The Arctic tern (Sterna paradisaea) is a remarkable bird. An Arctic tern might catch your eye with its bright red bill, with little legs to match. Watch their graceful flight for more than a moment, and you may be treated to an aerial dive! These seabirds plunge from the sky and pierce the water, seeking a just-right sized fish. Perhaps you’ll find it amazing that this diminutive bird (weighing in around 100 grams) can live over 30 years! Without a doubt, the Arctic tern’s best fun fact is that it travels from pole to pole (and back!) every year.
From its breeding grounds in the high Arctic to its feasting grounds in the Southern Ocean, that’s a round-trip journey of 25,000 miles for the tern! For a sense of scale, the average human might just attain that kind of mileage on Earth’s surface in an 80-year-life span. For this small seabird, completing the journey on wind and wing power alone, it’s an astonishing feat.
I invoke the Arctic tern here because, as you’ll soon see, the most significant thing about our 2023 was following the flight path of these beautiful birds from the North pole to the South. But before we could do that, there was another migration we needed to undertake, one patterned on a mammoth mammal that might be more familiar to the not-yet-birders among you.
Humpback whales can be found in all the world’s oceans, but in distinct populations. Today, there are 14 known populations, each group having a unique location and certain characteristics that differentiate them from others. My first encounter with this majestic marine mammal was with the population found along the shores of California. Most recently I got to meet the humpbacks of the Southern Ocean! But last year, I really got to know the group that breeds in Hawaiian waters.
They arrived in the winter, and suddenly filled the waters around our island. We could see them from our lanai, and from all of our favorite coastal running routes. These whales were magnificent, breaching and tail slapping and bringing their calves to the surface for extended periods, seemingly just to show them off. Daily sightings, though at great distance, became integral to my life in Hawai’i: one of my greatest sources of joy and connection.
But the humpbacks of Hawai’i don’t live there year-round. This population spends half of the year in their feeding grounds along the coast of northern BC and southern Alaska. As it turned out, we would also follow the whales in their migration, from the most southerly state in the US to the most northerly.
This year’s story is a tale of two places: the Arctic and our new home in Alaska, and an extraordinary expedition to Antarctica. This was a year like no other: so epic in scope and so glorious in beauty that looking back on it feels like a fairy tale.
Top 3 overall highlights of 2023
Alaska
We moved to Alaska in the middle of 2023, and it was the best decision we’ve ever made.
Not that it was easy: it was anything but! We were living in Hawai’i, after all! Despite going into that adventure with the mindset that it couldn’t last forever, I fell for the islands – and how! Watching whales frolicking in the surf, I thought there was no way we could ever leave again. But when the humpbacks departed the islands in spring, so did we. That was our first big migration of this year: following the whales north as we exchanged one known paradise for a surprising new one.
We got home in July. That’s just what it felt like: home! It was both far too good to be true – and somehow just right. It didn’t hurt to arrive in summertime, with the midnight sun lighting up our days and nights; everything under that sun growing green or glowing golden. Complete with verdant forests, rainbows, bright blue sea and craggy coastline, Alaska in the summer bore surprising resemblance to Hawai’i!
Then autumn arrived, and the landscape we loved was completely transformed. Along the rivers, stands of birch were gilded into shining brilliance. Up on the mountain slopes, tiny alpine plants blushed deep crimson, bright against the first dusting of snow on the high peaks. Ice crinkled across ponds and creeks, and our local waterfalls became dramatically elongated icicles. Lengthening nights revealed auroras, dancing across the sky above us. I couldn’t step outside my front door without being awestruck all over again. Our home in fall was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
Turns out, winter was also full of fun! Kent and I strapped on skis or snowshoes and went out to explore our home, made brand new again by the changing of the seasons. I even loved the long, dark nights: the bright moon rising out of the crags and slowly passing across the bowl of the sky; the twinkling stars overhead before and after work, and the cozy feeling of being snug inside reading or playing games in the evenings.
Before the move, I’d imagined myself pining for West Oahu (almost heaven, after all!) in the depths of winter. But surprisingly, I did not. Instead, I relished the crisp, clean quiet of the first snowfall and how it transformed our town overnight into a gingerbread village.
I embraced all the seasons as they came, and the different wonders (the scenery! the sports!) each had to offer. The humpbacks headed back toward the equator with the sunshine, and this time we stayed put. I opened my heart to Alaska and it swallowed me whole.
