Chicken Alaska

July 26th

 

Sunny day with clouds that burn off, for sandals and t-shirt garb, and on our way to Chicken,
Alaska. This little contained community, starting as a gold-rush habitat in the late 1800s, turned
out to be another gem, and another fave, which was surprising. There was a huge plywood red
chicken welcoming us to the three-stored period "mini-mall", connected by wooden sidewalks,
and owned by one woman, Susan.

 

The mercantile was the usual touristy faire, but also included some tasteful jewelry and fun toys,
hats. Next, was the most fun and bawdy decorated saloon, with torn panties, bras, an array of
"wife-beater" shirts, and other general ripped attire tacked up on to the ceiling and walls, with no
air in-between them. Susan's cafe was at the other end, and walking through the wooden
screen door, introduced you right away to a great assortment of gigantic iced cinnamon rolls,
which we split on the porch table, berry pies all sliced and ready to go. The chalkboard menu
presented mouth-watering sandwiches, soups, burgers, breakfasts, and tables were set neatly
with no preservative ketchup, salt and pepper, and flowers. She was ready for tour bus
luncheons, inside and outdoors. It was a classy rural establishment.

 

Only around the dusty corner, was another complex of gift shop/restaurant, with cabins for rent,
and the giant 20 foot tall, white and red rooster, made of high school lockers. I ended up
purchasing two of their own designed t-shirts, with animated chickens on one and abstract
chicken dancers on another, on two shades of orange. On to the next shopping area down the
road, which housed a gift store that held no interest for either of us, a small cafe, a pile of rocks
one could shovel around in, for gold nuggets or veins. The one draw that had us returning to
three times, was a small jeweler, sculptor, and he and his wife also collected other Alaskan
artists' work to sell. They were from Oklahoma originally, with a tell-tale accent, but have lived
in Alaska since 1983, with shop summers in Chicken, and the rest of the year in Palmer. Very
nice, down-to-earth folks, and we liked them much.

Mark angst over two pieces created by the man, a graceful, ivory ulu, and a beautiful sculpture
he had carved out of whale vertebrae and walrus tusk fossil, of an eskimo man holding a spirit
fish of salmon and halibut fantasy. We left the shop twice, and for the third visit, Mark looked
closer, questioned what the fish eyes were made of, and when glass was replied, he decided to
forego purchase, preferring inlaid ones with mother of pearl (or something similar) or carved. I
had also noticed those orbs, and wondered if they were going to jiggle, like stuffed teddy bear
eyes.

I had sneaked in before Mark, and purchased the ulu for him, since he is so difficult to gather
any gift clues from, and had to disclose this, when he decided to buy it. Hopefully, the old brain
memory will erase this moment from his noggin altogether.

There was a couple from Hermosa Beach, CA, also in the shop at one point, and I engaged
them with information of Max also living there, as well as Manhattan Beach once being my
childhood home. He had worked for TRW, where Tracy also did, which bought my old Aviation
High School campus, eventually. They had lived in Australia and England for several years,
looking for a place to root, and even considered Sandpoint, at one time, but realized many
pleasant places also had weather to contend with in winter; hence, Hermosa Beach. Salmon
fishing was on their agenda, and then returning to So-Cal.

 

Onward, up to high places on The Top of the World Highway, which was grand and awesome!
The narrow dirt road has intimidated many along our travels, from even attempting it, but Mark
tells them it is fine, as long as you take it slow---not for those in a hurry. No railings, with a
thousand foot sheer drop on the steepest curves of this scenic, rivered, and mountainous ride.
We stopped numerous times to photograph the South Fork of the Forty Mile River, which shone
with luminous, light green algae on both shores at one bend.

The sky went from blue and sun-rich, to thunder grey with lightning in the distance, and a great
time to coincide with Mark's spotted campsite from before. Another long turn-out along a creek.
We have been watching the initially shallow and rocky water continue to flow faster and higher,
with this new rain, and now the rocks are submerged, as are the sandbars becoming. Perfect
afternoon for napping again, resuming our Uno battle, tuna casserole and freshly baked
chocolate chip cookies in the convection oven. Listening to collected music of Tingstad and
Rumbel, Yanni, David Lanz, The Rankin Family, Celtic tunes, and soft rock, accompanied by a
waltz with my guy. Sweet.

