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July 18, 2008
Packing Up
I have been unable to get online for days, and now that I have once again found the elusive signal, I have learned that this will be my last chance to post from the beach at Coffee Point as the folks who generously let me steal their signal are packing up shop tomorrow noontime.
I am happy to report that the fishing is done for the year. We are in the process of pulling the ropes and washing the pulleys, putting the trucks on blocks, storing all the food inside the bearproof metal shipping container, readying the skiff to survive the winter storms, boarding up the windows, washing all the rain gear, and making long lists of supplies to ship up on the barge for next year.
We've been doing our best to steer clear of grizzlies, actual ones, which have been prowling the premises with increasing frequency of late. Poor Bob came out of the outhouse the other day only to surprise a bear coming out of the alders about 20 feet away. Neither Bob nor the bear were particularly interested in spending much time in the company of the other, and neither lingered long contemplating the situation, Bob scurrying quickly back to our cabin and the bear hurrying back into the thick of the alders, where bears are more welcome.
Still, fresh tracks lace our driveway every morning. As we come and go throughout the compound we shout or sing to remind the bears that we are coming.
And speaking of bears, Marcy of the rottweiler/grizzly controversy, has returned to Chestertown and has emailed me the following photo as evidence to support her case. The footprints in question are, indeed, those of a grizzly bear. Marcy contends that they are the prints of the beast that startled her and Alden while walking that fateful day. I turn the matter once again to the court of public opinion.
I will post more stories and photos when we return, and may even post a movie of the extraordinary explosions we witnessed the other night when veteran fisherman and demolitions expert Pyro Dave detonated 8 cardboard boxes full of dynamite and 10 buckets filled with gasoline. It was loud. And bright. And riveting. Not much happens up here, so things that blow up are prime time entertainment.
For now, I leave you with a photo of my child, posed, per her grandmother's request, to imitate the pose of the Sumo Soap Seiko got for her birthday. I think the likeness is uncanny. Perhaps we have discovered the child's calling.
Check in again on Friday night when I will post from the airport at Anchorage. We have an 18 hour layover to endure.
Posted by ribbu at July 18, 2008 08:27 PM