Antarctica
Even living in Alaska, there is nothing and nowhere like Antarctica. The sheer scale, the impossible grandeur so awesome it beggars belief. The icebergs are enormous, the mountains unclimbed and unnamed, the cobalt sea below teeming with life and the cerulean sky above empty of the hallmarks of humanity. It’s a slice of paradise I feel incredibly privileged to have experienced.
We decamped one icy pole for its polar opposite during our winter break. We’d researched this particular trip for years, and jumped at the chance to finally do it. When we weren’t willing away weather delays, we were laughing about how we were, in fact, still chasing the sun! The sun had set on our Alaskan home months ago, but in Antarctica, we’d be back in the land of the midnight sun during the austral summer!
Visiting Antarctica was like being dropped into one of my favorite nature documentaries. I’d dreamed of penguins and was surrounded by them; Gentoo, Adelie and Chinstrap – complete with eggs and chicks and sky mooing and love rock culture. I had hoped for seals, and saw three species! We spotted them on beaches, in the water and – my favorite – lazy lookouts on ice floes. I’d wished for whales and was wonder-struck by getting eye-to-eye with feeding humpbacks and spending time in the midst of an orca super-pod. I had long admired albatross, and they led us all the way across the southern seas.
Antarctica’s wildlife was the prime attraction for me, but I found myself equally amazed by the scenery. We were blessed with brilliant weather, and I spent every second that I could out on our ship’s deck. I was stunned into silence by the great tabular bergs drifting by and and a constant panorama of rocky crags aspiring to unmarked skies. It was breathtaking in every direction, and literally around the clock.
Moving to Alaska allowed for us to pattern our second migration of the year on that of the Arctic tern. Working domestically for the first time, my vacation schedule finally aligned with Kent’s public holidays. As for the means to this most wonderful end, well, this was the final gift from my Dad. An Antarctica-sized lump sum payment into the KnC Amazing Adventure Fund. I think he would have loved that we spent none of it on bills. Instead, we immediately invested it in a one-of-a-kind life-changing adventure. Which hopefully helps you with the question you must have hazarded by now: how can a public school teacher and a spreadsheets guy possibly afford an Antarctic cruise?
We are lucky. Extraordinarily lucky. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I will forever treasure.
The Great American Move (AKA CA -> AK The Long Way)
So, now you know we moved to Alaska this year, and visited Antarctica! Yet all of that amazingness took place in the latter half of 2023. So what before that?
The first full half of this year was a glorious continuation of the tropical theme of last year. I could wax poetic for days about the sunsets, the beaches, the whales and the waves… But the clock was ticking for our DINK, working-from-home-in-Hawai’i scenario. I thought I’d gotten all of the bananas job BS out of my system back in 2020 (and 2021…). Not so! This year started with a (now) hilarious period of job agony that rivaled that of the pandemic era.
Even after I got a gig that would have us following our friends the humpbacks, I had hang-ups. I’d never wanted to teach in the US: to me, it was a frightening prospect. Excited as we were about the Last Frontier, I wanted to sweeten the deal before a big career challenge. The negotiator in me planned and proposed a new Great American Road Trip – our best one ever.
We shipped Ravi back to California, then followed him back to the mainland ourselves. A couple weeks were spent enjoying all our favorite things about the Golden State before we officially hit the road! Our route was wiggly and winding across Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming and Montana. We stopped to play in national parks (me) and work (Kent) based in libraries/cafes/cute cabins in the woods. We even ran a race during this leg of our voyage – our only one of the year!
Then we crossed the border into Canada, and did one of the very best things of the year: we took the train to Churchill with my sister and brother-in-law to see belugas. BELUGAS!!! This excellent experience deserves its own story, but suffice to say it was my all-time favorite animal encounter, ever. After spending time with family, we continued on our way northwest.
I did not previously know what a Big Deal driving the Alaska Highway is! I’d been so focused on our move that I hadn’t put too much thought into the AlCan drive. But here again we were in for more magic! Instead of simply pushing on toward our final destination, we really lingered on the road. In fact, we decided to drive on to the Arctic Ocean (another peak life experience!), and hang out in Southeast Alaska before heading home.
Our two month journey between our sun-drenched Hawaiian life and our seasonal new Alaskan life was joyful, and just what we needed to adapt.
Best month
The best month of 2023 was absolutely, undoubtedly December. December was our Great Big Adventure in Antarctica!
As if that weren’t enough, earlier in the month and at home in Alaska, we experienced our first real winter together. We tried snowshoeing and cross-country skiiing for the first time! This in turn led to discovering new winter trails that would become well-loved parts of our weekly routine.
