Plane Ride

So yesterday I got to ride in the Heli to the Moraz where I was able to see some brown bears from the plane. We crossed Lake Iliamna and let me tell you that lake was huge! I mean it seemed like a ocean getting across it in that little float plane. We could see some fresh water sea lions and a caribou in the tundra. When flying over the Moraz, I saw a lot of bears charging after the sockeyes that were just everywhere. I mean there was just so many of those fish I could not believe it. You could just reach in and grab them with your "bear hands;)"
Anyways, when we landed on funnel creek, I hopped out to go get the boys and was amazed when I looked at the river up close. There was just so many salmon and the crazy thing is, they just turn red spawn and then die up there. The guys aren't even fishing for those things. Their going after trout.
Today we went up the Taz and I caught a grayling and Chris caught a few trout. Oh, and I got to try driving the boat!

The smoke came in this morning, the fires from interior Alaska have been billowing down the range, making an erie scenery, prefect for the set of Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow. The last few days have been beautiful. I collected about a pound of blueberries in the tundra and stumbled upon a King Bolete (there are three types of boletes on the back trail here that I have stumbled upon and been able to identify, the Birch Bolete, Orange Birch Bolete and the much loved King Bolete). I cooked up the King Bolete for lunch and Liza waited for me to get sick, thinking that I had picked the wrong one, but knowing it instantly when it caught the corner of my eye there was little fear that it was the wrong one.  It was in fact very delicious and, no, I did not get sick. I've been able to take a few nice swims which I will be doing today after I'm done typing this up and a few short jogs here and there.

What else, you ask? Oh the usual, writing, painting, guitar and the like of creativity that comes flowing through me finger tips and is channeled by the unseen force The Muse, her fickle but yet conducive satisfaction that she gives to those that persistently nag her for attention. I did recently, Friday night, get into slight trouble with those at the lodge.

The night began like any other. The possibility to watch a movie was suggested, I looked long and hard at me story I've been writting (a piece of fiction that reminds me of a decent try at a Tom Robbins novel), painting yet another picture of the lodge for John the caretaker, but I left all these projects to try and make phone calls to see if anyone out there in the world would talk to me but it never happened. 

As I walked into the lodge late Friday night I was caught off guard by Captain Kirk's over abundant presence. He had started early with whiskey, as he had failed to make it to dinner that night. The clients were leaving in the morning and Kirk had decided the few days sobriety needed to be washed away. I had also had a beer that night that was left by one of the guest. Beer is a commodity that is few and far between for me. Yes, I probably could have the beer in the bar, but it seems like a waste of time and empty calories. Its not like having one of my home brews with a friend or trying a new beer from a independent brewer or something, beer is just a drink that is here to fuel the Captain's mouth into motion. 

To say the least, I was interested in seeing what it was like hanging with the Capt. when he got into one of his moods. Story after story of fishing, hunting and flying came out of his mouth strung together with prefect belligerent elegance that the time began to pass with little notice. It was rolling on 3 am and Captain advised me that instead of cutting the night short, I was obliged to finish the night off with him. It was hard for me to protest. He was my boss and it was fun to listen and converse with him, but I sensed that the crew would be very anger at me in the morning. 

I was in fact being an enabler by sitting and indulging Captain's ego by letting him soak in nostalgic memories of the lodges previous days, stories about bears, UFO's, Mt. Douglas, his mentor, mountain goat hunts, wolfs and his comforting words about Lakota. It was five now and I knew this was not good.

To say the least, Chris and Liza were pissed. Chris at me and Liza at Kirk and most likely me though she wouldn't admit it. But I have to say, it was a lot of fun! I mean, the stories and the atmosphere was just to cool. I love the lodge here and the people, with little "buts" involved. Pretty fun, I really just hope in time they forgive me even though it was totally worth the anger. 

Lets just say it sort of reminds me of a science experiment. Those group test they preform on individuals to see how they behave in isolation or confinement with others. I'm wondering how I'm doing or how I appear to be doing to the observers. Do they think I'm a loon? The weakest link or am I the stable rock they'd cling to if things got messy? Am I the problem solver or the problem creator? 

Its difficult to self analyze for when I do try and figure it out, where I stand that is, because once I get passed "do they not think I'm doing a good job?" I realize its all probably just nerves and annoyances. I get the job done and I try not to bug anyone to much.

The wind hasn't really let up. Its claim in the morning and then windy by noon. The jogs have been getting less because the rain has muddied up the trail and made it very dangerous to run on. I've almost twisted an ankle twice now. I've been doing cartwheels in the lawn and stretching like I did in the good old dance of Jazz and Tap. 

Last week, Chris, John and I were left at the lodge for five days. To say the least we made it out the other end with out killing one another or burning down the lodge.