Raymond F. Kuhlmann Dec.26, 1913 to Aug.16, 2008

It is with both sadness and happiness that Bucky and I leave Alaska tomorrow. We were notified yesterday of Dad's death. As described to us by Jean McCandless, who was so instrumental in keeping Dad in his own home, he "looked peaceful, as if he was sleeping". Dad was found unresponsive in his favorite chair in the living room after having enjoyed a "fine" cup of coffee with his caregiver only a short time before. We have regrets about not being closer to Burlington at this time, but feel comforted and happy knowing that Dad passed on as he had wished, quietly, peacefully, without illness or struggle, in his "own little house".

SEA CREATURE, BELUGAS AND PORTAGE ICE

seal or sea lion?


Belugas or iceburg?



Ice or dangerous flying object?

Williwaw

We stopped to look at spawning salmon along the Seward Highway in Williwaw Creek. The Sockeye are turning red and green as they approach death.

Wind, Rain and Glacier Ice

Bucky and I left Palmer yesterday and headed south of Anghorage to Bird Creek, looking for Silver Salmon. What we found instead were Beluga whales, many of them. As we drove along Turnagain Arm at low time it was a sight we hadn't expected and allowed us to put another check in the boxes of "must see" sights of Alaska. The waves on the Turnagain were cresting in white tops which at first masked the Beluga's appearance. It was an amazing sight which unfortunately was only captured on video, something that I have yet to master with this blog. Bird Creek provided another opportunity to combat fish, which Bucky didn't feel up for and I haven't ever mastered. It's the synchronized casting that prevents me from being successful. As you stand or sit on the bank, in your lawn chair, you must cast directly at the stranger standing or sitting, in their lawn chair, across the river. This requires accuracy and consistency, so as not to catch the fisherman standing or sitting across the river from you. I've watched as two fisherman have cast into each other and both yank thinking they have a strike. Most of the time the ensuing tangle of line, sinkers and lure or bait is cut without much foul language, but not always. I don't want to be the "not always". This morning we woke to wind and rain. Where to head? We decided to harvest ice from the Portage glacier for our evening drinks. What else would one do on such a day? The Portage Valley acts as a wind tunnel, directing gale force wind and weather up the valley. Bucky and I experienced this first hand during our ice harvest and it wasn't so great. We donned our rain gear and headed for the shores of Portage Lake to harvest ice so dense and powerful that it is said to break a glass when placed in it! It's good we have plastic glasses in festive summer colors. Perhaps we'll take the same approach as when combat fishing and wear our sunglasses. When fishing, this is done to keep from being hit in the eye with flying lures. Now we will save our eyes from possible flying ice. From the camper, we can see a small ice chunk floating comfortably just off shore. Bucky easily retrieved it and rushed it back to the camper freezer for 5pm. During the ice harvest, Bucky remained vigilant to his glacial documentation by taking both visual and mental notes. The Portage Glacier used to be seen off to the side of the Seward Highway. It now can be seen with high powered binoculars slipping silently away into the mountains.......I'm sure it will advance when it feels like it. We continued on for a revisit of Whittier, the town that shares its access with trains using the same tunnel. We waited 1/2 hour for the train to go through and then proceeded on. The weather was such that we left rather hastily and ended up in Hope, AK. Hope sits on Turnagain Arm across from the Seward Highway. I think it's the Western side, but I have been confused since arriving in AK as to where North is. There happens to be WiFi at this camp ground so I thought I would post this somewhat mediocre post and share some pictures. Bucky plans to fish Resurrection Creek tomorrow, still in search of the elusive Silver Salmon.

WAL*MIKE'S

Near the town of Telkeetna, we stumbled upon this unusual business complete with reindeer lawn mower. It was as good as any of the Walmarts we have been in!

