced 10 cm apart. In the measurements, we inject an electrical current between two electrodes, one in each string, and then measure the voltage drop between two other electrodes. With 19 electrodes in each string, there are very many different possible combinations. We don't use all of them, just enough to get a clear image of the electrical resistivity of the ice between the two strings. This profile is related to the salt content of the ice, and how well-connected the salty brine inclusions are.

So far, so good: we've made one successful set of measurements, we've only seen prints but no bears, and Malcolm has had his first blast driving a snow machine. We'll also make measurements later in the season, when these measurements should be sensitive to rapid changes expected with warming above -5 C.
Here's Malcolm making measurements with field support officer Scott Oyagak looking on (and for bears!)

Hajo (left) cutting an ice core for salinity measurements to compare with the electrical measurements.

Colorado Creek Cabin Trip

Here are some pics from our trip into Colorado Creek Cabin in the White Mountains near Fairbanks. Our group included a 6-dog mushing team, a ski-jorer (she skied with some help from her dog pulling her along via a harness) and three of us on skis. Incredible northern lights, which my poor quality, hand-held long (10 second) exposure shots do no justice. I'll leave at this at the moment, so Lisa can write this one up...

I had heard plenty about cabin trips into the nearby White Mountains since I visited last time, and I was eager to get out there! We were invited along to a weekend long trip on a gradually uphill ski into the hut, and thus gentle descent out. It was a 50km round trip ski that took us around 10 hours all up, with temperatures around -20C and a windchill. It was *cold* and we kept moving. Thankfully we arrived to a warm cabin and some warm soup that the mushers had prepared for us, and we could check out our surrounds, chop logs for firewood and relax. Being so cold and clear it was a spectacular night for the aurora to show her splendour. This is one of the real bonuses to having an out house...throughout the evening people rugged up to do their business and hollered in reporting the aurora's movements. First striking green and dancing like a rainbow over head, and then a hour later, a massive array of green 'curtains' (it really does look like curtains in the breeze) with a strong line of dancing pink beneath, covering most of the sky. It's pretty rare to see such a colourful display even here, so I was delighted. The cold day and wind were worth it. Dan diligently lay down in the snow to get these photos, using his chest in lieu of a tripod...circumstances considering, they're excellent shots.

A great meal and evening of yarns ensued, as we learned about dog mushing, this activity that possesses so many Alaskans. Being out in the big spaces like this, with miles and miles of land ahead, and being able to explore that space with dogs who happily and hastily run through the woods, is what draws a lot of people to it. I went mushing over spring break and the sense of a team and solitude all at once is quite remarkable. The dogs slept outside in little nests they made for themselves, awake and ready to run again at dawn.

An amazing first cabin trip!

McGinnis - First Alaskan Peak

A week before I turned the ripe old age of 31, I got down to the Alaska Range and climbed my first Alaskan Peak - the modest McGinnis Peak. The trip was run through the Alaska Alpine Club and led by my good mate Frank. When we left Fiarbanks at a lesurely 7am it was bloody cold (-30 C) but down past Delta Junction it was warmer and as clear a day as you could imagine. In fact we saw no trace of a cloud in two days. We skied in 7 miles (11 km) up a creek and Glacier for about 5 hours and set up camp at the base of the scenic Rainbow Ridge.

Frank, me and Tom from the Czech Republic took off and climbing McGinnis in the twilight - a two hour round trip up a ridge left of the big bowl in the picture below (that peak is not McGinnis). It was about 75 minutes up a reasonably steep ridge involving some steep sections of front pointing. It felt great but I was knackered after the ski in. Enthusiasm and thoughts of Lisa spewing on the coast to coast but keeping on keeping on, help me to the top. A modest achievement but a fantastic view and great feeling. We climbed back down first under moonlight and then with head lamps, carefully picking our way down some sections face into the slope.


