Home Sweet Home

Retirement from the workplace does not mean retirement from dealing with the challenges that day-to-day living brings. Granny used to say growing old is not for sissies. Granny was right. If you’ve been following our journeys this summer you know we have had a few unexpected opportunities to deal with the unexpected, the unplanned for. We set aside today to begin resolution of some of those unexpected happenings and to take care of some routine matters. With big plans for the day we rose early and breakfasted.

To take care of most of our pending business we needed to go to Anchorage but before setting off I made a few business calls.

Driving to Anchorage takes a two hour bite out of the day. For that reason we wanted to get a lot of our to-do list taken care of. About one mile from our campsite we slowed for a black bear to cross the road on his way to the river. I'm sure he was after a breakfast of salmon.

Our first stop was Fine Line Auto Body and RV Repair. The owner, a small slight built man with a receding hairline and a bald spot at the back on his head, was working in his shop when we entered the front door. We could hear him drop his tools and head for the office as the door chime announced our arrival.

Mark has a clipped precise alto voice. He seemed to listen impatiently as I told him our problem and asked if he thought could repair the panel. Of course he wanted to have a look before committing himself. We walked to the toad, got the pieces and laid them out on the ground. He looked at them and then knelt down and fidgeted with them before going back into the office and his ten key adding machine. As he punched away I hoped his price would be reasonable since the recommendation from Progressive had been very glowing.

When the tape on the machine grew still he looked up and announced that he could repair the panel for about fifteen hundred dollars. Before the "dollars" were out of his mouth I was shaking my head. I told him I had checked with National and I could get a new panel and graphic shipped to Anchorage for five hundred seventy five. There would be no repairing this panel. We just get a new one. I gave him the info from the coach and he faxed National with the request. While we waited we talked fishing. He was closing his shop next week for his annual week of fishing for reds. It was a family affair with thirty or forty people camped near the river. It sounded like one big party with cookouts and a keg of beer. The fishing would be great and they would all get their limits. A little mental math told me if the limit was three they would end the week with at least six hundred thirty reds. That is a lot of fish and filleting and skinning. We would like to just have our six a day. Onie began questioning him about his secret spot. I listened as she gently coaxed the location out of him. At the end he drew her a map of how to get to his "secret". As he handed it to her he asked that we not advertise the spot so it would remain uncrowded. We agreed to. In the car we looked at the map before setting off for Tire Center Incorporated or TCI as the locals refer to it.

TCI is in an industrial complex on the far side of town. We were learning Anchorage; perhaps better than we wanted to. Upon our arrival I went in to see what could be done about the blown out tire and the coach panel. After a short wait I talked to Jim, the manager, an affable young man with thinning red hair. He took a look at the tire and told me he could replace the tire for me at no charge. As far as the damage to the coach went he needed to talk to Michelin about that. He got some info from me and promised to call me as soon as he had talked to Michelin. I thanked him for his help and went back to the toad and Onie. I asked the navigator for our next stop. That would be the Subaru dealer. We needed some new wiper blades as well as service on a recall item.

Continental Motors, the Subaru dealer, is on Old Seward Hiway, back toward Cook Inlet. Anchorage, at 270,000, is The Big City by Alaskan standards and their mayor is doing his part to uphold the big city image. Did I mention that all big city mayors are brothers in their actions? Today we had found street construction or repair at just about every turn. Onie tried to steer us away from the congestion created by it; there was no escape. We just took a little tour of the construction areas and then went back to our original route.

The Subaru dealer here is probably the one Subaru shows to prospective dealers. The dealership is as big or bigger than Ford or Chevrolet and the facilities are newer. New cars abound and so do the customers. Subarus are everywhere. The service department was huge and crowded. I waited my turn to talk to a service writer. He smiled nicely as he told me he could do the recall work in a few days. He explained the recall work wasn’t anything that was going to create a dangerous situation for us. The work will take an hour and he suggested I bring the car in early, 7am, so I could be in and out without ruining our day. I explained we are on the road and he said if I would give him a day or two notice he would schedule me so I would have no wait. I thanked him as he handed me his card then headed to the parts department to get the wipers. We ended up with an air and oil filter and no wiper blade refills.

Best Buy was our next stop. A second battery for Onie’s laptop would be nice for when we are boondocking and can’t run the generator. Three sales people in Best Buy gave us three answers; Best Buy doesn’t handle what we need, an S video cable with a double connection for the TV, but we might get it at Radio Shack, there is no such thing and the third guy had no idea what we were talking about. Just another reminder of why I love Best Buy. Disgusted we were out of there. What a waste of time.

