June 30, 2008

Monday

BUSY BUSY DAY

It was a short night so we slept two rows at a time to make up for it.

David was up at seven thirty and headed off to the shower after turning on the coffee pot and stripping his bed.  Yours truly got up fifteen minutes later and stripped his bed and started the tea.  A few notes were made while it was brewing.

Breakfast of eggs, bacon and a muffin was eaten by David while the writer had a bowl of hot oatmeal.

Toting the laundry and shower stuff the writer headed off to the lodge to get the wash going and wash himself.

David was left packing his suitcase.

When the clothes had finished washing they were placed in the dryer.

Back at the Marlin David was busy surfing the web and answering email.

A little house cleaning was undertaken while the clothes dried.  Then they were folded and brought to the coach.

After loading the suitcase and making one last check to be sure David had all his belongings we set out in the truck for Anchorage, at twelve fifteen.

We stopped in Cooper Landing for lunch.  While we were there we talked to Onie to see when she and the girls would be in Anchorage.  They were currently just leaving Denali.  Remember they had been touring, making the Grand Loop as well as visiting Cheena Hot Springs, while David and I batched.  They would arrive in Anchorage late tonight.

Fed and watered we set out again, driving on to Bear Valley and the Begich Boggs Visitor Center at Portage Lake.  We stayed a while wandering through, looking at exhibits and listening to the sounds of Alaska as played on machines in the center.

We arrived at the Whittier tunnel at four thirty.  Waiting our turn we discussed the mammoth job it must have been to dig through the mountain, two and a half miles.  It was solid rock.  Two teams had worked, one from either side.  When they met in the middle they were five eights of an inch off from perfect alignment.  Considering they were working with manual transits the writer thinks that it was nothing short of a miracle.

After the tour buses had gone through it was our turn to traverse the tunnel.  The interior of the tunnel looks much like it must have just after completion.  Most of the walls are rough hewn rock and in several places water drips from the ceiling.  The road surface is mostly smooth and down the center runs the railroad track.  The tunnel is shared by trains, tour buses and regular vehicles including RVs.  Trains take precedent over all other traffic.  Traffic normally flows from Bear Valley to Whittier on the half hour, for fifteen minutes, and from Whittier to Bear Valley on the hour, for fifteen minutes. Each time we travel the tunnel it makes me wonder what happens inside of it in an earthquake.

Through the tunnel and in Whittier we parked the car and took a self guided walking tour of the business district, looking for ice cream shops as we went.  After an hour we discovered that although Whittier has less than eight hundred residents it boasts three shops selling ice cream.  We opted out of the soft serve variety and honed in on the good high calorie stuff.  David had a root beer float and the writer stuck with something call “Death By Chocolate Hot Fudge Sundae”, a delightful concoction sure to clog ones veins and arteries.

Somewhat fortified by our small, but well earned treats, we had walked at least two miles we got in the car to drive the rest of the town.  We went by the old military barracks, now deserted, and by the new high rise condo where the majority of the residents live.  Adjacent to it is the school which has no snow days even though Whittier gets about twenty two feet of snow a year.  During the school year the condo where the kids live is connected to the school by a covered walkway.  Ergo, no snow days. 

We were in the group of vehicles exiting at six o’clock and drove back out of Bear Valley to the Seward highway where we took a right turn and headed for Anchorage, again.

A very busy busy day was catching up with the driver so he stopped at Girdwood for a two liter coke and some candy.  David opted for more candy and no coke.

Before pulling back on the road we checked in with Onie and the girls.  They were in Talkeetna.

Rounding the Inlet we were greeted with one of the highest tides I had ever seen there.  No mud was to be seen anywhere. The evening sun lit the snow on the mountains as well as adding a twinkle to the wavelets on the water.

In Anchorage we made our way to Fred Meyer, on Muldoon, for the least expensive gas in town.  One can’t call it cheap although an argument may be presented at a later date to that effect.

We are proud members of the Moose Lodge in Anchorage and as such are eligible to stay overnight in their parking lot and hook up to electricity for five dollars a night.  We went there and checked in, taking the last electrical hookup.