But, back to Antarctica. We saw our first iceberg on Christmas Eve (what a gift!). Then we celebrated our anniversary with a wildlife Zodiac cruise and a snowshoe hike in Neko Harbor on the Antarctic peninsula. (I’m looking back on that sentence I just typed and pinching myself: could that really be true? I must be the luckiest lass in the land!) What followed over the next nine days was a blur of penguins porpoising, paddling out with whales, camping on the snow and glorious landscapes in every direction, and at every hour of the 24-hour day.
Last year I wrote that December 2022 might have been the best month of my life. I believe December 2023 gives it a damn good run for its money.
Honorable mentions
May – May was our last month in Hawai’i, and we treated it as such – going all out with sunset dates and ocean excursions before we left our little slice of paradise. This month also contains my best ever solo wildlife encounter!
June & July – These two months featured our overland migration from California to Alaska, by way of Manitoba (Churchill!), new national parks and many other lovely places!
September & October featured some of the most far-flung and picturesque explorations of our new state so far! Also, autumn!
Best race
In another year featuring a single race, it’s an easy choice: Glacier Half Marathon!
This is a delightful race by any measure. It’s put on by Vacation Races, and is now the third event we’ve done with this organizer (Antelope Canyon and Zion being the previous two). However, this was different because it was a non-ultra, plus our first non-trail event in approximately a decade.
My favorite part of this event is that it is on a road that seems custom built for the race: Montana’s #49 highway is only 13 miles long – it’s a perfect fit! While the race is not in the national park, the route parallels the park boundary, with awesome views into that gorgeous Glacier scenery.
This race has a 4/5 difficulty rating on the official website because it starts with a 5 mile climb. But take that with a grain of salt: if you run ultras and love hill-climbs, it will be a cinch. We nabbed an excellent time (a smidge over two hours) despite multiple photo stops, without any training whatsoever, and despite accidentally running another half mary the day before on trails inside the park.
Best event
Introducing a new category for this year! That’s because a strong contender for best athletic event was not a race at all. Imagine a universe where I continue to compete, just not in running. What does that look like? It looks like…CrossFit!
We got seriously into CF in 2023! We ramped up early in the year and were soon doing WODs most days of the week at our friendly box in West Oahu. The sport was a really good fit for both of us: Kent relished the barbell routines as part of his goal to build muscle, and I love fast and furious sweat-inducing challenges that clear my mind.
Thanks to this new obsession, I got to do two non-running athletic events last year! The first was the CrossFit Open in February: three fun Friday nights in a row that involved the same type of comradery, intensity and physical challenge that I had previously found in the ultra-verse.
But my favorite? Murph, hands-down! Held every Memorial Day, this challenge honors a veteran and is as challenging as it is simple. For those unfamiliar with the format, Murph features a 1-mile run, 100 pullups, 200 pushups and 300 bodyweight squats, followed by another 1-mile run. I love it because it’s a monster challenge that requires zero fancy equipment. This event, and the training leading up to it in May, built my confidence in my upper body strength like never before!
Best mountain
Even if we had climbed dozens of other summits this year, I doubt you could find a single one as scenic as Mt Ripinsky (Ripinski) above Haines, Alaska.
Our summit of Peak 3920 in July was simply sublime! We stormed our way up through overgrown brush to find ourselves in a fireweed meadow, and I was already in heaven. Ascending still higher, I tossed my first Alaskan snowballs at Kent! On top, we had expansive views of narrow sapphire inlets, dotted with emerald islands, to either side. Eagles soared lazy circles above these bodies of water, through the inexplicable and indescribable Alaska light that infuses the sky on sunny days. It was nothing short of stupendous.
Honorable mentions
Though we scaled but a single summit this past year, we did spend a lot of time in the alpine. Since most of it was off-trail in secret local spots, I won’t disclose any more. But suffice to say that there are wonderful mountainous regions to explore right from our doorstep!
Best adventure abroad
Antarctica! A once-in-a-lifetime experience in the most remote region of our planet. Best adventure abroad EVER.
Best domestic adventures
Alaska, absolutely! I’m head over heels for our gorgeous new state. Kent and I have sometimes pondered if whether the past five years have been our ‘most scenic states’ tour. If so, we certainly saved the best for last.
We’ve had many adventures here, near and far. But rather than highlighting a single one of these, I’d rather celebrate the whole state in all its glory.
If I had to pick a single favorite thing about living in Alaska, I probably couldn’t. But I can define a few things that make this place so perfect:
I love Alaska’s seasonality. It’s been a while since we lived somewhere with seasons, and it’s absolutely delightful how completely the scenery changes at different times of the year. We’ve now gotten to experience all four completely distinct seasons, and during each one I’ve had the thought, ‘no, this is my favorite!’ Each is so stunning that I never want it to be over, but I’m always thrilled by the each incoming season too.