The Forester was filthy outside. We had washed it in Fairbanks but not since then. We passed a place where a young lady was holding a sign "Meet Miss Alaska" and get a car wash. We pulled in and got in line. I thought Miss Alaska looked fourteen, fifteen max, Onie said probably twenty. She was pleasant and visited with us a minute, asking if we were really from Texas and how we liked Alaska. A guy was taping our visit. Maybe someday we would be on local TV. We made our ten-dollar donation, to help defray her travel expenses to Atlantic City, so she could compete in the Miss USA Contest.

At Wal-Mart we got out to shop and we inspected the car wash job. Perhaps if we had donated twenty we would have gotten the whole car clean. As it was it was half clean. Well, it was a little better than it had been. On the other hand we sure wouldn’t be rooting for Miss Alaska come the big contest. Come to think of it she wasn’t that good looking anyway. We made our contribution to the local economy in Wally World and then headed to Don Jose’s.

Back in a booth we let our taste buds and sense of smell transport us back to Texas, again. Chips and salsa were delicious along with our drinks. Then came the calamari appetizer followed by Halibut fajitas, which were out of this world. Don Jose’s smelled so good we were reluctant to leave but we finally did and headed for Fred Meyer to grocery shop.

The day was beginning to grow long so we pretty much stuck to our list. The posted price for yellow onions was $1.99 per pound and no green onions were to be had at any price. We passed on the onions and checked out.

Lack of onions prompted us to stop at Carr’s. What a fortuitous stop. Carr’s had yellow onions for .69 per pound. I think we bought about eleven pounds as well as some green onions. Yes, we are onion lovers if you didn’t know.

Now we turned towards home. We’d had a big day and were ready for bed. The two-hour drive passed uneventfully as we reviewed our day and planned for tomorrow. At 11:30 we turned off the ignition key and the toad was at rest and we were home.

The stuff that had to be refrigerated was stored. The rest of the groceries could wait until morning before we put them away. It was still daylight but we turned in anyway.

Writing occupied me as soon as we were out of bed. Onie tried to best her current score on spider before preparing pictures to go into week seven. I got week seven wrapped up, on a floppy and to Onie so she could put it on her laptop, proof it, massage it, put in pictures and get it ready for posting to the website.

All this brain activity gave us big appetites so we had a Watermelon breakfast.

We tried to watch a DVD movie the other night and never could get the machine to read the disk. Onie called the Compaq support line to get some help. Between the two of us, I took over when Onie’s ear began to hurt; we were on the phone two hours. We were talking to folks in Madras, India where it was 2am July 13^th and it had been 115 degrees the day before. We uninstalled and reinstalled programs and did all kinds of things before being told what we knew, the machine wasn’t reading the disks. We were supposed to box up the machine and send it in for service or replacement. We passed and told them we would do that when we got back to Texas in September. We would do without the DVDs. Thoroughly disgusted with Compaq, we put them on our "Do Not Buy" list and moved on to other happier topics.

We discussed plans for the week when David would be joining us. When Tracy and Haley were with us our schedule read like a travelogue. When David was here it would read like an extended fishing trip.

We broke off our planning and I called and visited with my brother David before calling son David and discussing fishing plans and then called the Adams in Coldspring where no one was home.

Our patio had gradually been taking shape since we got here. We put out our awning, got our rug and the rest of our chairs out and settled in. Onie stayed home to enjoy the patio while I went out to research more fishing prospects. I visited the National Park information center where I tried to pick the ranger’s brain about fishing and then bought a couple of maps that show trails to lakes we had discussed. Then I went to Troutfitters to talk about an eight-hour float trip, on the Kenai, to fish for trophy trout and sockeye salmon.

Back home I called David Matthew again to relay what I had found out and then to make firm plans. When the details were decided upon we bade one another adios. I think he was as excited as I was about the upcoming week of fishing. We would hike to some mountain lakes and fish for Graying, Dolly Varden and trout. We would float trip for trophy trout, fish the Kenai for sockeye and take a halibut trip. By the end of the week we should smell like fish. We were certain we would have fish for months to come. And we would spend some time together, two men having a great time, father and son. The time together would bear no price tag, as it would be invaluable.

Onie and I picked the pictures that would go into the stories and then to the web.

Suppertime was upon us. We went to the patio for happy hour with cabernet sauvignon and Focaccio bread followed by salad, baked potato and grilled fillet mignons.