The caffeinated power gels and suagry snacks that had fuelled the ascent kept me awake far too long through the night. After about 4 hours sleep I was up at 6:30am to cook breakfast, or at least to get cold fumbling around with brittle matches and lighters which were too cold to light. The whole group of 12 then climbed the same route. It was much easier the second time around, even after little sleep, partly because steps were cut into the steep sections, but also because it wasn't into the unknown and dark!

The ski out was bloody hairy - a big pack on and down crazy hard-packed and windblown sustrugi snow on the glacier. Looking back, one of the 2 big full face plants must have been when I sprung my ac shoulder joint. The creek section was smoother sailing though, and we were back at Delta having a beer and burger by about 6pm. A great trip, and hopefuly the first of many such missions. Big ups to Frank for lending me so much gear and for leading the trip.

White Spring

Following the Fairbanks winter first comes 'white spring', then 'brown spring' (when everything melts) and finally 'green spring'. March 1 has come and gone - the northern hemisphere equivalent of 1 September - but there are certainly no daffodils or lambs in sight! However it is warming up, and the daylight hours are increasing about 5 minutes a day. White spring is the time to get out and enjoy the Alaskan wilderness with less concern about either horrific cold or bears!

We took part in a little ski tour last Sunday. We drive about 90 km from town and skied an out and back trail along the North Chena river for about 4 hours, including stops. Here we are during lunch break.
Accouting for Frank behind the camera, there were 4/6 beards. Lisa is sporting a new hat - won the previous day at the UAF trails day. She rocked up for some extra skate-skiing lessons, the 2 km classic ski race at the end of the day. Hey, first out of two is still first, especially when you win a hat, t-shirt, drink bottle, and $10 gift voucher!

So this little trip was really neat. I'm so glad that Lise and I have both picked up xc skiing quickly enough, and indeed enjoy it enough, to make these kinds of trips possible and fun. Skiing gives you access to these pretty remote places with minimal disturbance. When you stopped to pause in that vast wilderness, you could really get a sense for the enormity of the open spaces up here. Just snow sloughing off branches, and a few birds chirping to break the silence. Plenty of tracks about the place too, from moose wading through metre-deep snow to squirrels only punching through the crust about half a centimetre. Plenty more trips to come I hope!

For Gareth and Simone

Lisa and I are really very sorry that we can't be there today to join with you all in celebrating and sharing this occasion with Gareth and Simone. I'm sure I can trust the likes of Jase, Trev, Hutch and Dad to tell plenty of stories, so I'll shoot straight from the heart.

Gareth - I have always admired, and in fact envied, what I see as two distinct aspects of what makes you special. You've always been very comfortable meeting, mingling, and usually sharing a beer with people from all walks of life in all kinds of situations, in a natural and relaxed way. Its that ease that makes you such a natural and so good at your job - and a guy who's well known and well liked in the community.

But I'm sure that most all of you here this evening agree with me when I say that for those close to you, you're much more than the easy casual friend you are to so many people. While you make new contacts easily, you keep old friends very well: because you're straight up, loyal, giving and caring and stand by them. These attributes are golden.

So I think you've done well, Simone, but Gareth, or course, has done equally well in finding you. You are bright, bubbly, loving and have had an incredible impact on Gareth. Lisa and I are look forward to spending more time with you in the years to come. I can't wait to see the wedding pictures, I'm sure you must both look great, and be beaming.

So all the way from Alaska, Lisa and I wish would like to propose another toast - I'm sure none of you mind another drink! - To many fun-filled years together that are rich in experience and happiness; to Gareth and Simone!

Fieldwork in Barrow

Barrow is the northern most town in the US. Fifty years ago Barrow was a sleepy town whose inhabitants were largely native Inupiaq people leading a still quite subsistent lifestyle. The area was opened up after the discovery of Arctic oil in the 1960's and the cold war brought a strong Navy presence. The Navy Arctic Research Laboratory (NARL) has now closed, but logistic support for the increasing number of scientists who come to Barrow to study high-lattitude processes, particularly those related to climate change, is now a large industry here.

