I dunno, some handsome stranger with a lake trout... They are everywhere! (The handsome strangers, that is!)

See? More handsome strangers on the Crescent River fishing for kings!

As close as I would let Chris get to this harmless black bear. He was ticked off at me!!!

More bear pics.

Chris got this after I left. 78 pounds? Wow!

One of many lake trout.

Kim, of Clam Gulch Lodge with her 60 pound king

Chris, taking a look around, and around, and around.... It's breathtaking!
Where shall we catch fish now? They were rolling EVERYWHERE!

The Journey back to Crescent Lake out of the river.

 

Alaska...

Oh no! It's all becoming a blur of fish!

I sleepily pushed back the curtains on the 19th of July, and said, "Uh oh!"
As you can see above, the fog was pressing down against the top of my head, and there was no way a float plane could land. A steady rain danced upon the cabin roofs.
Thinking we were flying out the day before, I'd volunteered to help the crew clean cabins.
Hey, I didn't have anything to do, and it made me feel at home! I dutifully stripped the sheets on the beds and put fresh ones on. I scrubbed the sink and toilet, and vacuumed.
A lot of good that did, as we just got right back in the beds!
I slept in till around 8 that morning. When I got up, bacon, eggs and pancakes were already on the table at the lodge. The smell wandered through the air and pulled me to the lodge, when I opened the cabin door.
I was feeling quite a member of the crew by then, and after breakfast, stationed myself to kitchen cleanup while Chris got the boat and gear ready to fish.
Were we there for the day, or would it clear?
Throughout the day, we were all caught staring up at the sky to check for a clearing in the weather.
The crew at Redoubt Mountain Lodge all had plans and a feeling in the air told me frustration was setting in with some of us..
Diane, a very pleasant helper at Redoubt was anxious about missing her boyfriend.
Eric and Shannon had people they were going to miss a meeting with.
I was still half expecting to get out, but began to wonder about missing my flight home the next day.
I have to admit that at one time during this day I had a bit of an anxiety attack.
I suppose the fog that hugged us so closely, and the thought of being absolutely abandoned in the wild Alaskan territory, got my heart beating fast, and a smidgen of claustrophobia set in.
Wild thoughts filled my head of drifting down the Crescent river just to be picked up on the fog cleared side of Cook Inlet. Ah! I'd never make it! I'm STUCK!
The thought of having to pay for another flight out hit me hard. I sat in my little chair outside my cabin and a tear fell down my cheek. It camouflaged with the rain beading on my hair and fell to the ground.
Alaska Airlines had told me that with an E ticket, there will be NO changes in flight plans. My ticket back would cost me $682.00, less my original purchase. OUCH! (This didn't end up to be true, and they did reschedule me for free... Worry not, Jennie!)
My rental car sat unused at the airport, 'cha chinging' 55.00 a day.
Whimper!
My kids were expecting me home to tell stories of their church camp adventures.
The clamming tides at Clam Gulch! I wanted some clams!
The Kenai and my chance for a king!
My bunnies, my chickens, my Kilchis!
"I wanna go home!" ... and I did want to go home, at that very minute.
I couldn't find sympathy from anyone.
Steve Campbell, of Western Rivers Fly Fishing Service, was an all around handy man and fishing guide at Redoubt. I heard many sayings from him such as...
"We are not here for a long time, we are here for a good time!"
or...
"I've never seen anyone so upset being stuck in the most beautiful place on earth!"
Although at the time, I didn't take comfort in these words, he was right on. There was nothing I could do, and he wasn't about to sympathize with me! I had no choice but to become convinced.
There was nothing I could do... but enjoy my surroundings.
So I wiped my tears and got over it.
Now looking back, I wish I would have enjoyed my time there EVERY minute, with no apprehension, but the past lies as it is. A valuable lesson learned.
Reality hit, when I asked Shan if she would like me to strip the beds again. "No, Jennie, I know your heart is in the right place, but you would probably have to do it again tomorrow".
I swear it was her chocolate cake that finally made me feel comforted and smile again!
The river had come up 2 feet and sloppy waves lapped against the newly created shoreline.
The ceiling of fog and clouds was still coming down, and the lake and river coming up. The squished living space in between was becoming smaller and smaller, attempting to envelope us. The air, thick with moisture, left everyone speaking in hushed tones.
Chris and I thought we would go out for a bit of fishing, but were instructed to stick around camp that day to see if the plane would be coming in.
We packed our bags, did everything we could to be ready, and ended up napping most of the day.
We became very good at deciphering plane noises. Twin engine planes were flying high above the cloud cover. We'd hear an engine from a distance and freeze to listen.
"Nope! Not a float plane, too high...."
At five or six the call came in. No plane for us today.
At that moment, Chris and I headed for the boats and tackle shop and began to prepare for an evening fish.
Let me tell you about the tackle shop! My Gosh! I couldn't believe it! It was a full cabin, loaded 40 or more G Loomis rods of any type you can imagine. One for every type of fishing, fly, cast or spin,-- silver salmon, king salmon, lake trout, or char!
On the opposite wall were racks of hip boots to fit every foot. Above that, rows of life vests, nets and seat cushions.
A wall separating the cabin offered a fly tying bench, a display wall full of unopened spinners, leader material, line, fly tying gear and tools.
A refrigerator held bait. Shelves were stacked high with tackle boxes, already filled for a day of fishing. K 16's in one, an array of spinners in another or a box of flies.
It's your tackle room dream come true!
After fishing, and quite late at night, I joined Diane on the back porch of the main lodge with a glass of good, warm red wine.
We talked of her life in Alaska, her boyfriend, and her dog, as dusk hit camp.
I made intermittent calls on the satellite phone, (at a buck a minute!) to alert car rental companies, Bill, and the airlines to my delay.
I entered the lodge at much past midnight, and joined Chris and Shan's son. They were listening to a taped recording of "A Prairie Home Companion" with Garrison Keillor.
Garrison's voice lulled me to a groggy state.
I wandered back to the cabin, lay my tired bones down on the bed and drifted off to that deep, Redoubt Mountain sleep that I haven't known since. NEXT

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