Pont Alexander III

From Edmund White's The Flâneur:

"At the turn of the nineteenth century the scientific flâneur (a contradiction in terms, since flâneurie is supposed to be purposeless) was Eugéne Atget, an obsessed photographer who was determined to document every corner of Paris before it disappeared under the assault of modern 'improvements.'  He had been born in 1857 near Bordeaux and as a young man had worked variously as a sailor, actor and painter.  Penniless but driven, Atget carried his tripod, view camera and glass plates everywhere with him, shooting all the monuments but also the fading advertisements painted on a wall, the dolls in a shop window, the rain-slicked cobbled street, the door knocker, the guay, the stairwell, even the grain of the wood steps."

[NOTE:  All the pictures get sharper when you click on them.]

This reminds me to stop complaining about dragging around my Canon rebel, which takes much better pictures than my Canon Spotmatic, but doesn't fit easily into my pocket.  Paragraphs like these help me figure out who I am and what I'm doing on this blog.  Though I can think of friends who would disagree, I don't think I'm as obsessed - my attention is too scattered over too many things - but I do think about documentation of things and people that are often overlooked.  And as patient and tolerant as my wife is, I need to mind her needs as well as mine.

I read the above passage on the plane, after taking pictures on the Pont Alexander III.  Reading about the bridge today, it's draw becomes obvious.   Andy Strote writes that there are 37 bridges in Paris

"By far, the most elaborate over-the-top concoction is the Pont Alexandre III which connects the Grand Palais . . . and the Petit Palais on the right bank with the Hôtel des Invalides on the left bank."

 But I didn't know that.  In fact the first two pictures I took were from underneath the bridge.

We'd been walking along the Seine and after going under the bridge, we decided it was time to cross over to the other side of the river.  I started noticing bits and pieces of the bridge.






These cherubs caught my eye, but I was too late to get the perfect moment with the sun breaking through the clouds in the background.

Then I looked back and saw how the bridge was perfectly aligned with the dome of the Invalides, under which Napoleon is entombed.  We'd been there the evening before.







And the bridge lights were incredibly ornate.

I looked back again and found the name Pont Alexander III  (pont is bridge).

There was this muscular female figure (actually there were two) holding a torch.  I've since learned from Wikipedia that these are the Nymphs of Neva.  You can sort of see them in the middle of the bridge in the picture below.

We did figure out this was not a run-of-the-mill bridge, but we didn't know anything specific.

I've since checked.  It was build to commemorate Russian-French friendship and Czar Nicholas II laid the stone for this bridge name after his father.

A View On Cities explains more:

"The bridge was built at the end of the nineteenth century as part of a series of projects undertaken for the Universal Exposition of 1900. The exposition took place on either side of the Seine river and the new bridge would enable the millions of visitors to more easily cross the river. 

Construction of the bridge, designed by the architects Résal and Alby, took almost three years. The structure was first prefabricated in a factory and later transported and assembled by a large crane. 

One of the requirements for the bridge was that it should not obstruct the view on the Invalides and Champs-Elysées. This resulted in a very low 40 meters (132 ft) wide bridge with a single 107.5 meters (353 ft) long span and a height of only 6 meters (20 ft)."

And on the other side of the bridge - from the Invalides - is the Grand Palais, built for the Universal Exposition.

I tried think about the grandiose nature of this bridge in the context of Paris.  All the buildings in the central part of Paris are huge five or six story blocks that house shops on the bottom and apartments above.  (Well, I don't know that exactly, but at least much of above are places people live.)  Most people live in these large, if ornate, buildings.  They don't have personal backyards - though in behind the street-side facade there are green areas - or personal garages for the most part.  But they have Paris - the trees, the streets, the cafes, the public places to walk or sit on the grass.  They have wonderful public spaces and a great transportation network that makes owning a car unnecessary.