THE DENALI HIGHWAY

After canning our salmon and regrouping, Bucky and I thought about where our next move should be. We decided that we needed to try to cross the Denali Highway. This road was opened in 1957 and provided the only access to Denali National Park and Preserve other than by air or train. The Park Highway was completed in 1972 and now provides access from Anchorage and Fairbanks. The Denali Highway is 134 miles long with 110 miles still unpaved. Questioning our judgement, after our lack of success in driving the Mc Carthy Highway, we never the less set out for Paxson, spending the night around Glennallen. As the weather was cold and rainy we felt we had nothing better to do, so why not drive. Once on the highway, we sensed we would be able to dodge the potholes and perhaps make it the entire distance. We were stopped for ongoing road construction which occurs during the summer months in AK. After several of these stops, we realized that all the flag girls had dazzling white teeth and perky good looks. Quite different than what we were familiar with from home. After they stop you, they come to the window and chat, letting you know how sorry they are for your delay, where are you headed?, where are you from? how long have you been in AK? and such. We chatted so long with one girl we felt we should offer her some of our snacks which we had retrieved from the back of the camper along with a cold drink. She said she couldn't. When I commented that it must be awful standing in the rain, she said it wasn't so bad. She said she just kept thinking about lying in the sun in Mexico where she spent the winter, not working. We later found out that flaggers are paid very high wages and go to flagger school, competing for these highly sought after summer positions! I would say they are also chosen for their looks. Anyway, what started as heavy rain gradually turned to snow resulting in our taking a break at Naidine and Jack Johnson's Tangle River Inn. It was here that we learned the secret for cleaning salmon. According to Jack, the best way to clean the exterior slime and silt off our salmon is to pack along a pressure washer. By using the right nozzle attachment and by holding the nozzle at the correct angle and distance one can in fact blow the scales and slime right off. One must however, be careful not to hit ones own skin as a serious wound could result. After blowing off the exterior grime of the fish, the power washer can be used to clean the fillets, your cutting board, the camper, your hip waders and even your dog, that is if you have one along. However, you must carry along fresh water for the power washer as the river water is too silty. If you run out of fresh water, you can usually refill at a fire station. Naidine and Jack have lived in the Tangle Lakes area for 60 years and Naidine even has a mountain named after her. Jack is quite a hunter. He delighted in telling us about a recent wolf hunt during which he removed a Fish and Game radio collar which had been placed on the wolf and put it on a wolverine which he and his son had trapped and then painted flourescent green. It was obvious to Bucky and I that these people have spent too much time in the bush. Naidine does however make an excellent cinnamon roll. As we traveled on, the snow ceased and the sun decided to grace us with a beautiful afternoon of viewing mountains, caribou and ptarmigan. We were able to cross the 134 miles in a long day of driving, but enjoyed every minute of it. Another box checked off the list of Alaskan roads traveled. Following this, we had the chance to float by raft, with the Vickaryous family (dog included), Willow Creek to its confluence with the Little Susitna River. We had hoped to catch some silvers on the way, but it wasn't to be. Floating the river provided us with a chance to see the interior of the land. It was a fabulous experience and one we would love to do again.

Doing the can-can

We have managed to accumulate enough fish to start processing. Following the Vickaryous fish processing technique, this is a 24 hr. procedure which involves much beer and little sleep. While the canner is doing its thing, fillets need to be cut, brined, layed on a rack to dry before being placed in the smoker. The smoker needs to be monitored for the correct amount of shavings and water so the strips cure properly. All of this involves setting up work stations both inside and outside the house. We're excited to feel like real Alaskans putting food up for the winter and Christmas gifts for all of you.

Norman Lowell

Norman Lowell in his Anchor Point, AK Gallery.

Mount Iliamna as seen from Anchor Point and painted by Norman Lowell.

Advancing or retreating?

Is it making a quick exit? Coming or going, it's beautiful.

Bucky's continued mission to validate the advancement of the world's glaciers was dealt a severe set-back upon our visit to the Exit Glacier outside Seward, AK. Seward is surrounded by the Harding Ice Field and Kenai Fjord National Park. These same ice fields had been visable to us from Homer and it was apparent to Bucky after cocktail hour in Homer, that the glaciers we could see, high in the Kenai Mountains, were indeed significantly advancing. However, after our visit to the Exit Glacier, this may not in fact be true. Perhaps even more disturbing to glacier experts like Bucky, is the terminology currently being used to describe the front edge of a glacier. On the signage around the Exit Glacier, this leading edge was labelled "the toe" when according to Bucky it is more aptly named "the tongue". Afterall, it distinctly resembles the human tongue when extended out of the mouth, which is often the reaction of people after hearing Bucky's theory of glacial advancement.

