Sometimes You Want to Go Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Hey Family & Friends! It’s been three months since my last post. But you’ve got to believe me when I say that I’ve been writing to you and blogging in my mind every day. In the meantime, I’ve racked up some good stories: travel stories, local vignettes, and personal-growth(s) journeys. We’ll start with the most recent and work our way back.

A couple days ago, we had the privilege of entertaining our ol’ friends Nick and Karen Miniotis here in Ocean Springs, MS for a few days. A week and two days ago, we were saying our goodbyes to Nick and Karen after spending a few days with them in Eagle River, Alaska. WHAT?! Yes!! It was the ultimate noncontiguous progressive dinner party of all time.

Just as the one-year anniversary of our arrival to MS was approaching (July 17), we were packing to get out again: our Summer 2009 Tour Back North would take us to the two places I had once called home: Chicago, IL and Eagle River, AK. I had a couple days’ layover to spend in Chicago before Brian met me and we both flew direct from O’Hare to Ted Stevens--- Ahh, good Ol’ Ted Stevens Airport in Anchorage, Alaska. We staged our ten-day trip in four locations: Nick and Karen’s house in Eagle River, Kim and Dave’s House (our old neighbors in Eagle River), Kim and Dave’s pop-up camper along the Kenai River, and the Army Recreational Facility in Seward. Our mission: to visit the old house which Brian still owns; to catch up with friends and Alaskan Summer Ales; and to do some serious fishing. Before our arrival, the weather was unseasonably warm in the high 70s/low 80s, and the fishing report was better than ever! The Kenai River limit for red (sockeye) salmon was bumped up from three to six. As soon as we arrived, the temperature dropped 15 degrees and the fishing limit returned to three. It also rained every other day.

No ants at our picnic though. We had big plans and weren’t about to change them on account of the weather. Plus, the cold and rain were a breath of relief from the MS heat (at least that’s what I kept telling myself, especially while on our chartered halibut fishing trip when a huge wave splashed glacier-cold water down my waders. It’s Good Cold! Good Cold!). The first weekend, we spent camping with Kim and Dave along the Kenai River. Nothing like four friends communing with nature and not showering for 48 hrs. I felt bad for Buddy and Holly, their Labradors. It was a bad time to have a keen sense of smell.

Brian and I pulled on our waders Friday through Monday, but didn’t pull a fish out until Sunday at Resurrection Creek, where pink salmon (humpies) come in to spawn. They’re sort of the “easy-lay” salmon. Fun to catch, but you wouldn’t want to take a bunch home to mom. We spent Friday and Saturday on a quest for their more selective and tastier sister, the sockeye, but for all our efforts, caught nothing. Earlier, while we were shopping for camping groceries, Kim told me there’s an Alaskan superstition that if you plan a camping meal around freshly caught fish, you won’t catch anything. Now, we had a back-up mac ‘n cheese plan, but our garnishes and red-peppers with chipotle chilis in adobo sauces just wouldn’t be the same on mac ‘n cheese. Dave’s catch saved us from such a fate.

However, we weren’t shut out of wildlife! Almost ten bear spottings along the Kenai Peninsula, both brown and black bears. The young brown bears were splashing at each other across the river. They were super cute, until three of them came up from behind us while we were all waist deep in the Kenai River. We shouted and h’yawed at them so they’d move along, away from us. For some reason, “Go away, Little Bears” wasn’t as effective as the men’s gruff shouting. Still, it was “so” Alaska to see fishermen alongside bears, both focused on nothing but catching salmon, with eagles and gulls soaring above.

Sunday, we packed up the camp site, parted ways with Kim and Dave, and drove to Resurrection Creek for a few hours of easy fishing, then down to Seward to spend the night at the Army Recreation Camp in preparation for our 6 a.m. halibut and silver salmon charter. We booked our trip out of the Fish House and would be aboard the Aurora fishing vessel, dock H. All this we scouted out the night before. We went to bed early after a long, hot shower, and a nice meal at Chinook’s. I ordered halibut cheeks to get psyched for the next day’s mission. Before we left the dock, a customer with his visiting daughter and son-in-law was giving the captain a hard time. Many boats had not been able to go out far enough for halibut due to rough waves and poor weather. He waited and called and booked this trip just for halibut, so he told the captain, “You best be sure we’re gonna be fishing for some halibut,” (it was a bit much for 6 a.m.)… Later, half-way into the three and a half-hour choppy ride to the halibut fishing point, he was spewing his guts over the side of the boat. “Shoot for distance,” Captain Justin requested in the introduction spiel.