I love Alaska’s wildness. All my free time and money used to be spent trying to get to places like this. I can scarcely believe I get to live somewhere where bears, moose, otters and eagles are regular sightings. Where I can not only hop on a trail from my door, but I can hop off-trail too and make my own way through the landscape, like the animals do.
I love Alaska’s vastness. From the Canadian border on the Top of the World Highway, it was nearly a twelve hour drive home. Anchorage and Fairbanks are both over six hours away: in the lower 48, they’d likely be in different states. Adak, Juneau and Utqiagvik are so very different and so far away that they may as well be in different countries. This playground is so large, you could spend a lifetime playing in it and still not see all there is to see.
I love all of the unique Alaskan ecosystems that I’ve visited so far. However, I particularly treasure our little corner, where we are tightly sandwiched between the towering, snowy peaks of the Chugach and the placid, wildlife-filled waters of Prince William Sound. Endless adventures, right here!
Best animal encounter(s)
This year was phenomenal for animal encounters. Just the whole dang year. Too many to even enumerate, but I’ll pull some top-shelf faves.
Obviously the entirety of our Antarctica trip was beyond magnificent for animal encounters. We saw so many different species of penguins, seals and whales – and seabirds galore! And beyond species ID, we got to spent time with colonies and individuals, watching their distinctive behaviors and getting to know a particular pair of penguins or pod of whales. Pure magic, every day.
Perhaps even more magical was our experience on the water with belugas! These gorgeous white whales have long been a favorite of mine for their sweet, smiling faces and home base in my own home province. Going to visit them was a lifelong dream of mine, and the experience even more amazing than I could ever have imagined. They are so friendly, so curious, that spending time with them felt like a true interaction. Was a true interaction. My sister and I sang to them, and they chirped back to us, blew us bubbles and brought over their little grey babies to meet us. This, right here, face in the cold water of Hudson Bay, melons filling my mask and canary calls filling my ears: this was the pinnacle of my life so far.
But I’d also like to highlight something singular that I experienced on one of our last days in Hawai’i: a solo, unplanned and unexpected wildlife encounter. I’ve never experienced anything quite like this, and likely never will again.
We were on our regular run along the shore, and the plan was to go half the distance we usually did so we could spend more time admiring the albatross (we’d gotten to know a few individuals in one particular colony and adored them). Arriving at the end of the land, it happened to be low tide, and there were a few mermaid pools left behind in the depressions in the volcanic rock. I’m always a fan of these, and never more so than today, perhaps my last chance to enjoy one. The albatross swooped low overhead, and we could see a pod of dolphins offshore, but we were otherwise alone. I stripped down to my skivvies and leapt into the pool.
Refreshingly cool water bubbled up to my shoulders as I joyfully doggy-paddled around, touring the porous rocks for crabs and sea stars. I was just about to investigate a channel leading into the ocean, when a monk seal swam in from the sea – and directly toward me. I gasped and beat a hasty retreat, floundering backwards and hauling myself out on a rock as quick as I could. It is illegal to get too close to these endangered pinnipeds, and I was unintentionally very close indeed.
It swam within arm’s length of me before I was high and dry. I crouched motionless on my rock while watching it sink and resurface, breathing audibly. The monk seal was clearly resting, and even today, watching the videos Kent took of it there in our pool, puts me at peace too. We spent over an hour together: humans looking on silently, monk seal lounging underwater and deep breathing at the surface. Three beings, sharing a rare moment of tranquility in a rocky oasis.
I didn’t move from my rocky perch until our friend eventually swam back out to sea. I have never been quite so close to a wild life before, nor have I felt so serene in the presence of one. What an all-time amazing animal encounter!
Honorable mentions
Every single albatross meeting on our coastal Hawai’i runs and hikes!
The frog that saved itself from our swimming pool by climbing out on my shoulder!
The white unicorn that lives on the North Shore!
The turtles that we swam with in our local lagoons every week!
Our first moose in Wyoming!
Our bonus polar bear in Churchill!
Adorable porcupines and our first caribou on the AlCan!
The sea lions and black bears we watched feasting on salmon!
Kent’s birthday musk ox!
Best person
Most of the awesome in my life is because of one human, and it’s this one. Kent was the catalyst for incredible change this year in so many ways.