View South-west from the top of the Bank building in Barrow in late January.

Our work on sea ice is supported by the Barrow Arctic Science consortium (BASC). Pat Cotter and I were up earlier in the season than is usual for our group, and were greated by - 35 C temperatures and about 5 hours of workable daylight.

As part of the developmental phase of the Arctic Ocean Observing System (AOOS) we were installing a collection of instruments called a 'mass balance site'. Instruments included thermistor strings to measure the temperature profile through the sea ice as well as the water below and snow and air above, and 'hydraprobes' for measuring the salinity (salt content) of the ice.

The centre piece is a 5 m (16 ft) mast. The top has a T-section on which are mounted air temperature and humidity sensors and a sonic 'pinger' which by mesuring the distance to the snow below allows us to measure the snow depth. At the bottom of the mast underwater, are two accoustic sounders (range finders), one looking up and one llking down, which allow us to measure the ice thickness as well as the water depth. All of these instruments are connected to a battery-powered data logger, allowing us to make these measurements through the growth and melt season of the ice off Barrow.

Here is our field support / bear guard Scott Oyagak, and Pat Cotter at our site.

As an improvement on previous mass balance sites, this site is equiped with a radio system to transmit the data back to a computer at BASC, which will then be transmitted to our computers back at Fairbanks, and posted on the web in near-real time. You can see the antenna in the picture above.

Jsut before we arrived there was an ivu - an ice shore event in which offshore winds drove the consolidated ice up onto the beach where it crumbled and rode up over itself making mounds up to 50 feet (16 m) high on the road near the bank building. We were lucky to have local scientist and director of BASC Richard Glenn describe many aspects of the ivu. Richard is half Inupiaq and has a unique combination of local and wetern scientific knowledge of the ice conditions and behaviour. I'm certainly not the first kiwi up here. We also met Richard's wife, whose concern in preserving their Inupiaq language led her to New Zealand in the hope of learning about Kohanga Reo and other Maori language initiatives, and Barrow has hosted Maori delegations up here.

Lisa brings cold snap to Fairbanks.

Lise arrived in town January 12, and on time - an unexpected surprise from Alaska Airlines! She was also bang on time for the cold snap jokingly predicted by all and sundry, and of course by the immutable Murphy's Law. In fact this January has been about the 5th coldest in the last 35 years. People are scoffing at 'global warming', and the newspapers have been trying to differentiate between short scale local weather and long term, large scale trends in climate.

None of this stopped Lise, who seemed determined to carry on with her summer running schedule as much as possible! She dragged me out skiing and walking on the first weekend when it was only -30 C. Motorists actually pulled over to photograph her during her lunchtime run yesterday in -45 C !

Here's Lise at Creamer's field migratory bird area wondering why she'd flown north for the winter. The new Marmot jacket, and NZ leather/wool hat from my Dad are proving very popular!

Lise has taken to nordic skiing really quickly and we both enjoy getting out on the groomed trails and the mutli-use trails in the woods out of town.

White mascara is super fashionable in Alaska

Here we are basking in the short period of winter light having just jumped aside to let some ski-jorers through with their dogs. How 'bout those eye lashes! If I'm looking worse for wear here you should have seen me 35 minutes later, trying to keep up with her on the ski back out. It had just dumped a lot of snow so ski technique was less important that aerobic fitness as we basically jogged with skis on, and my snack-machine fitness plan was definitely shown up!

Its so great to be together again in the same place. Over the last 5 years, we've spent about 1 year apart; we're really looking forward to the next three years together in this exotic place called Alaska. We're already had to deal with squirrels in the roofing, a partially frozen water line under the sink, and changing a car tire in -25 C. There will be more challenges ahead for sure, but also a great many special opportunities.