Viking Cabin

July 25th

 

Waking to blue skies, the trumpeter swan family of five in one of the Twin Lakes, and both of us
having had fairly solid sleeps. I think the bike ride yesterday assisted me to slumber deeply. I
dreamt about my deceased mom's ECF staff taking liberties in changing her and other
residents' names, and asking family members what cutesy ones we wanted to dub our beloveds
with, e.g. Wonder Woman, Sweet Girl. In the dream, I was furious that they presumed they
could remove Mom's formal identity and pride of being Marion Choy Kim, and voiced my
contempt. Then, after self-calming and planning to ask one of her favorite Filipino nurse's aides
if she has a nickname for my mother. If Mom smiled with this potential endearment, giving her
pleasure in her dementia and post-stroke state, of course I'd be on-board with the change.  Once this was accepted, I woke up. Interesting one, with theme of flexibility and letting go.
Saturday is egg-day for me, and gracious Mark made pancakes and scrambled egg-beaters.

 

Yum! We packed-up camp, and drove six miles out of the park, to take a very short hike to the
Viking, a public cabin closed now due to witnessed bear activity this month. It was unlocked, so
we got to mosey inside. It is well-equipped with bunk beds, and a roomy sleeping loft, wood
stove and fuel, oil lamps, table and chairs. In the seventies, it was a homesteader's cabin, and
now available for sharing via the NPS.

On our way to The Top of the World Highway, stopping in Tok for gas, dump and water. Lunch
was at Fast Eddie's, with a super salad bar for me and beer-battered fish sandwich for the guy.
The tiny, yet well-used library in the visitors' center, provided wifi access again, as it did a month
ago, so emails and facebook were visited for a spell.

This highway certainly does feel as though one is on top of the world, at times, with wilderness
as far as can see, much like Denali. There was a vast fire in 2004, destroying thousands of
acres, so the drive is lined with even more spindly, charred black spruce, with green growth and
shrubs surrounding the ground in-between these Dr. Seuss-like trees. Fireweed has become
my favorite flower on these highway jaunts, and they are the first to blossom after fired grounds.
Beautiful, vibrant fields, side-lines of fuchsia.

The sky and clouds are also vast, big in this country. Rolling green hills in the distance that
silhouette one another forever, are our mountains today. No glaciers since leaving Wrangell-St.
Elias this morning. A different vista of beauty with nature's destruction and bloom. Our camp at
4 tonight is on a hill turn-out, with a panoramic vista of boreal fired forests and tundra foliage. It
has sprinkled, thundered and now a balmy breeze, sun and blue bless us. We will walk down
the nearby dirt road this evening.

 

About 5, a native man with a large space between his lower row of teeth, drove up to our hill, in
his green Subaru, with bicycle sprawled in the back, and asked me through the window where
Canada is, is there a ferry, how much is it? I was the messenger, with Mark supplying answers
and we pointed in the direction of the town of Chicken (a gold-rush town in the late 1800s, that
was supposed to be called Ptarmigan, after the Alaskan state bird, but no one could spell it, so
the bird's equivalent is our clucking mate), for more specific directions and information. He
seemed naive, disorganized, desperate about travel around these desolate parts, even though
his plates showed Alaskan residency, and we trust he will get to his source safe and soundly.

Dinner was on me, and it was fun making an omelet with spinach, swiss cheese, apple-chicken
sausage sauteed in onions, garlic, and a splash of barbecue sauce. Mark points out how I
moan and groan when I eat certain delectable meals. I also make sounds when I spit water and
toothpaste, unknown to me, since I assumed we all do.

Uno was our game of choice, which was trey fun, with lots of playful competition and raucous
laughter over our spastic dealing styles, with cards flying all over the place. We will continue on
with the tourney to 500 points for the next few days.