All of the beauty and convenience is available to everyone, it's not hidden in people's privately owned  spaces.  Am I ready to give up my backyard?  Not yet.  And Anchorage offers access to much more natural spaces to flaneur.  

This idea of flâneurie would seem to be at least a cousin to the idea of meandering, I topic I wrote about after reading the introduction to David Copperfield.  It appealed to me then and does still now.


Previous Post:  My Head's Still In Paris, But My Feet Are Back Home In Anchorage - some good photos flying over Greenland, Arctic ice.

Paris Walkability - Off The Chart [Updated]

Most subway cars I've ever been on have signs that mark all the stops.  But this Paris subway car had a sign with each stop lit up. Once you left the stop, the light went out and the next stop blinked. It was extremely easy to see were you were, where you'd been, and how far you were from your own stop. Note: we only saw one train that had this sort of sign, but over all getting about Paris is incredibly easy.

The metro cars in some cases come minutes apart. There are buses that crisscross the city too. Wherever you are you aren't more than - I'm not sure but our experience has been less than half a mile from a metro or subway stop.

This platform has glass walls so you can't fall onto the tracks, though  most  stations don't.  They have this in Singapore too.










I'm doing this post just because it's been so very easy to get around, something other places should emulate. The sidewalks are good with lots to see and there are many bigger, non-sidewalk areas to walk.




We got on this car near the beginning of the route, which is why it's so empty, but we've gotten seats on every ride.

So while I really just want to get something up here, so I can explore more, I did check on walkability scores and found this website.

It seems most of the sites focus on the US, but this one allowed you to write in any city anywhere.  But I couldn't find a way to do Paris as a whole.  This one picked a specific neighborhood.  I'm not sure all of Paris would have been quite this high.

If you click on the map, you'll get to the Walk Score website.





[UPDATE NOON August 20, 2016 (Paris time)I should add another point - the bike's available all over town.  We've seen them, but I'm only just checking how they work now.  You can get a year pass, a seven day pass, or a one day pass.  We might try that today, but I need to see if they come with locks.  We may try this today because my own walkability is being affected by a flare up of my old heel problems.  The picture below is from the other day.]

Evening Stroll At Powerline Pass

My bookclub met on the Hillside last night, not far from the cutoff to Glen Alps and Powerline Pass.  It was a little after nine pm when we got out, so I turned right up the hill.  Here are some shots.  Since this is summer in Alaska, and as a recent guest remarked, "It's 9pm in the afternoon."  The last shot was taken about 9:45pm.

Monk's Hood

Do I need to say anything about this?  After all these years I still can't believe I live 20 minutes from this other world.  

Cow Parsnip Seeds

I'm not sure what these are.  They were growing on a long dark purple stalk near the creek.  Click to focus better.  

A Nature Break - Just Relax And Enjoy

We did a short hike along the trail up toward Wolverine Peak Sunday evening.

My favorite part is crossing the creek and watching the water rush by.  So here's a moment out in the woods on the hillside above Anchorage.

There Was A Reason I Stopped Climbing Flattop

I stopped climbing Flattop years and years ago.  Trudging up a steep gravelly slippy slidey trail with lots and lots of people got old.

But something got into me today and I decided I wanted to go up the Flattop trail.  J said she wanted to come along, despite the fact that she hates climbing up and she broke her wrist a couple years ago negotiating the sidewalk in Santa Monica.

But with our State Park parking sticker in the window, we drove up to the Glen Alps parking lot and started up.  It wasn't quite as bad as I remembered at first.

The steps from the parking lot are gone and a new winding trail starts things.  But it goes up pretty quickly.  We first climbed Flattop when we arrived to Alaska not quite 40 years ago.  Our bodies are a lot slower than they were.

J was telling me to just go on ahead, so I pulled out my camera and started taking pictures of butterflies and flowers while she moseyed along.  I'm not sure what kind of butterfly that is.  I couldn't find it in my Insects of South-central Alaska book, nor looking fairly quickly online.  But I did find this tribute to Kenelm Philip - apparently the premier collector and student of Alaskan butterflies.