The noon meal had long since been forgotten and the ice cream and candy had gone to the bottomless pit young boys and old boys are known to possess.

Nearing people we would soon have to answer to for our dietary habits we went to Subway, at eight, where we each had a salad.

David’s flight back to hot Houston was scheduled to leave close to ten o’clock.  We unloaded his bags around nine and said our farewells.  The next time he woke he would be in some sweltering heat and the cool of Alaska would soon be forgotten.

At nine thirty the author was sitting in the Moose Lodge watching a baseball game on the big seventy two inch plasma TV enjoying a tray of free popcorn.  Every few minutes he got up to check for the arrival of the motor coach carrying the ladies and Haley.  At ten thirty they pulled in.

We soon had the RV parked and plugged in to the power.

A couple of suitcases were put in the truck to make room for one more person, me, in the coach.

A quick synopsis of the trip was delivered by the group and then we bedded down at eleven thirty.

It had been a busy busy day.

July 1, 2008

Tuesday

RETURN TRIP

It was time for the driver to prepare for the return trip to Castaway.

The distaff side rose at seven thirty and had cereal for breakfast.  They let me sleep a little longer and then I had pasta for my meal.  It was eat it or throw it out and it looked too good to throw out.

With everyone working everything in the coach was packed and transferred to the bed of the pickup.  When everything was loaded there wasn’t room for even a cat’s whisker so it was left behind, with the cat.

Tracy drove to the Shell Station, half a block distant, to fill the propane tank.  Then it was on to Clipper RV Rentals to return the coach and settle any details that remained open.  Tracy had a long list of broken and inoperable things which she shared with the lady checking her in.

At ten thirty we headed southwest out the Old Seward Highway.  Soon we joined up with the New Seward Highway and began the trek around Cook Inlet.  Multiple stops were made to take pictures of the snow covered mountains, the sun on the mountains, the sun on the water, the mud flats and of course eagles.

Remnants of life before earthquate of 1964.

Lunch time found us approaching Cooper Landing and the Cooper Landing Princess Lodge and RV Park.  A few years ago Onie and I had stayed at the RV Park and enjoyed all the amenities as well as their first class restaurant.  Today we stopped for another lunch. 

Setting in golden sunlight with a gentle breeze sweeping over us we ordered our lunches.  Haley had the fish and chips, Onie had a cup of clam chowder and a BLT, Tracy ordered bison chili while Diana opted for a burger.  The writer decided on a bowl of clam chowder.

With lunch over we were traveling again at two and with no more stops we reached Sterling at three thirty.  We drove on to Soldotna where we went through a car wash to rid the truck of several miles of accumulated dirt and grime.

Diana was interested in seeing the Soldotna Medical Center so we took a short detour by there before heading on to Fred Meyer for groceries and fuel.

By six o’clock we were home in camp.  We stopped at the lodge to get Tracy and Diana checked in to their room.  Haley would be staying in the coach.  Suitcases were placed in the room at the lodge and then in the Marlin.

Onie cooked while everyone tried to rest and settle in.  The truck and keys were returned to Kurt and a much deserved thank you extended.

While Onie cooked, the driver put the clean sheets on our bed and helped Haley get her bedding together.  She would be sleeping on the hide-a-bed in the couch.

We sat down at eight thirty to tomato and avocado salad. turkey in gravy, rice and broccoli.

By eleven we were all in bed.

July 2, 2008

Tuesday

ONIE IS HOME

Onie woke Haley at seven thirty.  She had to get ready to go on a glacier tour with Tracy and Diana.  They were to leave at eight.  When they were gone Onie came back to bed.

She was very tired as was I so we slept until ten.

We made coffee and tea, sat and visited about her trip and David’s visit, while the oven heated.  Onie is home and it is feast time again, biscuits, sausage, figs and Mayhaw jelly for breakfast.  We even got a crossword puzzle worked, the first one in days.

While yours truly tries to keep a clean house no one cleans house like Onie so she dove in and started a real cleanup.  She paused long enough to finish unpacking, placing her clean clothes in the drawers and the dirty ones in the clothes basket.

