Derby leader and $1,000 first place for the month of May is Tom Barkman with his 170-pound halibut, caught on a private boat, the Nadine II, with Capt. Jerry Saunders
http://homernews.com/stories/052009/outdoors_3_032.shtml
I’m coming for YOU, Tom. You can’t hide. My fish will kick your fish’s ass, guaranteed.
Winter in Alaska- a time to cozy up by the fire, listen to the blowing wind lashing the eaves, watch the aurora borealis, ponder how dead you are if the heat goes out, hang out in coffee shops, and an excellent time to blog. Just one problem- not much to blog about.
Summer, however, is go-time. The sun is up (all effing night) , it’s “warm”, it’s fishing season, the animals are up and about, and the tourists are hungry. I generally work every day in the summer, getting up about 3:30am to cook breakfast, wrapping up about 6, then am off till 5pm or so, when I cook dinner. That’s usually wrapped up by 9 or so. Between breakfast and dinner, and sometime dinner and breakfast, I try to cram in as much summer living as possible, whether it be fishing, clamming, hunting, hiking, or just grabbing a sandwich and going down to the beach and watching the volcano belch and the waves roll up. I generally spend as much time as possible outdoors, just ’cause you can’t in the winter.
Unfortunately, this leaves little time for blogging. I’m going to try to get on here and post something at least once a week, but we probably won’t see daily posts until this winter/fall. I am taking notes and doing journal entries so that this winter I can blog all about this summer.
Sorry if this disappoints, but I’m here to live the life, not write about what I wish I was doing.
Well used to the terrified screams of dishwashers,
I hardly batted an eye when the ululating shriek rang out. Sitting there, thinking to myself ” I didn’t burn that stockpot THAT badly”, I heard the screams transform into a stream of invective that would have done a seven-hash-mark Marine Master Gunner proud. While the sight of a sweet little 14 year old girl cussing like a broke syphilitic sailor cracks me up, part of the crappy deal with her parents that allows her to work there and save me from dishwasher hands requires me to monitor her comportment and adjust it accordingly. Unlimbering my 2×4, I headed to the kitchen to get the mule’s attention.
Arriving in the kitchen, I found Master Gunner Hello Kitty pointing out the back door and gabbling like a gut-shot turkey. Looking out the door, what do I see? A pair of adorable brown bear cubs digging something up in the back 40. I look at at the girl like she’s nuts; a native Alaskan, she explains to the retarded adult that where bear cubs are, big bad-tempered mommy-bear is sure to be, too. We never did see mom, but I got a few pics of the cubs. They are kinda crappy due to the fact it was twilight (about midnight, this time of year). Enjoy.
So, it’s still the slow season here on the Scenic Kenai Peninsula, so my boss James decides he wants to go black bear hunting. He’s in it for the rug, I’m sitting around with my thumb up my ass with little to do, and I want to makes some bear sausage, salami, and pepperoni, so we get out a map.
Volcano Watch