LOVE ALASKAN STYLE

From Homer, back up to Anchor Point and on to Seward

We were greeted in Homer with sunny, clear weather making the mountains that surround the town visable at every turn. We ventured out onto Kachemak Bay for a visit of Halibut Cove, a very small artist community, a short boat ride away. We rode on the Danny J. a converted fishing vessel holding about 25-30 people. Bucky did well braving the somewhat rough seas that we faced on our return trip. While in Halibut Cove we enjoyed an excellent lunch at an outdoor cafe and met an artist named Dianna who paints with sepia colored ink extracted from octopus, or is it octopeii? She went into great depth telling me of inserting the syringe needed to extract the ink into an oriface lying beneath the octopus. This is done after enticing the animal from its rock hiding place and flipping it over onto its back. She told me all this while her eyes danced with sadistic excitement. I found her to be interesting in her insanity and her sepia toned artwork to be very beautiful. I was particularly fond of one stark piece with black stylized crows and long legged cranes flying over the canvas except for the fact that Dianna herself emerged naked from the painting's background. She delighted in pointing this out to me. Unkown to us, our trip was to take on an artistic theme, one of the dangers of traveling itinerary free. We were next to meet Norman Lowell, Alaska's best known artist. As much as the octopus ink was appealing, the knife and brush paintings of Mr. Lowell were more so. He and his wife moved from Iowa in 1948 crossing on the Alcan highway to build a cabin and homestead in Anchor Point, AK. They now have open to the public their lovely studio which houses Norman's life's work. They also welcome visitors to view their original log cabin and flower gardens. We had the pleasure of meeting both Norman and his wife. We found them to be lovely and gracious in the way of all the Alaskans we have met while on the road. After stopping for a beer at Clam Gulch, AK, not part of the "artist trail", we were made aware of the upcoming "minus" tide. This tide is lower than low and allows for clammers to access the razor clams which stay out deep. We made the decision that we needed to harvest the allowed 60 razor clams each provided by our sportfishing licenses. We camped on the beach so as to be ready to head to Cook Inlet an hour before the minus tide with our rented shovel and pail. After watching and practicing different shoveling techniques, Bucky became quite good at digging, grabbing and not breaking the fragile shells. The hardest part was cleaning the 90 or so clams we ended up with. Thanks to the help provided in this area by the campground host, a Middlebury College grad., Bucky learned the proper cleaning technique and within two hours we were done and the clams frozen.

Kenai, dipnetting and Russian church

Back Blogging

Bucky and I have seen some sights since we last visited. Our computer is down and as we wait to have it looked at here in Homer, I'm able to use a computer lab hooked to the shop. We have just reached the southern end of the Kenai Penninsula, after having spent 3 days camped at the Russian River Ferry on the Kenai river and a day on Cook Inlet. The Russian River Ferry parking area is a popular spot from which to access and fish the famous Kenai River at its confluence with the Russian River. As Dave Vickaryous, our trusty Alaskan tour guide, put it, "here you will see all types of craziness." It's called combat style fishing which basically means standing as close as you dare to your fishing neighbor and lobbing out a heavily weighted fly trying to snag the sockeye as they move past in schools swimming upstream. You're only to keep fish which are hooked in the mouth which provides another element of interest. When you're lucky enough to hook a fish, it takes off like a scalded cat downstream, usually dragging your line across your neighbor's and perhaps several people's lines in the neighborhood. While you're drag is screaming and your hanging on so as not to be pulled into the river, from which there is no recovery, the fish can break-off sending your weights and fly rapidly back at your face or the face of someone in the neighborhood. Thank you Dave for telling us to always keep our sunglasses on! Fortunately, we have found Alaskans to be very friendly. Add to this the occassional gunshot as someone either scares off a bear or actually kills it on the river bank. Bucky and I were continually pestered by a black bear while standing in the stream which caused an uneasy feeling. The bear, human relationship on the Kenai River is the opposite of that on the Brooks River. At Brooks, the humans were subservient to the bears, moving aside to make it possible for the bears to feed on salmon. Here, the people defend the stream and their catch from the bears. As the river is lined with fishermen on both sides for miles and miles, the bears points of entry are limited. The Russian Ferry is a cable ferry which operates using the extreme current of the Kenai River for power. Fisherman pay to use it to access the far bank. As the current is very strong, my fishing was limited, but Bucky was able to obtain his limit of 3 fish per day most of the days he fished. We now have a freezer full and plan to smoke them when we return to Palmer and our home away from home with Dave and Amber Vickaryous. The Kenai Penninsula is totally about fishing Cook Inlet and any river reaching it from the interior. There are large commercial fishing operations, dip netting by Alaskan residents, fishing from all sizes of boats and wading to fish from shore. Silver salmon should be here any day as Carlisle says they are hammering them in the Mat-Su drainage where she is located. Although Homer is the Halibut fishing capital of the world, Bucky thinks he'll forego. For all those who know his tolerance for the open ocean, it's a wise choice. Instead we'll camp out on Homer Spit and look at the mountains while trying our luck for flounder and such from shore. On our way back up the penninsula, we'll clam in or near Ninilchik on the minus tide, a tide lower than low. These are razor clams. Hopefully, we'll be able to write again at least from a situation like this.