Wild geraniums.

At this point it looked like the trail was leveling off for a while and it had this fancy post and chain fence.   But it was a short-lived break.

When we first got to the 'steps' we thought, wow, they've improved this a lot since our last visit.  But these railroad ties were at various angles, and the dirt packed against them had been washed out in may places, so these were tricky walking.   

I'd say except for one woman, we were probably the oldest folks on the trail that we saw.  Most were half our age or less.  And it was warm to hot still at 9 and 10 pm when we were out.  

We did run into a six year old who was not happy at all.  The man I assumed was her dad said she'd been fine to the top, but coming down she had begun to cry.  My grandpa mode is just below the surface, so I talked to her about the trail, the chocolate bar I'd left in the car, but would have given her if I hadn't, and how our kids had spent a number of years ready to turn back on our hikes, then one day, said, "We'll wait for you at the top."  I didn't get a smile, but she did stop crying and maybe her dad got a little more sympathy for her limits as a hiker.  

Somewhere along these steps J decided it was getting too treacherous for her and decided to sit on the side and wait for me.  

I went on a little further.  Below is a picture of the people climbing the ridge toward the top.

I got to the second 'saddle' and started up the last part.  We'd been going up almost an hour already and I was thinking when our son would run up and back in 30 minutes.  

I was also thinking about my heel which after several years of issues hadn't bothered me at all in several months.  (I should probably write an update on that saga.)  And  mostly I thought about J sitting on the side of the trail.  

I looked back with my telephoto lens to see if she was still in view.  

No, those two guys were probably on the 'steps' but she was well below them and that ridge.  So I turned around and found her quickly enough.  We got down, as usual, much faster than we got up. 

It was a big energy booster though.  It felt good to be out and about.    The last couple of years with us flying down to visit my mom every month made it too easy to not get out into the hills above and around Anchorage.  But I'm going to get my money's worth from our parking stickers this year.  

Savage River Walk - Then Home

[UPDATE May 4:  Little did we know when we were hiking last Wednesday, that we were passing very close to a missing hiker, Michael Purdy, who, it is believed, died Tuesday night from a fall, and wasn't found until Saturday.  I've addressed this in a follow up post here.]

We drove back to Savage River yesterday morning.  It's about 12 miles into the park and as far as you can drive once the buses start - May 20.  There's a 2 mile loop trail on each side of the river connected by a little wooden bridge.  And you slip quickly into the natural world, in a slightly tamed way.  Here's from past the maintained trail looking back where we'd hiked.  Up this point it's an easy stroll, with rocks placed here and there to take the runoff from the hill.  But there are some muddy spots.  Usually in May we've had a fair bit of snow and ice still on the trail.  Not this year.  Just one snowy spot at the end.  We were on the west side (cross the bridge on the road and start from the unpaved parking lot.)  On the other side there were still some significant snow and ice patches.

[I looked for older posts about Savage River, but couldn't find any just focused on that spot, but here's one from May 19, 2007 that is mostly Savage River.]

As always, click on a picture to enlarge and focus.

The motion and sound of the water rushing were a major attraction on this hike.

lichen on a big rock

We didn't see much wildlife yesterday - none of the big ones.  We'd seen caribou, moose, and bears the day before.  But we did see a Ptarmigan along the road (still mostly in its winter white - just the head had turned brown.)  And this ground squirrel along the trail.  We've seen Dall Sheep on this trail, but not this time.  

This was the only blooming flower we saw on this trip - a moss campion I think.  We've never been here so early.  Usually closer to mid May, just before the buses start.  But it was a very warm winter in Alaska and the road has been open to Teklanika for a while now.  We didn't see many birds at all and the plant life was still waiting for spring.  Except this one.

Orange Lichen this time

There are lots of big and interestingly shaped can colored rocks along Savage River.

There are lots of rock outcroppings that I suspect were sculpted by the ice and snow.




