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.