The writer did what he does best, stay out of the way and occupy the laptop.

It had been cold early this morning, twenty eight, but now with the clock nearing one the thermometer was pushing seventy.  Later today it would get above seventy but not much even though the sun shone in a cloudless sky.

David had undoubtedly prayed for warm weather while he was here.  It looked like is prayer had been answered, today.

By five our temp gauge was reading seventy five.  I’m not sure I believed it but it was warm in the sun.

Sitting outside we visited Kurt, Becky and Dennis.  Near eight we migrated to Sidney and Barbs where we stayed until nine thirty.

The girls go home a bit after ten.  Hellos and goodnights were said in the same breath as everyone headed for bed.

July 3, 2008

Thursday

ROD OVERBOARD

Not much of anything can persuade Blomstroms to get up at three in the morning.  We are, as a family, people who stay up late and rise late.  This morning was an exception as it was an occasion for one of those rare things for which we will rise early.  Tracy, Diana and I were going fishing, for halibut.

The writer got dressed and had a cup of tea, took some cold sausage from the refrigerator and munched on it while he finished loading the car.  Most of the required gear had been put in last night.

At three thirty sharp the girls came down the hill from the lodge.  Sleepy good mornings were exchanged and we were ready to get under way.

In Soldotna we stopped at “The Moose is Loose” hoping to get an early bear claw but they were still cooking   We left unsweetened but undoubtedly better off for having missed our sweet carbohydrate.

Some morning one can make the drive from Sterling to Homer and see not one wild animal.  Other mornings it seems the wildlife of the peninsula have congregated on the roadway.  This morning was one of the other mornings.  We counted twelve moose in the ninety miles from the camp to the Homer Spit.  Eagles were too numerous to count.

To make the trip even more pleasant there was not the faintest wisp of fog and the view of the Inlet and distant mountains was nothing less than spectacular.  Several times we stopped for pictures.

Halfway to Homer the sun began to rise and we stopped for another picture.

We stopped once again just before we began the descent into Homer.  Diana stood next to the welcome sign as Tracy snapped her picture.  The sun bathed mountains glistened in the background.

We had made good time and by six o’clock we were dressed for fishing and on the Solitude, ready for Larry to cast off and begin our trip.  He did.

The girls relaxed in the warmth of the cabin, it was threatening rain and cold outside.

The writer/driver/ soon to be fisherman, went forward to a vee bunk where he lay down and soon fell asleep.  In the cabin the warmth and gentle movement of the boat, it was fairly calm, soon overcame the girls desire to watch our progress and they too fell asleep.

Two hours later, at eight thirty, with a strong tide running, the Solitude began a drift over a hump that we hoped would hold some fish.  After fifteen or twenty minutes of fishing with three pound weights and no bites Larry decided to move on.  We made a short run and then let the anchor down to the rocky bottom.

Lines were lowered and in a matter of a few minutes a good steady bite began.  Now it was time to fight the fish, the three pound weight and the tide that was still running swiftly.  Fish were reeled to the top where they were judged to be too small for our efforts.  They were sent back to the bottom to grow up.

The rain that had begun falling while we slept, on the way out, showed no signs of letting up and in fact fell harder.  The rain gear we had donned a few minutes into the drift was keeping us dry but the cold, probably forty to forty five degrees was taking a toll on our exposed hands.  We put on our gloves.

The boat held steady at anchor even as the tide began to slow.  Directly astern Augustine could be seen, her head in the clouds and the rain and haze obscuring the steam coming from the lone open vent.

. 

Fish in the thirty to thirty five pound class were being landed on a regular basis keeping Larry and Larry, Jr. busy freeing fish and re-baiting lines.  As each fish swam back to the bottom our hopes soared over the larger fish to come.

The fight is on!

Our hopes leveled off when some rally ugly fish began taking the bait and were cranked on board.  The tide was nearing slack and the halibut bite had slowed to nil.  Our hopes now hung on the incoming tide which would start in a few minutes. 

