An assortment of unrelated but potentially interesting observations and information.
On a recent hike up a mountain on Douglas Island, I noticed a large rock rising from the alpine tundra. My dog Fen ran towards it, paused and ran two circles around it, smelling the earth as she went. It looked like the perfect marking post for wolves. Cautiously, Fen smelled the rock and then proceeded to run another circle.
Past an intensive construction zone, where the Chilkat River had begun to threaten the highway, up over the Three Guardsmen pass, there it begins — those splendid, wide, sweeping vistas of broad valleys, flanked by sharp-peaked mountains to the west. Trumpeter swans raise their cygnets in the ponds and marshes alongside the road. Long stretches of the highway are lined with bright purple flowers; without a specimen in my hand now, I cannot say which of two species it might be. (Confusingly, both are sometimes called sweet-vetch, but only the one that is also called bear root or Indian potato is nonpoisonous and edible).
Triston Chaney, a 19-year-old college student raised in Dillingham, knew before this year that he loved fly fishing. What he didn’t know is that he’d love helping other people catch fish, too.
The short answer is that it’s ground up rock. And no, you can’t cook with it (it’s ground up rock).
I’ve never been in one of those phone booths with the $100 bills flying around, but summer time in Alaska feels a lot like it sometimes.
This past weekend, my friend Zach Gianotti was back in town for a summer visit, which means I had new company for this week’s adventure.
It’s normal for mother black bears to “kick their cubs loose” in June.