Christmas & Tolovana Trip

Christmas was a little strange again this year. In some ways the being away from friends and family back in new Zealand was no different to other times of the year, and was probably not worse because it just didn't feel like Christmas. A White Christmas is some kind of ideal that we've been fed even in the Southern Hemisphere - and its cool alright - but the seasonal triggers just aren't there: no progressive build up from cut grass in the spring, the start of the cricket season, first chilly days at the beach, the Wellington November winds, slowly increasing temperatures and promise of those two weeks spanning Christmas and New Years where the whole country seems to just shift down a gear. Without those associations, which tie one Christmas with those nostalgic ones of years gone by - when the summers were always longer and hotter - there is undeniably something missing at a time of tradition.

I split the day between a midday ski with a bunch of friends and the afternoon and evening with Anna and Andy Roberts, who I'd been staying with I first arrived. We had a little antipodean bonding, all being so far from home, and the phone/skype lines were busy. Andy was being really knocked around by his chemo drugs; but it was really nice to spend time with these guys who have been so good to me in such trying times and become good friends. It was neat to open my gifts from home on Christmas Day with Lisa on the phone. Her arrival in two weeks will be a second Christmas

On Boxing Day I took off with the Christmas day skiing crowd for a three day trip to Tolovana Hot Springs. It was a 2 hour drive and 3.5 hour ski to get into the cabin. The drop into the valley was bloody steep for my skis and inexperience, but the slog up hill was rewarded with spectacular views of the Alaska range and painted sky to the south, and massive hoar frost crystals twinkling all around.

At the cabins we rented at the private hot springs, we fired up the stoves, ate well, and lounged in the tub. On Tuesday we skied about to somewhat justify more indulgences. Trivial pursuits went to the wire and fun was had by all.

Left to right: Lars, Phil, Ed, (Dart), Andy, Ellie, Anthony, and Leslie enjoying a dinner of salmon (in foil), lentil salad and couscous, night two in the cabin.

Here's the view looking west on the ski out on Wednesday. Lars, up on an abandoned water tank, is looking south towards Denali which was prominent on the horizon in such good, clear conditions. With about 4 hours each way, this was about as long as is comfortable with the current daylight conditions. We stopped at the HillTop truck stop for fries and hot chocolate/coffee and were back in town by 7pm.

A great trip with great people, that, I suppose layed a little ground work for this time next year really feeling more 'like Christmas'.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is an American holiday involving excessive consumption of food with family and friends, giving thanks, and reflective recriminations about the poor treatment of the Native Amercans. The event was reestablished by Lincoln to commemorate and thank the contribution of the Native Americans to the early pilgrims. Nowadays at least, it is recalled with post-colonial guilt that this was repayed with mass slaughter and land confiscation. For a Kiwi it feels like Christmas and Waitangi Day in New Zealand rolled into one, minus the presents.

I had thanksgiving dinner at the cabin of my friend Adam. Further to traditional Turkey, cranberry sauce, beans, sweet potatoes and stuffing, we had salmon quiche, salads, and even rice and dahl provided by some Indian (as in Hyderabad) friends. With 3 Indians, a German, a Canadian and me out of 11 it was a pretty diverse bunch, and a very enjoyable evening. Adam's big atlas provided the starting point for lots of conversation.

From the left, here are Holly, Jay, Lisa (from Alaska), Adam and Praveen.

And here from the left are Frank and Lalida, Rakesh, and Bridge. The red tanks bottom left are for water not fuel!

Adam and Frank (see Interior Ice blog) are good friends I met at the climbing wall. This Thursday we ate, drank and talked nonsense; as opposed to most Thursdays when we go to the climbing wall, and lay about on the mats talking nonsense. Somehow Adam's girlfriend Elena eluded the camera. Praveen, Rakesh and Bridge are classmates of her. The university is such a small place though - I knew Praveen and Bridge from playing indoor cricket with the Indian engineering contingent at the UAF Student Recreation Center.

Freed somewhat from the Native American question as a foreigner, I like thanksgiving: its a chance to get together, reflect on and acknowledge who and what you are thankful for in your life, and to eat good food with your friends.