Total tide fall today would be in the neighborhood of twenty six feet.  That meant that slack tide would be very short and when the tide did start running we would have an hour of fishing with two pound weights then it would be back to three pounds for an hour or less.  After that it would not be possible to reach the bottom with the bait and if one can’t reach the bottom one can’t catch halibut so the fishing would be over.

Big tide falls mean short fishing periods since halibut feed one to three feet off the bottom.

As this is being written it makes me think of Patty Rogers, our lovely sister-in-law in Louisiana, who loves to fish.  It would be great if one day she could experience the tug of a big halibut and the thrill of landing it.  Perhaps some day it will happen.

When the tide turned the halibut bite was quick in resuming but, and it was a very big but, the fish being reeled up were now in the twenty pound class.  We had thrown back bigger fish and were now beginning to wonder how smart we had been in giving these “small fish” back to the depths.  The cold and continuing rain were not contributing to elevating our spirits and increasing our hope of that “big fish”. 

Hands were becoming numb and fingers had long since lost some of their feeling.

Just when we were all despairing of catching a bigger fish there was what seemed like a strong bite, on the writer’s rod.  Unfortunately he had inadvertently set the reel on “reel” instead of “strike”.   When the fish took the bait and went south he also took the rod and reel, from the numb hands of the writer, south, with him.  The last glimpse the writer had of the seven hundred dollar plus rig was of the rod overboard and headed one hundred forty feet down.  Now the “big” fish had been lost along with expensive tackle.  Things were definitely looking down, and costly.

Larry never blinked but put a new rod in the numb hands of the angler and told him to hang on.  Gloom, despair and rain were falling all around when Tracy got a nibble and then a good bite.  It seemed perhaps she would redeem the boat with a good fish and it would be a trip to remember.  The struggle to get the fish to the top increased as it got nearer the boat.  She said it felt like a ton.  We were all hoping for a hundred pounds but would gladly settle for fifty.  As she got it close to the boat we saw a strange thing.  It had another line across her line.  A gaff was quickly retrieved and the line brought on board.

Larry began bringing in the line, hand over fist, when what to our wondering eyes should appear but not a halibut rod but THE halibut rod.  He handed it to the dumbfounded writer and said “I think your fish is still on, reel”.  I did.  The “big” fish was soon brought to the side of the boat.  It would be generous to say it was fifteen pounds but it didn’t matter to the writer.  He was grateful to have the rod and reel back and never thought once about releasing the fish.  Tracy’s was bigger anyway and we kept hers.

By now the tide was running in very fast and it was increasingly difficult to get to and stay on the bottom.  The fish that were caught would have to be kept to fill the boat’s limit, regardless of size.  Just before it was impossible to reach the bottom we landed our twelfth fish for the boat.

It was a tired bunch of fisherman, disappointed that the big one got away, glad we had recovered the rod and happy to be going in.

The catch!

 The sea going rod and reel had a piece of halibut line tied on it so it wouldn’t be confused with the others and could be sent out for a rebuild but it did hang on the overhead with the other gear.

It was one o’clock and yes the rain was still falling.

Inside the war, dry cabin raingear was stripped off and replaced with warm coats that hadn’t been needed with the exertion of fishing.  Tracy and Diana settled into a corner and closed their eyes.  They had worked hard.  This was Tracy’s second time out and perhaps she remembered a little about how the exhaustion sets in when the fishing is over.  It was Diana’s first time and it is certain she had to be just a bit surprised at how hard fishing can be given the fact that she is used to catching three pound Texas blue cats.

Dry, weary and happy the writer climbed the ladder to the flying bridge where he and Larry visited about fishing, the weather, politics, families and the odds of getting back a deep sea diving rod.

On the fishing deck little Larry was filleting the catch.

The rain didn’t follow us all the way to Homer but left us about three miles out where a pair of sea otters was resting in the small swells.

Backing into the slip at three thirty Larry cut the engines as soon as Jr. had a line on the dock cleat.

We settled up with Larry, thanked him and Jr. for a good time, put our bagged filets into our cooler and headed for the car.

Just after four we were sitting in the parking lot of the Safeway in Homer.  Diana was treating for latte and Chai tea.  The tea was very hot and refreshing.  We headed for home, almost.