Brooks bears

Anyone see fish?

Brown Bears of Brooks!

Fire cabin pike

The devil made me do it!

Bay of Islands, Naknek Lake

Rainbow caught in the Bay of Islands on Naknek Lake near Fure's cabin.

Brooks Lodge and Carter

B is for Bear.

On July 16th, Bucky and I began our much anticipated trip into Brooks Camp in Katmai National Park. Katmai sits at the top of the Alaska Pennisula and the Aleutian chain of islands. We had heard many wonderful tales of this area from Carlisle and her good friend Carter while working at Brooks Lodge. Although Carlisle moved on to new ventures, we were excited to become Carter's surrogate parents during our week at Brooks. No parent could ask for a more wonderful son. We took an early morning flight from Anchorage and arrived in King Salmon, a small fishing village on Naknek River, an hour and a half later. Upon arrival in King, we were shuttled to Katmai Air for the flight by float plane to Brooks Lodge. As luck would have it, our pilot was David McRae, a good friend of Carlisle's, who was able to point out for us the connection of Bristol Bay to the Naknek River and to Naknek and Brooks lake. Bristol Bay is perhaps the largest salmon fishery in Alaska and it's all about the spawning salmon. Our first bear sighting came before our floats hit the water as we approached the beach at Brooks Camp. What seemed like a close bear encounter then, would seem trivial in the days to come. As soon as our feet left the float and hit the sand, we were in the capable hands of Carter. If not for him, we would never have seen all that this area has to offer, including tufted tan bear ears just showing over the grass, taking a wade in the Brooks River below the bear viewing platforms with all binnoculars on us instead of the bears and starting a fire to cook salmon on the beach at Margot Creek with water logged wood while a bear eyed our salmon from a distance. Margot Creek provided us with Arctic Char fishing, a fish which with we had had no previous experience, nor had the puple,egg sucking leach been a part of our lives before now. Carter was as adept as Levi at pulling my wearing bones through the current of the Brooks River enabling Bucky and I to catch some awesome Rainbows. Our camping in the Brooks campground was O.K. other than the pools of water in the corners of the tent. So, it was without hesitation that we accepted an extra night offered to us at Fure's Cabin, the only public use cabin within Katmai Park. Roy Fure was a Lithuanian born trapper, homesteader and tough old bird who outlived one wife and went on to share his cabin with his 17 year old native bride. It was impossible to share his home without many thoughts of how it must have been here really not so long ago. Being in the cabin gave us the chance to dry our soggy clothes by the wood stove and eat food out of aluminum pouches. In the early morning, while lying on my back listening to the comforting snore of my two sleeping bears, Bucky and Carter, on either side of me, I counted the knot holes in the spruce ceiling above me and thought about Fure's 17 year old bride and wondered if she had made the right move in marrying Roy. Carter left the next day for work at Brooks, leaving behind the canoe we had brought from Brooks so Bucky and I could try our luck with Pike. We heeded the many warnings that we had been given about Naknek being a tricky lake with high winds appearing rapidly by staying close to shore and fishing some weeds. After landing a decent fish, our hopes were high, but that was to be the only fish of the day. We made a hasty return to Brooks on the evening of the 21st as rough water and wind were predicted for the 22nd. It was weird to hear the motor of "Big Red" the Brooks boat, coming to fetch us, far in the distance long before we could see it, due to the silence of a spot like this. It was our hope that Carter had been able to arrange for another day off to stay and fish, but it wasn't to be. One thing we've learned about Alaska is that you move or don't move as the weather permits. There are so many more things to say. I haven't even begun with the bears. That's for next time. And if the weather permits, the next move is to the Kenai. J.