Satisfied with our productive day we relaxed in the coach with our books. Later, before bed, I would peck a little while Onie played spider.

Booking the float trip was first on my agenda this morning, that is right after breakfast and a few notes.

When I got back I set to work doing a little car maintenance. The weather was clear and warm, even hot for Alaska, as I changed the air cleaner and serviced the battery. While I was at it I brushed a few pounds of dirt off the engine, battery and other things under the hood. I would have liked to install the new oil filter but the park doesn’t want any mechanic work taking place. I suppose I could argue I’m not a mechanic. I could tell them I’m a Texas pecker. That should raise a few eyebrows but I would probably lose the argument nonetheless. The wiper blade refills I bought at a parts house didn’t fit so I had to put them back to exchange.

While I was busy outside Onie was hard at it inside cleaning house and putting things back in order. When you live in 300 square feet even a few things out of place makes the place look cluttered. We prefer neat to clutter. Our rugs manage to help attract a lot of the loose dirt. This is good but it also means they need frequent washing. Before quitting the housekeeping chores Onie did this. Then she brought them back and we laid them out to dry. In a couple of hours they were dry. How is that for hot and dry?

The clear weather makes the surrounding mountain ridges standout sharp as razorblades. I’ve tried to figure out why this is. I haven’t but have decided when I have good access to the WWW I will try to research this deep question and find a plausible answer.

It was time to settle down to our reading. The warm weather has brought out the local mosquitoes and black flies as well as the no see’ums. They were so bad while I was working on the toad that I finally broke down and sprayed some insect repellant on me. They left me alone. Now I sat outside on our completed patio and read. Onie was repellant free and elected to stay inside in the comfort of the recliner.

After a chapter or so I went in and made a few notes before relaxing with happy hour. The doc says some red wine everyday will help keep down our cholesterol levels. We always do what the doc says when we agree and we agree with this.

Seven forty five found both of us on the patio watching the shadows from the surrounding mountains grow long in our little part of the valley. We are actually getting some real darkness now, at night, but the evenings are still delightfully long.

Supper followed happy hour and then we picked up our books again. Later I made a few more notes.

When bedtime came we were both ready for the night’s rest.

Mark called from Fine Line with an update on the coach panel and Jim called from TCI. Things were moving along toward resolution. National was giving final cost figures and Michelin was asking for the blown tire to determine the cause of the failure. Jim told me he didn’t think they would pay for the damage to the coach but were certainly willing to replace the tire at no cost to us. I called Michelin and got the same story but they did agree to withhold their final decision until they examine the tire. Jim is sending it to them for their examination. I got out my "No Buy" list and underlined Michelin. They made the list, during the Iraq War, along with all other French products. They were right there next to the Germans. Next time Germany decides to invade France we should let them keep it. The German troops love marching in the shade of the trees along the Champs de Elysee and the French can learn to speak German. They deserve each other. One nation has no guts and the other thinks Reich mark is God Almighty.

We visited with our neighbors, from Washington, Robert and Carol. They went fishing this morning, fished six hours and didn’t even get a smell of a fish. They are nice folks, retired three years and married two. They probably aren’t near the fishermen that Onie and I are. Onie and I had been talking about going down to the river to snatch out a few and this was all we needed, a challenge. Anybody can catch fish when the river is full of them but to catch them when others can’t, well that is the true test.

The coach basement gave up our fishing gear and I spent an hour rigging up to fish.

The day was wearing on and Onie fixed supper. Then we settled down to watch a little TV. The local fare leaves a lot to be desired. There are only a few stations on the cable hookup but we watched some nothing show before giving up on it. Onie played spider and I tackled a few games of Vegas style solitaire.

By the time we went to bed the shadows were fading to black. We closed our door and slept in total darkness.

I still like to cook. I should do it more often and give the navigator a break. This morning I did that. Eggs, some leftover sausage, a little piece of steak and some secret seasoning made a reasonable breakfast creation. It was either good or we were real hungry because it all disappeared.

We read some more before I made a few notes while Onie played spider. When I finished writing last week she got it ready for the web.

The spawning reds had been given every opportunity to get past our fishing hole. If they hadn’t made it by tonight it was too bad. We were going out to play havoc with their population. We loaded the car and set off for Soldotna. On the way we passed, almost, the Chinese restaurant. It was suppertime so we buzzed in for a quick fix. Content for a little while longer we started again to the fishing hole. We had to stop at Fred Meyer for a few things. Onie got her fishing license; we got a new fish stringer, a bonker, a salmon net, more hooks and some household items.