Alaska, Anchor River to be exact, is the home of a remarkable man and artist, Norman Lowell.  We stopped at his gallery to visit with him and to view his magnificent works in oils, pastels and watercolor.  The hour we spent there was hardly time enough to walk through the place much less stand and savor the beauty of each painting.  Norman and his wife homesteaded in Alaska and lived in a cabin he had built with his own hands.  They had raised their children there.  As the years passed he had chronicled the passing years, on canvas.  He had also captured the amazing beauty of the Alaskan wilderness.  Now in his late years and battling eye problems he was letting those who choose to enjoy Alaska through his eyes.

When we resumed our trip home it was six and the rain was coming down again.

In Soldotna we took the Kenai Spur to Custom Seafood where the halibut would be processed, packaged and frozen.  We would pick it up Saturday morning before the girls head for Anchorage.

Eight o’clock found us home and saying our goodnights.  Everyone was tired.  The girls headed to the lodge and I sought comfort in the Marlin.

Too tired to eat I made a few notes, ate some nuts, drank a beer and went to bed.  It was eleven.

Drifting off to sleep it crossed my mind that our good friends Dolores and Gale Manning, both fishermen, would really enjoy a halibut trip and they would hold onto their rods.

HALEY AND ONIE GO RAZOR CLAMMING WITH KURT AND BECKY TATSUMI

Haley dawning her waders for the trek in the mud. "These are a little big."

Becky and Haley ready to go with Haley in her size 10 boots to accommodate the waders.

Becky giving Haley some instruction on razor clamming using a shovel.

Haley looking for "shows" (small round circles in the mud sometimes accompanied by a water spray) so Kurt can dig with the clamming tube. Kurt thought she was a great spotter.

"Ugh. I have to touch one of these things."

"Oh, this isn't so bad." Haley relaxes a bit as she retrieves a big razor clam.

Haley's really into this clamming by now. She helps Onie with spotting the "shows" and then digging with the tube.

"Voila" Another clam for the bucket.

Haley participating in rinsing the mud off the clams. A great dig--about 160 clams. And what fun it was! Even though we both got stuck in the mud--adds new meaning to "stick in the mud." No photos of this since we were too busy trying to get out!

July 4, 2008

Friday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA

America’s birthday in Alaska was ushered in by rain, all night.

Somewhat refreshed we rose at nine and made coffee and tea.  Tracy and Diana showed up soon after and we all sat down and enjoyed oatmeal and sausage.  A second pot of coffee was made as Onie usually drinks one by herself and we had company.

A Castaway tradition is lunch on the deck of the lodge, for the whole camp.  Today was no different.  Yesterday while we had been fishing Kurt and Sidney had been busy cooking six Boston Butts.

At noon people began to converge on the lodge and deck where tables and chairs had been placed earlier.

We went with our contribution of cold slaw.  With everyone bringing something there was quite a spread but with everyone eating it was soon reduced to a few leftovers.

The rain that had ushered in the day returned while we were eating.  When the meal was over, folks hustled back to their rigs to keep from getting wet.

Some things won’t wait for the rain.  Full holding tanks and lack of fresh water are some of those things.  The writer got the four-wheeler, hooked it to the honey wagon and began to empty the holding tanks while the fresh water tank filled.

The girls had returned to their room to begin packing.  They leave tomorrow.

When the tanks were emptied and the fresh water refreshed and the equipment stored for future use the writer was ready for the next chore, going to town.

Safeway had cokes on sale and Freddies had eggs.  We needed both.  Kurt and Sidney opted to go along as their houses also needed soft drinks and eggs.

In the stores we went our own ways meeting back out front to continue.

With the Subaru loaded with twenty twelve packs of soft drinks, seven dozen eggs and a half gallon of milk we headed back to camp.

On the way Kurt and I discussed the trip tomorrow to take the girls and Haley into Anchorage for their flight back to Austin.  We agreed that everyone would be more comfortable in his truck. It was agreed to swap vehicles for he day.  When we got back to camp the swap was made so some preliminary loading could take place this evening.