Carlisle’s in town

Lake Hood, is the largest seaplane airport in the world. Lisle carries care packages, returning to the bush. Notice that it's in a float bag so no chance of losing it in transit.

Our visit with Lisle was all to short, but it was wonderful to see her looking healthy and fit despite her long work days. From what she had to say, she has met some very interesting "bush" people who make every trip out onto the river a new adventure. Now that King Salmon fishing is closed on the rivers that she fishes, her hope is for shorter days and more time to fish herself. Fishing for silvers doesn't seem to hold the same level of urgency that catching a King does. For one thing, a fisherman can catch and keep more than one fish per day. We're hoping to have our own experience fishing for them on the Kenai upon our return from Brooks. Our weather has been as anticipated, clouds, drizzle and an occasional break in the clouds allowing for some sun to shine on the beautiful snow covered peaks. Taking a ride on the 4 wheeler here in the yard up onto the mountainside, Twin Peaks, to look for sheep might be our adventure for today, as well as a trip into Palmer or Wasilla, both nice towns with great stores. We have been introduced to Fred Meyer, a store with everything anyone would need and many things one would not.

Hog line

Hog Line on the Yetna River.

Visit with Carlisle

It was great to have Carlisle arrive by plane in Anchorage from her guiding job at Riversong Lodge in the Mat-Su valley. It has been an interesting fishing season for her with some good stories of jet boats, hook-ups, hog lines, egg sacs and more. Fishing for Kings has its own language and set of rules. Her pockets are bulging with cash sent with her by fellow isolated employees for purchasing liquor and cigarettes. Working in bush Alaska is a bit like prison, anyone catching a flyout to Anchorage, receives a long shopping list with booze and cigarettes at the top. After that, the question is asked of the escapee, "are you coming back"? She'll be with us for an overnight which will be terrific and at this point plans to return for fishing silvers; after that, who knows. Our hope is to touch base again later this summer.

George and Jane

We love ferries!

Valdez

Valdez, a harbor of boats and sealife, surrounded by glaciers high on snow capped mountains.

Ferry

Stellar Sea Lion, fishing boats, sea otters and more kept us alert and camera ready.

Blue.....glacial ice

  Blue is the title of this entry as it described the glacial water that surrounded us as we traveled from Valdez to Whittier by ferry. Our inland passage provided us with first hand knowledge of Valdez Harbor and Prince William Sound. This fishery and travel corridor for Alaskan oil represents the heartbeat of Alaskan industry. Camping beside Peter Pan and other canneries, while looking off shore at fishing and cargo vessels, made for a night of viewing a harbor at work. Remember, it doesn't get dark so activities can go on for as long as one likes. Our first class ferry service, aboard the Aurora, made the 5 hour trip past the site of the Valdez oil spill and along side floating ice from the Columbia Glacier, very enjoyable. Jane became well informed about investment banking, where to sleep while riding a bicycle across Alaska, why not to be left on a ventilator, why to have a living will, the cost of assisted living and why a single attractive man in his late 40's isn't married. It wasn't hard to guess why! After exiting the boat in Whittier and traveling through the longest train tunnel in N. America which involved staggered starts by outgoing vehicles, incoming vehicles and trains, all using the same tunnel with fresh air forced in to keep us all from dying, we followed the Turnagain Arm back to Anchorage. Glaciers, waterfalls and rugged snowcovered peaks continued to surround us keeping us mindful of climate change ????? George and Bucky have found it impossible not to include an add on to their grass roots movement of making Denali the world's tallest mountain; this being an ice crystal movement concerned with the dangers of advancing glacier activity. To learn more, watch for upcoming posts.

King George

George and the big one!!!

Bucky's King