Now the hour of reckoning had truly come. We headed for Mark’s secret place, Swiftwater City Park. It is a good thing this place is a secret. If it was well known we would never have found a parking place. As it was we got the last legal spot. We got out our gear and waited until some folks left the iron walkway on the river’s edge. That way we had a place to stand to fish. The ladies at the local beauty salon must keep this secret.

The fish had heard of our imminent arrival. I know this to be a fact because when we started fishing there was no fish. No it wasn’t that we weren’t catching any fish it was that no one was catching any. The word passed that Onie and Pawpaw had arrived to thin out the reds. When the locals got the word several more put up their gear and left the walkway. Now we had room to fish and we did. We fished. We didn’t start catching right away, after all it is called fishing, not catching. Only our friend Dolores calls it catching. When she phones she says "Hey, you guys want to go catching?" Now that is confidence. Does that mean she is a confidence woman?

We fished and were joined by some other foreigners, six guys from Washington state. Soon lines were tight and poles bent. Not every fish hooked was a fish caught as the cry went out "Fish On! Fish Off!" This is to let other fishermen up and down the walk know to watch out lest lines become tangled or that the fish escape.

We began fishing around nine. By midnight we had two fish. Gino and Nate, two of the guys from Washington were fishing on either side of Onie and me. They were making good use of our net and bonker. They were also offering some good advice about technique and explained that we were really trying to "line" the fish. This is where you pull the line through the water and when you feel it sliding through the fish’s mouth you draw it tight and set the hook. We did that enough that we ended our night, at 3am, with three keepers that weighed about twenty-five to thirty pounds, total. I caught one that I turned back.

It had a large gash on one side and was on the small side. The six guys from Washington had their eighteen fish, a limit for the group. They thanked us profusely for the use of the net and bonker. As an afterthought they also thanked us for allowing them to catch their limit. They could see that had we been on our game they would have had no fish. Feeling very magnanimous we headed for the toad.

When we got to the coach it was four, as in the morning. The sky behind the mountains was turning red as we took our fish in the house. We iced them down and then took ourselves off to a well-deserved night’s rest.

Seven hours sleep was enough to render us ready for another day of adventuring. The cool temperatures and cloud cover wasn’t the best thing to get us off to a fast start. We were still unwinding so we spent a little time with our books before we tackled the immediate chore, fish processing.

Filleting and skinning sockeye salmon before breakfast is probably not most folk’s idea of the best thing to do before showering or breakfast but that is what we had to do. So we did it. We both thought there must be a better way to handle this chore and we vowed to find a way if it was available.

Breakfast was finally completed at 3pm after which we read some more. Our minds were urging us to return to the river while our bodies were voting for the bed. The bodies won out and we headed back to bed. At ten o’clock our bodies gave the all clear signal and we got up again. It was back to the books with a glass of wine and some snacks. Onie finally gave in to the urge and played a little spider.

When the big hand was on the two and the little hand was on the twelve we turned back the covers and crawled back in bed.

Another strenuous day had been logged.

The weather is still cloudy and cool but the July rain is lacking.

Salmon croquettes broke our fast and then I settled down to do some serious catch up with my pecking while Onie got some things ready for email.

The call of the sockeye was strong this morning so after getting the pecking and email well under way we packed up and headed toward Soldotna, Swiftwater and our appointment with the fish.

Lest you think I was bragging the other day about our fishing prowess, pay close attention to what I’m about to relate. When we got to the river our lines were already rigged to fish. We took the iron-grated steps down to the river walkway and got down to business. On my first or second cast I landed a fish. While I was gilling and gutting this fish Onie yelled "Fish On". I netted it and returned to complete my work on the first fish. Just when I had completed that and was reaching for Onie’s fish she yelled "fish on" again and I netted number two for her before turning my attention to her first fish. Just as I was finishing that fish she yelled again and I netted her third and final fish, for the day. From the time she had started to fish, until I netted the last fish for her, fifteen minutes had elapsed. When I finished tending to her fish I got my turn.

Perhaps the heavy run had passed or I was slower than Onie or I lost more than she did but whatever the reason I was two hours catching my three keepers. When I got down to my last fish Onie went to Fred Meyer to pick up some needed items.

When she returned she brought ice for the fish. We iced them down and headed for the house arriving at one thirty and climbing into bed at two.

We felt we had a good day of catch up. I had done some serious writing, Onie had prepared some email and we had caught up on the Salmon.

The sleep came quickly and peacefully.