Tomorrow, Chicken for us, as well. It is where the book Tisha, took place, so I am eager to just
be present there, even though Mark preps me to lower expectations, since there is really no
town anymore. Tisha was there in 1927, post-gold rush, but, evidently, the schoolhouse where
she taught, is still standing, and a tour can be had through a private resident.

The wind is rocking "M" gently, which is soothing.



Nabesna Road

July 24th

Boy, another lethargic morning for me. No cold, thankfully. I didn't even have motivation to do
my exercises, and Mark seemed concerned when I blew my nose with a different sound in the
bathroom, and had to check-in on me---possible lay-over and hype rvigilance from yesterday's
family news, as well as being the caregiver of Gail for many years. My theory for my
sluggishness, is lack of aerobic exercise the last several days, with the majority spent sitting in
"M", after leaving Seward for Anchorage, then re-supply shopping. Usually, our days are passed
with hikes and/or bike rides, and the beach hike with Lael, on Sunday, was our last exercise.

 

On the road to Glenallen

Tok or The Top of the World Highway was our tentative destination today, and McCarthy was
ruled-out due to potential rough road for "M". This afternoon, however, Mark suggested we take
a side-track to Nabesna, entering the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, which was great with
me, since we skirted this grand park, when we turned away from the rest of the McCarthy road a
while ago. The drive reminded me much of Denali, with the sloping green hills from the
mountains, boreal forests with kettle ponds and lakes. Fireweed is magnificent this time of year
here, and provide rich gardens along the highway, and at our camp today. As is fitting, Mark is
sharing another of his favorite boon-dock camps, a turn-out on this ultra-quiet gravel road, with
a picnic table, view of Twin Lakes, with a resident loon or two singing that lovely, special note.
After the five hour drive here, we napped, languishing in the sunshine and perfect breeze.

Then, we rode bikes 12 miles, for a couple hours, to a trail we will hike tomorrow. We chatted
with an engaging and cheerful gentleman from Ontario, probably in his 70s, traveling alone
throughout the rest of Canada and Alaska. He was also boon-docking in a turn-out, after
spending one night in the established campground down the road from us, but there was not a
view, so he shifted to a lake one. I assumed he travelled alone because he is a widower or
divorced. The poor guy hadn't seen any Alaskan wildlife except for a mama moose and her
calves. There is a park cabin a half mile from him, that is currently closed for overnights, after a
bear was sighted trying to break in. The Canadian considered walking out there, hoping to see
one, but also admitted he gave hiking up, due to his legs. We wished him safe travels and bear sightings before his Alaskan adventure ends.

Getting home, we both were worn-out, hot, and hungry. Dinner was delicious and satisfying:
BBQ'd salmon burgers, broccoli and applesauce, tapioca pudding, and Mark's hot apple cider.
Having the latter last night and sleeping solidly, he is experimenting with it again tonight. Biking
was exactly what I needed to feel more alive, jump-started; although my energy was returning
post-lunch. Hot showers followed our meal, which always feel like heaven and nirvana.

 

Relaxing by our lakes, listening to all the loon and other fowls' songs, wings flapping in the
waters, new light rain on the roof. Mark has emailed, via the ham link, to all our kids, updating
our location and secure status, since there is no phone nor wifi connections out here.

 

Darkness is starting to put a damper on this 24 hour Alaskan daylight, just this week. It is 10
p.m., and feeling like dusk, that has not veiled until 11:30 usually. When either of us has to
trudge to the bathroom potty during bedtime, the last few nights have been dark. The previous
sunshine would only slightly dampen down at 11:30 p.m., as I mentioned, and then arise again
blasting at 3:30 a.m. It is preparing us for our descent into the lower 48, which seems fitting.
Sleep soon.