Our fate was literally in his hands mid-year when I held out two sticky notes and asked him to choose between staying in Hawai’i and moving to Alaska. His heart migrated north, and I’m so glad we followed his instincts to this beautiful place.
Kent also selected our post-CrossFit workout plan when we could had to take a hiatus from our new sport in our small town – and his programming led us both to great gains in strength.
Once again, he was my rock while I took on my first year of public school. I literally could not have made it through the year without his stalwart support. He was always there for me: from our post-work running routine, to a daily dinner of rice’n’beans, and tight, two-armed hugs on the days I found the toughest. He prioritized our relationship, despite taking on ever-greater challenges in his own work.
Kent finds happiness in everyday wonders, and generously shares his joys with me. He also gamely tags along and puts up with the financial and logistical pressures of my adventuring ambitions – never more so than this year, perhaps. He makes the tough times easier, the best times better, and the everyday a delight.
I’m the luckiest partner on the planet, and I hope to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve my good fortune.
2023 by the numbers
Kilometers: 1506
The lowest kilometer count on record, in fact. I’m not going to cry about it, because I’m less focused on numbers these days. Lately, adventures have trumped training, and these have been so much more about quality over quantity. The low tally can be chalked up to an early focus on CrossFit, the Great American Move mid-year (perhaps living in the US in general too) and, of course, our once-in-a-lifetime pole-to-pole expedition at the end of 2023.
This year I ran only 1122k, but mapped a decent 336k of hiking routes (including in snowshoes!) and over 22k of paddling.
Ultras: 0 (?!)
We did not ultra this year, either. If you are thinking ‘who are you?’, you’re not alone. We’re now a far cry from the year of the race in 2019. It’s a simple as this: our resources were diverted elsewhere this year.
But it’s also: I haven’t found a race yet in the US that’s course is so tempting to me that I’m (1) willing to dole out hundreds of bucks for registration, (2) eager to ask Kent to sit it out in order to crew me and/or (3) delighted by the idea of experiencing a location with hundreds of other humans when it could just be me and the birds out there on another, non-racing day. Maybe it’s more than just money: maybe it’s my mindset. Living in and getting the most out of beautiful destinations in the past two years has spoiled me in so many ways.
However, we did race! We ran the Glacier Half Marathon in June after realizing we’d be in the right place at the right time for another Vacation Race. We prepared for this race by accidentally running another half marathon in the same national park the day before. Kind of like a small-scale stage ultra, come to think of it!
New Peaks: 1
That would be Mt. Ripinsky’s Peak 3920. And what a peak it was! If you’re going to climb a single peak in the course of a year, you could do a lot worse. My thought on arriving at this summit was that I’d found the most beautiful place on the planet and could finally call off the search.
However, it’s worth mentioning that this metric doesn’t account for any of the great many passes, ridgelines, alpine plateaus, false summits or glacier excursions that made this year magical. It’s not that 2023 was not mountainous, it just wasn’t especially peaky!
New places: 1 new continent! 2 new territories! 4 new states!
Antarctica is kind of a big deal. Although technically we were among those on board celebrating our 7th continent, our expedition was so focused on the ice and the animals that I actually almost forgot about it! A neat little cherry on top of a world-class experience, for sure.
This year I got to explore so much more of my home countries! During our Great American Move, I not only saw much more of my own home province – I also finally visited the Yukon and Northwest Territories! Many moons ago, I was a student of journalism considering working for the national broadcaster in a remote northern community. Driving across the 60th parallel during an endless summer day this year, I felt like a lifelong goal had been achieved.
Our route north also took us through Idaho, Wyoming and Montana – three states I adored! But the one I adore the most is now our home, the Great Land of Alaska. Words can’t do justice to the stunning beauty of the untamed wilderness that we are privileged to inhabit.
In another first, this is – by far – the latest I have ever written and posted an annual review. Even my personal year-end journal entry was late, but this online version is truly tardy. It’s June 2024: I’m writing to you from the midway point of the following year! The year 2023 was so big in so many dimensions that it took a lot of processing. That processing is ongoing, when it comes to downloading, detailing and hopefully, eventually, depicting our Antarctic adventures! Public school teaching also took all of my bandwidth for a great many months, both this year and last. What a year. What a wild and wonderful year.
My wish for (the remainder of) your 2024 is that you find or embrace tranquility in your life. Maybe that means doing something so big it leaves you awestruck long afterwards. Perhaps that means really, truly appreciating all of the small things that form the foundation of our lives. Probably that means a bit of both. Whatever peace or contentment means to you, I hope it finds you and you make space for it in the year ahead.