Kurt, Becky and many others from the camp were going to Homer tomorrow to catch a water taxi, cross Katchemak Bay and go clamming for butter clams.  The Subaru would be good for them, good gas mileage, and the truck good for us, lots of room for people and luggage.

The girls fished for half and hour.  After all, how can one be in Alaska during any kind of salmon run and at least not try to catch one?  They tried without success.  I tried for an hour or two with the same result.

Dawn called and we visited before supper, at ten.

Onie presented us with king crab and corn on the cob which we ate outside on the picnic table.

When the meal was finished, the paper plates thrown away and the crab shells committed to the river we went inside for a game of Skip-Bo.

When they went to the lodge at twelve fifteen it was cloudy and fifty nine.

July 5, 2008

Saturday

TATA, ADIEU, ADIOS, SO LONG

We are not in a rain forest but it sure is raining a lot this year and it rained again last night.  At least it warmed up a little.

Onie was up at eight, making coffee and tea, scrambling eggs, fixing grits, bacon and sausage.  The writer rose a little later and showered before continuing with loading the truck.

By a quarter of eleven the girls had their luggage out of the room and it was in the truck.  They squared up with LaVon then said so long to her.

It was time to begin our journey to Anchorage and the airport but first we had to pickup the girls' halibut.  We almost forgot due to thinking of things to do on the way but as we passed Suzie’s Diana asked about the fish.  A quick reversal of direction and we were headed for Custom Seafood and the fish.  From there we paid a visit to The Moose Is Loose in hopes of snagging a bear claw.  They were all gone, again.  We settled for more apple fritters and cinnamon rolls.

Now we truly were ready to head toward Anchorage.

Driving to Bear Valley and the Begich Boggs Visitor Center we kept a sharp lookout for animals but saw only one moose.

At three we were looking at Portage Lake and big ice floes from the Portage Glacier.  A cold sharp wind was blowing off the lake so we took little time in getting into the Visitor Center.

In pairs and sometime alone we wandered through the center looking at exhibits and listening to the sounds of Alaska before going into the theater where we saw a movie “Sounds for the Ice”.  The writer slept through some of it.  The ladies and Haley saw all of it. Back in the Center proper we wandered a little more, stopping to take pictures now and then.

We kept and eye on the clock as we wandered and at four twenty we said adios to the center and headed for the tunnel to Whittier.

The girls were duly impressed with the long tunnel through solid rock and were glad to see the light of day as we drew near the end of it.

A driving tour was taken to show Haley where the kids go to school and to let everyone see the rest of the town with its condos, fish plants and the large number of boats for sale.  We wound up at the ice cream shop where Haley and I went in for a cone.  Onie, Tracy and Diana opted to stay in the truck and forego the calories: that is until Diana saw my Death by Chocolate and Tracy and Onie saw Haley’s raspberry confection.  Being mature, Haley and I waited while they went in and got their own treats.

Adieu was bid to Whittier so we could make the six o’clock exit.

Back in Bear Valley we headed toward Cook Inlet where a bore tide was expected sometime between six thirty and seven.  The tide fall was right if the wind would cooperate.  A strong wind can knock down a bore tide.

Our first glimpse of the Inlet told us our timing was good as there was a strong incoming tide running.  We could also see trees bending in the wind.  We motored on around to the Beluga Point pull out.  It was already packed with others who were interested in seeing the “bore”.  After finding one of the last available parking spots we donned coats and walked over to the edge to have a closer look at the incoming tide.  It was running as fast as we had ever seen it, showing white water here and there as it swept past rocks or over a shallow place. The wind was also blowing about as strong as we had ever seen it blow, here.  The bore probably wouldn’t materialize today.  Cold and ever aware of the time, the girls had to be at the airport by eight, we headed back to the truck.

In the truck we sat for a couple of minutes, hoping to see some evidence of the bore and lo and behold there it was, right in front of us.  It wasn’t the six foot wall of water that can develop but it was definitely the bore.  A small, maybe six to twelve inches high, wall of water was racing across the top of the Inlet, headed toward the shore and now toward the top of the Inlet.  For a few minutes we watched with great interest and then the wind flattened the bore.  We, like other tourist, said ta-ta to Beluga Point and headed on to Anchorage.