Matanuska Glacier

July 23rd

 

Waking at the Eagle River campsite was slow today for me. Because we are experimenting
with lighter blankets, I was hypersensitive to each of us having enough coverage as the evening
got cooler. Also am nursing a budding cold, gargling with Listerine and taking Wellness Formula
throughout this day on the road again. After acknowledging what a wonderful 15 days we had
with the god-family, I find myself anticipating another segment of new and former places, on our
way down to Idaho. Three weeks is our goal, the second week of August, for his and her
medical appointments.

 

 

Getting out of Anchorage, took us to the Matanuska Glacier, that heads into the Chugach
Mountains for 27 miles! We photographed the 2 mile-wide swath of ice winding its way through
the mountain canyon channel, a unique sight. Aspen and poplars are already starting to turn
golden here, and I had to remind myself it is only late July, still full summer.

Lunch was sandwiches, smoked salmon and chocolate cake, next to Long Lake where several
fishermen were in their boats. Heading into 2 p.m., we decided not to gamble with the
McCarthy road again, in case we would have to turn around a second time, due to deep
washboards, and spend more on gas. Instead, Mark found another local favorite camp, this one
on the Little Nelchina River. It is a former state recreation site, just off the Glenn Highway, and
unmaintained, and no one else was present, until a couple vehicles pulled in towards dinnertime,
with no sight nor sound of them the rest of the evening and morning.

Settling in, Mark received a call from daughter T, about a relative with health issues, and
because of the poor connection, I suggested we drive up to the highway so they could
reconnect clearly. The news dampened spirits, which is to be expected, so we fly-fished on the
rocky river beach for an hour, to lose ourselves. An hour before, there was lightning, thunder
and rain, so we were grateful for the sunshine. After losing two flies and me getting line stuck
twice, we called that a day.

Dinner was a mix of shrimp and chicken sausage with apple, mushrooms, onions and pasta,
with applesauce and peppermint patties for dessert. Afterwards, we drove back up to the
highway, so Mark could call other family. The unknown status of the family member was clarified
more by Michelle, which was a bit more reassuring. Back at camp, we both meditated in our
own ways, after such a stressful, worrisome afternoon. Stillness was needed. Lots of prayers
and thoughts are sent to loved ones.

Good-bye Alaska God-Family

July 22nd

We are tired, here in the Eagle River campground, just about ten miles out of Anchorage proper,
after completing our marketing and shopping with a late start out of the city. Dined at Pita Pit,
and almost got two haircuts at a Super Cuts type salon, but did not want to wait. Mark's coif is
somewhere between early Robert Redford in Jedidiah/Jeremiah Smith (?), and Bozo the Clown,
and my bangs look almost more ridiculous than my 6th grade picture of gremmie surfer girl (a
wannabe). There will be other walk-in cutters along the way to The Top of the the World
Highway, Mark reassures me.

Got to the Bocheneks' yesterday, from Seward, in time for a BBQ in their back yard of lovely
gardens of flowers and veggies, a chicken resort with their 9 babes, and a new 2 day-old
badminton set that Greta, Amelia and I christened more that night. Lael showed up, too, back in
Anchorage to oversee his groundbreaking of the shop at Marah's. She returned today with her
visiting two former pediatric resident gal buds, from Homer and Seward. They all did
residencies at Children's in Seattle. We all enjoyed a leisurely night around their campfire, with
s'mores, peach pie and ice cream, before we all turned in.

 

 

Mark and I did a short 3 mile hike to the Exit Glacier edge and down to the braided river bed,
just outside of Seward, stopped for lunch along a river, and did a Costco run before getting to
Lyra and Rob's yesterday.

 

 

This morning was spent chatting with the kids and Lyra, saying farewell to Rob going to work,
and Mark offering to do our Fred Meyer run, while the gals visited and got ready for a bike ride.
It was raining, so we nixed the bike ride, and opted for meeting Mark at a terrific, innovatively
equipped playground by a river, where the girls got to play with their two friends Arris and
Giselle (?), while their pregnant mama, Alexis (a NICU nurse) got to visit with us adults. We
separated from that family, and lunched at a fantastic bakery cafe, close to the girls' school,
where Lyra hangs-out often, grabbing coffees and treats.