Brian and I each caught our limit for halibut (two each) and silver (coho) salmon (three each). I also caught a black rock fish, which is a kind of sea bass--- kicked his ass! Ugly SOB in a cute sort of way.

I looked into the eyes of each fish and said thank you before they were filleted by Deck-Hand John. Even helped bag some of the other parties’ fillets, because I’m hard-core and was certain I’d be sick if I sat in the stuffy cabin that now smelled like turkey sandwiches and the other eight people on our crew. Brian was more tolerant.

I won’t lie. This was our second time halibut fishing, but a lot more “work” than the last time we went. Eight hours is a long day with people you don’t know, especially when we still had another hour of fish processing and another three hours of driving back to Eagle River. We could have had our fish packaged and vacuum sealed by the Fish House for an additional fee, but we wanted to do it ourselves at the well-equipped Army Recreation Fish Cleaning and Processing Center. After all, we’re hardcore and cheap. Oh, and it was raining the whole time. I went through five shirts, two hoodies, a worthless windbreaker, and two pairs of pants. At least there was no shortage of daylight. And no shortage of learning experiences!

Lessons Learned:

1. When deciding on a fishing charter, bring twice the friends or book half the time/fish. If you want to spend 8+ hours catching fish with people you don't know, apply for a job or a position on Deadliest Catch.

2. Make sure your husband has eaten if it’s been eight hours since the last meal and you’re about to do something important with knives.

3. Don’t start the morning by bitching at your boat captain. You and your crew will never know if the outbound ride was really long and choppy, or if it was just that way by design…

4. If you’re designing squid-like fishing lures, call them something clever like “hoochies.” That way, fishing captains around the world can say things like, “You won’t get any action if you don’t jig your hoochie.”

5. Ladies: always have a pair of comfy pants on hand if you’re going to be fishing all day--- even if you think you’re protected by overall waders. Mark my words, should water spill inside, and all you have on hand to change into is a pair of tight jeans, and you have to roll them over cold, partly dried thighs in the public restroom while balancing on little pieces of toilet paper, you will be hating life.

Once we arrived back in Eagle River, I was done fishing for a little while. Despite the weather, we went golfing (were joined on the last tee box by Mr. Fox) and took separate trips to Girdwood/Portage Glacier and Talkeetna. The rain didn’t deter other tourists who flocked in by the Princess and Holland Tour busloads.

We had some fantastic culinary adventures too: besides campfire sockeye salmon and halibut cheeks, we had steak and Alaskan King Crab (thanks Kim and Dave!) and grilled coho salmon with fresh dill from the garden garnished with avocado, tomato, and lemon greek yogurt sauce (thanks Nick and Karen!). Our visit would not be complete without a meal at our ol’ favorite Eagle River pizzeria, Pizza Man, who thankfully still serves good brews on tap. We had a great time with good friends in Alaska and (albeit uber-brief) Chicago.

I even felt sadly nostalgic leaving Alaska for Mississippi (with three connecting flight). There was a lot to be nostalgic about. Brian and I spent our first year living together in Alaska. Even the flight from Chicago to Alaska with Brian by my side bought back memories of leaving a known life in Chicago for a wild life and love in Alaska. I’ve been sad leaving AK before, but that was because back then, I was leaving Brian. Brian was with me now. So why was I sad? I think it was for the memory itself, for the passage of time, for the things we looked forward to in MS and how much has already happened, mostly great life milestones like driving 5,500 miles across North America , buying a house, getting married, watching Brian’s girls grow up, cheering for a year’s worth of Danielle’s soccer games, helping Rachel with her college search, getting to know our Life in Mississippi, and figuring out my own place in it. Some things threw off our plans, like Brian’s best friend passing away. It felt good to reflect, even to be sad.

I needed that trip. We needed that trip. And to keep the “party” going, Nick and Karen arrived the day after we landed. They used to live in this area, and they had their own nostalgia to share, how much they enjoy the sound of frogs at night (no frogs in Alaska) and how happy they were to be stationed here after living in Wichita Falls, Texas for several years. We do our best to optimize our existence wherever we live, however long we live there. It’s not until we leave a place, that we feel nostalgic for it, even if it's combined with total relief for being over and done with the place. After revisiting where we’ve been, I feel like I can better appreciate where I’m at and get back to making Ocean Springs “home.”

This place is so unique in its own right. And for the first time in my life, I am looking forward to fall and winter more than any other season of the year.