Our Chena Ridge Cabin

Update: After giving Lise the hard sell, we are going to move into this cabin! It's owned by a friend of my friend Jeremy who took me out there with our friend Anna as Lisa's representative (for the woman's view of the access drive and interior conditions). much to my reflief Anna loved it, and I am sure that Lisa will too.

It's about 9km from campus and has great views out to the south, sitting about 10 C degrees warmer than town and above the ice fog that forms in Tanana Valley in the winter. Plenty, OK not plenty, but room enough for visitors looking for the real Alaskan experience (bears not included).

Above is Jeremy in the living area. Post renovations, there wil be a couch where the work bench is.

And here, between Holland (US Marshall Sands to you) and me, is the newly installed bathroom. Plenty of cabins up here have no running water - to avoid pipe-freezing probelms - but this palce is luxuriously appointed with a 5000 litre tank, flush toilet and shower.

First Ascent

Dad recently sent me this old picture that I don't remember seeing before. That's me and him and Ben, our wonderful labrador, at the top of Mt. Holdsworth in the Wairarapa, May 1987. Dad's got ahold of Ben because he was spooked by explosives being used in the installation of a repeater station nearby.

That was my first ascent of anything bigger than a good sized tree. I daren't say I imagined then that I would be in Alaska 18 years later. I wonder where I'll be in 18 more years? And if on seeing pictures from now I will also wonder if I really looked like that!

Interior ice

Interior ice is what grows inside your window if the insulation is bad. But it's also the collective term for ice that is good enough to climb in the Alaskan 'interior'; the best ice climbing is down near the coast at Valdez where its a bit warmer and wetter.

I sampled a little interior ice of the second kind on Sunday with my friend Frank. We left Fairbanks at 5am, and arrived at the trail head on the Glen highway at 8:30am. After some setting up gear and me worrying about the cold (it was -14 C) we took off up Boulder Creek. After one and a half hours of stumbling up snow covered river bed - being careful not to break through the sometimes thin ice cover of the steram - we found some ice that was 'in'.

We climbed two water seeps, one was a slab and the other was more like a pinnacle with some cool-looking chandalier icicles (top picture), that finished up a little snow gully. Frank led and I toproped and seconded.

15 hours round trip is a long day out! But it was great weather, company and fun, and especially great to be out exploring and enjoying the Alaskan wilds so soon after getting up here.

Frank abseiling off the first route, and leading the second formation.

Fly my pretties

Just before I left Lisa got me the Fly my pretties CD recorded live at Bats theatre in Wellington. Fronted by Barnaby Weir from the Black Seeds, Fly My Pretties is a mixture of Wellington musicians with some chilled-out really beautiful songs from Barnaby and guests. And some more rollicking ones too. Barnaby Weir writes some absolutely awesomely great songs, and I like his lyrics because they tend to be about real-life happenings and people. Genuine, often touching and frequently pretty uplifting and thankful.

Funnily enough, this album has songs on family, love, giving thanks to friends, and leaving Wellington for overseas. Many are striking a chord right now.

Daylight savings up here tomorrow, but we're losing 6 minutes of daylight a day at the moment so it won't be long until the hour of light we gain in the morning is lost again!

Setting up!

Well I have been back up here in Fairbanks for a week now, and finally got around to setting this up. We'll see how it goes, but I thought it might be a good way for me and Lise to drop stuff on to let friends and family know what we are up to up here in big Alaska.

I have been staying with friends Andy and Anna Roberts. Despite being Austrlian :p they are really great and decent people, who we met up here last year. It's been neat running into friends up here. It feels a bit like i didn't leave. Or, as I arrived at the same time last year, maybe it feels like I've somehow pressed 'reset'! Weird having just gone through something similar settling in back in NZ after the time up here and trip to Europe.

Anyway, its so far so good. Ice climbing this weekend, so maybe a few good pictures to add, though hopefully nothing too dramatic to report.

Here's a pic from our time in Italy, in the area where we got engaged.
ciao.