 

 

Hugs and kisses were shared with the girls and Lyra, and we stopped to see Lael and Marah's
home, and witness the pouring of the ground forms' foundation, which they were both excited
about, photographing the event. We started on our next gypsy wagon journey, with the first
potential destination of returning to McCarthy, in the St. Elias-Wrangell park, since the three RV
women, Mark met up with in Homer, told him the road there was fine after we had the terrible
washboarded ride and turned back. The Root Glacier is awesome, and Mark would like me to
experience it, so we shall see. Eventually, we'll head up to Chicken, and The Top of the World
Highway, and make our way down through Canada, Jasper again, and towards Idaho, by mid-
August or earlier.

I am looking forward to seeing more beauties of views and wildlife, on different and old routes
through these glorious wild places.

Seward

July 20th

The last three days in Seward have been so enjoyable, and it is one of my favorite towns on this
trip. It reminds me of a cross between Sandpoint and Kaslo, BC, with a charming, yet not glitzy
downtown, with older businesses of restaurants, bars, stores, blended with recently created hip,
well-presented ambiances and terrific menus of several restaurants and a brewery, highly
recommended by Lael.

On the 18th, we had a leisurely drive to Seward, leaving Peterson Lake in Sterling, and seeing
the fly-fishing folk along the Kenai River, and a slew of outfitters along the highway. Mark said
there were markedly fewer fishermen this year, compared to two years ago, with barely room for
him to park and fish himself. It was also dip-netting for king and sockeye, so that may account
for different locales of alternate snaggings. Seeing the mountains close to the highway and
community, with roads accessing mountains and trails around Resurrection Bay, made visible
Lael's earlier description of the difference between Seward and Homer. In the latter, one must
boat to anywhere across the bay to enjoy those areas.

Mark's smaller campground by the water was full, so we temporarily took a site with all the
crowded RVs down the road. When we drove to town for lunch, however, and passed the
original place, there was an opening, so I claimed it in a chair, while he went to retrieve the utility
trailer left behind, and here we sit, overlooking the bay, with more space and much fewer and
quieter neighbors.

Lael's friends coffee house
 

After lunch at Ray's by the marina, we visited Lael at his home up the hill from the main road. It
is a cozy house, with a view of one of the multiple glaciers, from his front lawn and living room
window. He is one of the sweetest, gentlest, intelligent and most creative young men known,
and his life-style and home reflect these qualities. There are four hens he has nurtured and will
give to friends, with definite personalities; although the alpha girl is also the one who allows
herself to be hen-pecked by the others. Lael ordered a special guard contraption from some
company, made out of a red, calico printed potholder with straps attached to put around her
wings, and I guess it works, and what's her name doesn't mind, after the initial wrestling to
install it. Because he is moving to Anchorage in September, to live with Marah, his veggie
garden is reduced from several to one box with kale, chives, lettuce and something else.
He has created tasteful and functional kitchen cabinets out of older and more "cluttered"
designed ones, has a piece of art in a bathroom one, with a concentric circle, which he'll take
with him. It was somewhat unreal to be introduced to his fabulous, master pieces of furniture,
some award-winners, in his sparse, packed-up living-room and bedroom, just sitting there with
no special lighting and staging that these deserve. Lael creates almost three-dimensional
geometric visions in his wood-working of fine art, has sold some, and a gallery in Anchorage
houses another. His website, laelgordon.com, is impressive, and his work needs more
exposure to those who appreciate and can afford to own pieces.

 

That night, we had dinner at his favorite place, The Cookery, downtown, which is a tapas-styled
eatery. His friend is one of the chefs there. Ambiance was stream-lined, with the original dark
and carved bar, lightened up with a light wooded counter and simple wooden and tarnished
metal stools; modern, round, simple goldish light fixtures above the light pine tables, with
colorful wooden chairs. Incredible small plates of my favorite with marinated mushrooms on
toast, a luscious duck pastrami with peach salsa, meat loaf with potato salad, mussels with
potatoes in a light creamy sauce, all with a hearty and chewy bread, and a tomato tapenade,
especially to sponge up the sauces, prosecco and beer. Dessert was cream cheese ice cream
with raspberry sauce, with their own cured warm bacon pieces, and a crepe with lemon-butter
sauce, that was reminiscent of Yorkshire pudding, accompanied by full-bodied decaf via French
press. All was eaten and shared family-style, topped off with an easy stroll around main street.