There was lots of ice on the river at the beginning of the trail, but at this spot it had all melted and the mud was visible.

We had things to do, but our two days at the park were refreshing.  As we drove south, there were spots where the birch lining the road had leafed out, and the clouds offered a constantly changing tapestry.  

McHugh Creek

Here are a few pictures from Sunday's hike on the Johnson Pass trail from McHugh Creek.  The cottonwoods - and everything else - are still naked.  Below you can see them in different states.

Devil's club was budding. 

A couple of weeks ago, we came by and only the lower parking lot (right)  was open, but Sunday, the gate to the upper parking areas was open. 








And the creek was still flowing mostly under the ice. 

Random Shots From Prospect Heights Trail

The bridge at the creek not too far along the trail from the Prospect Heights parking lot.  I think this is the south fork of Campbell Creek, but I'm not certain.

 A close up of lichen on a dead tree branch.

A view from the trail.  I'm pretty sure that peak on the left is Near Point.

There was a little (really little, maybe two feet wide) creek that dropped a bit and had lots of bubbles.  This picture is a bit surreal, but I like it.  The bubbles are toward the left on top. 



It was a spectacular day, and this time of year there were no mosquitoes.

Three Bears, Dandelions, And A Moose

Some leftovers from the drive back to Alaska.


BEAR 1

Just leaving the Cassiar Highway, we saw our first bear.  A black bear.  Who was busy eating dandelions.

It seems when bears come into town, they ignore the dandelions and go after other things.  A shame.

So there's no doubt, here's a picture where he has the dandelions in his mouth.  I'm sure they would have been tastier when they were fresher and hadn't gone to seed yet.

I did stay in the car.  These photos result from a combination of the bear being close to the road, not concerned when I stopped,  my Canon Rebel telephoto lens, and some cropping. 

One more of bear 1, heading off. 
















BEAR 2

This black bear was mostly brown and we first saw him sitting in amongst the dandelions. 

His reddish brown fur was a bit mangy. 











BEAR 3

The next day, between Haines Junction and Kluane National Park, we saw the brown bear. 

It too was at the side of the road eating dandelions.  I stopped well before I got to the bear and was able to get a couple of shots when a big pickup pulling a huge trailer passed me slowly and stopped right next to the bear. 

Thanks, I muttered, and thought some choice things about the driver as the bear turned to the brush and disappeared. 

There must have been some discussion in the cab of the truck.  At the visitor center at Kluane National Park the trailer pulled up just after we did and a woman got out and apologized for her husband chasing the bear away.  The husband didn't get out.  I imagine this woman might apologize for her husband a lot.  I told her it was fine, I'd gotten my pictures. 

Then we went for a short hike to the first viewpoint on the nearby trail the rangers suggested. 

Kluane is a huge park and is a World Heritage site  combined with several other US and Canadian parks. 

The Kluane/Wrangell-St. Elias/Glacier Bay/Tatshenshini-Alsek national parks and protected areas along the boundary of Canada and the United States of America are the largest non-polar icefield in the world and contain examples of some of the world’s longest and most spectacular glaciers. Characterized by high mountains, icefields and glaciers, the property transitions from northern interior to coastal biogeoclimatic zones, resulting in high biodiversity with plant and animal communities ranging from marine, coastal forest, montane, sub-alpine and alpine tundra, all in various successional stages.

 It has a tiny, fairly primitive visitors center.  So far, it hasn't been spoiled with an adjoining commercial cluster of hotels and restaurants and other encroachments on the wilderness.  The hike was pretty much straight up, but the view was wonderful, the temperature delightful,  and there were a number of birds and insects (besides mosquitoes).  A visit to this national park is a visit back in time as well as space.  This won't last too much longer I suspect.

Then, driving on, in the 30 mile no-man's land between the Canadian border station and the American border station, we saw this stock image of a moose in a lake in the wilderness.  But I couldn't resist getting a picture.