It was supper time.  Onie and I had eaten at a Mexican food place called Gallo’s, a couple of times before.  We had tried finding it again to no avail.  Now we looked again.  We didn’t find the place we had eaten but we did find a Mexican food restaurant called Gallo’s.  Inside it was apparent that this was the original and the one on old Seward was a late addition.  We sat down to order at seven telling the waitress we had a plane to catch.  She placed our orders promptly.

After sharing this last meal, in Alaska, together we loaded back in the truck and headed for the airport.

Luggage was unloaded onto the sidewalk at five minutes ‘til eight.  The two week vacation for the girls was drawing to a close but through careful planning they had managed to see a lot of Alaska while participating in lots of outdoor activities.  Last minute suitcase adjustments were made.

and the suitcases and fish were arranged so they could be handled without the aid of a porter.

Airport security had been patient as we unloaded the luggage, made final adjustments of luggage and then divided it among the girls but now they wanted us to move on.  We said ta-ta, adieu, adios and finally so long, wishing them a safe and restful journey.  Undoubtedly they would sleep on the airplane and wake in the warm friendly skies over Houston where they would change planes before continuing on to Austin.

As we drove away the tear that is always there when we leave young grandchildren appeared in the corner of Onie’s eye.  We rode in silence for a while before Onie pointed out that she had seen fuel at a Holiday station that was priced below the competition.  We went there to fill up the fuel tank and to get the driver a large coke.  It had been a long day and he knew he would need some caffeine to keep him alert before he got back to the Marlin.

We were on the road again at eight fifteen.

The sun on the mountains around the Inlet was just beautiful and the shadows that were cast all along our way home gave a soft touch to the craggy peaks on our route.  A lone moose was seen near Sterling where we stopped to top off the fuel.

We saw the coach right at eleven and were inside in just a few minutes.  It was cloudy and damp and seemed much colder than the fifty five it actually was.

Onie crawled into bed to watch TV while I occupied the laptop with note making and a little writing.  At midnight the writer joined the navigator in bed.

July 6, 2008

Sunday

FOURSOME

We were up at nine to get ready or church.

The coffee and tea were made.  After a cup of coffee Onie headed off to the shower.  I stayed in the coach and made a few notes then rinsed off in our shower.

Onie had cold cereal for breakfast while I snacked on cold sausage.

At a quarter of eleven the foursome, Kurt, Becky, Onie and I loaded in the Subaru and headed off to church.

After church we stopped at the Tesoro station to fill up the car.

Kurt and I voted to give the ladies a day off from the kitchen and headed for the Chinese restaurant.  After eating way too much, not the buffet, but just a regular meal we headed off to Freddies for a little shopping outing.

We got back home at three.  Fishing and phoning occupied the rest of the afternoon.  Jim Johnson and Gary Bahm occupied a lot of our phoning.  We heard that Kyle was back to his winning ways at Toney Speedway in Harvest, Alabama.  Things were fine in Coldspring, while it wasn’t raining all the time we were getting enough to keep things green.  It was hot but not as hot as in the past at this time of year.  We look forward to seeing Jim and Polly in September when we will cruise the Inside Passage with them.

A knock on the door was Sandy. She was having an impromptu birthday party for her grandson, Kyle.  He is turning eighteen.  A birthday cake was waiting to be cut and ice cream was waiting to be dished up.  We told her we would be right there, we just had to grab coats.

We left the party and went to the fish grate.  After a while we left the fish grate, empty handed.

We lit our campfire at seven and soon Kurt and Becky, Kit and Martine and Sidney and Barbara were seated with us enjoying the heat and dodging the smoke.  Onie and Barbara brought out the snacks and folks munched and listened to various music coming from inside the Marlin.  The party broke up at eleven.

We went inside and turned on the heater.  It was fifty one.

Onie turned back the covers and went to bed at midnight.  Shortly after I joined her.