 

 

Sunday was sunny with no clouds. Lael picked us up at 11, and took us for a 5 mile beach hike,
through woods, over bridges on creeks where salmon were spawning. At the trail's beach
entrance, we met a man and woman, afterwards Lael describing them as two of his best friends
in Seward, which was super! Emily, a nurse, knows someone in Sandpoint, who I know from
yoga and mutual friends, and will relay greetings. Mamoud is one of two buddies Lael hangsout
with consistently, and he works at the salmon hatchery. As we passed them picnicking on
the rock and black sand, they were sharing a meal with a flask of tequila, which was chuckled
about. The three of us walked further down where we were alone, sat and ate our PBJs, turkey
sandwiches, fruit and trail mix, basking in sunshine and comfortable, easy conversation.
Lael said farewell, will do his Jack-and-Jill softball game later, and may have gone to Anchorage
that night. We'll rendezvous there, if it works out, when we leave Seward tomorrow. We got the
chairs out by the water, read and enjoyed the peace.

 

 

Today, we walked about 2 miles to the Major Marine Tours, where our 7.5 hour fantastic boat
ride began on Orca Song. John was the NPS ranger, with a robust baritone, animated voice,
who educated us on the PA system, as well as visiting all throughout. This is his fourth national
park placement, Tennessee was the previous, and he would like his next assignment to be
Maine. There was a young, fun crew of four, the Captain Krank, first mate Ryan from Lewiston,
ID, and two food gals, all very helpful and a joy in serving us 50+ passengers.

 

 

The trip included viewing two glaciers up close, Holgate and Aialik, with multiple aquamarine
ones nearby, and all forming from the hub of the Harding Icefield. The wind and cold from these
magnificent, hundreds of years-old masses, shifted us into warmer layers of clothing, and the
icebergs and smaller ice-floes were trailing in the grey silted waters, bordering the consistent
blued. Mild calving of ice falling from the fields were witnessed. I wondered how close the one
present sailboat could get, and if the two sailors worried about a large ice fall, creating huge
wakes.

 

 

Mark asked if my expectations were fulfilled with this tour, and I did not have any, but hoped to
see whales. No disappointments here, since the conscientious and great spotter of a captain,
sighted and then maneuvered us close to a huge pod of orcas, with a calf breaching and
frolicking multiple times (one female staff said this was the first orca breaching they've seen).
There were several families, with up to five in one group, with the tallest fin seen. In between
otters (there was a ring of five and individual ones), sea lions on rocks, puffins flying and
perching on cliffs, porpoises driving alongside, Capt. Krank spotted a humpback whale a mile
and a half away, and propelled us over for an amazing show. There were several of them, but
one continued to breach, starting with half-body and waving one barnacle-covered white fin, and
then breaching full bodied continuously, even as we left him or her. The ranger and captain
shared no one really knows why they breach, and that it may be for pure fun and joy!
Passengers of a mother with her two adult sons and I were whooping it up with each acrobatic
leap (Mark stayed on the upper deck), waving to the fin, feeling awe-struck and happy.

After this outrageous and satisfying experience, Mark and I walked over to the third Lael recommended restaurant, Chinook, at the marina, for dinner. He had a great grilled salmon with
quinoa (the waitress asked the chef, and reported he prepares it with ginger, garlic and mayo,
for a fragrant delicious flavor, that even Mark said he enjoyed), and I had sable, which turns out
to be butterfish, one of my favorites at Japanese restaurants, with brown rice and asparagus.
To get back to "M" we took our time walking along the water, through the campgrounds and
parks. We were hot and tired by all the wonderful stimuli, and ready to "chill," cool-off from the
mainland heat today. I meditated in the breeze and shade, then joined Mark outside by the bay
in our chairs. Another long, cute otter entertained us and others out for the night, making
himself into a rolling ball, and then spreading himself long on his back, with those adorable feet
and paws saluting the air.

Bedtime, and I trust the new neighbors, consisting of five young guys with one older, long and
white-haired gentleman, will go gentle into this good night. Sounds like a bachelor party of
sorts, and they are loudly and affectionately swaggering into town for karaoke now. All is well.

Peterson Lake

July 17th

This was an initially lazy day for Mark and me, possibly chalked up to a week of socializing with
loved ones, after not for a month; although it was a great time with the God-Family, and did my
heart good for them to meet Mark. Coffee and half the shared cinnamon roll in bed, latter from
one of Mark's fave bakeries in Soldotna, The Moose Is Loose. I kept dozing off from reading,
with the sun's rays shining down on me from the sunroof. Finally, at about 10, I forced myself to
get movin', get hygiened and dressed. Then, it was the guy's turn to doze for an hour on the
sofa, sitting up, while I perused the emails and facebook, read.

 

We laugh at our lethargic moments, knowing we will perk-up with getting our feet and butts
outside, so we lunched on turkey thinwiches and chocolate b'day cake, and went for a three
mile hike. Part of the hike was bush-whacking to another lake, and I've learned to trust Mark's
navigational instincts and skills, since mine are pretty wacko, oftentimes. Lucy is another
direction master in the family. It was breezy and rainy occasionally, but dry during our outing
along two lake trails, the latter leading to a sweet, beautifully constructed cabin, this national
wildlife refuge provides in addition to a rowboat for the occupants' use. The current residents
motored their own to dock and stay. I thought this would be a fun activity for the Bocheneks'
someday, when they get their potential A-frame trailer.

Back at "M" we both felt rejuvenated, not slug-bugs anymore. Again, this retirement is lovely for
long indulging reading, which is how I have spent most of this 17th, and Mark too, in addition to
working on his photos and reading emails. Christine, one of his daughters, got to wed her
sister-in-law, Clint's sista, in CO, this last week, as a surprise to their parents. Stiners has her
Universal Life Church fun credential (or something equivalent to) to do such joyful events, and I
am sure she is fabulous and playful.

Great tasty pasta dinner tonight, wind picking-up at 7:30 p.m., but with large swaths of blue and
sunshine, with encroaching grey clouds coming this way. Malala pulls at me throughout the day,
and her account is so educational about the middle eastern history and its tug-of-wars
throughout the last fifty years between nations, the shifting of allegiances, including our own and
with the Taliban. Hoseini's historical fictions of A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Kite Runner,
were other novels that brought much clarity and understanding of the Muslim faiths, splits and
cultural changes with every invasion and ruler.

Tomorrow, we see Lael in Seward, dine and hike with him, until he returns to Anchorage,
possibly on Sunday night, to oversee the groundbreaking of his shop-studio being built, at
Marah's home, which will also become his in September. On Monday, we'll do a 7.5 hour, park
ranger boat tour, for glaciers and sea life; hopefully seeing some whales. After that, we'll head
to Anchorage, spend the night with the Bocheneks' and head back towards Idaho, with about
another month's travel plan worth of new and former sights and adventures.

On to Peterson Lake

 Mona

July 16th

Both Vick and I did not sleep well last night, so it was a slow wakening morn. Thinking I was
tired last night, after reading Malala until 10, went to bed, and then my mind raced. Sourcing it
to the half cup of real coffee I treated myself to, at 4, to make the bread pudding go down
smoothly, reconfirmed to my memory that I cannot do that anymore. Caffeine effects me so
strongly now, that even chocolate at night keeps me suffering and awake til 3 a.m. or later.
Sometimes I cheat, will not accept the fact, and take a melatonin or benadryl, to adhere to
quality of life treats, but I am now a chemical woos.

Mark came to fetch me and to visit with Vick, at 10:30, and gave us space to share teary goodbyes,
hugs and kisses with eachother. It is always sad leaving her, a sister to me since we were
in Humboldt days together, at 20 and 21 y.o. She is Max and Lucy's God-Mama, and I am Lyra
and Lael's. We have made it a fairly consistent ritual to rendezvous on the Big Island most
years, for two or three nights, during my annual family visit to Honolulu; although this last year,
she was not feeling well enough to travel. This Alaska trip was, actually, Mark's idea, as was the
two month duration, which I had to wrap my world around, and realized I had no strings to keep
me from doing so---kids are raised, self-maintaining home-front, footloose and retired. He
knows Vicky's importance to me, and she was the original intent for our trek.

We will be on the road for another month, which is another brain-wrap for me, and also
reassuring knowing we have another 30 days or more. Just outside of Soldotna, we've returned
to another of Mark's boondocking camps, where he stayed for two weeks four years ago, and
five days, two years ago: Peterson Lake. It is amazingly not populated, considering the beauty
of the lilly-padded and forest-rimmed water. A caravan of three families, who had fished the
Kenai River for the second season of king and sock-eye salmon, pulled out a couple hours later,
so we snagged Mark's spot. Winds are 14 MPH, rainy and wonderful to feel "M" being shaken
occasionally, and to listen to the lulling drops on the roof.

We'll fish and hike tomorrow here, and then head to Seward on Saturday, where we have boat
reservations with a park ranger, for marine life and glacier sitings, a 7.5 hour cruise. Several
folks highly encouraged me to do this specific tour in Seward, if we can afford one on this trip.
Lael, my god-son, lives here, and we are anxious to view his fine woodwork studio and
renovated house. We will dine with him Saturday, and then he wants to take us on a hike
Sunday, before he returns to Anchorage that night, to oversee the beginning of his new studioshop.

In September, he moves in with his partner Marah, a pediatrician for a tribal hospital, who
travels to other villages, as well. He gets to focus on his fine furniture creations and work on her
house. He leaves teaching at the Seward community college for this new chapter.

Mark and I are both relaxed and fatigued, enjoying the sounds of nature's home.

Mark's Deep Creek Adventure

Mark July 16

 

I (Mark) went to Deep Creek for a few days so Mona and Vickie could have some "Girl Time" together.  It's been a lot of fun watching the two of them the last few days.  Every once in a while they revert to being adolescent girls again.  And with me gone they could spent time talking and doing girlie things without a guy hanging around.

 

Deep Creek is another one of my favorite little spots in Alaska.  You can camp right on the beach.  The big draw for me is the eagles that like to hang around there and pick up the halibut scraps left by the charter fishing people down the beach.  Here's just a few of the pictures I took.

 

 

It was amazing how the yearling eagle just sat there and let me take pictures of him.  I got well within 50 feet and he didn't budge.  And then there was the eagle protecting his salmon from the seagulls.

 

 

Finally he got tired of the whole thing and just flew off with his fish.  You could just hear the seagull saying "Dang!"

 

I've had the View motorhome for several years now.  The View motorhomes are built on a Mercedes Sprinter chassis.   There are several user group websites with all kinds of interest facts things dealing with the motorhome and their owners.  Two of the sites, Sprinting Singles and Views to Alaska are ran by a lady from Des Moines Iowa names Mary.  Mary also is an amateur radio operator and we have emailed and texted each other several times over the past few years.

 Mary also has been traveling around Alaska this year with two of her friends, Brenda and Wanda, who also have RV's and are from Des Moines.  Turns out one night they had posted that they were camped just down the road from Deep Creek and Clam Gulch and were heading to Homer.  I replied they should stop at Deep Creek but figured they were too far past already.  To my surprise and delight they stopped and spent the night.  What fun meeting the three of them.  It was especially nice to finally meet Mary. 

 

 

I also met up with them again on the Homer spit for a few minutes while riding my bicycle.  By looking at the BBQ you can tell they travel in style!